Beth Kery - Because We Belong

Her clothing selection hadn’t done much to help Kam blend in, however. He was too large for the delicate chairs lined up at the super sleek, minimalist bar. He stuck out like a sore thumb in the trendy establishment, all bold, masculine lines and unrelenting angles.

No . . . not like a sore thumb, Lin amended. More like a lion that found itself in the midst of a herd of antelope. His utter stillness and watchful alertness seemed slightly ominous amidst the sea of idly chatting, well-heeled patrons.

Suddenly, she realized his gaze had locked on her from across the crowded dining area.

“Hello, beautiful. We have your table waiting,” someone said.

Lin blinked and pulled her gaze off the man who was a stranger to her, and yet wasn’t; her boss’s infamous half brother—the wild man she’d been sent to tame.

She focused instead on Richard St. Claire’s smiling face. Richard was a neighbor, friend, and the manager of the restaurant, Savaur. He owned the world-renowned establishment with his partner, chef Emile Savaur. Lin was a regular here.

She returned Richard’s greeting warmly as they hugged and he kissed her on the cheek. “Can you hold the table for just a moment, Richard? My dinner companion is waiting at the bar. I’d like to go and introduce myself,” Lin said, turning as he began to remove her coat.

“Mr. Tall, Dark, and Scowling?” Richard muttered under his breath as he draped her coat elegantly over his forearm, looking amused. He noticed her surprised glance as she faced him again. How did Richard know her dinner companion was the man at the bar? “You mentioned you were having dinner with Noble’s half brother on the phone when you made the reservations. I noticed the resemblance. I can’t wait to hear the story behind this little scenario,” Richard said with a mischievous glance in Kam’s direction. “He’s like Ian Noble posing as a Brazilian street fighter.”

Lin stifled a laugh at the apt description. “He’s actually cleaned up quite nicely. Not six months ago, the people from the village near where he lived thought him homeless and mad. And he’s not Brazilian, he’s French,” she said very quietly, dipping her head to hide her moving mouth. She smoothed her expression, acutely aware of Kam’s sharp gaze still cast in her direction.

“I know—the accent. Not that he said much. He’s been sitting at the bar looking like he’s been chewing nails for the past ten minutes. Victor doesn’t know if he’s scared to death of the man or in love with him,” Richard murmured, referring to the bartender serving Kam. Indeed, Victor was surreptitiously studying the tower of whiskered, glowering brawn seated at the bar with a mixture of wariness and stark admiration as he dried a glass.

Lin threw her friend an amused glance and walked over to meet Ian’s brother. Kam was one of the few people seated at the teak bar, a half-full glass of beer in front of him.

“I’m so sorry for being late. Work was crazy, and there wasn’t a single available cab to be found when I finally did get away. You must be Kam. I’d have recognized you anywhere,” she said when she approached him, smiling in greeting. “Ian never told me how much you two resembled one another.”

He turned slightly in his chair, giving her an unhurried once-over. She remained completely still beneath his perusal, her expression calm and impassive. Inwardly, she squirmed. Ian had also failed to warn her of the fact that Kam Reardon oozed raw sex appeal.

Although it couldn’t have been any more than a second that he studied her, it felt like minutes before he finally met her stare. She recognized the sharp edge of male appreciation in his eye. A strange sensation rippled down her spine. Was it excitement? Or that uncommon brand of lust that strikes like lightning during a rare, uncommon rush of attraction. His face and form were similar to Ian’s, although up close, there were notable differences: the nose was slightly larger, the skin swarthier, the mouth fuller, the hair not quite as dark, with hints of russet in the thick waves. Ian would certainly never go into public with a day-and-a-half growth of dark stubble on his jaw. Although Kam’s clothing was suitable for the restaurant, it was far more casual than Ian’s typical Savile Row suits. It was like seeing Ian in some kind of magical mirror—a shadowy, savage version of her debonair boss. Kam’s silvery gray eyes with the defining black ring around the iris were certainly strikingly unique. Or at least the effect they had on Lin was.

“Ian probably never noticed our similarity. He’s never seen me without a full beard,” he replied. Another stark difference. Much like her grandmamma, who had learned English in Hong Kong, Ian’s accent was all crisp, cool control. This man’s French-accented, rough voice struck her like a gentle, arousing abrasion along the skin of her neck and ear.

She put out her hand. “I’m Lin Soong. As you probably already know, I work for Ian. I can’t tell you what a pleasure it is to finally meet you.”

He took her hand but didn’t shake it, merely grasped it and held on. His hand was large and warm, encompassing her own. The pad of his forefinger pressed lightly against her inner wrist.

“Does my brother make a habit of overworking minors?” he asked.

She flushed, the temporary trance inspired by his voice and touch fracturing. She knew she looked younger than her age, especially with her makeup faded from the mist and her hair curling around her face like a dark cloud. Besides, she was young for the position she held at Noble Enterprises as Ian’s right-hand woman.

“I’m hardly a minor. Ian seems to find me capable enough for all my duties,” she said smoothly, arching her brows in a mild, amused remonstrance.

“No doubt.” His finger moved on her wrist and she suddenly pulled her hand away, afraid he’d notice the leap in her pulse.

“Actually, I’m twenty-eight,” she said.

“Isn’t that young for the position you hold at Noble Enterprises? Ian can’t seem to function without you,” he said, studying her narrowly.

“You might say I was groomed for the role. My grandmother was the vice president of finance for Noble. She’d get me summer internships during college and graduate school.”

“And one day you ended up in Ian’s lap?” he asked, silvery-gray eyes gleaming with what appeared to be a mixture of humor and interest. “Does your grandmother still work for Ian?”

“No. She passed two years ago this Christmas.”

Her breath stuck when he reached around her waist. Was he going to touch her? She jumped slightly when a chair leg made a scraping sound on the wood floor. She exhaled when she realized he was pulling back on the chair next to him so that she could sit.

“Our table is actually ready,” she explained.

“I’d rather eat at the bar.”

“Of course,” she said, refusing to be flustered. She set down her briefcase in the seat next to her and reached for her chair. A frown creased his brow and he stood. “Thank you,” she murmured, surprised when she realized he’d grudgingly stood to seat her. Maybe he wasn’t so rough around the edges after all.

“You’re a cool one,” he said as he sat back down next to her, his jeans-covered knees brushing her hip and thigh.

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged slightly, his gaze glittering on her face. “I thought you’d take offense to sitting at the bar.”

“Don’t you mean you’d hoped I would?” she challenged quietly. She transferred her gaze to Victor when the bartender approached, speaking before Kam had a chance to refute her. “Victor often serves me at the bar when I stumble in after a long day’s work. He takes good care of me,” she said.