Главная страница | Современная зарубежная литература | A Christmas Rendezvous

A Christmas Rendezvous
Karen Booth


A second run-in with her one-night-stand. Lawyer Isabel Blackwell didn’t expect her recent case to end in a courtroom battle against the smart, charming and sexy Jeremy Sharp. When their attraction leads to a snowy Christmas night of passion, and an unplanned pregnancy, will the duelling lawyers play to win—or for keeps?







On her second run-in with her one-night stand,

they go from the bedroom to the war room!

It’s bad enough that high-powered attorney Isabel Blackwell is spending her Christmas on a high-stakes case. Then she discovers she’s up against the man who took her breath away one very special night. As a litigator, Jeremy Sharp shouldn’t be underestimated, but as lovers, Jeremy and Isabel can’t resist another rendezvous. Will this duel mean playing to win—or playing for keeps?


KAREN BOOTH is a Midwestern girl transplanted in the South, raised on ’80s music and repeated readings of Forever by Judy Blume. When she takes a break from the art of romance, she’s listening to music with her nearly grown kids or sweet-talking her husband into making her a cocktail. Learn more about Karen at karenbooth.net (http://www.karenbooth.net)


Also by Karen Booth (#u6bd8d57e-7b9b-55c7-a009-92be362ba114)

The Best Man’s Baby

The Ten-Day Baby Takeover Snowed

in with a Billionaire

A Christmas Temptation

A Cinderella Seduction

A Bet with Benefits

A Christmas Seduction

Tempted by Scandal

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


A Christmas Rendezvous

Karen Booth






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


ISBN: 978-1-474-09280-7

A CHRISTMAS RENDEZVOUS

© 2019 Karen Booth

Published in Great Britain 2019

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.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

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




Note to Readers (#u6bd8d57e-7b9b-55c7-a009-92be362ba114)


This ebook contains the following accessibility features which, if supported by your device, can be accessed via your ereader/accessibility settings:



Change of font size and line height

Change of background and font colours

Change of font

Change justification

Text to speech



For Val Skorup. You are the best cheerleader

a person could ever want, a great friend

and a total rock star.


Contents

Cover (#u6ce06f66-5fd8-5ad0-b2a8-f31b63fb79a5)

Back Cover Text (#u65afb74e-9642-525a-87b9-8ca022976894)

About the Author (#u4b77f017-f86e-50ce-83dc-dcce136ab806)

Booklist (#u0a1c9824-dcab-5fc9-a964-0711f1c4cf8f)

Title Page (#uc07f9f65-eb73-534e-96bf-01cef5ee5bc9)

Copyright (#u51de1cbd-2936-566e-b14b-1daa2d0273f3)

Note to Readers

Dedication (#u74a8c472-c715-5048-beeb-96d8b0460d06)

One (#u91a9be3f-089e-5c01-9dfc-08cdf4cb283d)

Two (#u7d59a469-6c8f-5527-a5cb-fad335d5c0c1)

Three (#u54e96d46-e4ec-5707-b482-5a2b7aa9593d)

Four (#uff5fac91-6a6c-549b-ade9-0d5773569364)

Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)


One (#u6bd8d57e-7b9b-55c7-a009-92be362ba114)

Isabel Blackwell’s head had hardly hit the pillow when the hotel alarm went off. The fire alarm.

Frustrated and annoyed, she sat up in bed and shoved back her sleep mask while the siren droned on out in the hall. This was getting old. The luxury Bacharach New York hotel had been her home for nearly two weeks and this was the fourth time the fire alarm had sounded. She’d intentionally gone to bed early to try to sleep away her difficult day. Her brother, Sam, had convinced her to take on a legal case she did not want—saving Eden’s Department Store from a man with a vendetta and a decades-old promissory note. So much for the escape of a good night’s rest.

“Attention, guests,” the prerecorded message sounded over the hallway PA system. “Please proceed to the nearest fire exit in an orderly manner. Do not use the elevators. I repeat, do not use the elevators. Thank you.”

“Do not use the elevators,” Isabel mumbled to herself in a robotic voice. She tossed back the comforter, grabbed her robe, shoved her feet into a pair of ballet flats and dutifully shuffled down the hallway with the other guests. It was not quite 10:00 p.m., so she was the only one in her pajamas, but she refused to be embarrassed by it. Hers were pale pink silk charmeuse and she’d spent a fortune on them. Plus, if anyone should be feeling self-conscious, it was the hotel management. They needed to get their property under control.

She followed along down the stairs, through the lobby past the befuddled and apologetic bell captain, and out onto the street. Early December was not an ideal time to be parading around a Manhattan sidewalk in silk pj’s, but she hoped that by now, the hotel staff had finely honed their skills of determining whether there was an actual fire.

The manager shot out of the revolving door, frantic. “Folks, I am so sorry. We’re working as fast as we can to get you back inside and to your rooms.” He fished a stack of cards from his suit pocket and began doling them out. “Please. Everyone. Enjoy a complimentary cocktail at the bar as our way of apologizing.”

Isabel took his offering. She wasn’t about to pass up a free drink.

“What if you already have one waiting for you?” a low rumble of a voice behind her muttered.

Isabel turned and her jaw went slack. Standing before her was a vision so handsome she found herself wondering if she had actually fallen asleep upstairs and was now in the middle of a splendidly hot dream. Tall and trim, the voice had a strong square jaw covered in neatly trimmed scruff, steely gray eyes and extremely enticing bedhead hair. It had even gone a very sexy salt-and-pepper at the temples, pure kryptonite for Isabel. She had a real weakness for a distinguished man. “You had to leave a drink behind?” she had the presence of mind to ask. “That’s a very sad story.”

The voice crossed his arms and looked off through the hotel’s glass doors, longingly. “The bartender had just poured the best Manhattan I’ve ever had. And it’s wasting away in there.” He then returned his sights to her, his vision drifting down to her feet, then lazily winding its way back up. As he took in every inch of her, it warmed her from head to toe. “Aren’t you freezing?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I run hot.”

A corner of his mouth curled in amusement, and that was when she noticed exactly how scrumptious his lips were. He offered his hand. “Jeremy.”

“Isabel.” She wrapped her fingers around his, and found herself frozen in place. He wasn’t moving, either. No, they were both holding on, heat and a steady current coursing between them. It had been too long since she’d shared even an instant of flirtation with a man, let alone a chemistry-laden minute or two. Her job was always getting in the way, a big reason she disliked it so much.

“You weren’t kidding,” he said. “How are you so warm?”

How are you so hot? “Lucky, I guess.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the hotel manager announced, poking his head out of the door. “Turns out it was a false alarm. You may go back inside.”

“Looks like you can go rescue your Manhattan,” Isabel said to Jeremy.

“Join me? I hate to drink alone.” He cocked his head to one side and both eyebrows popped up in invitation.

Isabel had been fully prepared to go back upstairs and simply take a few thoughts of dreamy Jeremy for a spin as she drifted off to sleep. “I’m in my pajamas.”

“Don’t forget the sleep mask.” He reached up and plucked it from her hair. “Do these things really work?”

She smoothed back her hair, deciding this was only a good sign—he’d invited her to have a drink with him when she looked far less than her best. “They do work. Once you get used to it.”

“I’ve never tried one. Maybe I should. I don’t sleep that well.”

Isabel fought back what she really wanted to say—that she wouldn’t mind having the chance to make him slumber like a baby. Instead, she took the mask from his hand and tucked it into the pocket of her robe. “If you can stand to be seen with me, I’d love a drink.”

“You could be wearing a potato sack and I’d still invite you for a drink.” He stepped aside and with a flourish of his hand, invited her to lead the way.

Oh, Jeremy was smooth. For a moment she wondered if he was too much so. In her experience, men like that were only interested in fun. She’d moved to New York for a fresh start, so she could pursue a less unsavory line of legal work—adoption law, to be specific—and finally get serious about love. At thirty-eight, she was eager to get on with her life. Still, it was silly to judge yummy Jeremy by a few words in their first conversation. “Good to know your standards.” Isabel marched inside and crossed the lobby, stopping at the bar entrance. Despite the generous disbursement of drink coupons from the manager, the room was sparsely occupied, with only a few people seated at the long mahogany bar. It was an elegant space, albeit a bit stuck in time, with black-and-white-checkerboard floors and crystal chandeliers dripping from the barrel ceiling. “You’ll have to let me know where you left your drink behind.”

“Over here.” Jeremy strolled ahead and Isabel took her chance to watch him from behind. The view was stunning—a sharp shoulder line atop a towering lean frame. His midnight-blue suit jacket obscured his backside, but she could imagine how spectacular it must be. He arrived at a corner table, and sure enough, there was his drink, along with a stack of papers, which he quickly shuffled into a briefcase.

“You really did leave in a hurry,” she said. “Is this your first night staying here? I don’t take the fire alarm all that seriously anymore. Most of the time it’s nothing.”

“I’m not a guest. I just had a meeting. I actually live in Brooklyn, but I thought I’d grab a drink before I headed home.” He slid her a sly look. “Now I’m glad I did.”

Isabel knew she should ask what he did for a living, but that would only lead to discussion of her own occupation. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about being a lawyer, a career she’d once dreamed of but that had since turned into a bit of a nightmare, another reason for moving away from Washington, DC. She’d somehow gone from earnest attorney to a political “fixer,” cleaning up the personal messes of the powerful. She was good at it. Very good, actually. But she’d grown weary of that particular rat race. And in Washington, everyone was a rodent of one form or another.

“What would you like to drink?” Jeremy asked, pulling out a chair for her.

Isabel eased into the seat, which was sumptuously upholstered in white velvet with black trim. “I’ll have a gin and tonic, two limes.” She reached into her robe and pulled out the drink coupon, holding it out for Jeremy.

“Save that for a rainy day. It was my invitation. I intend to buy you a drink.”

Isabel had to smile. It’d been a long time since a man had treated her nicely and actually made an effort. She’d been starting to wonder if gentlemanly behavior was a lost art. “Thank you.”

Jeremy flagged down the bartender and was back with her drink in a few minutes. He sat next to her, his warm scent settling over her. It was both woodsy and citrusy, conjuring visions of a romantic fire crackling away. “So, tell me about yourself. What do you do?”

She had to make a choice right then and there as to how this night was going to go. Either they would do the same old getting-to-know-you routine that every man and woman who have just met must seemingly pursue, or they would head in a different direction. Coming to New York was supposed to be a fresh start for Isabel and she intended to follow through on that. She would not cling to old habits. She would try something new.

She reached out and set her hand on Jeremy’s, which was resting on the tabletop. “I vote that we don’t talk about work. At all. I don’t think we should talk about where we went to school or who we used to date or how many important people we know.”

Jeremy’s eyes darkened, but there was a spark behind them—a mischievous glint. He was, at the very least, intrigued. “Okay, then. What do you want to talk about?”

She stirred her drink, not letting go of his hand. She loved that they already had this unspoken familiarity. Like they understood each other, and so soon after meeting each other. “I don’t know. A little brutal honesty between strangers?”

He laughed and turned his hand until their palms were flat against each other. He clasped his fingers around hers. How that one touch could convey so much, she wasn’t sure, but excitement bubbled up inside her so fast she thought she might pop like a cork from a champagne bottle. It was as if she’d been in a deep sleep and her entire body had rattled back to life. She wasn’t the sort of woman who pinned a lot of hope on a man, but she found herself wondering where this might go.

“Like truth or dare, but just the truth part?” he asked.

Isabel swallowed hard, but did her best to convey cool. “Oh, no. I never said I wasn’t up for a dare.”






Jeremy was so tempted to dare Isabel to kiss him, he had to issue himself a mental warning: Slow down, buddy. He was essentially fearless, but he wasn’t the guy to make leaps with a woman. Not anymore. He greatly enjoyed their company, but he’d been burned badly by a toxic marriage and the hellish divorce that followed. Since then, he’d learned to employ caution, but he did occasionally need to remind himself.

Still, he didn’t want to waste his evening ruminating on his past mistakes. Not now. Not when he was sitting with Isabel, a woman who made him want to employ zero restraint. She was not only a captivating beauty, with sleek black hair framing a flawless complexion and warm brown eyes; she had a demeanor unlike any he’d ever encountered, from anyone—man or woman. What person goes to a bar in pale pink silk pajamas and matching robe and seems wholly comfortable? And the bit about not trying to impress each other? That was like a breath of fresh air. If he had to start talking about his job, he’d just get stressed. Especially after the meeting he’d had in this very bar an hour ago.

“I’m afraid I haven’t played truth or dare since I was a teenager,” he admitted.

“Me, neither. And almost all of the dares seemed to involve kissing.”

It was as if she’d read his mind.

“But we aren’t teenagers anymore, are we?” she added.

“Not me. I turned forty this year.” Jeremy cleared his throat, struggling to keep up with her. He was usually laser-focused on a retort. As a lawyer, he got plenty of practice. “Okay, then. Tell me something almost nobody knows about you.”

She smiled cleverly, stirring her drink. “That could take all night. I have lots of secrets.” She bent her neck to one side and absentmindedly traced her delicate fingers along her collarbone.

The first secret Jeremy wanted to know was what was under those pajamas. He wanted to know who was under there—what Isabel would kiss like. What her touch would be like, what it would be like to have her naked form pressed against his. “How about three things I need to know about you? As a person. Three things you believe in.”

She twisted up her beautiful lips, seeming deep in thought. “Okay. I believe that there is no good reason to lie, but that doesn’t mean you have to confess everything. I believe that a good nap will cure most problems. And I believe that love is ultimately the only thing that ever saves anyone.”

“Really?” Jeremy found that last part a bit too sunny and optimistic, but then again, he had his reasons for rolling his eyes at love.

“Like I said, a little brutal honesty between strangers. I have no reason to be anything less than ridiculously open and bare my soul.”

“You’re a therapist, aren’t you? One of those people you pay hundreds of dollars an hour to, just so you can reveal the most humiliating things you’ve ever done.”

She shook her head. “Hey. That’s against the rules. We said we weren’t going to talk about work.”

“So I’m right. You are a therapist.”

“No, you aren’t right.” She flashed her wide, warm eyes at him. “You aren’t wrong, either.”

Jeremy had to laugh while he marveled at the puzzle of Isabel. He wanted to peel back her layers, one by one... He suspected there were a lot of surprises to be found. “I suppose you want me to tell you my three truths now, huh?”

“It’s only fair.”

He had to think for a moment, knowing he had to match the clever balance she’d struck between revealing all and piquing his interest. He would not allow himself to be completely outdone by Isabel. “I believe that taking yourself too seriously is a trap. I believe that apologizing for making a lot of money is stupid. And I believe that there’s nothing wrong with having fun.”

She nodded, seemingly digesting his words. “Those are all very interesting.”

“You’re definitely a therapist.”

“And you are definitely not good at following rules.”

He shrugged. “Most rules are arbitrary.”

“Like what?”

“Like the one that says you shouldn’t invite a woman wearing her pajamas on a New York City sidewalk out for a drink.”

She pointed her finger at him. “Yes. You’re so right. That is a stupid rule.”

He downed the last of his drink, sensing this was the moment when he had to decide whether he wanted to angle for an invitation upstairs. Fear was a big factor. He didn’t want to endure a rejection from Isabel. Something told him she could deliver one in a particularly devastating way. “And yet I went there, didn’t I? I took the chance.”

“Yes, you did, didn’t you? Which makes me wonder what you’re after, Jeremy. A drink? Conversation? Or something more?” Isabel sat forward and drew her finger around the rim of her glass, looking at him, unafraid to confront him with her gaze.

He had to break the spell she had him under, but when he let his sights wander, it only got worse. The front of her robe had gaped open, revealing the gentle curve of the top of one breast. Jeremy felt the heat rising in his body, starting in his belly and radiating outward, up to his chest and down to his thighs. It would be so easy to blame it on the drink, but that heat was all created by Isabel. She pulled it out of thin air with her pouty lips, with her dark and sultry eyes, and with her sharp conversational skills. He was not the type to ask for more. Asking for anything only made things messy. It put you at a disadvantage, and he hated not feeling as though he had every weapon imaginable at his disposal. What was it about Isabel that made him want to lie down and give her everything?

“I want whatever you might be willing to give me,” he admitted.

She smiled and the faintest blush crossed her cheeks. Good God, she was so beautiful he had to wonder if all of this was really happening. “So I’m in the driver’s seat. That’s what you’re telling me.”

“Of course. As it should be, right?”

She nodded, arching her eyebrows in a way that suggested she hadn’t quite been prepared for the way their conversation had turned. He loved feeling like he could surprise her, even if the boost to his ego might be completely unwarranted. “So, Jeremy. Since I’m in charge, let me just share one more thing about myself. I don’t know how you feel about good views, but I have a spectacular one of the city. Upstairs in my room.”

Jeremy felt as though Isabel had just rolled Christmas, his birthday and Super Bowl Sunday into one day. “Funny you should ask, because I am a huge fan of views.” He leaned closer and lowered his head, his heart thundering away in his chest like a summer storm.

Isabel drifted closer to him until their noses were almost touching. The rest of the room had faded away. Other people and their surroundings were a distant thought. It was just the two of them, their breaths in sync and their intentions apparently aligned, as well. “Truth or dare,” she whispered.

“Dare,” he answered without hesitation.

“Good answer.” Her lips met his in the slightest of kisses. Her mouth only teased him, softer and more supple than he’d dared to imagine. She angled her head and took the kiss deeper, grasping his shoulder and digging her nails into his jacket. Her lips parted and her tongue skated along his lower lip, making every testosterone-driven part of him switch into high gear. The blood was pumping so fast it was hard to know which way was up.

He reached for her hip, the silk of her robe impossibly cool and soft against his skin. He pulled her closer, clawing at the tie at her waist, needing her. Wanting her. Like he needed to breathe or eat or drink water. This whole business of not knowing much about each other was so hot. It left him wondering what the night had in store, when he hadn’t been willing to gamble on the unknown in a long time.

“You never gave me my dare,” he said, coming up for air.

“I dare you to come upstairs and take off your suit, Jeremy. I dare you to rock my world.”


Two (#u6bd8d57e-7b9b-55c7-a009-92be362ba114)

It took every ounce of self-control Jeremy had to discreetly walk across that hotel lobby with Isabel. His gut was telling him to take her hand and run as fast as he could, jab the elevator button and get things going between them the instant they were inside. As long as they were alone.

Unfortunately, the elevator was not cooperating. “This thing is so slow,” Isabel said, jamming the button a second time. She subtly leaned against him and rubbed the side of his thigh with her hand.

Everything in his body went so tight it felt as though he was strapped to a piece of wood. Blood drained from his hands and feet and rushed straight to the center of his body. He swallowed back a groan and strategically held his briefcase to obscure anyone’s view of his crotch. His erection felt like it had its own pulse. He needed Isabel, now.

Finally the elevator dinged and they rushed on board as soon as the other passengers were off. He’d hoped they’d be able to ride alone, but at the last minute, someone shoved their hand between the doors.

It was an older gray-haired woman. “I’m sorry. Thought I’d catch it while I could. Otherwise you end up waiting forever.”

“So true,” Isabel said. She leaned against the back wall, standing right next to Jeremy. She looked over at him as her hand again caressed his thigh. She bit her lower lip and he thought he might faint. She was too hot for words.

Mercifully, the woman got off the elevator at the fifth floor, but being alone with Isabel only opened the floodgates. He dropped his briefcase as they smashed into each other, kissing hard, tongues and wet lips, insistent hands everywhere. He yanked at the tie on her robe, then fumbled with the buttons on her pajama top. Hers were inside his suit jacket, tugging his shirt out from the waist of his pants. By the time the elevator dinged on the eighteenth floor, they were both in a disheveled state of near-undress.

Isabel picked up his briefcase, handed it to him and dashed down the hall, with Jeremy in close pursuit. She pulled her key card from her robe pocket and Jeremy stole a look down the front of her pajama top, which was already half-unbuttoned. Her breasts were full, her skin creamy and he couldn’t wait to have his hands all over them.

Isabel flung open the door and Jeremy again dropped his briefcase, relieved he didn’t need to keep track of it anymore. Isabel took off her robe and undid the last two buttons on her pajama top, tossing it to the floor. He cupped her breasts in both hands, her skin even softer and more velvety smooth than he’d imagined. Her nipples tightened beneath his touch. He loved seeing and feeling how responsive she was to him. Her pajama pants hung loosely below her belly button, clinging to her curvy hips. He wanted to see every inch of her and with a single tug of the drawstring at her waist, they slumped to the floor. She had no panties on underneath and that view of everything to come made everything beneath his waist grow even tighter, even hotter.

“You have on way too many clothes,” she said as she flew through the buttons on his shirt and he got rid of his jacket. She then seemed to notice exactly how fierce his erection was. “Very nice.” She flattened her hand against the front of his pants and pressed hard, rubbing up and down firmly.

He wavered between full sight and blindness. It felt so impossibly good. He only wanted more. This time, Jeremy didn’t have to disguise his reaction, and he let out a groan at full roar. Isabel responded by unzipping his pants while he toed off his shoes. A few seconds later, she had the rest of his clothes in a puddle on the floor. She wrapped her hand around his length and took careful strokes while he kissed her. It had been so long since he’d wanted a woman like he wanted her. Something about her left him letting down his guard.

“Do you have a condom?” he asked, realizing that he did not. This was not good planning on his part, but he did not make a regular habit of meeting women after work and going up to their hotel rooms.

“I do. In the bathroom. One minute.” Isabel traipsed off and he watched her full bottom and long legs in graceful motion. He couldn’t wait to be inside her.

She returned seconds later with a box, which she set on the bedside table after taking out a packet. She tore open the foil and closed in on him, a bit like a tiger stalks its prey. Jeremy liked feeling so wanted. It felt good to know that he still had the power to do this to a woman.

Isabel took the condom and gently placed it on the tip of his erection, then rolled it down his length, all while their gazes connected. She owned every touch, every action of her beautiful body, and Jeremy wanted to drown in her self-confidence. He wanted to live in the world she did—where there seemed to be zero reason to question oneself.

Across the room sat that big beautiful bed, with a crisp white comforter and countless pillows. But Jeremy wanted to make love to Isabel in every corner of this room, and the chair that was right next to him seemed like the perfect place to start. He took her hand and he sat down, easing his hips to the edge of the seat. Isabel didn’t miss a beat, straddling his legs and placing her knees on the chair next to his hips. Jeremy reached between them and positioned himself, then Isabel lowered her body onto his. He kept both his hands on her hips while his sights were set solely on her stunning face. Her mouth went slack and she closed her eyes as she let him slide inside. She was a perfect fit. And Jeremy was nothing if not thankful to whatever forces in the universe had brought him to this moment.

Isabel dictated the pace, which was perfect for him. He wanted to know what she liked. Despite the fact that he had so much pent-up need inside him, this was all about her. He would not leave until she was fully satisfied. He eased one hand to her lower back and urged her to lean into him so he could kiss her. Fully and deeply. Meanwhile, Isabel rode his length up and down and Jeremy struggled to keep up, to keep from reaching his destination too soon. He did not want to disappoint her.

Their kisses were soft and wet, tongues sensuously twisting together. Jeremy caressed her breast with one hand while the other cupped her backside, his fingers curled into the soft and tender flesh. Isabel raked her hands through his hair over and over again, telling him with soft moans and subtle gasps that she was happy. He felt her tightening around him, and that matched her breaths, which had become ragged and torn.

“I’m close,” she muttered into his ear, then kissed his neck.

He’d passed close several minutes ago and had since been skirting the edge, trying to ward off his climax. “Come for me.”

Isabel planted her forehead against his and went for it, riding his length faster, sinking as far down as she could with every pass. Jeremy was fairly sure he had no blood flow to the rest of his body as he steeled himself. As soon as she let go and called out, he did the same, following behind her. Her muscles gathered around him tightly, over and over again, and the relief that washed over him was immense.

All he could think as the orgasm faded and Isabel collapsed against his chest was that he had to have her one more time. And quite possibly one more time after that.






“I need you again, Isabel.” Jeremy smoothed his hand over her naked back and kissed her shoulder, bringing everything in her post-bliss body back to a quick simmer.

“Already?” she asked, slowly easing herself off his lap. She stepped over to the bed, where a mere hour or so ago she’d been attempting to sleep, and pulled back the comforter. She certainly hadn’t thought at that time that she’d end up with a man in her room later.

“I’m going to need a minute or two, but I swear that’s all.” Jeremy padded off to the bathroom.

Isabel climbed into bed and immediately rested her head back on the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. Wow. She was glad Jeremy wanted more. That first time had been so hurried. She wanted the opportunity to savor him.

Moments later, he joined her, climbing in next to her and pressing his long body against hers. “You’re incredible. Once was not enough.”

She could already feel his erection against her leg. She was nothing if not impressed. Jeremy with the salt-and-pepper hair had a very quick recovery time. Of course she was on board. Considering that they hardly knew each other, he had an uncanny ability to hit all of her most sensitive spots. She really appreciated a man who picked up on her cues and followed suit.

“We need another condom,” she said, kissing him deeply.

He rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed, took one from the box on the nightstand. Isabel turned to her side and swished her hand across the silky sheets, feeling his body heat still there. She admired his muscled back in the soft light from the window. He was in unbelievable shape and she was happy to reap the rewards.

When he turned back to her, he smiled. “You are so beautiful. I’m still trying to figure out how I managed to talk you into taking me upstairs.”

She swatted his arm, then pulled him closer as he reclined next to her. “You’re no slouch. Believe me.”

He kissed her sweetly, then his approach turned more seductive, as he opened his mouth and their tongues found each other, swirling and swooping. He was an amazing kisser, there was no doubt about that. Isabel could have kissed him forever; they were in perfect sync. He rolled her to her back and hovered above her, holding his body weight with his firm arms. Isabel ran her hands from his wrists to his shoulders, her eyes closing and opening as he lowered his mouth to her neck, then her breast, taking her nipple between his lips. He was unhurried now, a stark contrast to the frenzied first time.

He positioned himself at her entrance and drove inside slowly, pushing her patience, letting her feel every inch as he filled her perfectly. Isabel rolled her head from side to side, feeling the cool pillow on her cheeks as Jeremy made the rest of her body red hot. She raised her knees to let him in deeper, and he was taking mind-bending strokes just like he had the first time. This was the advantage of a man later in life. He knew what he was doing.

He slipped his hand between their bodies and pressed his thumb against her apex, rolling in firm circles as he kept his even pace. She was surprised how quickly the tension wrapped itself around her, the way he drove her toward the edge of the cliff so perfectly. Right there. The climax was toying with her now, ebbing closer, then pulling away. Each pass brought it nearer and she could feel ahead of time just how intense it was going to be. She heard her own hums and moans, but her consciousness was so deep inside her own body that it came out muffled and fuzzy. Meanwhile, she became fitful and greedy, needing him closer. Needing more. She dug her heels into his backside, pulling him into her, and that was when the orgasm slammed into her, even harder and more intense than last time. This was an order of magnitude she hadn’t been prepared for—sheer gratification awash in beautiful colors and hazy, unworried thoughts.

As she became more aware of the here and now, Isabel could tell that Jeremy was also near his peak. His breaths were labored, but light, just like they had been the first time. Puffs of air that seemed to go in one direction. Just in. And further in. In one sudden movement, he jerked, then his torso froze in place, his hips flush against her bottom. She wrapped her legs around him tightly and raked her fingers up and down his strong back, feeling every defined muscle. As her own pleasure continued to swirl around her, she blazed a trail of hot kisses against his neck, wanting to show her appreciation. Jeremy was magnificent. Absolutely perfect.

“Oh, no,” he groaned. “The condom. It broke.”

Just like that, the spell was broken. “Did you?” she asked. Had she really just been thinking that this was perfect? She should have known better. That did not exist. Not for her, at least.

“Did I come? Yes.” He rolled off of her and jumped up from the bed, rushing off to the bathroom.

Isabel closed her eyes and pinched her nose. Great. So much for her fun with handsome Jeremy. So much for the idea of a third time. Or a fourth. This was about to come to a quick end, she guessed, at least judging by how quickly he had retreated to the bathroom.

He returned a few seconds later with a towel wrapped around his waist. He paced, running his hands through his hair. “I don’t know what to say, other than I’m sorry.”

Her instinct was to make him feel better, even when she was feeling worse by the second. “Not your fault. It happens.”

Awkward silence followed, and she knew that Jeremy was planning his escape. He had his lips pressed tightly together like he couldn’t figure out what to do next. Part of her was tempted to point to the door and save them both the embarrassment. Part of her wanted to put on her sleep mask and convince herself this part wasn’t happening. They’d had such an amazing night together. It didn’t seem fair that it should end like this. But that was life. Nothing to do about it but move on.

He sat on the edge of the bed, but it was about as far away from her as possible. The divide between them now felt like it was a mile wide. In some ways, she felt like she knew him even less now than she had when they’d first met downstairs. “I don’t even know your last name. What if I just got you pregnant?”

Isabel knew that uncertain edge in his voice. She’d heard it before. One time in particular had been so painful she thought she might never recover. That had been over an actual pregnancy, not merely a fear of obligation. Her initial impression of Jeremy had been correct. He came off as smooth for a reason—he was all about the pursuit, not about sticking around. And that was fine. No harm, no foul. They hardly knew each other. It was understandable that he might feel trapped. It was now her job to let him off the hook, if only to allow herself to get on her with her life.

“If it makes you feel any better, my name is Isabel Blackwell.”

He glanced over at her. “Oh. Okay. My last name is Sharp.”

Isabel grabbed the sheet and pulled it up over herself. Exchanging last names had done nothing to make this situation more comfortable. If anything, it made it so much more obvious that she wasn’t built for one-night stands.

Isabel scooted up in bed until her back was against the headboard. “Look. Don’t worry about it. It’s okay. I keep track of my cycle pretty closely. I don’t think there’s any chance we’re in trouble.” She’d undersold that part by quite a bit. She’d been methodically tracking her periods for the last several years. If she managed to meet Mr. Right, she wanted to be able to try for a baby as soon as possible. Isabel prepared for everything in life. It was the best way to avoid surprises and the perfect distraction when you felt like the things you wanted weren’t happening fast enough.

“Okay. Well, I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to stay...” His voice trailed off, leaving Isabel to make the final declaration.

“No, Jeremy. It’s okay. I think it’s probably best at this point if you head home. I have a big meeting tomorrow and I’m sure you have things you need to do tomorrow. We probably both need a good night’s sleep.”

He nodded. “Sure. Yes. Of course.” He got up from the bed and began collecting his clothes from their various locales across the room. He let go of the towel so he could step into his boxers, giving Isabel one last parting glance at perfect Jeremy. Damn. If only this hadn’t started so absurdly. If only it hadn’t ended so uncomfortably. He might have been a guy she would have wanted around for a while.

Wrapped up in the sheet, she climbed out of bed and padded past him to the bathroom. She quietly closed the door behind her and sucked in several deep breaths. You’re okay. Moving to New York was supposed to be her new beginning, especially with men and the notion of having a personal life. So she’d had a false start. Jeremy was ultimately a nice guy. He was handsome, sexy and kind. They’d had some rotten luck, but that happened every day. Isabel needed to get past the idea that her fresh start was ruined by one mishap.

She stepped to the sink, took a sip of water from the glass on the vanity and prepared herself to walk back out into the room. “Worse things have happened.” When she opened the bathroom door, Jeremy was standing right outside, suit on but no tie. His briefcase was in his hand. For a moment, she wondered what he did for work. Probably a Wall Street guy. He seemed the type—cocky, good-looking, sure of himself. She wouldn’t ask him now.

“Okay, then. You off?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yes. Thank you for tonight. It was really nice. I swear.”

She had to laugh at what a sad and funny situation she’d gotten herself into. She stepped closer to him and stole one last kiss. “Jeremy. You were amazing. And I hope you have a lifetime of making money and finding fun wherever you go.”

He smiled, but it wasn’t a full-throttle grin, not the smile that had first sparked her curiosity or the chemistry between them. “I hope you find everything you’re looking for, Isabel Blackwell.”

With that, she opened the door and watched as he walked down the hall to the elevator. She hoped Jeremy was right. She didn’t want to go too much longer waiting.


Three (#u6bd8d57e-7b9b-55c7-a009-92be362ba114)

Jeremy finally gave in at 4:37 a.m. His night’s sleep was a lost cause. He climbed out from under his down comforter and sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, and ran a hand through his hair. A deep sigh escaped his lips, but he could have sworn he heard a word in it. A name. Isabel. What the hell was that? What the hell happened?

He’d never had a woman work her way into his psyche in such a short amount of time—mere hours. Sure, part of it was the fact that he was still stinging from the way he’d had to exit her room, and her life. When they’d been down at the bar flirting and she offered the invitation to come upstairs, his plan had been to leave her happy and exhausted, positively aglow from sex. Instead, he’d departed while she was bundled up in a sheet like a hastily wrapped gift, granting him a dispassionate kiss goodbye and leaving him with the crushing sense that they would always have unfinished business.

Another sigh came. He was going to have to stop letting this get to him.

With a long day of client meetings ahead, he decided to get in a workout. He sometimes managed to sneak away at lunch and go to the Sharp and Sharp gym, but that likely wouldn’t happen today. He flipped on the light in his master bedroom, grabbed a pair of shorts, a T-shirt and running shoes, then made his way up one set of stairs to the fourth floor of this renovated brownstone. He had a small theater and gym up there, additions he made after his ex-wife moved out. Kelsey never saw the point in watching movies and didn’t want the “smell” of a workout space. But now that he was all on his own, Jeremy could do as he liked.

It wasn’t much of a consolation.

Forty-five minutes on the treadmill and a half hour of free weights was enough to work up a sufficient sweat and shake off some of the lingering thoughts of Isabel. He hustled down to the second floor and the gourmet kitchen, where he prepared entirely too many meals for one. Coffee was dripping into the carafe when he heard a familiar sound coming from the patio off the back of the house.

Meow.

It was December 9. It was entirely too cold for an animal to be outside. Jeremy padded over to the glass door, and as had happened many times before, a large orange tabby cat was winding his way back and forth in front of the window. The cat had been to the house many times, and Jeremy had even taken him in once before, over a year ago when it was unbearably hot. The cat’s visit had lasted less than a day. He slipped out the front door when Jeremy came home from work that night. Jeremy wasn’t a cat person at all—he didn’t really see the point of a pet that didn’t do anything other than lounge around all day. He’d called Animal Control to see if they could catch him, but they’d seemed unconcerned. He’d even had his assistant call the veterinarian in his neighborhood of Park Slope, but they couldn’t do much until someone caught the cat and brought him in. Jeremy kept hoping someone else would take on the burden, but apparently not. At least not today.

Meow. The cat reared up on its hind legs and pressed a single paw to the glass, peering up at Jeremy with eyes that were entirely too plaintive.

Jeremy crouched down and looked into his little cat face. “Buddy. What are you doing out there? It’s six in the morning and it’s freezing.”

Meow. The cat pawed at the glass.

Jeremy straightened. This was the last thing he had time for, but temperatures weren’t expected to get above freezing today. He couldn’t let the poor thing suffer. Resigned, he flipped the dead bolt, turned the knob and tugged on it. Bitter cold rushed in, but not as fast as the cat. Jeremy closed the door, realizing he now had a big task ahead of him—he had to feed the cat and figure out where to put him all day while he was at work.

He went to the pantry to look for a can of tuna, but that was a bust. Then he remembered that he had some lox in the refrigerator from the bagel shop down the street.

“I guess we’re going to find out if you like smoked salmon.” He placed a slice of the fish on a plate and broke it into smaller pieces with his fingers. Jeremy had a feeling this was going to be a big hit. The cat was now rubbing against his ankles.

Jeremy put the plate on the floor and the cat began to scarf down the food. Mission one, accomplished. He filled a cereal bowl with water for the cat, then went about making his own breakfast of eggs and a bagel. As he sat at the kitchen island, the cat wound its way around the legs of his barstool, purring loudly enough for Jeremy to hear. He had to get to the office, so he sent a text to his housekeeper, who would be arriving around eight. There’s a cat in the house. Don’t ask. Can you bring a litter box and show it to him?

Margaret replied quickly. You got a cat?

Jeremy laughed. Not on purpose.

After getting cleaned up and dressed, Jeremy left for the office, arriving promptly at seven thirty, just like every other day. Not only was the weather unbearably cold, it was gray and dreary, somewhat typical for early December, although Jeremy couldn’t help but feel like it was somehow sunnier outside than it was inside the Sharp and Sharp offices.

The other partners typically arrived at eight, but Jeremy had learned long ago that his boss, who was also his dad, demanded that his own son deliver more than everyone else. Jeremy had worked twice as hard to make partner. He brought in nearly twice as much billing. He worked like a dog for two reasons. First, he hoped that he would eventually make his father happy enough to loosen his iron grip on the firm and afford Jeremy some autonomy. The second reason fed into the first. When Jeremy had been in the middle of his divorce, he bungled a big case. The Patterson case, a multimillion-dollar wrongful termination suit. It should have been a slam dunk and instead, Jeremy dropped the ball, mostly because his personal life was falling apart. His dad might never forgive him for that grave error, but Jeremy had to keep trying. He had to live the life of a workaholic for the foreseeable future.

In recent months, his father had been pressuring him to bring on a very specific sort of big-fish client, someone with a case that could attract media attention, even of the tabloid variety. In the internet age, one juicy headline brought a lot of free exposure. And although his dad was a traditional and upstanding guy, he loved the spotlight. He basked in it. He loved knowing the firm’s coffers were piled to the ceiling with cash.

“Morning, son,” his dad said, poking his head into Jeremy’s office. He truly was the spitting image of Jeremy, only twenty-three years older. A bit more gray. A few more deep creases. The uncanny similarities in their appearance made the problems in their relationship that much more difficult—on the outside they were nearly identical. On the inside, they couldn’t have been more different. “Are we a go with the Summers case?”

“We are. I’m just waiting for the signed agreement to come in this morning and then we’ll be in contact with the legal department at Eden’s.”

His dad glanced at the chair opposite Jeremy’s desk. “May I?”

“Of course.” Jeremy took a deep breath and prepared himself for what might come—there was no telling with his dad. Some days, he was calm and reasonable. Other times, he hit the roof over the smallest detail. It had been like that since Jeremy was a kid, and he still wasn’t used to it.

“What do you think is the real reason Mr. Summers fired Mulvaney and Moore?”

“Honestly? I met with Mr. Summers last night and he’s a little off his rocker. He’s dead set on getting revenge against the Eden family. This is about far more than money. I’m sure that scared off the senior partners at M and M. They’re an incredibly conservative firm.” Jeremy leaned back in his chair. “Why? Are you worried about it? There’s still time to call it off if you want.”

His dad shook his head, pulling at his chin with his fingers. “No. No. I think it’s a good thing. Summers is desperate and he’s willing to pay for it. I don’t have a problem with getting our hands dirty. Your grandfather always avoided it.”

Jeremy’s grandfather had been the first Sharp in Sharp and Sharp. In fact, Jeremy’s dad had declined to add an extra Sharp to the firm’s name when Jeremy made partner. He’d simply waited for his own father to pass away. Jeremy missed his grandfather. He was the real reason he’d become an attorney, and things had been much different around the office when he was still alive. His grandfather had a love for the law and the myriad ways it could be interpreted. He loved the arguments and the strategy. His dad had a love of money and winning. He refused to lose, something that had been hammered into Jeremy’s head countless times.

“I think it’ll be just fine. I have it all under control.” Jeremy knew nothing of the sort, but he had to lie. The truth was that the meeting with Benjamin Summers at the Bacharach had been chaotic. Thus the reason for the Manhattan. Thus the reason for perhaps not exercising the best judgment with Isabel.

“Don’t let this one get away from you. If he’s fired one firm, he’ll fire another, and I don’t think I need to tell you that it would be a real shame for our bottom line if we lost this billing. It’ll be a scramble for you if you have to make up for it.”

It was just like his dad to make not-so-thinly-veiled threats. “He’s not going to fire us.”

“At least you’re only going up against the Eden’s corporate lawyers. Those guys are so far out of their depth with a case like this. It should be a walk in the park if you do it right.”

There went another insult wrapped up as praise. Jeremy wasn’t about to point it out. It never did any good. “I’m not worried about it. I’ve got it all under control.”

“Good.” His dad rose from his seat and knocked his knuckle against Jeremy’s desk, then made his departure. “Have a good day.”

“You, too.” Jeremy grumbled under his breath and got back to work, writing up the details for his assistant so she could set up the meeting with the Eden’s legal team, which he hoped could happen tomorrow. It was the only thing he could do—try to move ahead. Try to make Dad happy. And after that, he’d need to dig into the mountain of work on his desk. Anything to take his mind off Isabel Blackwell and their amazing night that went horribly wrong.






Isabel arrived at Eden’s Department Store shortly before 10:00 a.m. the morning after her rendezvous with Jeremy. Her lawyerly instincts normally had her keyed up and wide-awake before a client meeting, but she was so tired she could hardly drag herself out of the taxi.

She hadn’t managed more than a few minutes of sleep. After his departure, Jeremy’s warm smell lingered on the sheets, meaning the memory of his touch followed her with every toss and turn. If the condom hadn’t broken, their night might have gone on to be nothing less than perfect. He might have asked to see her again, an invitation she would have eagerly accepted. She might have started her new life in New York on a positive note. But the moment they had their mishap and Isabel witnessed firsthand how anxious he was to get out of her room and away from her, she knew he wasn’t the right guy. It didn’t matter that he was charming, sexy and one of the most handsome men she’d ever had the good fortune to meet. She needed more. She needed a man who would stick around, not run for the exits the instant things got serious.

Per her brother Sam’s directions, Isabel took the elevator up to the top floor where the Eden’s executive offices were. Sam was sitting in reception when she got there.

“Hey, handsome,” she said as Sam got up out of his seat.

He was dressed in all black—suit, shirt and tie, just as most days. He placed a kiss on her forehead. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Isabel wasn’t quite so happy about it, but she was hopelessly devoted to her brother and that meant she was going to take one last dubious legal assignment before turning her sights to less messy work. “I’m still not sure I’m the right person for this job.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re the exact right person for this job. You’re an expert at making problems like this go away.”

The subtext of Sam’s words made Isabel’s stomach sour. This wasn’t the sort of case that got wrapped up by legal wrangling and negotiation. Whenever you had very wealthy, powerful people fighting over something valuable, it inevitably turned into a race to the bottom. Who could dig up the most dirt? Who could make the other side cry for mercy first? “Sam, you know I don’t want to tackle this like a fix. I just don’t want to work like that anymore.”

Sam put his arm around Isabel and snugged her close. “You worry too much. It’s just a wealthy guy trying to get his hands on the store. You can handle this in your sleep.”

First, I’d have to get some sleep. “But your girlfriend’s family legacy is on the line. We can’t afford to be cavalier about it.”

“You mean fiancée.” Mindy Eden appeared on the far side of the reception area and approached them, a big smile on her face.

Isabel knew full well that Sam and Mindy had gotten engaged. She’d merely slipped. Perhaps it was her subconscious reminding her how bothered she was that her younger brother had found the sort of happiness she desperately wanted for herself. “I’m sorry. Fiancée.”

Mindy gave Isabel a hug, then wagged her fingers, showing off the square-cut diamond-and-platinum engagement ring Sam had given her. The thing was so big it looked like Mindy was walking around with an ice cube on her hand. “I honestly never thought this would happen.”

Isabel didn’t believe that for a minute. Mindy was lovely, but she seemed like the sort of woman who was accustomed to nothing less than getting exactly what she wanted out of life. “Why’s that? You had to know my brother was over the moon for you.”

Mindy elbowed Sam in the ribs. “I was oblivious to that for a while. I spent so much time focused on my career that I forgot to open my eyes.”

Isabel took a shred of comfort in that. She and Mindy might have butted heads when they first met, but that was only because of Isabel’s protectiveness of Sam. Mindy had hurt him and Isabel wasn’t going to be the one to forgive her for it. Now that Sam and Mindy had reconciled, and the two women had gotten to know each other a little better, Isabel knew that she and Mindy had some things in common. They were both driven, determined and not willing to take crap from anyone. “I’ll try to remember that when I jump back into the dating pool.”

“Any prospects?” Mindy asked.

“I’m out of here if you’re going to talk about guys,” Sam said, turning away. “I don’t do well with this subject when it comes to my sister.”

Isabel grabbed his arm. “Oh, stop. We’re not going to talk about that because there’s nothing to say. I need to get an apartment. There are a million other things for me to accomplish before I can seriously think about dating. I have to find an office and get my new practice up and running.”

“Don’t put it off too long,” Mindy said. She then cast her sights at Sam. “Are there any cute, eligible guys working for you right now? Maybe you can set her up.”

Sam shook his head. “Something tells me she doesn’t want that.”

In truth, Isabel might not mind it. If Sam picked out a man for her, she’d not only know that he had been fully vetted, she’d have the knowledge that Sam approved. That was no small matter. “We’ll see how I do. For now, let’s sit down and talk about the case.” Isabel was resigned to moving forward with this, and the sooner she started, the sooner she’d be done. So she’d delay her fresh start a few weeks. It wasn’t the end of the world.

“Come on,” Mindy said. “We’re going to meet in Emma’s office. It’s the biggest. It used to belong to my gram.”

Gram, or Victoria Eden, was the founder of Eden’s Department Store, which at its height had more than fifty stores worldwide. Unfortunately, the chain was now down to a single location, the original Manhattan store. Mrs. Eden had passed away unexpectedly a little more than a year ago, and left the business to Mindy, her sister, Sophie, and their half sister, Emma. It was a bit of a tawdry story—all three women had the same father, and their two mothers were also sisters. Victoria Eden had brought the affair to light via her will, where she told everyone of her son’s dalliance in an attempt to give Emma some justice.

Inside the office, Emma and Sophie were waiting. Isabel had met them both at a fund-raiser a month and a half ago, which was also when Sam and Mindy had finally figured out that they were desperately in love. Mindy made reintroductions and they all sat in the seating area—Isabel and Sophie on the couch, Sam in one chair with Mindy perched on the arm, and Emma opposite them.

“I guess we need to walk you through as much of this as we know,” Mindy said. “I wish we had more information, but until a few weeks ago, we had no idea who Benjamin Summers was.”

“He claims that our grandmother had an affair with his father, which is utterly preposterous,” Sophie said. “Gram was devoted to our grandfather for as long as he was alive.”

“Please, Soph. Can you not do this right now? Let me finish,” Mindy said, returning her sights to Isabel. “This would have been nearly forty years ago if it really happened. Early days for the store, but our grandmother was doing well and by all accounts, very eager to expand. That’s when Mr. Summers, the father, comes into play. Supposedly he lent our grandmother a quarter of a million dollars so she could open additional locations.”

“That was a lot of money at that time,” Isabel said. “And this is a handwritten promissory note?”

“Yes,” Mindy said. “We’ve been going back through the store’s old financials and bank records, but we can’t find any record of an influx of money. There are large chunks of cash flowing into the store at that time, but it could have just been sales. Unfortunately, the accounting from that time is nowhere near as exact as it is now. Most of it is on paper.”

Isabel’s gears were starting to turn. As much as she’d said she didn’t want to do this sort of work anymore—untangling the pasts of wealthy people—she had to admit that she had a real knack for it, and that made her feel as though she was ready to tackle it. “The first thing we’re going to need to do is get the promissory note authenticated. There’s a good chance it’s not real.”

“Do you think it could be a fake?” Emma asked.

“You’d be surprised the lengths people will go to in order to cash in.”

“But Mr. Summers is so wealthy,” Mindy said. “Why would he do that?”

Isabel sat back and crossed her legs. “It might not be the cash. It might be the store he’s after.”

“No. We can’t let that happen,” Sophie blurted.

Isabel didn’t want to be the bearer of bad tidings. Losing the store was a real possibility. For now, Isabel needed to get up to speed on the materials in the case and see where the Eden sisters stood. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Give me some time to look over everything. I have several different financial detectives I’ve worked with in the past. They’re going to need access to your records to see if we can figure out if the money ever flowed into the store at all.”

“How long is all of that going to take?” Mindy asked.

“A few days to a few weeks. It just depends.”

Mindy cleared her throat and Isabel sensed something bad was about to come to light. “Yeah. About that. We don’t have that kind of time. Mr. Summers’s lawyer sent a letter to the Eden’s in-house counsel today. He’s threatening a lawsuit right away if we don’t come to the negotiating table tomorrow.”

Isabel blinked several times while trying to absorb what Mindy had just said. “Mr. Summers not only wants us to start negotiating tomorrow, his lawyer isn’t even aware the store is employing outside counsel?”

“We thought a sneak attack was the best approach. They’re expecting someone else. Not Isabel Blackwell, Washington, DC, fixer.”

Isabel cringed at the words. She didn’t want to be that person anymore.

Sam sat forward and placed his hand on his sister’s knee. “I have to agree. The store is too important to the Eden family for us to be anything less than completely strategic about this. They’ll prepare for a corporate negotiation, not having any idea who they’re dealing with.”

Isabel took a deep breath, trying to ignore the way her already soured stomach grew even more uneasy. “Can I see the letter they sent?”

“Yes. Of course.” Mindy hopped up from her seat and grabbed a thin folder from Emma’s desk, handing it to Isabel.

Inside was a single page—the letter inviting Eden’s Department Store’s legal representation to the negotiating table. All looked in order until Isabel saw the name on the signature line. Then the blood drained from her face.

Jeremy Sharp. Oh my God.

Her big meeting tomorrow with the lawyer representing the man who wanted to take down Eden’s Department Store? It would be the second run-in with her one-night stand. And apparently, they were about to go from the bedroom to the war room.


Four (#u6bd8d57e-7b9b-55c7-a009-92be362ba114)

“I don’t want you to worry,” Jeremy said as he escorted Benjamin Summers into one of the meeting rooms at Sharp and Sharp. “We have everything well in hand.”

Mr. Summers turned to Jeremy and narrowed his eyes until they were only small slits. “Why aren’t we meeting in the main conference room? The one with the big windows. The one you can see from the waiting room.”

Jeremy pulled back a chair and offered Mr. Summers a seat. “Because this is more discreet.” In truth, Jeremy preferred it because it meant his father couldn’t interfere unless he walked right in on them. Jeremy had been in many client meetings where his dad paced back and forth outside that main conference room. It was unnerving as hell.

Mr. Summers sat in a huff. Jeremy hadn’t spent a lot of time with him, but he’d always been like this—gruff and impatient. “I’m not worried about discretion. If anything, I’d prefer not to have it. I’d like the whole world to know that I’m going after Eden’s. Victoria Eden destroyed my parents’ marriage and this is the only way I can seek retribution on behalf of my mother.”

Jeremy poured Mr. Summers a glass of water, hoping that might help to cool his temper. “I don’t think it’s a great idea to bring that up in this meeting. I know it’s difficult to curb your personal feelings about the matter, but we need to focus on the bottom line, which is a very large unpaid debt.”

Mr. Summers cleared his throat and tapped his fingers on the table. “Fine. I’ll take your advice.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“For now.”

One of the admins in the office poked his head into the conference room. “Mr. Sharp, the Eden’s representatives and legal team have arrived. Shall I show them in?”

Jeremy turned to Mr. Summers, hoping he could get him to remain calm and collected. “Are you ready, Mr. Summers?”

“More than I’ve ever been.”

Jeremy stood and straightened his jacket, then made his way to the door. The in-house counsel for Eden’s was a crew of white-haired older men, much like his dad and Mr. Summers. He knew he could handle this easily as long as everyone could set aside their egos. But when he glanced down the hall, a stunning vision came into view—a woman who was not easy to handle. Isabel.

What the hell? For an instant, Jeremy shrank back from the door, his mind whirring with thoughts, even when there was no time to think. Before he knew what was happening, Isabel, along with another woman and a very tall man, were being led into the room by Jeremy’s admin. “Mr. Sharp, this is Mindy Eden, COO of Eden’s Department Store.”

Mindy, willowy and poised with flame-red hair, offered her hand. “Mr. Sharp.”

“Special adviser to Eden’s, Sam Blackwell,” his admin continued.

Sam, towering and dressed in black, shook Jeremy’s hand. “Hello.”

“And lastly, Isabel Blackwell, special counsel for Eden’s.”

Isabel stepped forward, but her beguiling scent arrived a split second before her. It filled his nose, and that sent memories storming into his mind—their white-hot tryst in her hotel room was not anything he would forget anytime soon. Unfortunately, he couldn’t afford to think about what her luscious naked body looked like under her trim gray suit. He was too busy trying to tamp down his inner confusion. Had she known who he was when she seduced him? Had she seen him in the bar with Mr. Summers a mere fifteen minutes before the fire alarm sounded?

“It’s nice to meet you.” Isabel offered her hand. He’d noticed that night that her skin was unusually warm, but right now he felt as though he’d been burned.

Jeremy cleared his throat. “Nice to meet you, as well.” He gestured to the other side of the long mahogany table, more rattled than when he’d worked his very first case. He couldn’t help but feel as though they were being ambushed. He’d been led to believe that Eden’s in-house counsel would be handling this. Unless Isabel was a new addition to their team, she was a ringer. “Please have a seat.”

Isabel sat directly opposite Jeremy. The look on her face was difficult to decipher, but he reminded himself that he hardly knew her. What were her motives? What sort of person was she? Most important, what was her endgame? For a man with countless trust issues when it came to women, this was not only bringing all that to the surface in an uncomfortable way, it felt as though Isabel had opened an entirely new area of mistrust to explore. He deeply disliked the revelation.

Jeremy drew in a calming breath. Focus. He looked Isabel square in the eye. She met his gaze with steely composure. On the surface, she was quite simply stunning. Easily the sexiest woman he’d ever met. But he sensed now that beneath that flawless exterior was a woman who was at the very least, trouble. He didn’t want to regret the other night, but perhaps he should. Would he feel as though he was at less of a disadvantage right now if it hadn’t happened? “Ms. Blackwell, your client’s grandmother borrowed 250 million dollars from Mr. Summers’s father in 1982. She offered the Manhattan location of Eden’s Department Store, the building, inventory and the land it sits on as collateral. By our calculations, with standard interest adjusted for inflation and compounded monthly, that unpaid loan now sits at a balance of just over 842 million.”




Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/pages/biblio_book/?art=48660006) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.