And before I knew it, the door was swinging open—revealing Grant Devlin in nothing but a pair of black boxers.

Damn. My eyes involuntarily traveled the length of his body, ripped and tanned and glistening with sweat as if he had just been working out, or maybe tossing and turning in bed, alone or with company. Those boxers clung to his hips with just a tantalizing bit of give, the light dusting of hair thinning to just a shadow above the elastic band. He was close enough that I could have just reached out and—

His eyes narrowed as if he could read my thoughts, and he ran a hand through his ruffled brown hair as if to draw my attention to its tousled state, and further fire my jealousy.

I felt myself go weak at the knees just looking at him. Oh, that bastard. How could he still be so sexy to me after everything he had put me through?

“Couldn’t get enough after all?” Grant drawled lazily, propping himself in the doorway at an angle that both effectively barred my entry and showed off his biceps and pecs to drool-inducing advantage.

Focus, Lacey!

I squared my shoulders and barreled forward, the shock of my advance knocking him out of the way despite his strength advantage. I walked rapidly down the hall; it was a lot easier to keep my resolve when I didn’t have to look him in the face. “We need to talk.”

“My, my, you are eager,” Grant snapped from behind me, abandoning all pretense of languor. I heard the door slam shut in anger. “Has it been a whole hour for you?”

I whirled on him, anger flaring. “Will you cut the bullshit for once? We’re in real trouble!”

Something about my tone, or maybe my eyes, must have alerted him that I really meant what I was saying, because he took a step back and raised his hands defensively before lowering them and asking, slowly, “What kind of trouble?”

I was so surprised by his capitulation that it took me a few seconds to find the words. Only when his eyebrow began to rise did I blurt out: “Portia is engineering a hostile takeover!”

I led us into the living room and told him everything I had observed at Rama, pulling up the information on James C. Brandt on Kate’s phone—sending out a quick mental thank-you to her for letting me borrow it—to show him the long and storied history his hedge fund had of partnering with an ally within the company, and using that person to divide loyalties and smooth the way for his takeover. As I talked, Grant’s face grew more and more worried, but the skepticism failed to fade entirely from his eyes.

“Why on Earth would Portia do such a thing?” he said when I finally ran out of breath. He ran a hand through his hair, looking baffled, uncertain, and concerned at the same time. And perhaps a little hurt? “She has everything she needs in her current position, and I’ve responded to all her concerns as best I can. What could she stand to gain?”

“I can’t say, Grant, I’m not in her head,” I said wearily, sinking down onto the couch. I looked up at him earnestly. “But you saw how she was acting in the meeting. All that sudden concern over costs? Making allies beforehand to try to ambush and pressure you? Playing nicey-nice to keep the conversation rolling after you said things that would have gotten your head bitten off any other time? Tell me you’re not a little bit weirded out about all that.”

Grant chewed his lip, looking off into the distance. “It was strange, I admit. I didn’t pay the attention to it at the time that I could have, because…”

I waited for him to finish the sentence, but he let it trail off and began to pace around instead.

I jumped back in. “Is there anything else? Has anything else she’s done lately pinged your radar?”

Grant paused thoughtfully. “She stopped by after you…left. She was acting very concerned, but I didn’t think—and later she was asking questions, lots of questions, but I thought she was just trying to distract me from…And I saw her talking to my secretary when I know she can’t stand the woman; she could have been pumping her for information. I didn’t think anything of it at the time because…”

He trailed off again.

“There’s a shareholder meeting at the end of the week,” I said when it became clear that he was going to leave that sentence dangling there. “If Portia’s going to make a play, she’ll have to put it to a vote there.”

“Yes,” he said absently, and echoed, “If she’s going to make a play…”

And that was what it came down to, I guess. If he believed me that she was going to do it. “Do you believe me?” I asked.

“The evidence is…mounting,” he said, but he still looked distracted.

“Well, then, what are we going to do?”

“I suppose—” Grant began musingly, and for a whole second my heart soared with the giddy hope that he was going to approach this problem like a reasonable human being. But then his eyes narrowed in suspicion, and his gaze swung back to me, accusing. “Why do you even care?”

“Excuse me?!” I spluttered.

“You’ve made it quite clear that you don’t give a fuck about the company,” he snapped, his red-hot anger making his accent crisp and near-British as he bit off the words. “Or me, for that matter. So why the show? Why the mad dash to my apartment to save the day? Perhaps you’re hoping for a nice little bonus—or maybe you’re allied with Portia and this is a feint on your part, to throw me off guard?”

“Is that what you really think?” My voice broke on the last word, the hurt catching in my throat. My heart felt as if it were being pierced with thousands of shards of razor-sharp glass. “Is that what you really believe I’m capable of?”

“I know exactly what you’re capable of,” Grant said, stalking towards me. His eyes flashed. “I’ve learned that you’re capable of more coldness and deceit than I thought a mortal woman could be. I learned that, much to my regret, on what was supposed to be our wedding day.”

“How dare you!” I exploded, leaping to my feet. I slapped him across his face, my vision blurring with tears. “How dare you say that I don’t care!? The whole reason I didn’t marry you is that I care too much!” My voice cracked further and the tears fell faster as the words I’d sworn I’d never say spilled from my mouth. “Every time I looked at you it stabbed me in the heart, how much I cared and how much you didn’t—”

“Lacey—” he started, but I couldn’t stop blabbing.

“—because it was all just an act to you! It was all about company PR! How could I stay when I knew you didn’t l—”

Grant closed the space between us with a single stride and clasped my shoulders, yanking me into his arms and devouring my lips in a passionate kiss.

My eyes slid closed automatically at the overload of sensation, and before I knew it I was kissing him back, savoring the taste of his mouth. The scent of him filled me as I melted into his arms, his strong hands holding me tightly to him as we wound around each other.

We kissed as though it were about to be outlawed, we kissed as though we could breathe each other’s essence into ourselves, we kissed as though kissing were the only thing keeping the world from ending.

Our lips broke apart and I almost staggered, dazed. Grant’s eyes gleamed with desire and he leaned in to claim me once more. Somewhere through the fog of lust in my brain a small siren of responsibility blared, and I managed to get out: “But, the company—”

Then Grant kissed me again with an urgency like fire, and I forgot anything but him.

“The company can wait for now,” he murmured as we broke apart, a devilish smile playing upon his lips. “But I can’t wait one moment longer for you.”

* * *

He guided me to his bedroom, laying down next to me as he kissed slowly down my neck. He teased and nipped around the collar of my silk shirt, slowly pulling it off over my head. He looked at my breasts in awe, and then buried his face between them. He growled. I tried to remember how breathing worked.

Sliding my skirt up my legs, he slipped a finger under the lace of my panties, massaging me in a delicious and tantalizing rhythm. Oh how I wanted him inside me again, and I bucked against his fingers as he stroked me. So good. So right. Wait.

Was this a good idea? Maybe it wasn’t a good idea—maybe—his lips trailed kisses back up my neck, his mouth claiming mine again, and oh yes, it was. It was a very, very good idea. Consequences be damned. I fisted the bed sheet in my hands, writhing beneath him.

“Come for me, Lacey,” he demanded, sliding in his finger, first one, then two, and then the third, stretching me, still not quite filling me up, oh God, I needed him to—

His questing fingers found my g-spot, and I moaned as he intensified the pressure. Using his thumb to tease my clit, I felt myself getting closer to the edge. His strong fingers continued thrusting into me, perfectly, and the whole world went a blinding white as red-hot heat rippled outward from my core, leaving me helpless as an epic orgasm tore through my body like an earthquake.

I slowly came back to myself, feeling Grant settling himself on top of me, the lovely weight and heft of him, the strength of his arms and legs, the warmth of his skin.

I stroked his hair, his cheek, the strong line of his jaw, before taking his hand and pulling his arm around mine. He squeezed me tight.

The cool night air danced in through an open window and ruffled the silk sheets, but I was warm in Grant’s embrace all night long. And as far as I was concerned, there wasn’t a single place in the world I’d rather be.