Kate tried to act normal around Julia as they worked, to mask the nervous energy that weighed her down. She was pretty sure that Julia hadn’t noticed a thing. Should’ve been an actress.

“This is going to be doable.” Julia looked up from her tablet. She shook her head, seeming a little amazed. “So, what do we have, officially?”

Kate opened her notepad. “Ten pieces of art. Box tickets to the Giants. Dinner with two Giant’s players. And your sailboat . . . but I still don’t think you should give that away.” Kate looked up at Julia.

Julia shrugged. “I can always buy a new one.”

Rich people. God bless them.

“So, do you have a boyfriend?”

Well, so much for keeping it professional. “I, uh, don’t have time to date. Every time I try the whole relationship thing, it doesn’t seem to last.” Kate perched her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands. She thought of the string of disasters that had plagued her after she’d signed up for an online matchmaker site a year ago. She hadn’t had sex or been on a date in fourteen long months. At what point does one reclaim their V-card?

But Kate kept telling herself that this was what she wanted—her new plan was to focus on her business and avoid men for a while.

“Was there anyone who ever really got to you?” Julia asked. She was clearly more open than her brother. Well, from what Kate knew about him, anyway. He was notoriously tightlipped. And didn’t that seem to add appeal for some women? The ones who were in it for the chase, to make the unattainable man theirs. Kate didn’t have the time or energy for that kind of mess.

But Michael Maddox wasn’t exactly the typical rich playboy. He wasn’t entitled. He was generous, but not for the sake of exposure. He was from humble origins, he’d served their country, he was a do-gooder and a genius beyond compare . . . but still totally off limits. Even if he wasn’t an infamous player, he was still her client. She needed to get the damn man out of her head.

She never dated clients, regardless of their numerous attempts. And now she just wasn’t dating anyone period. Her lack of a sex life had to explain why she was lusting after Michael and visualizing him in a tux—she was trying to tell herself that, at least.

She wondered how she’d survive another week without her body blushing every time he was around.

Julia snapped her fingers in front of Kate. “You okay? Hey, did I make you think about some guy?” She smirked.

Kate contemplated an appropriate response but didn’t have to come up with one. Instead, her phone rang. She reached into her purse and fished it out. She looked down at the screen and sighed. She still hadn’t spoken with her dad. A twinge of guilt poked at her stomach as she slid the phone back in her bag.

“Not going to answer?”

“Just my dad. I’ll call him later.” Kate fidgeted with her notepad and pen and attempted to refocus, but she found herself unable to slide the mask back on.

It was getting harder to silence the pain that was seeping into her body.

Today wasn’t just any normal day, after all.

* * *

“You’re here.”

Kate looked up at the cab driver and then out the window to the graveyard. “Could you wait here? I won’t be long.” She lifted the long-stemmed, red roses from her lap and opened the door.

“Sure,” he replied, turning up the volume so that Sinatra’s croon belted in her ears.

Kate exited the cab and began to wander through the maze of gravestones. “Where are you?”

Her breath caught in her throat when she finally found it.

Surprise flickered across her face at the sight of fresh white tulips nuzzled against the headstone.

Who visited you? Her eyebrows pinched together as she leaned down and rested the roses alongside the tulips.

“Hi, Mom.” She traced her fingers over the name Elizabeth and kissed her fingers before bringing them back to touch the cool, arched rock.

She studied the second date on the headstone. September 9^th.

Today. The day her mom had given birth to her.

“I love you, Mom,” she whispered.

* * *

“You look fantastic.” Kate slid into a circular booth in the VIP area of the club. It was a different nightclub than the one Kate had visited a few nights earlier.

Julia smoothed a hand over her short, black sequined dress, and smiled. “It’s my go-to. I love your dress, though. Super-hot. Glad my brother’s not here to see you in that. He has a weakness for gorgeous women, as you have probably heard.”

Kate almost choked on her Cosmo. “So, um, did Michael find a woman to auction off at the fundraiser?” Hm. That kind of sounds weird to say.

Julia reached for her drink. “Yeah. Thank God we found someone on such short notice. You ever heard of Jamie Landon?”

“She’s a model, right?” Kate wondered if she was one of the women on Michael’s laundry list of sultry New York models.

Julia nodded. “I hate her. Horrible bitch. Probably dated Michael, too.” She shrugged. “Should get a good price, though, which is all that matters.”

“I’m surprised he goes by Michael, even by you,” Kate found herself saying.

“He was always Mike when he was in the military, and I think it’s too hard for him to go by that name now. He’s different since he came home. A lot of people come back different.” Julia stared into her drink and paused. “I—I lost someone close to me, because of that. He didn’t die in the military—he died because he couldn’t handle being out of the military. He wound up drinking and died in a car wreck. I was only in college when it happened. Michael was still in the Marines. I think his death was what inspired Michael’s project. He wanted to set up a program that would help veterans find balance in the world as civilians.”

Kate leaned forward, listening to Julia with her complete attention, allowing the music to fade into white noise. “I’m so sorry.” She wasn’t sure what else to say. She had never been good at dealing with tragedy. Look at her own life.

“I’m sorry to be laying this on you.” Julia pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut. Then, with a shake of her head, she flashed her blue eyes open, and her normal calm exterior was back. “Come on. We should be celebrating.” She lifted her drink into the air. “Cheers to you defeating my brother.”

“Um. Okay. You sure you’re all right?”

“Of course.” She clinked her glass against Kate’s and tossed back the last of her drink. “Let’s get shots.”

Kate watched as Julia rose with perfect balance in her black strappy Manolos and headed toward the bar. Somehow, Kate couldn’t imagine the refined and sophisticated Julia doing shots. But after the emotional day Kate had suffered . . . why the hell not?

When Kate approached the bar, she found Julia engaged in conversation with a guy whose appearance was a little too pretty for her taste. His gel-spiked, coppery blonde hair and his waxed eyebrows screamed metrosexual. He was in khaki pants and a crisp, button-up top—Armani or something ostentatious enough to match his gold Rolex. Kate, of course, preferred a more rugged man. A man more like—don’t think his name.

Julia was leaning in toward him, her hand resting on his chest. Her eyes shifted from the man to Kate. “Kate, this is my friend James. James, this is Kate. She’s the miracle worker who managed to convince Michael to hold the fundraiser. I expect you’ll be there next weekend?”

James reached for Kate’s hand and plastered a smile on his face. “So nice to meet you,” he said with a smooth voice.

“Kate, James is an investor, like Michael. He has deep pockets, so be sure to woo him next weekend.”

“I don’t think she’ll have to try hard to woo me.” His hazel eyes stared deep into hers before wandering toward her cleavage.

Kate had the sudden desire to hide behind her hands. She was never one to wear revealing clothing, but the sapphire blue, strapless panel dress she had chosen to wear was a bit snug today.

“You feel like dancing?” he asked, reaching for her hand.

Kate looked to Julia, who encouraged her with a nod and smile. “What about our shots?”

“Here,” Julia said, handing her a shot of tequila that the bartender had placed behind her. They downed the gold liquid, and both winced. “Now go have fun. I’ll be out there soon.” Julia waved her away.

James led Kate through the crowd of men and women, who all looked like they had stepped out of a fashion magazine. But the dance floor was even more impressive than the people. It was surrounded by dozens upon dozens of gorgeous strands of crystal, which dangled in thick, glinting rows. She brushed against them as James reached for her waist and pulled her tight against him, his erection pressing thick and obvious against her thigh.

That was fast. Jesus. Down boy. She placed her hands on his chest, attempting to put some distance between them. She had no interest in grinding. She looked over at Julia standing by the bar.

The music became almost a dull silence as her eyes shifted to see Michael walking with long strides toward his sister at the bar. The mere sight of him made her body tense.

She kept her eyes on Michael as James moved them around on the dance floor, her body feeling as limp as a rag dolls. Michael folded his arms across his chest and cocked his head to the side, staring at his sister.

Julia began waving her phone in front of Michael before jabbing him in the chest with it. A moment later she started for the dance floor.

“Everything okay?” Kate asked, taking the chance to break free of James’s grasp.

“Yeah. I forgot I was supposed to be having dinner with my brother.” She rolled her eyes. “He tracked my phone to find me—he’s a bit overprotective.”

“Oh.” It’s kind of sweet he cared, Kate thought as she snuck another glimpse of Michael. His back was turned against them, and he was talking with the slim but chesty bartender. A strange pang of jealousy stabbed at her gut.

“James, I think I’m gonna grab a drink. Maybe you and Julia could dance?”

“Sure,” he responded, reaching for Julia’s waist.

Happy to have secured a rescue, Kate made her way to the bar. She pressed her hands against the somewhat sticky bar counter and waited for the male bartender to notice her. The bartender who had been speaking with Michael moments ago was now taking an order from someone else.

“You go dancing a lot?”

Kate shut her eyes for a brief moment. “Not as much as I’d like.” She turned toward the man who had infiltrated her dreams the past few nights. “You look different,” she remarked. An underdressed Michael was no less sexy than business-casual Michael. In fact, he looked even more appealing in jeans and a T-shirt. His tanned biceps swelled beneath the short sleeves, and she was dying to touch them.

Why do you have to be so sexy?

His eyes focused a touch too long on her glossy lips before he spoke. “We should dance. People know me here. I’m just thinking of your well-being. If you want to dance in peace, dance once with me.”

Was he kidding? Was this really his line? She folded her arms across her chest and squinted one eye in a teasing manner. “What if I don’t want other men to leave me alone?”

He tilted his head toward the dance floor and scoffed. “Come on.” He grabbed her hand and led her toward the masses.

She should have resisted him, and yet, she hadn’t found it inside herself to put up a fight.

Some of the men and women glanced their way as they passed, and she wondered who was more jealous—men wanting to be Michael or the women wanting to be Kate so they could be with the Man of Steel lookalike.

Kate glanced over at Julia and mouthed an apology to her—she didn’t want Julia to think she was hitting on her brother. Julia smiled back and continued dancing with James. She didn’t look mad. But the heated look James was directing toward Kate was somewhat unsettling.

Her heartbeat did a cowboy quickstep as Michael reached for her and held her as if he owned her. Somehow, having Michael’s rock hard body pressed against her was more than okay even though it shouldn’t have been.

He rested his hand on the small of her back, and her chest pressed to his.

There was a shift in the mood of the room as the music changed to a low tempo beat. The sound of the drums through the speakers thumped in her ears, matching the pounding of her heart.

Michael kept his eyes on hers as their bodies collided against each other in rhythmic movement to the music.

She breathed in his intoxicating smell, growing a little dizzy.

“You okay?” Michael pulled away.

How had he known she was stressed?

“Yeah, I just . . . you ever get the feeling that you’re being watched?” Her thoughts, scrambling, had landed on the only other thing on her mind—the creepy text she’d gotten the other day.

“I’m sure a lot of guys in here are watching you, Kate.” He reached for her waist in an almost protective manner.

“No, not like that. I mean . . . never mind. Sorry.” Her cheeks burst red, as bright as fireworks on the Fourth of July.

“Is someone bothering you?” His eyes narrowed, and he began scanning the room.

“What? Um . . . no.” She took a step back. “I should get going. My hotel’s not too far.”

“Come on, I’ll take you.” He placed his hand on her forearm. “There’s no way I’m letting you walk alone.” He shook his head. “No way.”

Kate stared at him, her eyes widening. “Relax. I don’t need a babysitter.” Or do I? The image from the text flashed into her mind again. But she was too pigheaded to take Michael up on his offer, despite her nerves. He removed his hand from her arm, and she felt a few degrees cooler without his touch. She resisted the urge to stay with him, and instead approached Julia. “I’m gonna get going. I’m tired, and there’s a lot to do tomorrow.”

Julia was dancing with someone new—Kate didn’t see James anywhere. She had no desire to say goodbye to him, anyway.

“Okay, well, thanks for coming out.” Julia air-kissed Kate on the cheek and Kate left the dance floor.

Michael caught her by the arm. “Please, don’t be stubborn.”

“Hey baby,” a cute blonde said to Michael, coming up at his side.

Seriously? Seeing the blonde reminded Kate of yet another reason why she should ignore the flare of desire that had wrapped its hold on her whenever she thought of him.

“I gotta go,” she said, turning her back on the scene. As she reached the door, Kate gave one last look at the club. She saw the blonde’s hands pressed against Michael’s chest, and Kate’s shoulders slumped forward slightly as she exhaled and left.

Two blocks later, Kate was analyzing a pair of street signs. “Shit,” she said to herself. She had walked the wrong direction. She began to backtrack toward the club, which was now on the way to the hotel, wishing she wasn’t wearing stilettos.

“Hey.”

She turned around to find James. She wanted to feel relieved that it was someone she knew, but somehow she didn’t. “Hi. You decide to leave early, too?” She gave him a polite smile. His eyes darkened, and he took a few steps closer to her. A little too close. She could smell the booze on his breath. Relax. He’s a friend of Julia’s.

“I was hoping you and I could get to know each other a little better.” He brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

His touch was too intimate for her. “Sure. We can talk at the fundraiser next weekend,” Kate offered.

“How about now?” he proposed, placing a hand on her hip.

Kate jerked backward. “I need to get going,” she said with a weak voice and wished she had channeled more oomph to her words at that moment.

“Come on—let’s have a drink together. My condo is a block away. I have a great view of the city that I’d love to show you.” He touched her face with the back of his hand, and she inhaled. “I won’t bite. I promise.” He leaned in closer, and she turned her head.

“I’m beat and just want to get back to my hotel.” She looked up and down the street, hoping to find a witness, but the sidewalks were empty. The nightclub, tucked away around the corner, was out of view.

“You should probably back off.”

Oh, thank God. Kate looked up at Michael. With crossed arms and tight lips, he glared at James.

James attempted to match Michael’s stance, folding his arms over his chest and tilting his chin up toward Michael, who stood a couple of inches taller. “Are you her keeper?”

“You need to go, man,” Michael demanded. “And I suggest you skip the party next weekend, as well,” he warned.

James looked at Kate and back at Michael. He rolled his eyes and stepped away. “See you around, sweetheart,” he said before walking off.

Kate tilted her head back and exhaled the breath she’d been holding, relieved that the stand-off was over. “Thanks. I guess I should’ve accepted your invitation to walk me home.” If only so I wouldn’t get lost.

He nodded in agreement, and she pointed down the street. “I’m that way.” She looked up at the sliver of the moon in the sky as they walked. “So, um, who was that girl at the club?” She knew she shouldn’t ask, but she was curious.

“No one important,” he responded, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Thanks again for agreeing to host the party next weekend. You made your sister over-the-top happy.”

He remained silent and kept his eyes on the street.

“This is me.” She stopped outside the double door entry of her hotel and looked up at him. “Would you like a drink? It’s the least I can do to thank you for rescuing me.” What am I thinking? She couldn’t let him in her hotel room—there was a bed in there.

“Sure.”

Although he had agreed, Kate felt like Michael was almost . . . nervous. His jaw ticked, and his chest inflated a little beneath his shirt. When she saw how his eyes swept down her body and up again, she realized it wasn’t nerves, but something else lurking beneath his somewhat cold exterior.

When they entered her suite, and she remembered the bed was in another room, the knot in her stomach weakened. Why didn’t she trust herself? It wasn’t like she’d throw caution to the wind.

She slipped off her uncomfortable heels, pulled her hair in a ponytail, and approached the bar by the window.

Michael looked around the room, which wasn’t as lavish as might be expected. The furniture was minimalistic, and the room was almost boring, decorated in various shades of tan. The only thing that brightened the room was a vase of flowers on the coffee table. “Let me help,” he offered.

“Merlot okay?” she asked.

“Sure.” Her arm brushed against his as she moved away from the bar. The slightest contact had her body tensing.

She took a seat on a cream-colored loveseat and crossed her legs at her ankles. She stared at Michael as he poured the wine, appreciating how good his backside looked in well-worn blue jeans.

When he turned toward her, armed with two glasses of wine, her heart slammed against her ribcage. He stood still for a moment, just holding the glasses.

“You okay?” he asked after a moment.

“Yeah.”

He came next to her and sat down, offering her the glass.

She raised it in the air, wishing the loveseat was a little bigger. She was far too close to him. “Um . . . cheers.” The man may have been a notorious womanizer, but she was beginning to wonder if it wasn’t his fault. Maybe women just threw themselves at him.

She’d never had a one-night stand before, but she had a list of men that she was willing to break her no casual sex rule for: Bradley Cooper, Brett Dalton, and Henry Cavill. Since Michael looked like Henry, maybe even better if that were possible, did that mean she could—

“You think you’ll be able to pull off this party by next Saturday?” Michael interrupted her thoughts, which was probably a good thing.

“I hope. Your sister is counting on me.” She looked down at the scarlet colored wine. “So, do you like being a venture capitalist? Do you miss running your old business?”

He set his glass down and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m involved in running many businesses now. It’s exciting bringing someone’s idea or product to life. I never had any intention of creating my own company when I got out of the military, you know. I had ideas—a lot of ideas, and I needed help.” He crossed his ankle over his knee.

“You didn’t want to become rich?”

His lips curved at the edges, offering her an almost-smile. “I didn’t plan on selling my inventions to the military. I would’ve given them away. But to get my ideas from, well, an idea to a product, I needed capital. And investors want to make a profit.” He reached for his glass and took a sip of the Merlot. “After some time, I realized I couldn’t morally justify selling my inventions anymore. They were saving lives. Catching terrorists. The original investors offered me a chance to sell my share of the company to them.”

“And that’s when you decided to use the money to help veterans?”

He nodded.

“You’re amazing.” She didn’t mean to say that aloud.

He cocked his head to the side, and this time, a full smile slipped to his lips. “That’s what I think about you.”

She took in a breath, and her shoulders jerked at the sound of her phone beeping, alerting her to a text. “Sorry. Give me a second.” It had to be important if someone was trying to reach her so late.

She rose to her feet and walked over to her purse, which she had chucked by the door.

“Everything okay?” he asked as she dropped the phone back into her bag, her hand trembling.

“Um. Yeah, I’m fine,” she lied. “It’s—it’s actually my birthday today, and I got a birthday message is all.”

“Really? Happy Birthday. Julia didn’t tell me.”

“She doesn’t know.” Kate walked toward the wall of windows by the bar and folded her arms.

“You sure you’re okay?” He stood up and approached her, wine still in hand. He touched her shoulder, guiding her to face him, before tilting her chin up.

She prayed he wouldn’t see her pain. “I don’t ever celebrate my birthday,” she admitted.

“You don’t like getting old, huh?” He released his hand from her face and tipped the remaining contents of his wine glass into his mouth. “How old are you today?”

“Twenty-seven.”

“Well, you should at least continue celebrating your birthday until you get to be as old as me.”

“And you are?” She already knew the answer since she’d done her research on the company before visiting, but she didn’t want to come across as some creepy stalker.

“Thirty-three.”

“Oh—you’re ancient.”

He grinned at her and glanced toward the windows. “What’s going on? For real?”

She brought her hand to her lip and bit her thumb. Was she going to tell him? Somehow, she couldn’t find it in her to stop.

“My mom died giving birth to me, so I feel like I’d be celebrating her death if I partied on my birthday.” She looked back out the window, not wanting to see pity, which was the normal response delivered to her upon hearing her story.

After a moment, he spoke, his voice soft. “What happened?”

Where do I even begin? She shook her head, and her eyebrows quirked in surprise—who would have thought, three days ago, that she would be opening up to Michael Maddox?

“My mom was a student at UNCC. She got pregnant her junior year. She was due in October, but apparently, some problems developed, and they had to do an emergency C-Section. She lost a lot of blood. Too much.” She cleared her throat and attempted to block the threat of tears. “My dad doesn’t want me in Charlotte. He hates this place because of what happened to my mom.”

“I can understand that.” He walked away from her and sat back down on the couch.

Kate turned around and looked at Michael. He was leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees with his eyes on the floor. He seemed . . . different.

“I was ten years old before he brought me to Charlotte. I never saw him cry until that day.”

Michael looked up at her. “It’s hard losing someone.”

Kate studied Michael for a beat. His mood had definitely changed. The warmth that had radiated from him before when he had heated her body with his gaze was gone.

He was stone cold—steel.

“I should get some sleep,” she whispered, feeling too heavy to speak anymore.

“You gonna be okay?” He stood up and moved toward her, and touched her cheek with the back of his hand. The soft gesture didn’t match the now dark look in his eyes.

“You don’t need to worry about me. You don’t know me.”

The muscle in his jaw strained as he withdrew his hand from her face.

She moved back to the windows and looked out, arms crossed. “Goodnight, Michael,” she said as their eyes met in the reflection of the glass.

“Happy Birthday.” He paused in the open doorway for a moment, maybe he was unsure if he should leave her, but she sighed a breath of relief once the door closed.

And her eyes became blurred by her tears as she sank to her knees.