Smart men don't sleep with their boss's daughter.

It's one of those easy, clean facts that you don't doubt. You don't question it. There are no late hours spent pouring over data or carefully gathered notes to decide if, for sure, you shouldn't bury your dick in that girl.

And I hate to brag, but I'm a smart man.

Which was why this problem was particularly infuriating.

“Rolland?”

I flicked my eyes back to Marcus. Had he caught me eyeballing Tatiana where she was sitting on the patio furniture across the yard, her perfect legs crossed so her knees could prop up the book she was reading? No—Marcus was too busy yawning into his half-empty Grande Frappuccino from Starbucks. He was an okay accountant, but a shit body guard. Lucky me.

“I was saying,” I began again, flipping through the papers in my lap. “That you need to tell Sergio he’s wasting too much money on drivers. He’s got five on payroll, but he only uses three in the same day.”

“Wasting money?” Marcus snorted. “Yeah, I’ll go tell the billionaire top-dog that he’s wasting cash.”

“He is,” I insisted. I scanned the yard around us, noting the line of men in white, tucked-in shirts as they arranged tables under the avocado trees. “Speaking of, what’s he burning his bank accounts down for now?”

Marcus followed my eyes. “Ah. Tatiana’s graduation party is tonight.”

Graduation party. From her final year at college. I’m not proud of my attraction to the girl, but she’s not a damn kid. I know for a fact that she’s twenty-two, and while that’s still six years younger than me, it’s not so bad. The bad part is she’s the daughter of one of the most powerful men this side of the pacific, I reminded myself coldly.

“How much is he spending on this?” I asked.

“Couple thousand.” Marcus shrugged, then he looked directly at Tatiana. “She’s his precious little doll. Don’t bother trying to talk him out of spending a single dime on her pretty head.”

Using the excuse to stare at her again, I nodded. “If he’s already spent the money, no point in forcing the issue.” Tatiana reached up to tuck a piece of her long, thick dark hair behind her ear. The motion was absent-minded—it made me swallow. Especially when she followed it up by licking her thumb and turning the page of her book. I couldn’t read the cover from here but desperately wanted to know what had her so engrossed. Maybe if it was something terrible, I could get myself to start disliking her. That would be much better for my livelihood.

Tatiana adjusted herself on the lawn chair. Her reflective sunglasses and wide-brimmed straw hat reminded me of Old Hollywood. I had a soft spot for Silver Screen classics, and she was channeling Audrey Hepburn something fierce.

As I watched, her chin moved. Did she notice me?

The tip of her tongue traced her upper lip. It sent a tight, pleasurable rush through my belly. Then she crossed her ankles, allowing her long, bare legs to extend further from her draped-open shawl. Navy-blue shorts peeked beneath. If she stood, they’d cover most of her thighs, but right now they were tugging into her crevice and when she pointed her toes the material slid right into her—

“She’s smoking-hot, huh?”

I jumped, gaping at Marcus and his sharp grin. “What?”

“Tatiana.” He motioned with his coffee cup. “It’s no wonder Sergio made her live at home all these years. He’s too paranoid to trust the boys in her class from trying something. He wouldn’t hesitate to knee-cap the bloke who dared to flirt with her.”

I didn’t need that mental image. “Let’s get back to the numbers.”

“Sure, sure.” He took a long drink from his cup, then sighed. “Guarantee she’s a virgin.”

My whole body tensed. Jesus Christ. “Would Sergio break your knee-caps for that comment, or just your fingers?”

The color faded from his face. “Alright, jeez. There’s better ways to keep me on track than making me feel sick, Rolland.” He ruffled through his notebook, scribbling something. “There, I put down Talk about drivers.”

I bit back a satisfied smile. “Perfect.”

“Makes sense why Sergio keeps you close. You’re like some kinda robot, nothing distracts you.”

Weeks ago, I would have agreed. I cared about perfection and a job well done. Nothing entered my mind but work...

Until Sergio invited me to his estate for a black-tie party.

I’d known he had a daughter. I’d seen her childhood, multi-colored brace-wearing photos all over his office. Nothing about Tatiana caught my attention.

I had no idea how much that would change.