Bedded by a Playboy Read online

  The situation didn’t seem quite so funny any more.

  ‘Damn it.’ Monroe let go of Miss Firecracker. She turned, glared at him, her green eyes sparking with fury, and then dashed over to the pregnant lady.

  ‘Who are you and what the hell are you doing on my property?’ the man bellowed.

  Monroe held up his hands and tried to think fast. The guy was maybe an inch over his own six feet two and well built, but the tailored pants and pricey designer polo shirt he wore made him look rich and cultured. Monroe figured he could take him. But he couldn’t swing at the guy when he had a kid beside him. And he didn’t want to add assault to a trespassing charge if the cops arrived. Which left diplomacy as his only option.

  ‘I just took a swim in your pool. I thought the place was empty.’

  ‘Well, it’s not.’ The big guy ground the words out, his ice-blue eyes blazing with temper. ‘Stay with Jessie, Emmy,’ he said as he pushed the little girl behind him.

  Monroe spotted Miss Firecracker take hold of the child’s hand. The redhead was still glaring at him—and starting to look very self-satisfied.

  The guy pushed the sleeves of his polo shirt up forearms that were ridged with muscle. ‘I’m going to teach this idiot a lesson.’

  A sick feeling in his gut, Monroe realised he’d have to take the punch. He closed his eyes, braced for the pain.

  Then the pregnant lady shouted, ‘Stop, Linc, stop!’

  When nothing happened, Monroe risked opening one eye. The woman had a hold of the man’s arm but she was staring right at him. ‘Who are you?’ she asked softly.

  ‘Nobody, ma’am. All I took was a swim.’ If only he could just deck the guy and get out of here.

  ‘You’re Monroe.’ She said the words so quietly, Monroe wasn’t sure he’d heard her right.

  ‘What the hell is going on?’ Mr Furious shouted back, still busting to take a swing at him.

  ‘Linc, he’s your brother. Can’t you see the resemblance?’

  Oh, hell. It hit Monroe just who these people were. He tried to swallow past the boulder in his throat, but his mouth had gone bone-dry. All he’d wanted was a quick swim and now look what he’d done.

  ‘Monroe?’ The big guy looked as if he’d taken a punch to the gut. Monroe knew how he felt.

  He hadn’t seen that face since he was ten years old, but now that he looked at it properly, Monroe recognised it all right. The guy had the same clear blue eyes as he did. And that mouth, that chin—didn’t he see virtually the same ones in the mirror every time he remembered to shave?

  ‘I should split,’ Monroe mumbled.

  Every one of them—his brother, the pregnant lady, who he figured must be his brother’s wife, even the little girl and the woman with the flaming hair—was staring at him as if he’d grown two heads.

  ‘I never thought I’d see you again.’ His brother’s voice was thready, his eyes shadowed.

  ‘It’s no big deal. It’s a mistake. I shouldn’t have used your pool.’ Boy, was that the truth.

  ‘I don’t give a damn about the pool,’ his brother said weakly.

  ‘I need to go.’ Monroe glanced at Miss Firecracker. She wasn’t looking smug any more. Her face had gone stoplight-red to match that rioting hair.

  His brother’s wife stepped forward. ‘You can’t go, Monroe.’ Her deep green eyes were steady on his. ‘You and Linc have a lot of catching up to do. We want you to stay for a while. That’s why we invited you.’

  She seemed as if she meant it. Monroe felt honour-bound to set her straight. He didn’t belong here; couldn’t she see that? ‘Look, ma’am, it’s nice of you to ask me—’ he huffed out a breath ‘—but I’m going to get on my way.’

  He heard his brother curse, but his wife just shook her head, sadly. ‘You’re Linc’s brother. You’re family, Monroe. We want little Emily here to get to know you. You’re her uncle.’

  Monroe’s gaze flicked to the little girl who was whispering furiously to Miss Firecracker and gazing at him in that penetrating way only kids could pull off.

  He wasn’t her uncle. He wasn’t anyone’s family.

  ‘I’m Ali, by the way, Linc’s wife,’ the pregnant woman continued. ‘That’s our daughter Emmy and my sister Jessie.’

  Monroe gave a stiff nod, the little girl waved back at him and said, ‘Hi,’ but the redhead just continued to stare at him. She didn’t look anywhere near as welcoming as her sister.

  ‘We’ve got five bedrooms in this place, Monroe,’ his sister-in-law said as her fingers settled on his arm. ‘Surely you can stay for a while and get to know us all.’ The determination on her face told him there was no way she was going to let him bolt. The sinking sensation in his stomach dipped lower.

  ‘I’m not staying in your home.’ On that, he was firm.

  ‘There’s an apartment above the garage that will give you privacy.’

  Monroe wondered if his sister-in-law had been a steamroller in a former life.

  ‘Linc, why don’t you take your brother into the house? Get him a beer, and then you can show him where he’ll be staying.’

  ‘Sure. Grab your stuff, Roe.’

  The nickname reverberated in Monroe’s mind, no one had called him that in close to twenty years.

  ‘I think we both deserve a beer,’ Linc said as he gave him a rueful smile. The crooked twist of his lips stabbed at Monroe’s memory again.

  ‘Hold on.’ He hadn’t agreed to anything, had he? But as he tried to form a protest, his sister-in-law picked up his T-shirt and shoved it on top of the boots in his arms.

  ‘Hell,’ Monroe grumbled as the brother he’d never intended to see again led him into his home.

  Jessie gaped at her would-be trespasser as he padded past her, carrying his boots and T-shirt with a bewildered look on his face. If she could just get her jaw off the floor, she might be able to speak.

  Linc had a brother? She’d had no idea.

  ‘Can you believe that?’ Ali’s face beamed. ‘I wrote that letter to his old probation officer over a year ago on an off chance. I can’t believe he’s finally here.’

  ‘His probation officer!’ Jessie choked out the words. ‘So he really is a criminal!’

  ‘Don’t sound so shocked. He was little more than a child when he went to jail. From what Jerry Myers told me, he’s been clean as a whistle for the last fourteen years.’

  Jessie didn’t believe it. Did law-abiding citizens sneak into other people’s houses and use their pools? Did they manhandle women they didn’t even know? She didn’t think so.

  ‘By the way—’ Ali sent her a saucy smile ‘—you guys looked like you were having fun when we arrived.’

  Jessie stiffened. ‘I thought he was a trespasser or worse. I wasn’t having fun. I was trying to get away from him.’

  ‘I see.’ Ali looked doubtful. ‘So that would explain why he was whispering sweet nothings in your ear, then, would it?’

  Jessie’s cheeks flamed. ‘Actually, he was being rude and obnoxious.’ She glared at her sister. ‘He was having a ball trying to scare me to death.’

  ‘It serves you right for haring off to confront him in the first place.’

  ‘What?’

  Ali waved away Jessie’s indignant shout. ‘Come on. We better get in there and make sure Linc doesn’t let him get away.’

  ‘I’m not going in there,’ Jessie snapped back. ‘I never want to see That Man again.’

  ‘Jess, you can’t avoid Monroe. If Linc and I have our way, he’ll be here for a while.’

  What was wrong with her sister? Couldn’t she see the guy was trouble with a capital T? ‘I think you and Linc are insane for inviting him, Ali. You don’t even know him.’

  The twinkle in Ali’s eyes dimmed. ‘I’m sorry I teased you. I shouldn’t have. What happened by the pool was probably a bit of a shock.’

  ‘I’ll say.’ At last, Ali was seeing sense.

  ‘But you’re going to have to apologise to Monroe about it.’


  ‘You can’t be serious.’ Was her sister insane? ‘I’m not apologising to him. He was trespassing.’

  ‘No, he wasn’t,’ Ali replied softly. ‘We invited him, remember?’

  ‘But that’s not the point.’

  ‘Look, Jess. I can’t explain this thing with Linc and Monroe to you properly. It’s complicated. It has to do with their childhood.’

  ‘Really?’ A kernel of curiosity pierced Jessie’s anger.

  Jessie knew there was something wrong with Linc’s family—the only person he’d ever mentioned was his British grandmother who’d died years ago. From the little Jessie knew, he’d spent his summers with her as a child, but he never spoke about the American side of his family and neither did Ali. But still, having met That Man, she wasn’t convinced Linc needed to get to know him again. The guy had ‘deadbeat’ written all over him.

  ‘I can’t tell you about it, Jess. Linc wouldn’t want me to.’ Ali paused, seemed to struggle to find the right words. ‘Since we had Emmy, it’s been important to Linc to find his brother. He may not be able to have a relationship with Monroe. But the fact that he’s here is important. Linc needs to make sure he’s okay.’

  Jessie looked at her sister and thought she understood.

  Ali and Linc were such fantastic parents, they just naturally wanted to watch over everyone. It was the thing she admired most about them. Their devotion to Emmy and to each other had made her yearn for a home and a family of her own.

  Jessie didn’t think for a minute that the man who had been taking a dip in their pool needed anyone to watch over him. She could see, though, she wasn’t going to be able to convince her sister of that. She heaved a sigh of frustration. ‘If it’s that important, I won’t get involved.’

  ‘Jess, you are involved. You’re here and so is he. Couldn’t you make peace with him? I don’t want him to feel uncomfortable. It’s taken us years to find him and get him here. I want Linc and him to have a chance.’

  Put like that, what choice did Jessie have? Ali and Linc had done so much for her. They’d comforted her when she’d broken up with Toby. She was sure they’d only invited her to stay with them this summer because they’d been worried about her. She could never refuse them anything.

  ‘Oh, all right.’ But she’d be keeping her eye on Linc’s bad-boy brother. No one took advantage of her family.

  ‘Great.’ Ali’s eyes warmed. ‘Once Linc has helped Monroe settle into the garage apartment, why don’t you go over there with some clean sheets and towels? Show him there are no hard feelings, then you could invite him back to the house for dinner.’

  Jessie groaned as her sister waddled off towards the house.

  Flipping fantastic! How exactly had she gone from being Bruce Willis in Die Hard 2 to the welcoming committee from The Stepford Wives?

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘NICE place you got here,’ Monroe said to Linc as they walked through the lush landscaped gardens towards the garage. Talk about an understatement, Monroe thought. A spread like this must have cost well into the millions.

  There had to be at least two acres of grounds. They came to the large three-car garage, nestled at the end of the estate. Monroe was glad to see the two-storey building was a good distance from the main house, constructed in the same wood and glass.

  Monroe knew his brother had done well for himself, built his own computer software company up from scratch. Monroe had picked up on a few magazine articles over the years about the Latimer Corporation and its successes. Still, he’d never given any thought to what that meant. His brother was a stranger, so why would he? But now his brother’s wealth was staring him right in the face, he could see Linc and he weren’t just strangers. They were from different worlds.

  ‘It does the job,’ Linc replied mildly.

  Linc led the way round the side of the building. Monroe followed his brother up the outside steps.

  ‘Your wife’s English, right?’ Maybe a bit of polite conversation would help ease the knot in his gut.

  ‘Ali, yeah. We live in London most of the year, her family’s there. But we vacation every summer in Long Island. We’ll be here through September.’

  ‘Right,’ Monroe grunted. No way would he be here that long. Hearing the affection in his brother’s voice as he talked about his family had made the knot in Monroe’s gut tighten.

  Linc opened the door to the apartment and flicked on the main light switch. Recessed spotlights illuminated the spacious, airy room. With a new kitchen and breakfast bar on one side and a comfortable, expensively furnished living area on the other, the room looked clean, modern and barely used.

  ‘It’s only two rooms and a bath,’ Linc said.

  Two rooms or not, it was the most luxurious accommodation Monroe had seen let alone stayed in for a very long time.

  ‘It’s a good thing we had it fixed up over the winter,’ Linc said, opening the French doors at the end of the room that led onto a small balcony. ‘Or we wouldn’t have had a place to offer you.’

  Monroe frowned. He needed to put the brakes on, before Linc got the wrong idea. ‘It’s nice of you to offer. But I don’t know if I’ll be staying more than a night. I’ve got stuff to do in New York and I don’t have a lot of dough at the moment.’

  It wasn’t the truth. He’d worked like a dog the last six months so he could afford to spend a few clear months painting. He had stacks of sketches stuffed in his duffel bag that he wanted to get on canvas. He’d had a vague offer to tend bar that came with a room in Brooklyn where he’d been hoping to settle while he got it done.

  Painting was Monroe Latimer’s secret passion. Ever since he’d taken one of the art classes they’d offered during his second stretch inside, painting had been his lifeline. In those early days, it had been an escape from the ugliness and the sheer boredom of life in a cage. After he’d got out, it was the thing that had kept him centred, kept him sane. He always gave the pictures away or simply burned them when he had to move on. The process was the only thing that mattered to him. Making the oils work for him and putting the visions in his head onto canvas. He didn’t need family and possessions. He could put up with the drudgery of dead-end jobs and enjoy his rootless existence, if every six months or so he got the chance to stop and create.

  He wasn’t about to tell his brother any of that, though. After all, he didn’t know the guy.

  ‘Monroe, if you’re short right now, surely it’d be good to crash here for a while.’

  Monroe stiffened. Pride was the one thing he never compromised.

  The irony of the situation, though, didn’t escape him.

  When he’d been sixteen and desperate, after his first stretch in juvie, he’d been prepared to do anything to survive. Mooching off his rich brother back then wouldn’t have bothered him; in fact, he would probably have enjoyed screwing the guy over. But in all of the years since, Monroe Latimer had learned a lot about self-control and a whole lot more about self-respect. He’d sworn to himself after that second stretch that he would never go back to that horror again. To do that, he’d stayed clean, and he’d learned to rely on nobody but himself.

  ‘I’m not a freeloader.’ Monroe forced the words out, trying to quell his annoyance.

  Linc sighed, his voice weary. ‘I know that, but you are family.’

  ‘I’m not family.’ Monroe watched his brother frown at the words. Tough. He needed to get this straight once and for all. ‘We weren’t that close as kids, but even if we had been, that was a million years ago. You’re not obligated to me any more than I am to you. We’re strangers.’

  ‘All right, stop.’ Linc held up his hand. ‘I understand what you’re saying, Roe,’ he said slowly. ‘Like you say, we’re strangers. Don’t you think I don’t know that?’

  ‘Then why the hell did you invite me?’

  ‘Why did you come?’

  The quick rejoinder had Monroe stumbling to a halt. Why the hell had he come? ‘I don’t know. Just curious, I guess.’

 
‘Well, maybe that’s enough for now.’ Linc walked across the living area. ‘Let me at least show you the rest of the place, before you run out on us.’

  Monroe was thinking he should do just that when Linc flung open the door to the apartment’s bedroom and his mind went blank.

  The wall of glass at the far side of the room flooded it with mid-afternoon light. He could see the pool patio across the gardens, and the ocean beyond. Surf tumbled onto shore on an empty beach of white sand. The view was stunning, but it wasn’t that which made his blood slow, his heart thud against his chest. With its walls painted pristine white and only a bed and a small chest for furniture, the room was so bright and airy, he’d never seen a better place to paint. Always before, he’d had to be satisfied with dingy rented rooms or, one memorable summer, a broken-down trailer next to a car dump in Virginia. He’d never had a studio before, had never thought he wanted one, but, seeing the play of sunlight across one wall, he wanted this one.

  ‘You like it?’ Linc’s question interrupted his thoughts.

  ‘Yeah, I do.’ Monroe couldn’t disguise the leap of joy in his voice. He refused to let his doubts surface. Couldn’t he have this one thing, just for a little while? He’d pay his way; he’d make sure of it. ‘Looks like you’ve got a house guest for a while.’

  ‘Great.’ Linc smiled back at him.

  ‘But what I said about being a freeloader still goes.’ Monroe walked to the glass and peered down at the garden below. ‘You got anyone to do your yard work?’

  Linc frowned as he stood beside him, looked down, too. ‘No, the old guy who used to do it’s having trouble with his arthritis. I figured I’d hire a local kid to keep it under control till Dan gets back on his feet.’

  ‘No need.’ Monroe took his eyes away from the window. ‘While I’m here, I’ll handle it. Looks like the lawn could use a cut. You got a mower in the garage?’

  ‘Yes, but…’ Linc’s eyes narrowed. ‘Monroe, I don’t want you doing the yard work. It isn’t necessary.’