Here I Am (Arabesque) - By Rochelle Alers Page 0,38
control. “I’m telling you because I don’t want you to get involved.”
“Then why did you tell me? Either I get involved or you can go to the police and have them charge him with harassment.”
“I don’t want to embarrass his parents,” she argued.
Brandt shook his head in exasperation. He’d never known his sister to be so indecisive. “Either you embarrass him and his family, or let him continue to bother you. Make up your mind, Rissa.”
Tunneling her fingers through her hair, Clarissa held it off her face. “I’m so confused.”
“Why? Are you still in love with him?”
She worried her lip between her teeth. “It’s not easy to get over a ten-year relationship like striking a letter on a keyboard. Do I still having feelings for him? Yes. Am I in love with him? I don’t think so.”
“Why do you think he wants to talk to you?” Brandt asked.
“It’s probably to ask me to give him another chance.”
He wanted to tell his sister hell no, that she shouldn’t give Harper Sinclair the time of day, that his need to control her wasn’t going to change. He suspected Harper had cheated on Clarissa during the decade-long relationship. But Brandt had managed to remain uninvolved.
“Whatever you decide, the decision has to be yours. I’ll stay out of it, Rissa, until—”
Eyes narrowing, Clarissa stared at her brother. She wanted to ask him until what, but was afraid to hear the answer, knowing it would result in an injury—to Harper. She’d come to Brandt only because he was the most levelheaded of her three brothers. Despite having a career in one of the most violent sports, Brandt Wainwright was a teddy bear off the gridiron. Sumner and Garth were different—especially Sumner.
“I’ll block his calls.”
Brandt patted her arm. “Good girl.”
“Enough about me,” Clarissa said, her mood brightening. “You look much better than you did when I saw you in the hospital.”
“That’s because I’m feeling much better.”
“She’s good for you, isn’t she?”
A beat passed as Brandt gave Clarissa a level stare. “Who are you talking about?”
“Your…nurse.”
“What are you trying to say, Rissa? That she isn’t my nurse?”
“There’s no need to get defensive, big brother. All I’m saying is that…” Her words trailed off with the distinctive buzz from the intercom. “I’ll get that.” Rising from the love seat, Clarissa punched the button on the wall panel, activating the speaker feature. “Wainwright residence, this is Clarissa.”
“Miss Clarissa. Your brothers are here.”
“Please send them up.” She returned to Brandt. “We’ll talk about your nurse later.”
“No, we won’t,” Brandt countered. “I don’t intend to explain Ciara.”
He’d never been one to discuss the women with whom he’d been involved with his family—and certainly not with the press. As a professional athlete his life had become an open book, subject to scrutiny and censure, while discretion was something he’d come to covet.
Early in his career Brandt had learned to play the game: show up for photo ops, be seen with the models and actresses and always sign autographs and show up for charitable events. Even when his publicist had suggested he cultivate a bad boy image to sell copy, he’d refused. Occasional profanity was as far as he would go. Behaving badly hadn’t been and would never become an option, because he had to think of his reputation once his football career ended.
“You don’t have to,” Clarissa threw over her shoulder as she turned to walk out of the library. “I’ll just ask her what’s up between the two of you.”
“Let it go and mind your business.”
“Uh-oh. Aren’t we touchy?”
The doors to the elevator opened and Garth and Sumner Wainwright stepped out into the expansive entryway. There was no mistaking they were related. Both were blond, several inches above the six-foot mark and broad-shouldered. Garth’s eyes were a sensual cobalt blue, Sumner’s a cool, smoky gray. Both were casually dressed in slacks and shirts, sans ties and wearing lightweight summer jackets.
Garth slapped Brandt’s shoulder. “You’re looking good, big brother.”
Sumner, less effusive, nodded. “You do look great.”
Brandt smiled at his brothers. “Great is when I won’t need this chair. Thank you, guys, for coming.”
“Where are Mom and Dad?” Garth asked.
Clarissa looped her arm through Sumner’s. “They’re having cocktails in the solarium.”
Garth sniffed the air like a large cat. “Something really smells good.”
“We’re having Thai…” Brandt didn’t finish his statement when he realized his brothers were staring at something over his shoulder. He maneuvered the chair to see the object of Sumner and Garth’s rapt gazes; he knew what they were experiencing when he