Sleeping With the Enemy (4 page)

Jay couldn’t have agreed more. He knew this case would open up a can of worms. And two could play at using the opposite sex for personal gain. Hell, he was about to launch a war on Bridgett Janik to gain . . . what, exactly? He’d never trust her with his heart again. Jay was just too selfish to allow her to give
her own heart—or her body—to anyone else. And that meant possessing her himself.

“Hey, boss.”

Linc’s voice startled him into nearly missing his mark. Jay steadied the bag and looked up at his assistant, who was still dressed in shirt and tie.

“Did Stuart call back?” Jay asked, surprised at how unsure he felt about how Bridgett would respond.

“He did. Bridgett Janik is still on
the case.”

Relief surged through Jay. Not wanting to have this conversation in front of Heath, he just nodded at Linc.

“You sure she’s the lawyer for the job, though? She looked like she’d rather be defending a serial killer than her brother’s football team.”

He shouldn’t have been surprised that his assistant wasn’t as circumspect. “She’ll be fine.”

“She’s not exactly the ball
buster I thought she was,” Linc went on, ignoring Jay’s glare. “I mean, she was kind of emotional when she left your office.”

Jay heard the weight bar clank into the stand as Heath dropped it none too gently.

“I thought you were meeting some woman in Fells Point?”

Linc checked his phone. “Yeah, I gotta hit the road. I just wanted to let you know that Princess Charlotte called.”

Jay heaved a sigh. “She’s in the country?”

“Worse. She’s on her way to Baltimore. And she wants to bring some friends to the season opener this weekend. She’s pretty insistent that you call her back. Said she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Too bad
she’s
not a lawyer, because she’s the definition of a ball buster.”

Charlotte was that and a whole lot more. This day was just getting shittier
and shittier.

“Anything else you need tonight, boss?” Linc’s look was only slightly pitying.

“No, at least one of us should enjoy himself tonight. Get out of here.”

With a wave to both men, he made his way out of the weight room. Jay toweled himself off and was halfway to the showers when Heath spoke.

“A princess, huh?”

Jay didn’t bother responding. Let the coach think what
he wanted.

“That might be useful to you if she has her own country you can hide out in,” Heath went on, his voice quiet but steely. “Because if you’re making Brody Janik’s sister ‘emotional,’ he won’t care who you are. He’ll kill you. Don’t even get sucked in by that cheesy smile of his.”

“Thanks for your concern, Gibson, but you’re way off base.” Jay wasn’t worried about his glamour boy
tight end. He was more worried about what problems Charlotte was going to deposit on the doorstep of his penthouse.

By the time Jay arrived home an hour later, the scent of Charlotte’s heavy perfume had already settled like a thick fog over his living room. The doorman informed him that she’d arrived thirty minutes earlier and it had taken everything he had not to hop back into his Jag and
head for points unknown. This day was definitely one for the book of all-time crappy days. Ignoring the woman lounging on his leather sofa, Jay headed straight for the liquor cabinet.

“Hard day in the corporate sandbox?” Charlotte asked as she slowly shifted her long legs along the sofa. They were clad in thigh-high leather boots that likely cost more than Jay’s doorman made in a month. Apparently
it was Jay’s lot in life to be surrounded by women who were attracted to the finer things. Since Charlotte was born with a trust fund that rivaled the budget of some small countries, her elitist nature wasn’t such a surprise.

The rest of her was wrapped in a blanket of cashmere; the only other apparel visible was the three sterling silver bands that always dangled from her wrist. Her indigo
eyes were artfully made up to look like she belonged in a sultan’s harem. Long auburn hair—so similar to her father’s—flowed over the cushions of the sofa.

“Make yourself at home, Charlie,” he said sarcastically before taking a healthy swallow of Scotch. He let his gaze drift over the panoramic view of Baltimore’s Inner Harbor. It wasn’t the Manhattan skyline or the spectacular view from his
home in the foothills of Napa Valley, but the ships bobbing in the water always seemed to soothe him. Tonight, though, he wasn’t sure even the Scotch would relax him. “I take it you and your friends are finished running amok in Europe?”

Charlie made a sound of disdain. “Everyone is so on edge there, worried about the economy and the Middle East. It’s really put a damper on all the fun I could
have been having.”

Jay shook his head.
Typical Charlie. Always thinking of herself.
“Good to know nothing has changed.”

She sighed and closed her eyes. Jay did a quick double take trying to determine if that was moisture he’d glimpsed on her mink-like lashes.
Charlie crying?
That never happened. Not since her father had died thirteen years ago.

“I thought you’d be happy to see me.
I’ve missed you,” she said softly. “Haven’t you missed me? Not even just a little bit?”

He squeezed the back of his neck with his hands. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d taken out his bad day on Charlie. That was one of the reasons their relationship had deteriorated these past few years. But he refused to accept all the blame. She hadn’t been a saint, either.

“Should I not have come
home?” she asked.

Jay downed the rest of his Scotch before answering. “I told you that you always have a home here with me.”

She sighed again and he wandered back to the bar for a refill.

“Maybe you should pace yourself, Jay. The night’s young.”

He laughed. “Says the woman who started stealing booze out of the liquor cabinet when she was thirteen.”

“I’ve given it up.”

A piece of ice got stuck in his throat and he coughed. “Since when? Don’t tell me alcohol has lost its appeal now that you’re twenty-one and it’s no longer illegal?”

Charlie sat up on the sofa.
Damn, those were tears in her eyes.
“No. I’ve given up lots of things. For health reasons.”

This time when he choked, it had nothing to do with anything clogging his throat.

“Congratulate me,
Jay. You’re going to be an uncle.”

Jay pushed the pieces of omelet around on his plate while Charlie hovered around him. To his credit, he hadn’t exploded—yet. It was likely his half sister was expecting a violent outburst at any moment given the way she kept the kitchen counter between them at all times. Her bombshell had knocked him on his ass—literally. He’d collapsed into one of the recliners amid a string of
obscenities, the weight of one too many surprises today taking him out at the knees.

“See,” she’d said. “I told you that was too much Scotch. When did you last eat anything?” Scrambling to the kitchen, she’d begun preparing him some food. Despite growing up in homes with servants, their mother, Melanie, had insisted both Charlie and Jay learn to fend for themselves in the kitchen. While Charlie
had obviously mastered the skill of cooking, Jay paid for someone else to do his.

“Does Mom know?” he asked. His gut seized at the thought of how their mother would react to her twenty-one-year-old, unmarried daughter being pregnant.

Charlie avoided his eyes, wiping the counter with a towel
instead. “God, no. I just found out myself.” She shrugged. “It’s not like she’ll be excited about
it, so why bother.”

Jay heaved a sigh. For the life of him, he’d never understand the relationship between his mother and sister. Charlotte was the golden child, born to Jay’s mother and her second husband, multimillionaire Lloyd Davis, when Jay was fifteen. His mother had been in her early forties while Lloyd had been approaching sixty when his sister arrived. To say that Charlotte had been
doted on would be a gross understatement. Unfortunately, the rest of humanity was now paying the price for their family’s spoiling of her.

From the moment he’d laid eyes on his beautiful baby sister, Jay had adored her. He’d spent most of his life walking on eggshells around his stepfather, trying to live up to the CEO of the body-armor-manufacturing company’s rigid ideals. But Charlie loved
her big brother unconditionally. When nothing Jay said or did could please his stepfather, a simple arm fart would send his sister into peals of worshipful laughter. She was the ray of sunshine that allowed him to survive his teenage years living under Lloyd Davis’s roof.

And then Lloyd died and everything had changed.

Jay’s knuckles were white, he was gripping his fork so tightly. “Who’s
the father?”

Defiance, pure and strong, was shining in Charlie’s eyes. That look didn’t faze Jay, though. He’d been dealing with it since his sister had been in her Terrible Twos.

“None of your business.”

“I take it that means you actually know who the father is?”

She recoiled as if he’d slapped her and, for an instant, Jay felt like the horrible creature that the business magazines
had labeled him as.

“Wow,” she said. “You really have become an insufferable ass, haven’t you? How dare you ask me that!”

If Charlie had been expecting an explosion from Jay, she was about to be satisfied. He jumped from his stool feeling like his chest was going to rupture. “How dare I? How about how dare you, traipsing around the world with a silver spoon stuck up your ass all these
years? You and your jet-setting
friends—the so-called beautiful people—partying it up on their daddie’s dime like a bunch of lazy, spoiled hooligans,” he yelled. “You live in some alternative world from the rest of us, played out on the cover of tabloid magazines and episodes of TMZ
,
thumbing your nose at your mother, your future, and the freakin’ law!”

Charlie had plastered herself against
the large refrigerator when Jay began advancing on her. The look of defiance on her face had been replaced by one of horror. “I don’t remember much about my father,” she whispered. “But I’m pretty sure you’ve become him.”

Jay swore violently. His sister couldn’t have picked a better weapon to wound him with. Too bad she was right. He took a moment to reflect on what he’d just shouted at her
and realized too late he’d been channeling his dead stepfather. He swore again.

“It’s always going to be about the money, isn’t it?” she asked.

He raked a hand through his hair and reached for the remains of his Scotch. When Lloyd had passed away suddenly from a brain aneurysm, his will had distinctly favored Charlotte, his only biological child. Their mother was given the majority of
Lloyd’s shares in the body armor company—after all, she’d been the textile engineer who’d originally designed the suits. But the vast majority of her husband’s income was derived from other sources and all of it went to his daughter. Jay was left empty-handed after twelve years of towing the line in his stepfather’s orbit.

Jay sucked in a deep breath. “Look around you, Charlotte. Do you think
Lloyd’s refusal to acknowledge me as his stepson hurt me that much?”

Her hair made a brushing sound against the stainless steel as she shook her head from side to side. “Not in a material way, no. But it did hurt you in ways that can’t be quantified: in your heart.”

A harsh laugh escaped his lips. “You obviously haven’t been reading past your cover photo on the tabloids, little sister.
I don’t have a heart.”

“Yes, you do.” A single tear trailed down her cheek. “It’s just been roughed up a bit.”

He swallowed painfully as he reached over to wipe the moisture off his sister’s cheek. “We’re one hell of a dysfunctional family.”

Charlie’s lips twitched. “You need to travel in my circle more often if you think that’s true.”

“No, thanks. Just look how well it’s worked
for you.” His words brought the defiant scowl back to her face and Jay raised his hands up to his chest in mock surrender. “What’s done is done. Let’s just move on from here. Do you have a plan?”
Please say you have one that doesn’t involve me.

Her hand moved to rest over her still-flat belly in an innately protective move. An image of Bridgett making the very same gesture years ago filtered
through his mind, bringing his heart to a standstill in his chest.
Damn.
Apparently, he was going to need the rest of that bottle of Scotch to get through this night.

“Things are still in flux, right now,” she said. “I just need a safe place to land until I can sort things out.”

“Meaning sort things out with the baby’s father?” Jay had to work to keep his question from coming out as a
growl.

“I haven’t decided whether the father needs to be involved or not.”

Jay slammed his eyes shut and counted to ten.

“Please, Jay,” she pleaded. “I need to work this out for myself. I just need you to be a supportive big brother right now. You’re all I have.”

“You have a mother.”

“Please, you know how the Absentminded Professor will react,” she scoffed. “She’ll behave as
if the Earth has fallen out of orbit somehow. She’s the last person who needs to know.”

While Jay agreed with Charlie’s assessment of their mother, he still didn’t feel comfortable keeping something so important from her. “This isn’t something she needs to find out about on the baby’s birthday, Charlie.”

A ghost of a victory smile formed on her lips. “I’ll tell her
soon, I promise. Just
let me hang here until I’ve made some decisions.”

Jay sighed. There was never a question that he wouldn’t give Charlie anything she asked for. He just hoped that this time, she wasn’t dragging him into something that money couldn’t fix.

•   •   •

“I so don’t want to sit next to you.” Bridgett’s sister Gwen said as she plopped down into the stadium seat beside her. “I mean, look at
you. You’re at a football game dressed in Michael Kors while I’m wearing designer Kohl’s.”

Bridgett glanced over at the oldest sibling in the Janik family. Gwen was pushing forty—a fact that she wasn’t afraid of announcing to anyone within earshot. The mother of two kids, she was perpetually unhappy unless she was running someone else’s life. Her husband, Skip—a buffoon in Bridgett’s opinion—was
an orthodontist whom Gwen had put through dental school. Since their father and grandfather were both dentists, Gwen had considered it quite a coup to land one of her own.

Once Skip had established his practice, she’d worked in his office for several years before kids. Now she worked as Brody’s personal assistant, a job that enabled her to be home with her children and presumably run roughshod
over their little brother’s life at the same time. Although, given Brody’s recent marriage, that might no longer be the case, which explained why her sister was in a bitchier mood than normal.

“That outfit looks great on you, Gwen.” As the middle child of five, Bridgett did her best to keep the peace in the Janik family.

Gwen scoffed. “Puh-leaze, do you know how frustrating it is to be
the unstylish sister here? Between you and Ashley, I don’t stand a chance.” She reached for a nacho off Bridgett’s plate and shoved it in her mouth.

Bridgett locked eyes with her sister Ashley, a buyer for Nordstrom department store and Brody’s fashion adviser since birth. Ashley was desperately trying to avoid their
conversation, taking up a position at the railing of the boxed seats their
brother always provided for family and friends. Despite having two kids, Ashley still maintained a successful career. It didn’t hurt that her husband, Mark, was a schoolteacher and could help with the kids more than most working fathers. Still, Gwen seemed to resent both women equally. Their youngest sister, Tricia, a nurse, had recently married an Army physician who was stationed in Korea. Asia
was a long way to go to avoid Gwen’s meddling, but right now, Bridgett was considering it.

Ashley bit back a grimace in response to Bridgett’s death glare, reluctantly wandering over to where the two women were sitting. “Bridgett’s right, that color really looks fabulous on you,” Ashley said as she took a seat on the other side of Bridgett. The stadium crowd cheered when the players took the
field for their pregame warm-ups and Bridgett clapped along with them, relieved to have reinforcements. Today had already been grueling enough. The media storm surrounding the Blaze had taken on a life of its own, with women’s groups seizing the opportunity to get in front of a camera by protesting in front of the stadium.

The bright midday sun warmed their faces and she relaxed while Ashley
deftly changed the subject. “The kids love the books you brought back from Italy, Bridge. The pictures are so beautiful. They missed you at the Cape this summer. We all did. And now it sounds like you’ll be here in Baltimore again.”

Refusing to be cowed by family guilt, Bridgett sighed. “Both cases will be short-lived, hopefully, and I’ll be back by Christmas.” She adjusted her sunglasses
to avoid having to look at the picture of Jay McManus that had just flashed up on the Jumbotron. Her stomach turned when she recognized his arm candy as none other than Charlotte Davis, the snotty little rich girl who hadn’t met a tabloid cover she didn’t like.

“I hope so,” Ashley was saying. “Remember Mark’s college roommate, Jake? He was best man at our wedding. Well, he recently moved back
to Boston. He and his wife split up.
Anyone could have seen that coming. She was way too needy for him. I think you would be perfect for him, though.”

Gwen snatched another nacho off Bridgett’s plate. “Well, Bridgett definitely wouldn’t ever be called needy. Wait, isn’t Jake the one who tried to surf in the hotel pool with one of the deck chairs the night before the wedding? He ended up with
a black eye and chipped tooth in the wedding pictures.” She laughed around a mouthful of chips. “Kind of funny considering how many dentists were at the reception.”

Ashley let out a snort of disgust. “Kind of funny that it was Skip who led the surfing party.”

Bridgett ignored their bickering as she stared at the big screen. Despite her attempts to look away, her eyes were trained on the
image of Jay as though he were a magnet. The familiar vibe he and the gorgeous redhead were giving off was so intimate it made Bridgett’s mouth dry. She grabbed for her diet drink and took a long pull through the straw, slamming her eyes shut so she wouldn’t have to endure any more. It had been five days since she’d seen Jay, much less had her tongue tangled up with his. Just thinking about their
kiss in his conference room, her body grew tense with shame and arousal at the same time.

Thankfully, when she opened her eyes Jay was no longer being displayed three stories high. Unfortunately, her sisters were still debating her personal life. Or lack of personal life, to hear Gwen and Ashley tell it.

“Bridgett isn’t going to be interested in some car salesman,” Gwen was saying.

“Jake isn’t a car salesman. His family
owns
a string of car
dealerships
,” Ashley argued.

Gwen shrugged. “That’s not the same as owning a football team. You should take advantage of the face time you’re going to get while defending that gorgeous Jay McManus against those cheerleaders, Bridge. Although, I think they should get paid a lot more for having to wear those skimpy outfits, so maybe
you could work some kind of compromise. Especially if it’s one where
you
get compromised by the blazing-hot owner of the Blaze.”

Ashley’s face was aghast as she gaped at Gwen, who was looking pretty proud of her herself and her pun. Bridgett pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head to stare down both of her sisters. “Gwen, as usual, you’re being absurd. The man is my client.”

“For
now.” Gwen wiggled her eyebrows. “But you just said the case will be short-lived. You just need to loosen up that bossy-pants personality of yours and make him want you.”

“That is so not going to happen,” Bridgett stated emphatically.

“Why not? Don’t tell me you’re too good for him, too?” Gwen leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Or is Skip right? Are you not interested in guys?”

Ashley
inhaled a sharp breath as Bridgett groaned in disbelief.
Just another reason to not like Skip.

Gwen went on, undeterred. “I keep telling him he’s wrong. Instead you’re just selfish. You don’t want to share your money. Or mess up your perfect little body by having kids.”

“Gwen!” Ashley practically shouted.

Bridgett was beginning to feel light-headed. Her sister had always been blunt,
but her mean streak was new. If Bridgett wasn’t so hurt by her sister’s words, she might take a moment to analyze what was really troubling Gwen. But right now she didn’t care. She shoved her plate of half-eaten nachos onto Gwen’s lap and stood up.