The Billionaires: The Stepbrothers (Lover's Triangle 3)

“It’s okay if I hear exactly what the FBI did. It’s a cross-check. And just plain and simple Scarlet is fine.”

His glowing blue eyes flitted to her. “Believe me, there’s nothing plain and simple about you.” His gaze roved her body, from her long hair with the bangs tossed over to one side, down the front of her tight gray wool sweater, to her low-rise jeans and hiking boots. “Scarlet,” he added with another quirk of the corner of his mouth.

Their gazes connected again and her pulse jumped.

Bayli had once joked that the way Christian or Rory looked so intensely at her sometimes sparked a physical jolt low in her belly. She called it eye sex.

Scarlet was fairly certain she’d just had it with Sam Reed.

She reached for the potato scrubber on the ledge and went to town on the skins, her blood sizzling, her skin tingling.

And what was going on between her legs mirrored all the zings Michael had incited the night before.

Christ, had that really been less than twenty-four hours ago? Had she only left his bed at the Crestmont this very morning?

And now here she was, hot for his stepbrother. Completely charged by his powerful masculinity and smitten with his contradictory compassionate nature. His obvious love of animals. His broken heart.

Everything about him pulled her in, hooked her. Made her want him the way she’d so desperately wanted Michael within the first few seconds of meeting him.

That was crazy; she knew it.

Not that it wasn’t possible to be overwhelmingly attracted to two men at the same time. It’d happened to Jewel over the course of twenty-eight years of knowing and eventually falling in love with Rogen when they were kids and then Vin as they’d entered adulthood. It had happened to Bayli much quicker. About as fast as it was happening to Scarlet.

Perhaps it was because her best friends had experienced soul-deep emotional and sexual connections with their guys that it was easily a viable romantic scenario in Scarlet’s mind. Plausible, so that maybe from the onset of meeting Sam she’d subconsciously been open to the concept of sharing volcanic chemistry with both him and Michael.

Who knew how synergy and electrifying vibes really worked, other than to say that they could strike like lightning? And she’d been zapped twice.

She considered this as she wrapped the potatoes in foil, pierced them, and added them to the oven along with the bacon Sam was cooking. Th

en she found a bamboo cutting board, grabbed a knife from the block, and began slicing mushrooms at the island.

Sam pulled out the broiler pan when the bacon was only about half-done and set the roast on the flat strips, seasoned the meat, then rolled it all up and returned it to the oven.

He washed his hands, moving about stealthily. As he reached for a sauté pan, his chest grazed her shoulder and it was a wonder she didn’t cut open her other palm from the jarring sensation inside her. Just like Bayli’s reaction to eye sex.

Fuck.

She tried to keep her shuddering to a minimum.

Come on, Scarlet. This is serious business.

Don’t get lost in those gorgeous blue eyes. That whole sexy, earthy look the man sported. And the enticing scent of him.

Scarlet had a small window of opportunity to engage Sam and find out more about the missing artwork. It was extremely fortuitous that he’d been the one who’d rescued her and brought her here. Even more advantageous that she couldn’t make it into Lakeside or back to Rollins, so that she had no choice but to have dinner with him.

To spend the night.

Kismet was shining bright and Scarlet was not fool enough to turn a blind eye to it. She had the chance to question Sam without it being the accusatory interrogation he’d originally expected it would be. They could talk. Discuss a few theories. Perhaps Scarlet would learn something invaluable. A key factoid that would explain how the paintings had vanished and where they might be.

Without incriminating Michael and Sam, she hoped. Really, their quilt would be a bummer of epic proportions. Especially with Sam constantly sneaking peeks at the puppy to check on him. That kindhearted gesture did things to Scarlet. Moved her in a way that would have been significant under normal circumstances, but given Sam’s tortured past and obviously still-tormented soul, his concern for the Lab held even more poignancy for her.

She didn’t doubt for a second that Sam Reed would have made an incredible father.

And that choked her up again. Literally as well as figuratively. She sputtered on a half sob and had to go for another tissue.

“You okay?” Sam asked, the worry much too evident in his rich, intimate timbre, causing her to turn a shoulder on him so he didn’t see her dab at tears.

“Yeah, sure,” she said, striving for an unwavering tone. Not fully succeeding. “Saliva down the wrong pipe or something,” she lied.