Broddock-Black 05 - Force of Nature by Susan Johnson Read Free Book Online Page A

as dessert was being served.
    She stood in the doorway for a moment scanning the room and catching sight of Trey, smiled.
    As Flynn followed Trey’s gaze and saw the glorious, darkhaired woman, even Clara’s strident voice faded into oblivion. That’s why Trey had been saving the chair on his other side— for her. Struck with an inexplicable surge of jealousy, Flynn begrudged him her beauty, her lush smile, the sensual pleasure such a woman would accord.
    She was resplendently female, strikingly voluptuous, moving toward them with a long-legged, almost mannish stride. But no one would mistake her for a man in that pale ivory gown that bared her shoulders and the half-swell of her breasts visible above the low decolletage; her tightly corseted waist was so narrow, he found himself unconsciously flexing his fingers in anticipation. An obvious half blood, her skin tones lured the touch; her exotic dark eyes held a hint of sexual promise; and her full mouth, half curved in a tantalizing smile, was definitely made to be kissed.
    She arrived at the table in a wafting drift of violet scent. It suited her rare beauty. And her smile at close range held a delectable warmth. Trey introduced her to those she didn’t know; Flynn and a woman from Chicago were new to her. After she was seated, Trey leaned in close, one arm around the back of her chair and murmured something in her ear that made her laugh. He saw that her champagne glass was filled, that she had a dessert of her choice. And then he sat back and smiled at her like a connoisseur admiring his newest purchase. “Is there anything else your little heart desires, darling?”
    She struck his arm playfully with her closed fan, said, “Behave,” and then turned to speak to the woman on her left.
    More resentful than he would have thought possible, Flynn shot Trey a gimlet-eyed look. “She must be yours.”
    Trey’s brows flew up and then he grinned. “Hell, no, she’s my sister.”
    Flynn tried not to smile at the gratifying possibilities. “Is she available?”
    “Depends what you mean.”
    “She’s very beautiful.”
    “You’re not her type,” Trey said.
    “Are you her chaperon?” Flynn’s voice was mild.
    Trey scowled. “What if I said I was?”
    “Maybe I’d have to ask her whether you were?”
    “Ask me what?” Jo inquired, leaning forward enough to see around her brother.
    Flynn’s dark gaze held hers for a small heated moment. “Whether you liked Clara’s singing,” he said, husky and low.
    “I do—very much.” Jo smiled at the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, patently aware that he wasn’t talking about singing.
    “Just a minute here,” Trey muttered under his breath, sandwiched between a scandal in the making. “Just a damned minute.”
    “How old are you?” Flynn’s voice was hushed.
    “Old enough,” Jo replied, equally softly.
    “Do you want to dance?”
    She glanced around; everyone was still seated, Clara was singing. “Now?”
    “Not here.”
    “Where?”
    “Does it matter?”
    “What the hell do you two think you’re doing?” Trey growled. “Jesus, Jo, behave for Christ’s sake.”
    She smiled. “I’m sorry. Am I embarrassing you? I didn’t know it was possible.”
    “Very funny—and yes, you are. Stewart is about to speak. Calm down, Flynn, or Lillibet will complain to her father.” By this time, everyone at their table was staring at them. Regardless of the fact that their exchange was inaudible, clearly an argument was taking place. And neither Trey nor Flynn were known for their mild manners.
    “I would appreciate it if you would both conduct yourself like adults,” Jo murmured, silkily, as though she’d not been the cause of their grim expressions. “Have some respect for Stewart.”
    “Bitch,” Trey muttered, but he was smiling.
    A luscious, teasing little bitch, Flynn thought, wanting to pick her up and carry her off without a damn for appearances. But he knew better; his mother wouldn’t