Jennifer Lewis - The Kincaids - New Money - Behind Boardroom Doors

The Kincaids Collection

THE KINCAIDS: SOUTHERN SEDUCTION

March 2013

THE KINCAIDS: NEW MONEY

April 2013

THE KINCAIDS: PRIVATE MERGERS

May 2013

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JENNIFER LEWIShas been dreaming up stories for as long as she can remember and is thrilled to be able to share them with readers. She has lived on both sides of the Atlantic and worked in media and the arts before she grew bold enough to put pen to paper. She would love to hear from readers at jen@jenlewis.com. visit her website at www.jenlewis.com.

Dear Reader,

I still remember the first time I discovered romance novels. I was working in mid-town Manhattan, around the corner from the Donnell Library. On my lunch breaks I often headed to the library looking for something to read and before long I noticed the big rack of series romance novels. I don’t remember which book I picked up first, but it didn’t take me long to get hooked.

I loved the strong, savvy characters in every book and the interesting mix of settings. I looked forward to plunging into each new romance and following the ups and downs of the couple’s road to their happy ending. I also enjoyed the short length of the stories, which allowed me to ride the whole rollercoaster in a day.

Eventually I grew daring enough to try my hand at writing, though it took many years before I honed my craft enough to bear the precious logo. This book is my fourteenth and I hope you enjoy Brooke and RJ’s romance!

Happy reading,

Jennifer Lewis

For Pippa, international pony of mystery and cherished member of our family

“There is one good thing about this situation.” RJ Kincaid slammed his phone down on the conference table, his voice cracking with fury.

“What’s that?” Brooke Nichols stared at her boss. She failed to see a bright side.

“Now we know things cannot possibly get any worse.” His eyes flashed and he leaned forward in his chair. The other staff in the meeting sat like statues. “My calls to the prosecutor’s office, the police, the courts, the state senator—have all been ignored.”

He stood and marched around the table. “The Kincaid family is under siege and they’re firing on us from all angles.” Tall and imposing at the best of times, with bold features, dark hair and smoky slate-blue eyes, RJ now looked like a general striding into battle. “And my mother, Elizabeth Winthrop Kincaid, the finest woman in Charleston, will be spending tonight behind bars like a common criminal.”

He let out a string of curses that made Brooke shrink into her chair. She’d worked for RJ for five years and she’d never seen him like this. Normally he was the most easygoing man you could meet, never rattled by even the most intense negotiations, with time for everyone and a nonchalant approach to life.

Of course that was before his father’s murder and the revelation that his privileged and entitled existence was founded on lies.

RJ walked over to his brother Matthew. “You’re the director of new business—is there any new business?”

Matthew inhaled. They both knew the answer. Even some of their most stalwart clients had fled the company in the aftermath of the scandal. “There is the Larrimore account.”

“Yes, I suppose we do have one new account to hang our hopes on. Greg, how are the books looking?” RJ strode around to the CFO and for a moment she thought he was going to collar him.

Mild-mannered Greg shrank into his chair. “As you know, we’re experiencing challenges—”

“Challenges!” RJ cut him off, raising his hands in the air in a dramatic gesture. “That’s one way of looking at it. A challenge is an opportunity for growth, a time to rise up and seize opportunity, to embrace change.”

He turned and walked back across the room. Everyone sat rigid in their chairs, probably praying he wouldn’t accost them.

“But what I see here is a company on the brink of going under.” RJ shoved a hand through his thick, dark hair. His handsome features were hard with anger. “And all of you are just sitting in your chairs taking notes as if we’re at some garden party. Get up and get out there and do something, for Chrissakes!”

No one moved an inch. Brooke rose from her chair, unable to stop herself. “Urn …” She had to get him out of here. He was acting like a jerk and if he continued like this he’d do himself permanent harm in the company.

“Yes, Brooke?” He turned to face her, and lifted an eyebrow. His eyes met hers and a jolt of energy surged in her blood.

“I need to speak to you outside.” She picked up her laptop and headed for the door, heart pounding. He could probably fire her on the spot in his current mood, but she wasn’t doing her job if she let him insult and harangue employees who were already under a lot of pressure and stress through no fault of their own.

“I’m sure it can wait.” He frowned and gestured to the gathered meeting.

“Just for a moment. Please.” She continued toward the door, hoping he’d follow.

“Apparently my assistant’s need to consult with me in private is more urgent than the imminent collapse of The Kincaid Group, and the imprisonment of my mother. Since it’s the end of the day I’m sure you also have better places to be. Meeting dismissed.”

RJ moved to the door in time to hold it open for her. A wave of heat and adrenaline rose inside her as she passed him, her arm almost brushing against his. He closed the door and followed her out. In the hush of the carpeted hallway Brooke almost lost her nerve. “In your office, please.”

“I don’t have time to loll about in my office. My mother’s in the county jail in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Brooke reminded herself his rudeness was the result of extreme stress. “Trust me. It’s important.” Her own firm tone surprised her. She walked ahead into the spacious corner office with views of the Charleston waterfront. The sunset cast a warm amber glow over the water reflected on the walls in moving patterns. “Come on in.”

RJ sauntered into the room, then crossed his arms. “Happy now?”

“Sit down.” She closed the door and locked it.

“What?”

Her resolve faltered as her boss glared at her.

“On the couch.” She pointed to it, in case he’d forgotten where it was. She almost blushed at the way it sounded as she said it. What a lovelorn secretary’s fantasy! But this situation was serious. “I’m going to pour you a whiskey and you’re going to drink it.”

He didn’t move. “Have you lost your mind?”

“No, but you’re beginning to lose yours and you need to step back and take a deep breath before you damage your reputation. You can’t talk to employees like that, no matter what the circumstances. Now sit.” She pointed at the sofa again.

A stunned RJ lowered himself onto it.

Brooke poured three fingers of whisky into a crystal tumbler with shaking hands. Everything really did seem to be going to hell in a handbasket for RJ. Until now he’d faced each disaster with composure, but apparently he’d reached his breaking point.

Their fingers touched as she handed him the glass, and she cursed the subtle buzz of awareness that always haunted her around RJ. “Here, this will settle your nerves.”

“My nerves are just fine.” He took a sip. “It’s everything else that’s screwed up. The police can’t really believe my mother killed my father!”