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Boardroom Sins
J. Margot Critch


It’s just business…Until it becomes deliciously personal…In college, Rebecca Daniels and Brett Collins had a hot rivalry—with sexy benefits. Brett’s company has competed with the Daniels family business for years, and now, with Rebecca back in town as CEO, Brett initiates a hostile takeover… Just after they share a seriously naughty encounter! Now the battlefield is both the boardroom and the bedroom. But sometimes the line between love and hate is thinner than you think…







It’s just business...

Until it becomes deliciously personal

In college, Rebecca Daniels and Brett Collins had a hot rivalry—with sexy benefits. Brett’s company has competed with the Daniels family business for years. And with Rebecca back in town as CEO, Brett has initiated a hostile takeover...just after they share a seriously naughty encounter! Now the battlefield is in both the boardroom and the bedroom. But sometimes the line between love and hate is thinner than you think...

“DARE is Harlequin’s hottest line yet. Every book should come with a free fan. I dare you to try them!”

—Tiffany Reisz, international bestselling author


J. MARGOT CRITCH currently lives in St John’s, Newfoundland, with her husband, Brian, and their two little buddies, Simon and Chibs. She spends equal amounts of time writing, listening to Jimmy Buffett’s music and looking out at the ocean—all the while trying to decide if she wants coffee or a margarita.


If you liked Boardroom Sins, why not try

Burn Me Once by Clare Connelly

Pleasure Games by Daire St. Denis

Legal Attraction by Lisa Childs

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://millsandboon.co.uk)


Boardroom Sins

J. Margot Critch






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ISBN: 978-1-474-07121-5

BOARDROOM SINS

© 2018 Juanita Margot Critch

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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To my badass older sister, Claudette. Thank you for teaching me to know my worth, how to take no crap, and to live my life how I see fit. I know you’ve always loved me, even though I was SUCH A PEST, and you threatened to hang me up by my ankles more than once. I’m sorry I laughed when you said The Purge could happen. I think you might have been right. I love you, Sissy!

To Taryn Leigh Taylor, my Blaze Babe and Dare Darling. Thank you for the rant sessions and the encouragement. You’re an amazing sounding board, colleague, confidant and friend. We got this!

To Johanna, Kathleen and the rest of the editorial team at Mills & Boon. This book was a challenge, and yet you all stood by me and helped me piece it together. Thank you for the support, guidance and patience. I couldn’t do this without you. I’m blessed to have such wonderful, dedicated people on my team.


Contents

Cover (#u5d0fff2e-2135-58c3-87a5-c23de1165b83)

Back Cover Text (#u6318985b-82bd-578b-9384-5169f29427c0)

About the Author (#ue5a38e77-dfac-5610-b38a-d24c0afbfa4b)

Booklist (#u4c48a548-289f-5d27-bfe7-e176462a0e53)

Title Page (#udf5c1aa3-6f17-548a-8762-55fff96fe5a3)

Copyright (#u75d0de4e-6175-596c-898f-7868b65d9494)

Dedication (#u47160d65-9033-5896-8ac5-67962e73980e)

CHAPTER ONE (#u06fb269f-9498-5097-a622-16eac6b13a6a)

CHAPTER TWO (#u39730039-1c7b-5d70-a763-1e01a0a304d8)

CHAPTER THREE (#u3c2d5004-0dc6-5192-a2a1-0136189cb8e3)

CHAPTER FOUR (#u17dd86ce-9837-525e-9c4c-dd5b5ffacfbb)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE (#ud6227878-2c2a-58c1-bd92-a529721aa991)

BRETT COLLINS WAS BORED.

He looked past his circle of friends as they talked among themselves, barely hearing what they were discussing, and he scanned the large room. He’d grown up in rooms like this, attending parties like this. As the only son of one of the most influential businessmen in Las Vegas, he’d gotten to know all the players at a young age. But as he sipped his glass of soda water, he almost sighed out loud. The same faces, the same discussions, the same deals.

He was restless. He wanted—needed—a challenge. Something new.

Collins/Fischer—the real estate development company he’d started with his friend Alex, the linchpin of their other operations—had seen great success in the past years, and they’d maintained a comfortable spot near the top. But he wanted more. He wanted to be number one. And as he looked across the room for inspiration, a sign of what would be next for him, he found nothing.

Inherently, Brett hated schmoozing parties, preferring instead to meet with people in a less manufactured setting. But they did serve their purpose: talking to people, finding out the local gossip—who had been fired, who had been hired, who’d signed what deals, who was under indictment, who was sleeping with whom. And that was why he and The Brotherhood—his closest friends and business partners since college—had gone to Mayor Thompson’s party. To look for their next opportunity to strike, to make another splash on the local scene. At only thirty, they’d all done quite well for themselves, and while many in the room hated and feared them, were jealous of and intimidated by the business acumen of the group, they all still wanted a piece of them. Everyone in the room would benefit from a close relationship with the members of The Brotherhood.

There was Alex, his business partner in real estate; Gabe, one of the top lawyers in the city; Rafael, a Las Vegas city councillor; and Alana, the only woman in their circle, who was a talented interior designer, but she’d become the manager of the group’s restaurants and exclusive club. Together they made up The Brotherhood—and together they planned to use their expertise and influence to run the city.

Needless to say, they weren’t at the party for social purposes. They’d secured for themselves a quiet corner of the room, near the bar, to establish their game plan for the evening. Whom they each needed to talk to, what they hoped to accomplish and just when the hell they could get out of there. But Brett couldn’t manage to focus his tired mind. He’d had a rough couple of weeks, workwise, and it was all thanks to Rebecca Daniels, the devastatingly sexy CEO of Daniels International, a rival real estate development firm. She was a major threat currently, but he and Rebecca also had a fiery past.

Brett turned back to his friends and took another drink from his glass. The soda water, infused with lime and basil, was refreshing but didn’t improve his mood. His friends were listing the important people they wanted to approach and make connections with, but Brett could find no one in attendance whom he was interested in seeing. He couldn’t deal with another stuffed shirt or old cohort of his father’s coming up to him and asking about the elder Collins, instead of expressing interest in Brett’s endeavors. Brett loved and respected his father, but even in his years of running his own successful empire, he’d found it difficult to blaze his own trail in the shadow of Garrett Collins, one of the city’s most influential men.

“Did you see that the Heinrich brothers are here tonight?” Alana asked the group, gesturing to two men in the center of the room. “I might have to go introduce myself. They’re visiting from Sweden, looking to open a new hotel on the Strip, and I heard they may be looking for a design collaborator,” she said, turning on her most seductive smile, sauntering away and raising her hand in greeting.

“And Mayor Thompson is finally free,” Rafael said. “I’d better go put in an appearance, seeing as I’m trying to secure his endorsement before I announce I’m running for mayor.” He stepped away, as well.

Alex leaned in. “Brett, the guy from Permits is here and we need to talk to him. See if we can’t grease the wheels and get the paperwork quickly approved for the new subdivision.”

Brett nodded without much interest.

Alex didn’t miss it. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I’m just tired, I guess. I haven’t slept much this week. This messing around with Daniels International is starting to get to me.” It all started a few months ago when the other company had outmaneuvered Brett and Alex in scooping up and securing a huge deal out from under them, costing Collins/Fischer a small fortune. Brett and Alex had responded by buying out one of Daniels’s key suppliers and raising the prices. He could only imagine the scrambling that had gone on at DI that day. But then Rebecca had countered by poaching one of their VPs and giving him a place at Daniels International. Escalation had been quick, vicious, and he’d racked his brain trying to figure out his next step. But it had to be big. Nobody screwed with Collins/Fischer. Brett had to end the feud, and quick.

“You have to put it aside,” Alex told him. “We shouldn’t let this escalate too much. We need to focus on our own work and not worry about Rebecca Daniels or Daniels International.” Brett opened his mouth to speak, but Alex plowed over him. “I know you guys have history. But focus. What’s important now is our own success, not revenge.”

“Whatever history I may or may not have with Rebecca Daniels has nothing to do with the business.”

“You’ve been working day and night for the past couple of months. Why don’t you go on home? Get some sleep, go to the club and get laid, watch TV, whatever. I can handle things here. I’ll talk to the permits guy.”

Sex and sleep—hell, even crashing in front of the television—definitely sounded better than smooth talking anyone in attendance at the party, but he couldn’t make himself leave and take a night off. If he wasn’t working, or thinking about work, it felt like he was wasting his time. Work provided the necessary distraction from his thoughts and darker urges. “I know you can handle it. But you know me. I don’t do well with downtime,” Brett returned, grimacing. Downtime led to boredom, and boredom led to cravings. He sipped his water again.

“Yeah, but it isn’t healthy to spend every waking moment thinking about the business.”

“Are you really giving me this lecture? You’re just like me.”

Alex laughed, and Brett followed his friend’s gaze across the room, until it landed on a gorgeous blonde wearing a tight black dress. “Yeah, but I know how to take the night off to allow time for the finer things.” The blonde looked back and smiled, waving to Alex. “And that’s my cue,” he muttered and sauntered away to focus on the finer things, leaving Brett alone.

Brett knocked back the rest of his water and put his glass on the bar. Maybe he should leave, see what he could get up to at Di Terrestres. He scanned the crowd one more time, hoping to find inspiration for the next big project, the one that would make him and his friends, The Sin City Brotherhood, legends of Las Vegas. He watched the door to the ballroom open, and a beautiful, glamorous woman entered the party. And his eyes connected with the one face that made his blood boil with anger and lust—the blast from the past who was currently working tirelessly to ruin his life. The woman who plucked his memories, tore at his chest and stiffened his posture, not to mention his dick—Rebecca Daniels.

* * *

Rebecca smoothed a hand down the front of her black silk dress and straightened the hem that hit several inches above her knees. She accepted a glass of champagne from a server balancing a tray on his fingertips, and she sipped from it. She’d been attending events like Mayor Thompson’s party for years, and they were like second nature to her. She felt at ease, able to mingle her way through the crowds, shift in and out of conversations. But that night, she wanted no more than to go home and crash in her bed. She’d had a long few weeks—an even longer few months since her father had passed away six months ago and she’d taken the helm of Daniels International. She’d had time for little else than work lately.

Her father had excelled at functions like this; he’d made time for everyone and had had the ability to make everyone he interacted with feel like the most important person in the room, even when he was exhausted and overworked. And so could she. It was something he’d passed on to Rebecca, but though she was good at networking, her father had been legendary.

She sipped her champagne again, willing the alcohol to whisk away the melancholy. But it wasn’t working. Frowning, she realized that she shouldn’t have even come here, and she wouldn’t have if she hadn’t been personally invited by Mayor Thompson, who was a close family friend.

“My God, Rebecca.” She heard a pleasant greeting from her right. She turned and saw Ben Thompson, the city’s long-standing mayor, and his wife, Esther, coming toward her. She smiled as they each embraced her.

“How are you, dear?” Ben asked her. “I’m sorry we haven’t been in touch since the funeral. Your father is truly missed.”

“Thank you. I miss him, too.”

“Thank you for coming tonight,” Ben said, patting her hand with his. “I’m glad you were able to make it.”

Rebecca smiled, knowing that he meant it. She’d always had such great memories of Ben and Esther, of family barbecues and vacations. After Rebecca’s mother passed away when she was a baby, Esther had stepped in to be a sort of surrogate, providing love, support and guidance; and Ben had always been at her father’s side, avuncular, an uncle figure since her childhood.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, and I’m well,” she said. “How are you both?”

“Things are good,” Ben answered. “I’m retiring this year and finally stepping down. I don’t think I have another campaign in me.”

“Oh, really?” Rebecca was surprised to hear it. “And then what will you do with your time?”

“I’m going to make him relax,” Esther answered. “Days filled with golf, traveling, arts and crafts—”

“Sounds awful,” Ben interrupted, and they all laughed. “Dear,” he said as he reached out for her hand, “we must move on, but let’s get together sometime soon.”

“Absolutely.” Rebecca smiled as the couple left to greet another set of guests.

Satisfied with her first social interaction of the evening, Rebecca took a deep breath and scanned the room. Sipping her champagne again, she felt her confidence bolster. Despite the size of her father’s enormous shoes, and how hard she’d been working to fill them, she knew she could do this. She could handle being the new face and CEO of Daniels International. This job was in her blood.

Rebecca’s gaze struck on one of the reasons for her increased workload. Brett Collins was arrogant, stubborn and probably looking for retribution after the recent series of events between their two companies.

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t be physically affected by him.

Every system in her body ran hot as she saw him casually lean an elbow against the bar. He was alone, but it didn’t seem to bother him as he lounged confidently like a king—or a god among men. His eyes roamed over the crowd, sharp and methodical as he scanned the room, until they connected with hers.

At that moment, time stopped for Rebecca as the rest of the room—the party, the revelers, the music—fell away. Her breath halted as he held her stare, transfixed, unable to turn away even if she wanted to. Just like what happened every time she faced him, she got lust-inspired tunnel vision. They had history, and she was brought back to her undergrad days in college. The thing between her and Brett had always been hot, heavy, intense. Since day one of freshman year in college, they’d butted heads, and now they were entangled in a rivalry between their firms—two of the biggest in Las Vegas—and eventually only one would survive.

Rebecca saw Brett’s eyes narrow, and he straightened to full height. His body was still similar to the one she’d known so intimately before as a younger woman, but in the past few years, she was pleased to see that he was even larger, stronger—a more grown version of her old enemy and lover. His broad shoulders and strong back were clad in the fine dark blue material of an immaculately tailored suit. Along with his dark blond hair and blue eyes, he still possessed Adonis-like traits—a strong jaw, straight nose and high cheekbones. But, she noticed, the deep dimples that she remembered at the edges of a youthful, cocky smile were absent these days, seemingly unable to coexist with the cold, hard stare of Brett Collins, the real estate mogul.

His gaze didn’t waver from her, and she returned his stare, matching the intensity, or at least trying to. Brett’s attention was powerful. He might have been compelling in his twenties. But at thirty the man was downright potent.

He smiled at her, looking just as arrogant and smug as ever. The deep breath she took to steady herself shuddered out of her as she exhaled. Even after five years, the pull of him was still as strong as a team of horses.

Everyone moved about them, oblivious to the tension that traveled across the room between her and Brett. Shaking her head, she forced herself to pull it together. Rebecca was a strong, grown woman who had made multimillion-dollar deals and stared down some of the top businessmen and women from Vegas to New York City. If she was going to be living in the same city as Brett, she was bound to run into him again. What could it hurt to talk to her former lover? She had to get it over with, and when she did, she could forget about him and get on with her life. So straightening her posture and flipping her hair behind her shoulders, she strode confidently in the direction of Brett Collins.

* * *

Brett watched Rebecca as she crossed the floor toward him, trying to hide the smile that made the corners of his lips creep upward. She’d come back from New York after five years on the East Coast and had landed squarely back on Brett’s radar. Despite that they had their own long-standing rivalry, he’d been competing with her father, Hiram, in the local real estate industry for years, and the feud had continued when Rebecca took over. They’d been at each other’s throat for months, but this was the first time he’d seen her in person since she’d returned to town, and it was affecting him more than he liked.

He’d spent college neck and neck with her, competing for grades, awards, accolades, top position in the class. By coincidence, they’d earned undergraduate and graduate degrees from the same schools, so that meant that they couldn’t escape one another. And from day one, they had not clicked. He was confident, maybe a bit cocky; she was stubborn and not willing to relent, and neither of them knew what to do with the other. They’d had a frustrating, competitive, downright antagonistic back-and-forth relationship—well, if you would call their enemies with benefits hookups a relationship. They would fight, then fuck, then go back to fighting...for six years.

They’d had major chemistry, and she was still somehow even more infuriatingly sexy than she’d been all those years ago. So maybe he had some memories of the past rumbling below his belt, but there was no reason for his reaction to her now, the pounding in his chest or the way the blood rushed past his ears, heading south, causing a stirring in his dick as she came closer. That was unexpected. He put down his glass and fisted his hands at his sides to hide their shaking, frustrated and unsure if the tremors came from anger or lust.

She moved, almost gliding across the floor in her stiletto heels. The sheen of her black dress caught his attention, reflecting light as it clung to her curves. No doubt, she was still the gorgeous, sexy, glamorous woman she’d always been, but there was something else. She was confident, owning the room, tossing her blond hair behind her shoulders and catching the eyes of men and women as she approached. Outside of sex, they’d never seen eye to eye, no matter how stunning she was or how sexually compatible they’d been. But as she got closer to him with every step, his breaths became shorter and his eyes narrowed further. He tried to act cool, but the line that he could feel forming between his eyebrows betrayed him.

“Hi, Brett,” she said, a smile playing on her red lips. Brett knew people, and while she appeared confident, he wondered if underneath her calm exterior she was trying to rein in her emotions. Just like he was.

“Becca Daniels.” He smirked, calling her the name she’d used when she was younger.

“Rebecca,” she corrected him with a smile.

“Right,” he said, flashing a small smile at her correction. “Sorry. Rebecca Daniels.” He could feel himself becoming rigid, and yet more aroused, as if his body was unsure how to react to her presence. He didn’t know whether he should scream at her, walk away or lift her onto the nearby table and fuck her in the middle of the party. But civility won out and he extended his hand to her for a polite shake. She smiled and took his hand. They shook hands. “It’s been a while since we’ve been in the same room.”

He nodded. “It has been.”

“That hasn’t stopped us from doing business, though.”

“Doing business?” he asked with a snide smile. “Is that what you call what we’ve been doing? Poaching one of my executives? I’ll have you know that the minute I get word he’s violated his nondisclosure agreement, you’ll be hearing from our lawyers.”

“I’ll have you know that none of us want to know your illicit secrets. We aren’t interested. But while we’re on the topic, what about our lumber supplier for our latest development? I believe it now falls under the umbrella of Collins/Fischer. Charging outrageous prices. How many contractors did you leave scrambling with those changes you made?”

Brett snorted. They’d changed the terms only on the DI contract. “I assure you, that was a coincidence,” he lied.

She rolled her eyes, rightfully not believing him. “You just did it because you were pissed that we outbid you on the sale of that factory in Reno. Am I right?”

“I guess we’ll never know.” Brett shrugged. That was the exact event that had started the series of events that had led them to this conversation. He and Alex had been working to acquire an abandoned factory and warehouse in Reno to turn it into a high-end condo development. But at the eleventh hour, Daniels International had swooped in and taken it.

He looked over her shoulder and quickly saw his friends in the middle of their own conversations, but all their eyes were trained on him and his interaction with Rebecca. Ignoring them, Brett gave Rebecca all his attention. He plucked a champagne flute from the tray of a passing waiter and handed it to her. “We can rehash this all night, but let’s talk. How does it feel to be back in town?”

Rebecca sipped from the glass and eyed him suspiciously over the rim. “It was a little strange at first. It was a challenge, but the transition to CEO has been smooth.”

“Seriously, though, I was sorry to hear about your father. He was a good man.”

“Thank you.” She sipped her champagne again, her eyes not breaking contact with his. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had so fully captured his attention. His eyes dropped to her mouth and the drop of champagne that clung to her top lip when she lowered her glass, and he somehow resisted the urge to lean in and sweep it up with his tongue.

Distracted by his desire, Brett barely heard the words she was saying as he looked her up and down. He could see the near-imperceptible changes in her demeanor, like the way she straightened under his scrutiny, the way her pupils dilated slightly as she spoke to him and the way her lips parted as she swiped her tongue over them. He grinned at her. Brett knew women, and Rebecca didn’t have to say the words out loud. Her body language told him everything that he needed to know—she wanted him, too. Maybe as much as he wanted her—to once again bury himself deep inside her, momentarily revisiting the heat and passion they’d experienced before.

He stepped closer to her, touching his fingertips to the swell of her hip before spreading his hand over her, cupping her waist. “You know, I don’t want to talk business. Why don’t we go outside?” he asked, his voice lowered. He tilted his head in the direction of the door leading to the terrace. “We can really catch up.”

She paused for a moment, hesitating, and he thought she would refuse—because, really, what could they possibly have to catch up on? But instead, she nodded. “Sure.”

He slid his hand to her lower back, just above the rise of her ass, and escorted her through the double doors that led to the terrace, and he was pleased and surprised to find that they were alone out there. They walked to a far corner, and she leaned on the concrete railing, looking out at the view afforded by the mayor’s mansion. He stood next to her and leaned on the railing, as well. He turned his head and watched her. Whatever was going on in Rebecca’s mind made her eyebrows furrow. Maybe it matched his own turmoil, but he was confident that he could move past it. But can she?

She was quiet for a moment before she spoke. “I really missed it here.” Her whisper was wistful and vulnerable. And the moment felt more real than any he ever remembered them sharing. Well, most of them. There had been the one or two nights in college when they’d almost hit on something more... He watched her as she looked across the desert to the lights of the city. They both knew the mountains were just on the horizon, completely obscured by the darkness. “New York was nice, bustling, and winter was kind of fun for the first few years. But for a city that claims to never sleep, it doesn’t have quite the same insomnia as Vegas.”

Brett moved closer to her. “Maybe Vegas missed you, too,” he said, looking out at the horizon. “There’s nowhere else in the world like this. Las Vegans can’t expect to just settle anywhere else. There’s something about the desert, the energy, just trying to survive in such a harsh landscape...” He trailed off and she turned her head and looked at him. They were again quiet in the moment they’d created. They were again, for a short time, just kids in their twenties, with their lives ahead of them, constantly at odds with each other but managing to somehow find some moments of levity that bookended hot sex, before they went back to hating each other. Before starting the cycle over again. Rebecca always gave as good as she got and, standing next to her now, Brett realized that no matter what had happened between them or how crazy they made each other, he’d missed that about her.

Rebecca shook her head, breaking them from the moment. “So, what do you want to talk about?” she asked, not looking at him but still facing the darkened horizon, her arms folded in front of her on the stone partition that separated the rest of the mayor’s garden.

“I lied. I don’t really want to talk,” he told her, shifting closer to her, and their arms touched. Through his suit jacket, he could feel her heat.

Her laugh was humorless. “Just perfect.” She shook her head. “I should have known. I didn’t come out here for a quick hookup, you know.”

“Well, if you don’t want to hook up, what is it you want to talk about?”

“I don’t think I’m quite done talking about business.”

Surprise drew Brett’s head back. “Oh, really?”

She faced him full on—not many people stared him down like she was doing. “Yeah, you and I have had some dealings recently.”

“Yeah. Just a bit of fun back and forth.”

“Well, it’s over. Starting right now.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I’m running DI now, and I can tell you that I have a lot on my plate now and zero time for all the dick-measuring power struggles that have been going on between our two companies. I’ve got more important things to concentrate on than you. Let’s just agree to end this now. Let me run my company, and you can run yours.”

If Brett hadn’t been so stunned, he would have thrown back his head in laughter. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had spoken to him like that. No, he could. It was definitely more than five years ago, in his last interactions with Rebecca. She might think they were done. But he wasn’t done with her. Not by a long shot.

Even though he had plans for her businesswise, that would come tomorrow. He still had to contend with the rush of desire that tore through him, ratcheting up his heartbeat and hardening his cock. “That’s probably enough about business,” he said, his voice lowered, as he turned to face her. “Are you here alone tonight?” He looked back to the door that led inside. They were still the only people on the terrace. Nobody through that open door paid them any mind as the gentle notes of music were carried outside on the air.

“It’s a little late for that question, isn’t it?”

Brett grinned. It really didn’t matter to him if she’d attended the party with another man or even if she was seeing anyone. He could tell that he had her. He inched closer and felt a surge of triumph when she didn’t move away. It would be so easy to pull her into his embrace, to hold her, kiss her, just like old times. He wanted to feel her skin against his lips, under his fingers. He wanted no more than to be buried deeply inside her, fucking her until she clawed his back and screamed out his name... Shit, he needed to pull it together. He had more to consider here than just sex. Even if he did seduce her tonight, he had to keep a clear head or risk losing everything. And Brett didn’t lose. Ever.

“Well, I just want to know that your attention is focused solely on me and not anyone else,” he murmured, leaning even closer.

“And you’re wondering if I have a boyfriend?”

He shook his head. “If you did have a boyfriend, I know you wouldn’t be out here with me.” He grinned again. “And even if you did, you wouldn’t remember him after tonight anyway.”

* * *

Rebecca blinked quickly, before she guffawed loudly, putting a palm on his chest to push him away. “You are so full of it.” Incredulity made way for wanting as she involuntarily curled her fingers over the well-formed muscles of his chest. He might be wearing several layers of clothing between their skin touching, but she knew that he certainly didn’t skimp on the workouts. He smiled at her, knowing. His straight white teeth and the devilish glint in his eye made her fingers twitch, eager to keep exploring, but she pulled back.

Years in corporate America had taught Rebecca how to keep her cool in high-pressure situations with important men and women, but Brett shook her. Sure, she put on a good show, trying to seem unaffected, but she’d seriously underestimated the impact of Brett Collins in the flesh. Everything about him, his essence, his energy, surrounded her completely. He was standing too close, and she could feel him, smell him, almost taste him. The spicy scent of his cologne was intoxicating. She looked back at the city skyline, taking a deep, cleansing breath to steady herself. It didn’t work, and she cautioned a look at him. He was still leaning his elbow on the railing, facing her, watching her. His mood was impossible to read.

“I’m not here with anyone,” she assured him.

“Good.”

“How about you?” she asked, nodding in the direction of the party. “Any of those pretty young things in there belong on your arm?”

He shrugged coolly. “With the exception of some women I see casually, I’m officially unattached. If there was time to build a relationship, I haven’t found anyone I would want to do it with.” She nodded. There was no doubt that he fooled around with women, a man like Brett, but it didn’t matter. She had no ownership over him or whatever he did with his dick.

Slowly, Rebecca looked Brett up and down, his body hard and lean under his tailored suit. Her mind raced, and she cursed her hormones as she lost the ability to focus on anything but the unbridled memories she held of him. Her skin flushed, she could feel the slow rise of heat as it spread from her chest to her cheeks, and she blinked rapidly, clearing the erotic snapshots that flashed behind her eyes. She looked away from him briefly, and when she glanced back, he was watching her with a heated expression that told her he knew what she’d been thinking and was possibly running through his own slideshow of memories.

They grew quiet as they watched each other. Just looking at the man made Rebecca want to do awful, naughty, irresponsible things, despite her better judgment, and for just a moment, she let herself simply enjoy being in his company. Her guard just momentarily lowered. Her heart fluttered in her chest, unsteady. And despite every part of her mind, her heart, that told her to stay away, she stepped closer, bringing the tips of her breasts near enough to graze his chest. The movement sent a sizzle of electricity throughout her body, and she jumped back a little in reaction. He must have noticed it, too, because when she looked up at him, his eyes were narrowed, and one side of his mouth ticked upward in a seductive, lopsided grin. Without saying anything, he reached out and grasped both of her hips with his large hands, drawing her near.

“Brett,” she whispered, her breath hitched in her throat. She ignored rational thought as her desire and nerve endings screamed at her to acquiesce, and she finally listened to what her body was saying, leaning into him. Before she knew it, she’d raised her face upward, just inches from his.

“Yeah?” He moved closer, his large hands spreading over the small of her back, and at a torturously slow speed, they moved lower and lower, causing a gasp to escape her parted lips.

“Don’t,” she pleaded, half-hearted, as he squeezed her ass, his fingers digging into her flesh. She tried to push him away, but every part of her body craved the attention of those fingers.

“Don’t what?” he whispered. One hand released her behind and then took her hand. He brought her wrist to his lips, kissing her sensitized skin. She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. The words wouldn’t form in her brain. “Don’t what?” he asked, prodding before extending his tongue, dragging it over the electrified nerve endings of her inner arm.

Rebecca closed her eyes in surrender, unable to fight him. “Don’t stop.”


CHAPTER TWO (#ud6227878-2c2a-58c1-bd92-a529721aa991)

REBECCA’S WHISPERED PLEA was all Brett needed.

In one corner of his mind, he knew that they were still in public, but he was only faintly tuned in to the sounds of the party over his pounding heart and her shuddered breaths. Even though they were alone on the terrace, he knew that at any moment anyone could come join them outside and catch whatever moment he and Rebecca were caught in.

But it didn’t matter to him, and he leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. It was a soft touch at first, his lips just grazed against hers, but it wasn’t enough. He went back for more. Her lips parted under his, and he brought his hands to her face, cupping her, holding her to him. It had been years since he’d last kissed her, but everything about it was familiar.

Her taste and the way she felt underneath his hands and lips felt right, and despite that, his brain pleaded with his body to remember that she was still the same woman who’d fought him tooth and nail these past months, used underhanded tricks to win five years before in grad school. But that didn’t concern him now. Because she felt too goddamn good.

Rebecca whimpered into his mouth and tilted her head to the side, angling herself so that he could deepen the kiss. And he did. His tongue delved into her mouth and found hers, stroking, driving against one another. She raised her arms and wrapped them around his neck, drawing him closer. His cock thickened, and he felt it grinding painfully against the zipper of his pants. He had to use every ounce of his control to not yank them down and take her against the wall.

But he didn’t pull away.

Instead he lowered his hand, releasing the grip he’d held on her gorgeous ass, and skimmed his palm down her outer thigh. He clutched her leg and raised it until she wrapped it around him. The skirt of her dress wasn’t tight, and the looser material allowed him access to the smooth skin of her inner thigh as he let his hands drift upward toward the hem of her skirt. Soon, his fingers were underneath, fingering the lace of her panties.

“Brett, we can’t do this here,” she breathed. Those might have been her words, but she leaned into him, grasping his forearm, pulling him closer, thrusting desperately against his hand.

“Why not?” he growled.

“We’re in public,” she said. “As if that would stop you,” she whispered with a sly grin.

“As if it would stop either of us,” he agreed. “You never shied away from the risk of being caught before,” he reminded her with a cocked eyebrow. Rebecca had had quite the exhibitionist streak, and he wondered if she still did.

Her gasp was his answer and reward when he pushed her panties aside and touched the bare lips of her pussy. Her legs parted farther, obediently, and his fingers delved between her wet folds, circling her clit several times.

Rebecca inhaled sharply as her head rolled back and her eyes drifted shut. Brett kissed her lips to silence her, blocking her body with his own, to keep her from the eyes of anyone who might come onto the terrace. Grasping her thigh, he pulled it higher, holding her so that she was open to him. Her eyes widened and found his when he thrust a finger inside her, and he relished the lustful sounds that emanated from her throat. With two fingers moving in and out of her, the heel of his hand made contact with her clit with every thrust. From the way her body quivered before him, he knew that she was just hanging on to the edge. He kept a steady pace, and when she tightened and clenched her muscles around him, she cried out into his mouth.

When she quieted, he pulled his mouth away but drew her closer to him. “You always look so beautiful when you come,” he whispered against her ear. “Your breath is shallow, your cheeks are flushed and your pupils are so dilated, I can barely see how beautifully blue they are.” Where the hell had that come from?

She sighed, and he released his hold on her leg, letting her foot drop back to the floor. “Oh, my God, Brett.” She sighed.

“Let’s get out of here.” Fingering her on a terrace during a party hosted by the mayor was one thing, but there was still so much more he wanted to do with Rebecca Daniels, to her. “We can go back to my place,” he suggested hopefully, his lips just a whisper away from hers. He pressed them together for a second. Kissing her felt too damn good.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she told him.

“It definitely isn’t.” He grinned. “But let’s do it anyway.”

Rebecca’s laugh was more heavy exhalation than humor, and he watched the storm as it progressed over her blue eyes. They had darkened significantly with desire, and the flush that colored her cheeks and her chest showed him that she was just as affected as he was. They heard laughter from the doorway leading into the house. Brett looked over his shoulder and saw that two men and a woman had just joined them outside. The trio barely gave them a second glance.

“I should go,” she said, finding her own footing without his support. He pulled the front of his jacket over the bulge of his cock, disappointed, but he noted with satisfaction her wobbly stance. She turned away from him.

“Wait,” he called.

“Yeah?”

He withdrew his wallet from the inside pocket of his jacket and took out a card. “Here,” he said. “Take this.”

“What is it?”

“If we’re done talking business, come by some night.”

“Di Terrestres?”

“Yeah, it’s my club. The address is on there, and my cell number is on the back. I’ll show you around. Soon.”

Her lips twitched as she looked down at the card. She said nothing before she slid it into the pocket of her dress, and she walked away from him.

“It was nice seeing you, Becca,” he called to her.

She stopped and turned. “Rebecca,” she corrected him. “And you, too, Brett,” she said, turning and walking away from him. “But don’t forget. Don’t come after DI anymore. I don’t have time for games.”

Brett took a deep breath and watched her walk away. He hadn’t meant for any of that to happen. But he hadn’t been able to control himself. He’d completely lost his mind. Apparently, all he had to do to forget business and their previous hostility was touch her and he became that same twenty-two-year-old who’d been hopelessly infatuated with her. His only hope was that she was just as shaken as he was...

He was going to have to learn to control himself if he was going to be anywhere near Rebecca Daniels again. How could he hook up with her on Saturday and go into work Monday clearheaded enough to deal with the fact he had to replace an executive VP thanks to her?

No. This would never do. He had to act now.

When Rebecca was completely out of sight, he nodded in recognition to the people who’d joined them on the terrace and headed back inside to the party. He saw his friends, who’d again found each other and taken their place in a small exclusive huddle near the bar. Alex, Rafael, Gabe and Alana watched him approach. They said nothing, but their raised eyebrows spoke volumes even as they each, almost simultaneously, raised their glasses to their lips to hide their smirks. He ordered another soda water from the bar and turned back to them.

“What?” he asked them.

They all played clueless for a moment, not answering until Alex finally broke. “Okay, what the hell was that?”

Brett shrugged. “What was what?”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Don’t play stupid with us. What were you doing with Rebecca Daniels?”

“Nothing. We were talking. Just catching up.”

“Just catching up with her tongue down your throat?” Alana countered.

“What did you see?” Brett narrowed his eyes.

Alana’s widened. “What did you do?”

Brett took in the amused but concerned faces of his friends. “It was nothing. But something came to me. I’ve got an idea.” He turned to Alex. “You know how we were talking about taking Collins/Fischer to the next level?”

Alex eyed him, his stance wary. “Yeah, what do you have in mind?”

“We’re going to be number one. And we’re going to do that by dismantling the competition.”

“Okay... How?”

“A takeover. I want us to buy out Daniels International.” He let it sink in, aware of the curious and cautious way his friends eyed him.

“What?” Alex asked him.

“What aren’t you getting here? They’re a real estate development firm,” Brett said. “So is Collins/Fischer. We’ll initiate a takeover. Buy them out. When we’re successful in taking them out, we’ll move on to the next one, then the next one, until we’re the only game in town.”

None of his friends looked convinced. They were silent until Alana spoke up first. “Why?” she asked.

He thought about his answer. He’d been looking for a project, the next business move. He’d always been in this for the long game—to be the only real estate firm in town. He’d been at battle with Daniels International for months, and the company’s profits had been declining for years, partly because of stiff competition from Collins/Fischer. Why not start there? It was a logical procession. But he would be lying if he didn’t admit that there was more to it. His lips pulled downward in a frown, and he let the flames of animosity fuel him. “Now’s the time,” he started. “We’re on the verge of being on top of this city. And isn’t that what we want? Our goal has always been to run this bitch,” he reminded them. “A buyout. We’ll get as many shares as we can.” He looked at Gabe, an equal business partner in The Brotherhood’s operations but also the group’s lawyer. “Think we can get the paperwork by Monday morning?”

Brett hadn’t even finished his sentence before Gabe had his phone in his hands, most likely writing a message to his assistant to start the work. “By 9:00 a.m.,” he promised before looking up.

Alex also had his phone out, clearly engaged in getting a takeover bid in order for Monday. He and Alex had worked together, known each other long enough to trust each other fully. All Alex needed was to know Brett thought it was a good idea, a good move for the business, and he was on board. Only Alana eyed him skeptically.

“What?” he asked her.

“What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing. We’re just planning what’s next for the businesses.”

“But it’s Rebecca,” Alana reminded him. “She was my friend in college, and I spent as much time with her as I did you. You guys have this weird history. I know how you are together.”

“How we were together,” Brett corrected. “And Rebecca was nothing more than a hookup.” When she eyed him skeptically, he amended his statement. “A hookup nemesis?”

“Who is this person?” Gabe asked, putting his phone back in his pocket. He hadn’t gone to the same college as they had, having attended Harvard Law, and he hadn’t heard the story. “Old girlfriend?”

“No,” Brett said, definitive.

“She was in our undergrad and MBA programs,” Alana explained. “She’s so smart and just as stubborn as Brett, so you know they zeroed in on each other. They rivaled each other to be top of the class in every course. They competed for the best grades and for awards, but despite all the fighting and scornful looks, they hooked up all the time. I don’t quite know how it happened, though.”

Brett sighed. He knew that Alana and Rebecca had been friends, but he didn’t realize that she’d been privy to all of the dirty details. Well, not all of them, apparently—she didn’t know how it’d all started. One late night in the library before finals, they’d fought over the last private study room in the business library. But the fight hadn’t lasted long before they’d agreed to share it. It had been only a matter of time before he had her lying on the small table of a study room, with his palm over her mouth to keep her from screaming out into the silence of the library, visible to anyone who walked by through the small window in the door.

From then on, they’d still challenged each other, in class and outside, but they couldn’t stop themselves from giving in to their desires and enjoying private moments in public and semipublic spaces around campus. And that had gone on throughout their MBA program until she’d gone off to New York. “It doesn’t matter how it happened.”

“Okay, then how is she going to react when she sees the takeover bid on her desk on Monday morning?” Alana asked.

Brett didn’t want to admit to his friends how much seeing her again had affected him, and how much his own reaction had surprised him. He had to fight the discombobulation that had come from being near her tonight, and even though he could still smell her on his fingers, taste her kiss on his lips, he’d immediately shifted back into business mode. Survival mode. When it came to work, he could overcome any feelings to focus on the business. He’d done it before, and he was goddamn sure he could do it again.

But he smiled, trying to appear more confident in his resolve than he felt. “It doesn’t matter how she reacts,” he told her. “It’s business.”


CHAPTER THREE (#ud6227878-2c2a-58c1-bd92-a529721aa991)

YAWNING, REBECCA SAT back in her father’s—no, her—chair, and picked up the take-out paper cup that had contained four full shots of espresso only ten minutes ago. She’d taken a sip. It hadn’t been enough. She’d needed more, and she gulped it down, completely draining the cup. The fear that she may need to go back to the lobby café was real. The coffee had done nothing to keep her awake, and she didn’t think there was any amount of caffeine or makeup that would make her look or feel like a human being this morning. She hadn’t slept in two nights, not since Mayor Thompson’s party, and it was all Brett Collins’s fault.

With a sigh, she dramatically threw her head back and swiveled around in her chair to face the back wall as she remembered how it felt to have him kiss her, touch her again. She’d gone five years not being with him. And she thought she’d rid herself of that ghost, but no. Just one word, one touch, one kiss, a mind-altering orgasm against Mayor Thompson’s terrace wall was enough to bring back the college-aged girl who had made a mistake... Hell, dozens—hundreds—of mistakes because of some weak, hormone-crazed moments during her academic career. Times when she’d hated the man in front of her, but she couldn’t help herself and had bent to his every desire, and bent him to hers.

She touched her fingertips to her lips, and they still burned with the feel of his mouth on hers. She’d spent half a decade trying to banish him and his devilish hands and wicked kisses from her mind, and she thought she’d been successful. Yet there was no way to quell the feeling that she wanted nothing more than to take the night further. But part of her still held back. Pushing him away had been the right thing to do, even though her body had screamed at her to comply.

She huffed out a frustrated breath. One moment of weakness had made it all come back at her like a backdraft in a fire. She burned for him, needed him, craved his lips, his fingers, the bulge of his cock that she’d felt pressed against her belly, as he held her close, his hands bringing her to a shattering orgasm. She gripped the arms of her leather chair and she clenched her thighs together. He’d been an amazing lover. They’d learned everything, experimented together, and she didn’t think she would survive being with him when he had five more years of experience literally under his belt.

A knock on her door startled her, and she whipped around in her chair to face it.

“Come in,” she called, not sure if her legs were sturdy enough to stand.

Her assistant, Amy, walked into her office, holding a stack of envelopes. “I’ve got your mail here, and a courier just dropped this off.” she said, holding up an envelope.

“Thanks so much,” she said, accepting it with a tired smile.

“You doing okay, hon?”

“I’m tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Need some more coffee? I was just about to head down to get some for myself.”

Rebecca smiled. “That’d be great. Thanks!” When she was alone in her office, Rebecca tackled the large stack of mail on her desk. There were some invites to corporate functions, some junk mail, but it was the envelope that had been couriered, which bore a return-address label for Collins/Fischer, that caught her attention. Using her letter opener, she sliced open the envelope.

Her mouth dropped when she read the letter enclosed, and she knew that it had also gone out to the rest of the shareholders at Daniels International. It was a takeover bid. Brett was initiating a hostile takeover of her father’s company.

Shock and rage made her fingers curl over the paper, crumpling the edges. She pushed away from her desk and stood. She couldn’t let Brett get away with what he wanted to do to her company, the one her father had worked his ass off to build. She’d told them that Daniels International was done playing games with him and Collins/Fischer. She slammed her fist down on her desk, unable to staunch the curse words that flowed past her lips.

He’d been irritating her for weeks. Now she was angry.

* * *

Brett and Alex sat in Brett’s office on the top floor of the BH, the office building that was owned by The Brotherhood. Their mugs of coffee had long since cooled as the two of them discussed the next move in the takeover of Daniels International. They were pleased. Things had moved quickly already, and he had his amazing partners and their teams to thank for it. He and Alex had settled on a very generous offer for DI’s shareholders. They’d been willing to go far enough above market price so that the shareholders wouldn’t be able to refuse, and they’d already been contacted by quite a few of them. It would be only a matter of time before Daniels International fell under the umbrella of The Brotherhood, and they would then move on to dismantling the next, and then the next, until Collins/Fischer was the only firm in town. They were on a mission, and once they were on track, they wouldn’t be deterred. At least, if he kept telling himself that, he might be able to convince himself that was the only reason he was doing this.

Although Brett had told his secretary he didn’t want to be interrupted, she buzzed through on the intercom. “Mr. Collins,” she started, “I have Rebecca Daniels on line one. She says it’s urgent.”

Brett grinned and looked at Alex. She would have gotten her mail and their tender offer already. He couldn’t wait to hear what she had to say, and part of him wanted to hear her beg him to spare her company. “Put her through,” Brett responded. He kept the phone on speaker as the call was patched through.

“Rebecca, hi—”

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” she demanded over the intercom, interrupting him.

“Rebecca, please calm down,” Brett said in an attempt at placating her.

“Please, go fuck yourself!” she retorted. Brett and Alex both widened their eyes in surprise at the vitriol in her words, but she wasn’t done. “So what’s your plan here? You make me come and then take over my business?” Brett shot a quick look at Alex, who raised an eyebrow, trying to hide his smile. He didn’t try that hard. His friend was clearly enjoying the show.

Brett reached out to pick up the phone receiver, to allow them a little privacy, but Alex swatted his hand away from it. He wanted to keep listening. “It’s just business, Rebecca,” Brett said. “It’s not personal. It’s a strategic move for our own company. This sort of thing isn’t unheard of.” He stood, unsure of why he was putting space between him and her voice on the intercom.

“This is plenty personal,” she said, her voice cold. “But you know what, don’t bother explaining any further. You should hear this, though. There is no way in hell you’ll get your fingers on any part of my father’s company, or me, again. Have a nice day,” she said before the phone call disconnected.

“Well,” Alex said with a smirk. “She certainly hates your guts. Interesting.” He sat back, suddenly serious. “Why don’t you tell me what’s really behind this takeover? There is some personal shit here, isn’t there?”

Brett returned to his desk and sat down. He clenched his fists and hoped that Alex didn’t see the tremble in them. He was angry. Angry she still had the power to affect him, like she had years earlier. Sure, the past few months had been interesting—invigorating even—to have his former rival back in town pushing his buttons. But if their encounter the other night had told him anything, it was that she was a distraction big enough to throw him off course—and Brett had come too far and worked too hard to let that happen. He’d created a life for himself around specific things: his work, his business goals with The Brotherhood, staying fit, keeping up with his parents... There was no room for anything else. Certainly not for Rebecca Daniels, one of the few people who made him feel vulnerable and exposed—or at least she had once in college. He couldn’t let it happen a second time. “There’s nothing to tell,” he told his friend.

“And what about that part about making her come?”

“Would you believe me if I called it female hysterics?”

Alex guffawed. “I definitely would not.”

Brett sighed and sat back in his chair. “Okay, we had a bit of a moment at the party the other night. But business has nothing to do with that. Sure, the idea of a takeover occurred to me somewhat spontaneously. The plan started forming in my head when she left. But I know what I’m doing here. It’s business as usual, regardless of anything that Rebecca and I had.”

Alex looked unconvinced. “Jesus Christ, man. We’ve initiated a multimillion-dollar takeover to get back at a girl you used to hook up with in college? Who just happens to be sitting at the CEO’s desk?”

“That’s not it.”

“Then tell me, what is it? Do you want to start seeing her again? Because if you do, this is one hell of a way to get her attention.”

Brett’s blood burned in his veins. White-hot. “No. I’m definitely not looking to start seeing her.” Although he did extend an invitation for her to visit him at the club. He’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he was looking forward to seeing her there.

Brett was a man who didn’t deal in feelings. And as anger, ambition and desire all raged within him, he had no idea which would be victorious. He just knew that her appearance threw something inside him completely off-kilter and he needed her gone again. If there was nothing keeping her in Vegas, she would surely leave. Getting rid of Daniels International would send her packing back to New York or anywhere else. He didn’t really care.

Using every ounce of strength, he reined in his emotions, holding them back with a firm hand. “The timing looks suspicious, I know. But I’ve had my eye on this type of thing for a while,” Brett lied easily to his friend, something he’d never done before. “This move is what’s right for us, and you know it. It’s part of our overall vision for The Brotherhood.”

Alex stood and faced him, challenging. His friend was a strong, imposing man, and he had a slight height advantage over Brett. “I just want all the information, before you put our business and our names—and The Brotherhood—on the line.”

“You have nothing to worry about. I know what I’m doing.”


CHAPTER FOUR (#ud6227878-2c2a-58c1-bd92-a529721aa991)

REBECCA SLAMMED DOWN the phone. “That shady motherfucker,” Rebecca said to her empty office, trying her damnedest to bite back a frustrated scream. She gripped the edges of her desk. If she possessed the physical strength, she would have flipped the heavy oak behemoth over on its side.

Her frustration built and she took deep breaths to stop the shaking in her hands. But it wasn’t successful. She thought about her father and the business he’d built and how she couldn’t let it fall under the command of Brett Collins. She thought about all of the power and influence Brett had in the city. With what Brett was offering the shareholders for their shares, she wondered how many would stick with DI. It was a near-hopeless situation. But it was up to her to save the company. She was on her own on this one.

“I could see him again,” she told herself. “Try to appeal to him.” And if she couldn’t talk him out of it altogether, she would let him know that she wasn’t going to take it lying down. If that didn’t work, at least, she could hope to get a little dirt on him and his friends. Rebecca wasn’t into blackmail, but she wasn’t afraid to play dirty if she needed to.

* * *

Hours later, Rebecca found herself on the sidewalk in front of Di Terrestres. The exterior of the club was unassuming enough, just like many other buildings located in Las Vegas’s downtown financial district. It was located at the bottom floor of their office high-rise, which housed Collins/Fischer along with many other businesses. The sleek gold letters emblazoned on the sign bearing its name weren’t out of place in this neighborhood, but the burly bouncers guarding the door in black suits may have been a giveaway. There was a small line of people looking for admittance, and one by one they were afforded entrance. She’d heard about the club, but a Google search had provided only vague information at best. She’d surmised it was exclusive, intimate even, and she figured that if there was anywhere she would find Brett after hours, it’d be here.

Rebecca frowned, glancing up at the tall building once more. As she approached the lineup, she eyed the doormen, who consulted their lists on the tablets in their hands. Brett had told her to come by, but she was certain she wasn’t on whatever list they had in front of them now.

The key was to act like she was.

She straightened her shoulders and strolled to the door, bypassing the small lineup, ignoring the annoyed stares of the people she passed. She smiled at a doorman, but he barely looked at her as she approached. “Name?” His voice boomed. He was huge and had a no-nonsense demeanor.

“I’m here to see Brett,” she said, not breaking eye contact. “He invited me.”

“Name?”

She sighed, feigning impatience. “Rebecca Daniels. If you could just tell him I’m here—”

“You can go right on in, Ms. Daniels,” he told her, looking up at her, now smiling.

She tried to stop the surprise from showing. “Really?”

“Rebecca Daniels.” He gestured to the screen. “You’re on the list. Go right on inside. You’ll find Mr. Collins in there.”

She schooled her features, not letting her disbelief that it had worked show. “Thank you,” she told him, sauntering past, confident as any woman would be to meet a man at his exclusive club.

From the foyer, Rebecca passed through two huge lush black curtains and found herself in the luxurious environs of Di Terrestres. Her eyes widened, impressed. It was dark but not too dark. The walls were covered with more black curtains, and modern chandeliers and small wall sconces cast dim swaths of golden light over the shadows that crept from the corners. Despite the large size of the room, the design and lighting made it feel small, intimate, sexy even, and she clearly wasn’t the only one who thought so. She looked around at the couples and groups of people huddled together at the high-backed booths and tables lining the room. Some of them were talking, laughing, and others were locked in intimate embraces, in various stages of undress. She looked around and noticed how the guests touched each other, spoke softly, as if they were lovers. But the faces were familiar, and she recognized many of them as some of Las Vegas’s most influential businesspeople, politicians and celebrities. It left her wondering exactly what kind of place Di Terrestres was.

At the center of the room was a huge raised platform, and she imagined it must have been a dance floor, but no one was dancing; the patrons were so wrapped up in each other, it went unused. Her attention returned to the people around her, engaging in extremely private acts in a very public space, and she felt envious, not having been able to give in to her own desires in a long time.

As a younger woman, she’d exhilarated in exhibitionism, and it was Brett who had brought that out in her. Their semipublic physical encounters were still with her. Back then, they’d done it everywhere—the college library, empty classrooms, store changing rooms—and the heat of the memories made her skin flush as it came over her from time to time. She shook her head in an attempt to disperse the images.

Brett was nowhere to be seen in the crowd, but she did see a long bar along one wall and made her way toward it. If she was going to talk to Brett again, she needed a drink...or several. So she took her place on an empty stool between two men, who simultaneously gave her an obvious once-over before they both turned to her with interest as the bartender quickly made her way over to Rebecca. “What can I get for you?”

“Gin and tonic please,” Rebecca told her, trying to ignore the attention of the men who flanked her. “A double.”

The gorgeous bartender nodded. “You got it.” She quickly made Rebecca’s drink and placed it in front of her on a cocktail napkin.

Rebecca withdrew her credit card from her purse to pay for her drink, but the bartender shook her head at her and walked away to serve the next customer. Rebecca’s eyebrows drew together as she watched the bartender take payment from another customer, and she wondered why she hadn’t been charged.

Her question was answered almost immediately when Rebecca caught a whiff of cologne—the spicy, leathery scent she remembered so vividly from the night of the mayor’s party. Brett’s cologne. A dim shadow fell over her, blocking the already-low light, and soon she felt a wall of warm muscle come up behind her and press against her back. She stiffened, and the other men turned their attention back to the bartender, apparently not willing to interfere in Brett’s affairs. Brett rested his palms on the bar on each side of her, trapping her between it and his chest. She didn’t turn around, and she felt him lean closer, bringing his lips to her ear. “I knew I’d see you again soon, Becca.”

“And I knew that I’d have to remind you again that I go by Rebecca now.” She sighed and looked over her shoulder at him. He was as gorgeous as always. In an attempt to steady her shaking hands, she cupped her glass and took a deep swallow of her drink. The gin was definitely top-shelf, and it hit the bottom of her empty stomach. Maybe she should have skipped the drink—no, going in sober wasn’t an option—or maybe she should have stopped to eat dinner before going to the club. And maybe, she thought as she looked up at Brett, either way she was making a huge mistake.

She needed to keep a clear head, especially when the memories of the party had clouded every rational thought she’d had since that night. His proximity only made it worse. Her throat dried and she took a deep gulp of her gin and tonic and turned back to look at him once more.

He was wearing gray slacks and a white dress shirt, unbuttoned at his throat with the sleeves rolled up, exposing the tanned skin of his strong, corded forearms. His thick dark blond hair was tousled, and a five-o’clock shadow dotted his firm jawline. It looked like he’d left work and come to the club. But it didn’t matter what he wore, he looked just as good as he had wearing his more formal blue suit a couple of nights ago at Mayor Thompson’s house.

She steeled herself, attempting to hold back her emotions, her desire, reminding herself of the job at hand. But tell that to the breath she held in her lungs and the stirring in her core. She swiveled on her stool, rotating around to face him. He was standing over her, so closely that her knees brushed high on his thighs. While the shock of the contact racked throughout her, he didn’t even appear to flinch. But that was Brett—always so cool and in complete control.

“Can I get you a club soda, Brett?” The bartender had reappeared.

“No, I’m good. Thanks, Tanya,” he said without looking away from Rebecca.

“You put my name on the list.” Rebecca looked up at him. His face was only a few inches from hers. It wasn’t a question. He’d obviously done it.

His smile was cocky, his dimples deep. “I did,” he said with a nod. “I knew you’d come here eventually. That you couldn’t stay away. Especially after Saturday night, I knew you’d be back for more.”




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