Ginny pulled the heel of her shoe to her butt to stretch her quad. “You should stretch,” she told Veronica.

Veronica looked over at her through dark glasses and sipped on her green smoothie, not moving from her perch on the bench. Her skin had the pallor of someone who’d overindulged the night before. Of course, the scent of alcohol pouring out of Veronica’s skin was a dead giveaway.

Ginny sighed and turned away. It was a miracle Veronica had shown up at all. Though their family had sponsored the annual Relay for Life ball and 5k for the last thirty years, this was only Veronica’s third appearance at the 5k since she’d been old enough not to be dragged kicking and screaming by their parents.

Veronica should have stayed home. Ginny actually enjoyed the event, but Veronica’s presence put a damper on it. She loved her older sister, but these days, she didn’t like her very much. Veronica had always been difficult, but now she was damn near impossible.

And she had no clue how much Ginny was sacrificing.

If she did, would she even care?

Ginny banished that thought. Of course she would. Somewhere beneath the ice-cold bitch exterior Veronica broadcasted was the big sister who used to help her braid her Barbie’s hair. The big sister who taught her how to apply makeup. The big sister who loved her.

Twenty minutes to go. Soon the announcers would call the runners to the starting line. Ginny yearned for the feel of the pavement under her sneakers and the burn of her muscles as she neared the finish line. When was the last time she’d gone on a proper run? The Frazier Corporation took up so much time there was little left over for anything else, much less a good run. She was woefully unprepared for this race and had no delusions she would finish with a decent time.

With one final glance over her shoulder at Veronica, Ginny slipped her buds in her ears and scrolled through the playlist on her iPhone. The cops up ahead motioned the last few cars through the intersection before it would be closed for the duration of the race.

Ginny jumped as a hand touched her shoulder.

“Veronica, if you’re going to—” She whirled and came in direct contact with a hard, lean chest. She jumped back and stared into dark eyes that made her knees weak, the same as they’d done eight hours earlier.

“Tony,” she said breathily. “What are you doing here?”

He held up a pledge card. “I’m going to run.” In his other hand, he held a number to be pinned to his shirt.

She peered closer at the card. “Adamo Enterprises” was scrawled on the top line next to a sizable number. “Only one donor?”

He shrugged. “I was late to sign up, so . . .”

“Well.” There was so much she wanted to say, but nothing she could say. “Good luck.”

She turned to leave, but he grabbed her wrist. “Ginny, wait. I want to talk to you.”

She crossed her arms and rocked back on her heels, looking down at her shoes. Anywhere but at him. “So talk.”

“You shouldn’t be with Barkov.”

Ginny looked up sharply with a gasp on her lips. The man certainly didn’t beat around the bush. She squared her shoulders. “You have no right to tell me that.”

“I know you’re not happy with him.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know anything about me.”

He put his hands on his hips and let out a deep breath, obviously frustrated.

Frustrated and sexy as hell. He was wearing athletic shorts and a worn gray T-shirt. His forearms were muscled and tan, his legs long and lean. Taut pectoral muscles were visible under the soft cotton. His physique was, in a word, beautiful. If the whole CEO thing didn’t work out, he could always hack it as a stripper.

Hell, perhaps she could hire him for her bachelorette party, she thought wryly.

“Tell me, then.” He took a step forward, invading her personal space to make deep eye contact. “Tell me that you’re actually happy with that guy.”

She took a step back and huffed, avoiding eye contact. “Pshh.” Who did Tony think he was? She didn’t have to answer to him.

Even if she wanted to.

“You can’t do it, can you? I know you’re miserable, Ginny. I could tell just by watching you with him last night.”

If that was the case, then she needed to brush up on her acting skills.

She closed her eyes for a moment to harden herself against the pull she felt toward Tony. One kiss. That was all they shared. It meant nothing.

“I’m going to marry Fedor. It’s what I want to do.”

Tony shook his head. “Bullshit.”

She put her hand up to touch his arm, but thought better of it. One touch could be all it took to ruin her resolve. “Goodbye, Tony.” She turned and walked away.

* * *

“Fuck!” Tony watched Ginny walk away from him. Again. That was twice now.

Anger burned in his gut when another man checked out her ass. Ginny was rocking her Lycra running gear, and her curves were even more on display than they’d been in last night’s dress. He wanted to rip the guy’s eyeballs out of his head for leering at her.

Somehow, he didn’t think she’d appreciate the gesture.

A feminine hand with fire-red polished nails trailed over his shoulder and down his arm. “What’s the matter, lover?”

“Cut the shit, Veronica.”

She removed her hand and had the nerve to look chagrinned. Objectively, Veronica was a knockout. Long blond hair, tits up to her chin, angelic face, and a body that could make lesser men weep.

Just looking at her made his skin crawl.

“Aw, Tony, you’re not still holding a grudge after all these years, are you?”

“No. You did me a favor by fucking two other guys while we were together.”

It hadn’t seemed like that at the time. Christ, he remembered sweating gallons while waiting for the results of his STD screening, convinced Veronica had given him some horrible disease. In the end, all she’d given him was a hard-earned lesson in trust.

Veronica wasn’t even fazed. “Why are you talking to my sister?”

“None of your goddamn business.” He walked away, but she trailed after him. She never did know when to quit.

“She’s marrying Fedor Barkov, you know.”

Tony grunted in response. Barkov was a corrupt motherfucker. He was nouveau riche, which was bad enough as far as the old money families were concerned, but Tony didn’t care about that. It was that his money had been attained by questionable—more than likely illegal—means. There were lots of rumors, but no one knew for sure exactly what business Barkov was in. But they knew it was shady as fuck.

What the hell did Ginny see in him? The match didn’t make sense.

“Yeah, I can’t figure it out, either,” Veronica said.

Tony started at Veronica’s comment. Then again, his displeasure was probably evident on his face. He was never one to hide his emotions.

“Aren’t you worried about her?” Tony asked. “Barkov is dangerous.”

After Tony had gone home last night, he’d done research on the man. His empire stretched far and wide, and most knew better than to cross him. More than one of his employees had gone missing and then turned up later in a dumpster.

Too bad Tony didn’t know better. He wasn’t going to let this go. His gut told him Ginny was in some sort of trouble. That kiss last night was not one of a woman in love with another man.

Veronica shrugged. “She’s a big girl. I don’t know what he sees in her though.”

Tony clenched his hands into fists and stopped walking. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

She put her hands on her hips and cocked her head. “No, I’m not. Everyone knows Barkov is shady, so what’s he doing with Goody-Two-Shoes Ginny? It seems to me someone else”—she ran her hands through her long blonde ponytail—“might be more his speed.”

He had to laugh at that. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

Her lips stretched into a smile as if he’d given her a compliment. Not for the first time, he marveled at the fact that Veronica and Virginia Frazier had come from the same womb.

“You know I have a point,” she said.

He considered. “True.” Veronica would thrive on the arm of a man like Barkov—a man who valued status, wealth, and power above all things. Those same things that Ginny had never shown an interest in and likely never would.

Something wasn’t right, and it wasn’t simply that his own desire to get close to Ginny was clouding his judgment.

Ginny had to have gotten herself into one seriously fucked-up situation. And he wouldn’t rest until he figured out what the hell it was.

* * *

Ginny groaned as she skimmed through the file she’d just opened on the computer. Another file in complete disarray. She shouldn’t be surprised. She could count on one hand the number that were in order.

Her father placed a mug of coffee on her desk. “For you, cupcake.”

“Thanks.” She took a sip and winced as she did. Not only was it scalding, but it was bitter and had a sludge-like consistency. She didn’t know how her father drank the stuff.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked.

In the time that she’d been working at the Frazier Corporation, she’d somehow transitioned into taking over the reins while her father gladly handed them over and seemingly slipped into the role of a dedicated assistant. In truth, he was probably relieved. He’d never claimed to have business savvy and hadn’t wanted to take over the family business when his time came. But when her grandfather died of a heart attack when she was six years old, her father had stepped up to the plate. He’d managed for years just on the talent and portfolio his father had left, but too long had passed and now they were almost sunk.

“I’m almost done sorting through all the records we have to date along with reconciling the accounts,” Ginny said. “I have to be honest . . . it’s not looking good.”

Her father frowned. Though he’d known he wasn’t as successful as his predecessor, he also hadn’t realized exactly how unsuccessful he was. Ginny hated having to break that news to him.

“How bad is it? I have stocks. And we can take another mortgage on the house.”

“No,” Ginny said quickly. The one thing that had been done right with the company was that it was entirely separate from the family’s personal holdings. If the business went under, her family’s personal assets wouldn’t sink with the ship.

The trouble was that her father had already broken this rule, mortgaging their house to infuse capital into the dying company. If she didn’t do something, they would probably lose the home that had been in her family for generations after all. Daniel Frazier could write the book on what not to do in business.

Ginny didn’t have a formal education in business, either. Her degree was in elementary education. But once she’d finished her master’s degree, she’d come home at the request of her mother to help her father. It didn’t take long for her to figure out he was in over his head and probably had been for the last twenty years. So she’d taught herself what she needed to know and called in any favors she could.

But her efforts were just a drop in the bucket when it came to saving the company.

“I can talk to Fedor,” Ginny said slowly, and her heart sank into her toes. “Maybe he’ll be willing to invest more.”

He would be, but it would come with a price.

“You’re not even married yet,” her father protested. “We can’t impose on him again. He’s already done so much.”

Fedor had originally planned to withhold all funds until after the wedding, but she made that a condition of her entering the deal: he had to help the business now. Her grandfather’s legacy wouldn’t last until she was officially Mrs. Barkov.

A sour taste filled her mouth, and it wasn’t from the coffee. Mrs. Barkov. That would soon be her reality. Speaking of that, she had an appointment with the wedding planner. She’d been putting it off as long as she could, hoping to convince Fedor to have a small, simple ceremony, but he insisted on the wedding of the century—a wedding that would be talked about for years to come.

She almost snorted thinking about it. Those were his words—he wanted to give her “the wedding of the century.” News flash for him: she couldn’t care less about a flashy wedding. But Fedor was under the impression that he could worm his way into polite society by dazzling them.

That was also part of their deal—she was supposed to be his ticket to the one thing money couldn’t buy—social acceptance. The Frazier family was established and respected, despite her father’s business gaffs.

She patted her father’s hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

He nodded and she held in her sigh. She wished he wouldn’t be so complacent. That was how the business got into this mess in the first place.

An hour later, she sat at a dress shop with Veronica, waiting while the wedding planner and the shop owner rushed around to pull dresses for her to try on. The planner was appalled when she learned that Ginny hadn’t picked out a dress yet, and she’d dropped everything to make an “emergency” appointment.

“You’d better not make me wear pink,” Veronica said, touching up her lipstick while looking in a compact.

“What’s wrong with pink?” Ginny asked. She hadn’t given any thought to the bridesmaids’ dresses, but suddenly she had an overwhelming urge for them to be the color of bubble gum.

Totally petty, but she didn’t care.

“Just don’t.”

“I don’t think we’re looking at bridesmaids’ dresses today, anyway.”

“Then why am I here?”

Ginny gritted her teeth, squelching the unkind thoughts that were running through her head. Even though she wasn’t looking forward to the wedding, she had hoped she and Veronica could share a sisterly experience. “I’m trying on wedding dresses. I thought it might be nice to have my sister’s opinion.”

“What’s the deal with you and Tony?”

Ginny blinked at the abrupt change of subject. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw you two talking at the race.” Veronica looked slyly at her. “You know, he’s still hot, maybe hotter, if I do say so myself.”

Ginny pinched the bridge of her nose. “You cheated on him while you were engaged. Surely you can’t think—”

“Oh, not me. You.”

“What?” Ginny sputtered. “That’s crazy. For starters, I’m engaged to Fedor. And secondly, he’s your ex-fiancé. Third—” She stopped talking. God, she sounded like a blubbering idiot. Tony wasn’t lying when he said she was a terrible liar. And she wasn’t even lying right now. Everything coming out of her mouth was true. “He just wanted to say hello,” she finished lamely.

Veronica gave Ginny the side-eye. “What a lucky coincidence that you ran into him. That’s what? Twice in two days?”

“How did you know he was at the ball?”

Veronica just smiled as the wedding coordinator and the shop owner hustled over, their arms full of dresses.

Ginny tried to focus on the yards and yards of white satin they were parading in front of her, but she couldn’t help but dart suspicious glances at her sister. What was she up to?