“Sean—” He paused and frowned. “Damn. You look like hell.”
Thanks to videophone conferencing, there was no disguising his hangover. For the first time in his life, Sean cursed technology. “Yeah, thanks Rafe. Nice to see you, too.”
His brother’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Are you hungover?”
“Brilliant observation,” Sean said tightly as he struggled with the cap on the aspirin bottle. Childproof, okay. But did they have to seal the damn thing as if it contained the nuclear codes for Armageddon?
“Hard to miss, what with the dark circles under your eyes and the way you’re cringing in the sunlight like a vampire away from his crypt.”
God, why hadn’t he waited to call until later? Or at least closed the drapes? Well, he knew why he hadn’t done that. It had just seemed too taxing at the time.
“What’s going on?” Rafe asked. “Did you get the deal?”
“The deal. About that …”
“Damn it, Sean,” Rafe shouted.
“Can you dial it down a notch or two?” Sean rubbed at the spot between his eyes even though he knew it wouldn’t do any good. He finally managed to get the aspirin bottle open and tapped two tablets onto his palm. Then he tapped out two more. Desperate times.
He washed them all down with a long gulp of water from the bottle on his desk and prayed they were miracle aspirins, about to kick in and restore him to health in the next thirty seconds.
No luck.
Rafe grumbled, took a breath and said, “Fine. I’m calm. Now tell me what’s going on?”
“It’s a long story,” Sean said, rubbing his eyes. “And I’d rather tell it only once. Is Lucas in the office?”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Rafe muttered, “but yeah. He’s here.” Reaching to one side of his desk, he hit a button and said, “Marie, get Lucas in here, will you? Thanks.”
“Marie? New assistant?” Sean asked.
“Yeah,” Rafe admitted. “Katie insisted I hire somebody to help me so I can get home in time for dinner every night.”
His brother might sound like he was complaining, but Sean knew how nuts about his wife Rafe really was. And who could blame him? Rafe could be a pain in the ass at times, but his wife was a peach. Not to mention, she made the best cookies in the known universe.
“How’s Katie?” Sean managed to ask.
“She’s great,” Rafe said and a soft smile curved his mouth. Amazing the changes Katie had made to the formerly surly Rafe King. “She says I should tell you she’s saving a batch of her pistachio chocolate mint cookies for you.”
Sean swallowed hard. Ordinarily, that would have been a nice surprise. At the moment though, it felt like live snakes were writhing in his belly. Still, it was the thought that counted. “Tell her thanks.”
Rafe frowned at Sean’s less than enthusiastic reply, then waved Lucas over when he came into the room. In a second or two, Lucas was sitting beside Rafe so that both of them could be seen.
“Damn,” Lucas said, pulling his head back in shock. “You look like hell.”
Sean sighed. “That’s the consensus. How’s the baby?”
“Danny’s great,” Lucas said, grinning. “I swear he said Daddy this morning.”
Sean laughed and was rewarded with another jolt of pain. Since his new nephew was barely three months old, that wasn’t likely. But Lucas was convinced his son was a genius. And who was Sean to argue?
“On topic, guys? Are you out there partying with some blonde when you should be doing business?” Rafe asked.
“Because the blondes can wait until we get the damn land,” Lucas put in.
“He doesn’t need to be dating any blondes when he’s there to work,” Rafe argued.
“I agree, but he’s not dead and he’s not married, Rafe. God, I thought Katie had lightened you up a little.”
“I don’t need lightening up.”
His brothers’ voices were getting louder and the pain in Sean’s head just kept growing. He tried to tune out the argument taking place back in Long Beach, California. But Kings were hard to ignore. Even for one of the family.
Rafe and Lucas could go on for hours and Sean knew it. Their argument would slide from Sean to their current project and might even drift to old grudges from when they were all kids.
He smiled in spite of his headache. All of his brothers were close. Their father, Ben King, had never married any of the women who bore his many sons, but every summer, he gathered his sons together at his ranch in California. For three months every year, the King boys were real brothers and they had forged a bond that had only gotten stronger over the years.
Sean’s smile faded a bit as he thought about his parents. Ben had done the best he could, he knew. But Sean’s mother had been too fragile to deal with life. Too … breakable to leave the man she had eventually married, even when the abuse began and—
“Sean!”
He came up out of the misery of his memories with a grateful start. Looking at his brothers’ identical expressions, he cleared his throat and said, “There is no blonde.”
“Well that’s something anyway,” Rafe muttered.
“She’s got black hair,” Sean said. But that didn’t describe Melinda’s hair either. More like the color of deepest night, when a man’s dreams and fantasies came to life. When a woman with eyes like hers and a touch that was all heat could turn even the strongest man into Jell-O.
He sighed, letting her memory fill his mind and reverberate throughout his body. This was going to be a long couple of months, he told himself. Not being able to touch her was going to take every ounce of self-control he possessed. Because he had known her for about twenty-four hours and already wanted her. Bad.
“I knew there’d be a woman,” Lucas said, almost proudly. But then, Sean thought, maybe his brother was living vicariously now that he was married.
“Let him talk.” The voice of reason from Rafe. Amazing, Sean thought. Katie really was a miracle worker.
“I thought we were meeting about the hotel project,” Lucas grumbled. “I’m not interested in hearing about Sean’s latest conquest.”
That was all it took for the two of them to run away with the conversation again. If he were back home, in the office, Sean would be munching on cookies and using his smartphone to check in on customer bases and suppliers. Here, he was lucky just to be sitting upright.
Sunlight was bright in the hotel room, but thankfully, the desk where he was sitting was positioned so that his back was to the bay window. He knew that out the window lay a fantastic view of the harbor and pristine aqua-blue ocean, if he was interested—which he wasn’t at the moment. It was way too bright out there.
His hotel room at the Stanford hotel was the kind of plush he could only guess would have been considered five stars fifty years ago. Their one big concession to modern life seemed to be the high-speed internet service and the minibars. Otherwise, he might have been on an old movie set.
There were no flat-screen TVs or high-end bathrooms or, hell, even hairdryers or in-room coffee setups. And yet, there was something quietly … elegant here that no modern hotel could ever hope to claim.
“Okay, fine,” Lucas was telling Rafe. “I’ll listen