A Brother's Generous . . . Offer

Synopsis

Corporate attorney Eyleen Pendleton
thinks she's been sent out to lobby a new, extremely wealthy client
for her corporate law firm in tropical Florida. Desperate to make
partner, she knows that if she can sign this account, partnership
is definitely in the cards.

In fact, it was held over her head like
Damocles’ sword.

When she arrives at the home of this
potential client, she’s not in the best of moods, but she soon
enough discovers things could go from bad to worse in a blink of an
eye. She gets the shock of her life when she discovers that this
important client is none other than her estranged younger brother,
Ryan, with whom she shares a past that she’s been struggling to
forget.

She tries to be as professional and
business-like as she can, all the while haunted by the memories of
their past and passion the moment she looks at him and his generous
. . . member. She struggles to maintain a cool and professional
front, knowing full well how important this account is to her
bosses and her career, but little brother Ryan is all grown up and
he’s become a wily businessman who's on a quest.

He, too, is haunted by the extreme
pleasures he’s experienced with his older sister, and he’s worked
hard to get to this moment in time. Even his beautiful sister’s
aloofness won’t deter him from fulfilling his dream, and as she
attempts to lobby him for his account, he turns the tables on her
and presents a generous offer of his own, one he knows she won’t be
able refuse.

# # # #

A Brother’s Generous . . .
Offer

Published by

C. Shields at Smashwords.com

Copyright 2011 by C. Shields

Cover Design by Catharina
Shields

Editor: Jayce Elle

All Rights Reserved

Special
Acknowledgement:

Warm and very special thanks
to Jayce Elle for helping me with proofing and editing my work.
Your generous help and razor-sharp insight has truly been
invaluable to me.

Author’s Note:

This is an original work of
fiction.

All characters depicted are
fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is
coincidental.

All characters are 18 years
of age or older
.

This is an Adult Romance
with bro/sis sibling incest theme.

It contains anal
sex
.

This e-book is licensed for
your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or
given away to other people. If you would like to share this book
with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each
recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or
it was not purchased for your use only, then please return
to
Smashwords.com
and purchase your
own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this
author.

**~~**

Table of
Contents

Synopsis

About the
Author

Connect with C.
Shields

A Brother’s Generous . . .
Offer

Biscayne Point, Miami
Beach, Fl…

“
My name is Armand,” the
tall butler said kindly. He was clearly of Cuban descent, boasting
a friendly and generous smile. “You are early, Miss
Pendleton.”

“
Good-afternoon, Armand,”
Eyleen greeted politely. “Yes I am, but I hope that I’m not too
early? Mr. Ryan is in I hope?”

“
Oh yes, he is in. This way
please, Miss Pendleton.”

“
Thank you,” she said with
a smile.

As he led the way, Eyleen Pendleton’s
heels clicked softly over the shining marble floors behind him. He
escorted her into an airy room that opened to a private, ultra
luxury pool any hotel would envy.

Twenty or more vacant chaise lounges
were set out around the sparkling pool in the Florida sun, and you
could hear the ocean rushing to the shore beyond the swaying palm
trees. The sea breeze floated in along with soft Cuban music
through billowing lace curtains in front of open French
doors.

“
Would you like something
to drink, Miss Pendleton?” Armand asked kindly.

“
Ice tea if you have it,
thank you, Armand,” she answered politely.

“
Please, make yourself at
home, Miss. Señor Ryan will be with you momentarily,” he said, and
she produced a cool, professional smile as she nodded.

She calmly headed for the white,
overstuffed leather sitting-group by an unlit fireplace. She
frowned as she looked down at it. A fireplace? Who needs a
fireplace in tropical Biscayne Point, Florida? It was so pointless,
she thought with her usual cynicism.

Eyleen looked professional as the
attorney she was. She had arrived at the home of this very
important potential client, wanting to present her most capable
face. He was, after all, CEO and President of a large corporation
even though it was a pornography conglomerate.

The corporation made tens of millions
of dollars in revenue a year. If she succeeded in getting that
account, it would be the largest account the firm had ever won
since its inception twenty years ago.

Although it was breezy, sunny, and
beautiful in that part of Florida, thirty-four-year-old Eyleen
Pendleton would rather have remained in her air-conditioned office.
She was an attorney with Waterman, Vasquez, Oosterhout &
Associates LLP for nine years now, and four of those had been spent
playing foot soldier.

Over the years, she’d recruited more
than her fair share of finicky clients for the firm, and she
thought she was done with that. She was apparently wrong. That’s
why she was a little more than just a little miffed at being sent
out to recruit this one.

For some reason Edgar Waterman, senior
partner of the firm, wanted her to court this one personally. As a
favor, he said. It had been four years since she finally got to
hang up her saleswoman cap for the firm, and it irked her that she
had to dust it off one last time.

“
It better be the last
time,” she scoffed.

Ambitious Eyleen, however, wanted to
make partner. It was hinted at that, and if she could win this
client over, partnership would definitely be in the cards for
her.

She had to meet Mr. Ryan at his home
in the exclusive waterfront community. She would’ve preferred a
nice, neutral place for this meeting. Like a four star restaurant
or someplace like that, but Edgar Waterman had told her Mr. Ryan
wanted the meet at his home. She hoped it wouldn’t get ugly.
Clients usually felt empowered when doing business on their own
turf. It always made for a harder sell. Not impossible. Just more
difficult.

As always, she arrived a half hour
earlier than expected. It was always good to show punctuality with
possible new clients, but it was better when you went that extra
mile. In this case, unfortunately, it was necessary. There was
another law firm lobbying for this account. It just so happened
they were their chief competitor, too.

She took a seat in one of the four
armchairs. She sat prim and stiff with her briefcase set by her
brown, sling-back pumps. Her shoulder-length, dark brown hair was
naturally highlighted with gold, twisted up into a prim bun at the
back of her head. She wore a fitted long sleeve, maize-color satin
blouse, and copper-brown skirt . . . and a well-trained, serene
look on her face.

Although she appeared very
professional, unbeknownst to her, she also breathed a certain
sensuality that was hard to deny. The figure-fitting cut of her
outfit showed her curves nicely, and the satin blouse and tiny
waist emphasized her large, plump breasts.

Some moments later, Armand returned
with a tall glass of ice tea with a slice of lemon plunked on its
edge. She thanked him and he quietly left. She consulted her plain
wrist watch a couple of times while she had a sip of her refreshing
ice tea, trying to squelch her impatience. To divert it, she
quietly gazed around the room with big, azure-blue eyes; eyes that
always seemed to be in awe of something.

They were also eyes that successfully
hid her tenacious, unrelenting will.

As she gazed at the portraits of
tropical, Floridian landscapes and sparkling blue seascapes, her
mind wandered to her two children. Her two boys never did resemble
their father. In fact, they looked more like—

She cleared her throat and shook those
painful memories from her mind. Instead, she thought about the
twins and hoped to finalize this deal in a few hours. She’d
otherwise have to call their nanny, Laura, to stay on a while
longer.

Something in one large framed portrait
made her squint with interest. It was a portrait of a beautiful
white yacht. There were at least ten completely nude young women
waving at the photographer, but that wasn’t what caught her full
attention.

She rose from her seat and calmly
walked over to that portrait, eyeing the name on the yacht. It was
christened “Eyleen”. She blinked big, surprised eyes, reading her
name on a luxury boat. Then her attention was drawn to the only man
on it, and her plump, glossy lips tightened.

He was very tall, well built, and
dressed in a Cuban shirt and white slacks. His black hair glimmered
blue in the bright sunlight, and he wore black Ray-Bans over his
eyes, but even they couldn’t hide his identity from her. Never from
her.

Her lips tightened as her eyes shot
fire. She felt betrayed. She immediately turned around to leave,
but then she suddenly froze in her tracks when she spotted the
tall, bronze figure of the man from the photo. He was calmly
leaning in the doorway staring at her for god knows how long. When
he caught her attention, he smiled.

“
Hello big sis.”

She felt rattled and unsure of herself
now. That always happened when she was around him, and she hated
it. He smiled at her with twinkling sterling blue eyes before he
pushed from the jamb and entered. His hair was, as always,
haphazard and wild, but what rattled her so was his lack of dress.
He was only wearing a tiny black Speedos, and a white with black
towel draped around his muscular neck.

“
Ryan,” she returned with a
polite, cool smile. She gave him a brief nod of her head. “What a .
. . surprise.”

“
Really?” He quirked black
brows. “How sweet.” He smiled. “Nice one I hope.”

“
Yes. Surprise,” she merely
said. “Tell me, did you plan this?”

He arched a brow as he looked over at
her cool, serene face. “I apologize for the charade, but somehow I
was convinced if you knew who you were coming out to see, you
would’ve changed your mind.”

She smiled a little cool. “Well,” she
began, “now I’m here, and understanding I’m a half hour early,
perhaps you’d like to dress first?”

“
Why?” He smiled with a
curious frown. “I’m in my own house.” He shrugged. “Want something
stronger than that?”

“
No thank you. I don’t
drink when I’m working, and you know why I’m here—”