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Chapter 1

Kaye

Morning dew covered the rose bushes that grew along the sidewalk. With a skip in my step, I tried my best to break the melancholy mood that struck me most mornings as I went to work.

It always made me just a little bit sad to go to work.

Not because of the patients. I knew I was one of the rare people who didn’t mind working with people who needed hospice care. Most of the other nurses did it and did it well because it was their job, but there was always this air of resentment. Hopefully not about the patients, but about each other.

It’s never easy to know that every single one of your patients will die under your care. Terminal diseases would take them all, no matter how well you cared for them. It took a particular kind of person to withstand all that comes with facing death head on and helping others accept their fate.

For me, though, I found it fascinating to interact with people in their last days. Not only did I get a chance to help them and to ease their pain and suffering, but I got to hear the stories these people had in their heads. The times they’d lived through and all of the things they’d said and done—it was all there. With just a little bit of patience, these human beings had the most interesting things to say and insights to give from another time.

Theodore Black, however, had become my favorite patient, by far. It was sort of funny, but I could still remember how terrified I had been to meet him, since he was something of a local legend. He was the epitome of the local boy who had succeeded in spite of everything that was stacked against him.

He’d ended up being nothing but a teddy bear. An old, almost deaf teddy bear, to be sure, but one without a mean bone in his body. A sweet, gruff old man who had won my heart almost immediately.

So it wasn’t him. He wasn’t the reason I’d been sad to come to work. Or not the whole reason. I was sad that I was going to lose him, but I knew I’d be richer for having known him.

The reason I was sad was that, in all of the time I’d been going to see Theodore—as he had insisted I call him—I had never, not once, seen anyone with him who wasn’t a health care professional. No friends—not even any family.

This man was the richest person I knew, but that certainly hadn’t made him happy. And that was what really depressed me. It made me almost sick to my stomach when I thought about it.

No one should have to die alone, and if I were the only person who could be with him in the end, then I would be. Months ago, I’d made the request to be transferred full-time to Theodore, and I had never been given cause to regret it.

“Kaye?”

Theodore had been in a particularly sour mood when I first became his nurse, and it hadn’t taken me long to figure out he mostly wanted to be left alone. Upon entering his home, I often remained quiet and unobtrusive until he called for me. To find him calling for me as soon as I walked in was a novelty.

The cancer inside him was eating him alive, and he had become too weak to do most things for himself. He was once such a strong man, then cancer had turned him into an invalid who had to be diapered, spoon-fed baby food, and bathed by his caretakers. I blinked at the thought, trying to push back my tears.

The last thing a nurse should do was cry for their patients. Not in front of them, anyway. Though I knew when the inevitable happened, I would cry plenty. I had been doing this since I was twenty-two. Four years ago I started my career as a nurse for hospice care. During that time, I had seen far too many incredible people die.

Theodore was something else, though. I knew his death would be even worse than any of the others I’d nursed until they passed. But I wasn’t going to let that get in the way of giving him the best possible care. So I pasted a smile on my face and bustled into the room.

“Hello, Theodore! Are you hungry?” I didn’t really expect the answer to be ‘yes,’ though I was hoping it would be. In the year I’d been nursing him in his home, he’d never been a huge eater, but it had gotten to the point lately that he was eating almost nothing.

He looked at me, his dark eyes seeming to burn as they ran me over from head to toe. He was taking my measure, I knew, and I looked at him right back, wanting to seem like I was the sort of person he could trust.

“Kaye,” he repeated my name, and I fought the urge to bite my lip. He clearly wanted to know if he could count on me, and I didn’t want to show any sign of indecision.

“I’m here, Theodore,” I murmured, letting my voice become a soothing balm. “What is it? What can I do to help?”

For a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to do it—that his old habits of secrecy would go with him to the grave. I knew who he was—a big-deal businessman who had made a fortune and who had had two different wives try to take that fortune from him. I knew that only because it was pretty much common knowledge in Portland, though, not because he had ever spoken such things to me himself.

He had never spoken much about his past. The things I did know mostly came second hand.

His eyes had once been blue, from the photos I’d seen around his opulent home. They’d turned to such a pale color in his old age. Those pale eyes drooped at the outer edges. His lips quivered with the energy it took just for him to speak. “I need you to do something for me.”

I kept my smile firmly in place. I didn’t let it widen, no matter how much I wanted to. He’d finally asked for a favor. Before now, he wouldn’t have let himself be vulnerable like that.

“Anything.” I couldn’t think of a single thing he would ask for that I wouldn’t be willing to give him.

One hand pulled up from his side. A long, bone-thin finger pointed across the room. I followed the direction and saw he was gesturing to the landline telephone that sat on the dresser. “I need you to dial a number for me.”

My eyebrows wanted to rise, but I kept them schooled carefully. This was a big deal. He’d never asked me to make a phone call before, but I couldn’t act like it was strange or it could alienate him.

Though a knot had formed in my throat as emotion threatened to take me over, I managed a smooth tone. “Of course.”

Just treat it as routine.

When I went to the phone, I found it had a very long cord. I took it over to sit by his bed. It was one of those old models, with the curled cord that always ended up tangled. Picking it up, I half listened to the dial tone. I stayed silent, somehow sensing that, whatever happened, it was going to be a big deal. I was going to find out something about this man’s life and I didn’t want to do anything to derail it. I didn’t want him to change his mind about letting me help him this little bit he was finally allowing.

I waited. The silence stretched on, and I turned my gaze toward Theodore. He didn’t look back at me, apparently too fixated on his own wasted hands resting on his comforter, which was far thicker than most people would need with the heat of the summer lingering on into September. He was always cold though.

Gently, I dropped the phone back into the cradle, and he turned his eyes on me. “What are you doing? I need you to call someone.”

He had always been courteous to me, even when he was in massive pain from the cancer that was eating at him. The fact that he wasn’t now meant this was even more serious than I’d thought.

All in a rush, the digits of the phone number burst out of him. “Five, five, five, six, three, one, twenty-four hundred.”

It might actually have been one of the more courageous things I had ever seen, watching this scared, sick old man trust me enough to share his life with me. It wasn’t something he’d done much of in his life. I knew that very well.

It was a good thing I had been paying attention. I was able to pick the phone up again and dial the numbers before I forgot them all. Breathless, I handed the phone to him, then tried to give him some space. I tried to act as if I wasn’t eavesdropping, though to be honest, I totally was.

Theodore didn’t ask me to leave, though, and that meant a lot to me too. It was all more trust than I thought I deserved, but I couldn’t help but be deeply honored by the whole thing.

I could hear the phone as he clasped it in his shaking hand. I heard it ring once, twice, a third time, and then the line abruptly went to voicemail. I heard a strong, confident, deeply masculine voice pick up, but there was a canned quality to it that let me know it was a recording.

I couldn’t hear the exact words, but I could tell from Theodore’s expression—too carefully neutral to be anything but artificial—that he was deeply hurt.

His hand shook as he placed the phone back into the cradle. “He never answers.” No one who wasn’t looking right into his eyes would be able to tell how much this had hurt him.

“Who?” I dared to ask. It was rude, and I was probably pushing the bonds of our friendship just a little bit too much. But there was no way I could keep that one word to myself. It was more than I had in me.

Maybe he’d been waiting for me to ask, though. He certainly showed no signs of hesitation in answering me. “My grandson. My only grandson.” His voice did a strange thing. It didn’t quite break—he was too strong for that—but it dipped down a little lower. Subtle. Not the sort of thing that I would have noticed if I hadn’t been paying strict attention.

My heart clenched in my chest and I had this sudden feeling like I’d been drenched with ice water. Not on the outside, though. On the inside, so that it froze me more surely and deeply. My heart broke for this poor, strong man, so alone and still so brave.

I started to dislike this grandson immediately. I didn’t know what had happened between them and I didn’t really care, honestly. Nothing could excuse this man, whoever he was, from ignoring his dying grandfather.

I had to do something to curtail the hurt the poor man was enduring. “Maybe he just wasn’t home.” I had to try to cheer the poor guy up, but also wanted to be fair to this grandson. I didn’t know the man, after all. I was tempted to judge him, but what did I know?

“That’s his cell phone. He never answers it.” Theodore let out a soft sigh, one I was sure I wasn’t supposed to hear. “Not for me, anyway.”

Just like that, the dislike was back. Or something like dislike, anyway. The situation must be pretty grim when a man could ignore his grandfather like this. I couldn’t even imagine doing such a thing.

“I’ve tried calling so many times,” he murmured, his voice even smaller than it had been before. There was a brief moment of silence between us, and when he spoke again, his voice was stronger.

“I’d like some water, Kaye, if you don’t mind,” he said, and I smiled a little, though my heart was breaking for the man. He was always so polite, even though he didn’t have to be. A bit cold and remote, but always a gentleman.

“Of course.” I kept my voice as cheerful as I could as I went off to get him his water.

Damn that grandson of his. The fool better wake up and smell the coffee.

He was Theodore’s only heir. Theodore might decide to leave it all to charities or something if his grandson didn’t eventually contact him.

Seeing as how the man never saw fit to make a visit to his dying grandfather, maybe the riches should go to charity. At least then the money would be appreciated.

David

When the phone rang, I didn’t have any idea who it could be at first.

I should have. My grandfather had always been a stubborn man, and it had been him trying to reach me for years—years of him calling at least every month. Over the past year, it had been more like once a week, if not twice.

Not once had I answered. It had been twelve years since the last time I’d laid eyes on my grandfather or even heard his voice. Twelve years that I’d been utterly unable to make myself face the one and only member of my family who was still alive.

When my mother had taken off on us when I was only five, life had truly sucked. It had been okay, though, eventually. I’d been able to get through it because I still had my father, and the two of us had gotten through just fine.

Maybe my mother leaving hadn’t left me entirely without scars. I didn’t trust women from that day, and though I’d had lovers and even relationships, none of them had lasted. At the age of thirty, I had no desire to marry. Why bother when whoever I married would just leave me anyway?

Everyone left me eventually, anyway.

I’d been seventeen when my father had been in the car accident that had taken him from me. It was a drunk driver. The guy had plowed into my father going at least forty miles above the speed limit. They said my dad hadn’t suffered at all and that his death would have been instant.

Then it was just me and I thought it was probably better that way. My father had started a tech company, and I had taken it over after his death. I couldn’t do much with it at first, but once I’d made it through college, that was a different story.

I didn’t need anyone. Why count on someone and then have them leave you? There was no point. I had friends, of course, but no one who I was super close to, and I liked it that way.

I would never give anyone that sort of power over me.

Never.

So that’s why I let the call from my grandfather go to voicemail each and every single time. The last time that I had seen him was at my father’s funeral, twelve years ago. It had hurt to watch him. He was basically an older version of my dad, right down to the tone of his voice and the subtle hint of humor in his dark blue eyes.

After all this time, I had no idea why he would be calling me. I kept expecting him to give up and I thought that might be best for everyone involved. He needed to not expect anything from me.

Or, maybe more to the point, I needed to not expect anything more from him. One thing I’d learned about people is that, whether they wanted to or not, they left you.

So I watched as his number flashed on my call display screen. ‘Grandpa,’ it said, as though I didn’t already know that. As though I hadn’t memorized every digit of that phone number.

And, like always, it was nothing but a reminder of what I was missing.

I’d built a life by myself. Grandpa had made himself rich with lumber, but Dad had never been happy with accepting the family fortune without doing anything to earn it. Neither had I.

Black Technology had been our answer to that, and what my dad had started, I had continued on in a way that had honestly surprised even me. The men of my family, it turned out, had a knack for business—for making money.

As I watched my phone’s lit screen, my fingers itched. What would happen if I did pick it up? By now, my grandpa must not expect that. Would it shock him to hear my voice?

That was almost a good enough reason for me to do it. Almost. There was an impish side of me that would enjoy surprising the man, but at the same time, what would happen if I did?

It was too easy to imagine. My grandpa would doubtless be shocked. There could be no way, after twelve years, that he would expect me to do it. I’d get maybe as much as ten seconds of shocked silence.

And then what?

Well, then the questions would start. The recriminations. The reminders that the old man was all I had left and that we had to stick together. My grandfather had never been the type of man to hold back when he had something to say.

The hell of it was, I would deserve it. I was the one who had cut off contact. My reasons for doing it, I thought, were sound enough. But even I knew that I could have said something—given some sort of explanation to the old man who was my only family.

He had kept in contact as much as I had let him. There had always been a card at Christmas and another at my birthday. Every year I expected him to give up, but I guess the Black men had always had a bit of a stubborn streak.

It would be nice to hear his voice.

My phone stopped buzzing, and I let out a soft sigh—a breath I hadn’t even been aware I was holding. I’d missed the chance. It was too late. Maybe this was even the last time grandpa would try to call. There had to be a last time, right? Sooner or later, he would give up.

Or …

No. The old man was immortal, like the mountains themselves. I wouldn’t think about him dying. But surely enough was enough. I’d been pushing him away for so long, and even someone as stubborn as he was had to give up at some point.

For just a moment, I had the almost overwhelming urge to call him back. To tell him …what? That I was sorry, maybe. Sorry for protecting myself. Sorry that the months kept on going by, and that each and every time he called I told myself I’d answer the next one.

Next time, maybe. If there was a next time. Lately, the urge to take the call had been getting stronger and stronger, and it nagged at me more too.

Once, it had been easy for me to glance at my screen and then go right back to work. There had been so much to do, after all. Now, the company almost ran itself, and with my thirtieth birthday coming up in a few days, I was starting to have the sense that I should accept the gestures the man kept extending to me.

My birthday.

Of course. That was it. On my thirtieth birthday, my grandfather would call again. I knew he would. He always did. On that day, I would take the call, and I would accept anything he wanted to say to me. That was only three days away, and it would give me some time to prepare myself for whatever happened.

Hell, what did I know? There was a decent chance he just wanted to tell me off for ignoring him for so long. So be it. It was sort of ridiculous that I was hiding from him, or that I had done so for so long.

Anyway, I’d deserve it. I’d let time get away from me. Even now, I was a little bit anxious about the idea of speaking to him. Okay, in other words, I was downright terrified.

It was stupid, though. Stupid to be so scared. Stupid to let the fear keep on paralyzing me. I didn’t have to be close to him or anything. I would talk to him, I promised myself.

Somehow, that promise felt good. It felt like the right thing to do. There was even still the urge to call him right then and there, but no. I needed the time to psych myself up for it.

Just a few more days and I would hear the voice that was so much like my father’s that I had turned around at my dad’s funeral, sure he was the one who was talking. It had felt, just for a second, like my dad was somehow miraculously not in the ground.

It had felt like a betrayal when I had seen that it wasn’t my father, but my father’s father who had spoken. So, yes, I argued with myself, I did need time to prepare myself. What were a few more days, when measured against the twelve years that had already gone by?

Somehow, that decision didn’t feel nearly as good. It sat like a hard lump in the pit of my stomach, telling me maybe there wasn’t time.

Which was ridiculous, of course. If my grandfather had truly had something important to say, he could have said it to my answering machine. I had always counted on that. That if there were an emergency, I would know because grandpa wouldn’t just hang up. He would leave a message.

Call him.

The two words echoed through my head and I frowned. Maybe I should just get it over with. Like ripping a bandage off. Swift and painful as hell, yes, but at least it would be over.

I almost jumped out of my chair when the phone started to ring again.

If it was him, I would answer. If he called back twice in a row, that would be what did it. That would mean he really, really wanted to talk to me and maybe I should listen.

My whole body tensed up as I slowly, slowly, let my eyes drift down to my screen. Did I hope it was him or not? Even I couldn’t really tell.

“Oh my God,” I whispered as my eyes finally rested on the lit-up screen. The number was familiar, but it was Brent, my best friend and partner in crime at Black Tech.

All of the air left my lungs, leaving me feeling curiously drained. There was no question about not answering this call, though, and I picked it up without hesitation. Even so, with how long it had taken me to muster up enough courage to look at my phone, I was sure I’d gotten it right before it went to my voicemail.

“David, what the hell? Do you not check your work emails anymore?” Brent sounded peeved, and I had to hold back a slight sigh. I was sure I was letting everyone down and it sort of pissed me off.

“It’s not work hours,” I snapped back, but Brent didn’t even really seem to be listening to me. He was the numbers guy, the one who made sure our little company kept growing, and he clearly had something to say on the matter.

“These Q3 results aren’t looking too good. If we’re going to close out the year where we need to be, we’re going to need to make some changes.”

Sighing, I transferred the phone to my left hand and rubbed at the bridge of my nose with the right. I knew Brent would be able to handle it. He was much better at this sort of thing than I was.

Still, it was my job to listen, so I settled down to do what needed to be done. Three days would be soon enough to talk to my grandfather.

Wouldn’t it?

Chapter 2

Kaye

After the phone call that went unanswered, it was like Theodore gave up. Like he’d been holding on to try to talk to his grandson, and when that didn’t happen, he just stopped wanting to try to live at all.

He lasted one more night and one more morning. He’d spent the whole of that morning closeted with his lawyer, which only added to the nagging feeling I had about him not caring anymore.

It had all happened too fast for me to believe it was truly a coincidence. The day Theodore had tried to call his grandson, he’d been an old, sick man. The next day, he’d been dying and putting his affairs in order.

The skies were gray when I went to his home that morning. Not a bird chirped, not a butterfly flew, and it had my mind going in a bad direction.

I’d been through this same thing too many times. It was as if death lingered in the space, waiting to take the sickly person to the other side.

It was both a happy and sad time. Happy because there would be no more suffering—Theodore would finally be at peace—and sad because he would be missed. I already missed him.

Fighting back the tears, I knew I had to be strong. No nurse would sit by their patient’s bedside, weeping as they left this world. We were there to be supportive and to give them help in letting it all go and allowing death to come and take them out of that body that gave them so much pain and anguish. The suffering would be no more. There would only be peace where they were going.

I believed it too. With all of my heart, I did.

I wasn’t a religious person, but I was spiritual. I was a true believer that we all go on. Death isn’t the end of us—only the end of our Earthly body.

With all that faith, it still took a piece of me when my patients left us all behind. Theodore would take more than a piece of me. He’d take a chunk.

I was all the man had. No family would be there to say their goodbyes to him. Only I would be there. Bittersweet though it was, I didn’t know if I was truly prepared for that day.

The door squeaked as I pulled it open. It had never squeaked once since I’d started working there. The house was aware of what was happening. I’d felt it all too often—how the houses would feel when a person passed within their walls. Like a scar, it would permanently affect the home.

I ran my hand over the wall as I walked inside. “You’ll be okay.”

Some people thought I was nuts with how I thought. I didn’t care. I felt it right down to my core. A person leaves their mark on a place. And Theodore had built that home, then lived in it for decades. He was a part of that place, and it knew it.

Peeking in on him, I saw his withered body barely breathing as he lay in the hospital bed. The head of the bed had been inclined to help him breathe. It wasn’t doing much for him. I went to his side and sat silently in the chair next to the bed. I didn’t want to disturb him at all.

Perhaps he was dreaming of his younger days. I’d hate to interrupt that. For a few hours, I just sat by and listened to his slow breathing and stayed quiet, letting him take all the time he needed in peace.

I was there when it happened. He’d called out to me, his voice barely a rasp.

“Kaye?”

He seemed to have aged ten years and lost twenty pounds overnight and his skin was pale and loose, his eyes finally losing their sparkle.

I’d taken his hand. “Theodore, I’m here.”

His eyes barely opened as he looked up at me. “Kaye.” For a long time, we stayed like that, him lying in bed and me sitting beside it and holding his hand like I could somehow keep him with me.

“It’s all going to be okay, Theodore.” The urge to cry was always right there, but I held those tears back. I had to stay strong for the man.

He didn’t ask for anything. He was utterly silent until I felt his fingers gripping mine suddenly—frantically. “Tell him I’m sorry.”

Moments later, before I could so much as frame the question to ask whom he wanted me to tell that to, he was gone. I didn’t really need to ask, though. There was really only one ‘him’ it could be.

His grandson.

The man who had, less than a day before, rejected the last attempt of a dying old man to reach him.

The whole situation was so terribly sad, so tragic, and tears leaked down my cheeks as I did what I needed to do.

The funeral was a few days after, and I’d dried my tears before then. I didn’t always go to the funerals of my clients. Sometimes I got the sense from the family they didn’t think that would be entirely appropriate. Of course I would respect their wishes.

In this case, though, the only family was a man I’d never met—a man I wasn’t sure I liked. David Black was not my most favorite person in the world. Though I tried to keep an open mind about most people, in his case, I was willing to make an exception.

What possible excuse could there be for ignoring a man and letting him die alone?

The sadness had been replaced by a fair bit of anger, and I let that energy carry me through what I knew would be a terrible day.

I wasn’t looking forward to the funeral, but it was, at least, a chance to say goodbye to someone I had cared for a great deal. The day was overcast and showers seemed sure to happen. Most had umbrellas at their side to make sure their black funeral clothes wouldn’t be ruined by the drops that would surely come from the sky at any moment.

After parking my car, I went inside. It wasn’t a large crowd—I knew it wouldn’t be. Theodore lay in a casket made out of oak. His body was in the spotlight. The knot in my throat grew and I took a seat, crying openly and knowing it didn’t matter anymore.

The people there were mostly old friends of his who didn’t even know who I was. Besides, they were all wrapped up in their own grief.

In the back of the funeral home, I sat and listened as the sad music played, drawing the pain out in us all. Pictures of Theodore in his younger days flashed on a white wall. He was such a handsome young man.

A man spoke to us about life and death and how we all have to meet our maker some day. Honestly, I tried not to listen to the words he said. They just made it all so much harder to take.

I’d never again get to hear Theodore’s voice. I’d never feel the touch of his paper-thin hand. I’d never get to look into those eyes that held an impish twinkle until his heart had taken all it could take.

Flowers and plants littered the floor around his casket. At least the people of Portland knew the value of the man, even if his only relative did not. My heart clenched at that thought.

Heartless bastard.

After the funeral was over, I felt drained and exhausted—like someone had sucked all the emotion out of me entirely. The last thing I wanted to do was go have food and drinks with all the other funeral guests. But I found myself going with the small crowd over to the reception area across the hallway.

A patio off the reception room had been set up with the buffet. The sky had cleared, amazingly. The sun was out and fluffy white clouds moved through the sky. It was warm, but not too warm. It felt very nice for an early autumn day.

Maybe I would just leave, I thought as I stood by the buffet table of the catered gathering after the service. I could just leave and no one would be the wiser.

“I’ve been trying to figure it out,” a voice commented. That voice gave me the shivers for just a second. It was so familiar I thought it must be Theodore. But, of course, I knew it wasn’t. Very slowly, I turned around, fighting off the gooseflesh on my arms.

Low, deep, dominant, and very masculine. Theodore’s voice had gotten weaker and quieter as he’d declined, but he’d never lost those qualities. This man had the same ones, only he had energy, strength, and youth behind his words too.

“David.” There wasn’t a trace of doubt in my voice because I felt none. David Black. It had to be. I could tell by the shape of his eyes, and the slightly sardonic tilt to his full lips.

I could tell that my recognition took him aback. He withdrew a little bit from me, and at that moment, I saw some things I hadn’t expected to see.

First off, the man was handsome. I’d only known Theodore when he was old. But the pictures I’d seen of him proved he’d been a handsome man. David had those same glistening, dark-blue eyes, with the same subtle sense of humor in them and in his whole expression. He was tall, at least a good half a foot taller than my five feet seven inches, and his shoulders were broad and strong. His hair was dark and careless, though he was otherwise perfectly put together.

“Excuse me, I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.” He gave me a tight smile, and I felt the urge to take a step or two back. There was something almost feral about the man at that moment, despite how sharply he was dressed.

Without words, he asked who I was and what I was doing at his grandfather’s funeral. He must’ve known pretty much everyone else there, since they had been friends of Theodore’s for years and years, from what I’d picked up from the service.

I crossed my arms over my chest, trying not to get defensive. After all, I had nothing to be ashamed of. Of the two of us, he was the one who should feel defensive.

“Kaye James.” I kept my tone cool and a little bit stern. My ‘nurse voice’ as I liked to call it—the one that every good nurse I’d ever met deliberately cultivated. The one that was meant to let patients know that, yes, we were there to help and it would be best if they went along with what we said.

If he was impressed, he didn’t show it. He just arched one of those dark, winged eyebrows of his, a slight smile tugging up the corners of his lips.

“Kaye James,” he repeated my name, and for some reason, that sent the strangest little shivers down my spine. “And how did you know my grandfather?”

Ah! I knew it.

“I was his nurse.” I refused to be charmed by the way he held his hand out to me, offering it in a handshake.

“Well, then. Thank you.” He took my hand in his, and my fingers were dwarfed. He had enormous hands. It was a little intimidating, being around him. He took up a lot of room, and not only physically either.

It was impossible to be around him and not have my attention focused on him. When he walked into a room, I would bet that all eyes would be on him. Not only that, but I’d bet he’d expect that attention, too.

“David Black.” He finally confirmed what I had already known to be true. Our hands were still linked, and I couldn’t help but feel the handshake had gone on a little bit too long.

“Hello, David.” I looked into those dark eyes and once more I could swear I saw a hint of pain in them. “Theodore spoke of you.”

He wasn’t expecting that and his gaze sharpened. He looked at me with much more interest, which confused me. The picture I’d built up of this man was that he was utterly uncaring, but I could already tell that wasn’t the case.

How strange. Why had David ignored that phone call? Or all of the ones before—the ones I knew Theodore had made himself before becoming too weak? I could swear he was deeply grieved and I shook my head slightly.

None of this made any sense.

“Why did you thank me?” I finally broke the silence. It seemed he wasn’t going to be the one to do it. In fact, it seemed he had slipped into a world of his own, barely acknowledging my presence at all.

“For taking care of him.” There was a long silence before he spoke, and for a moment, I actually thought he wouldn’t say anything at all. “Excuse me. I see that people are leaving and I should say goodbye.”

Before I could say anything, he was gone. What was there to say, anyway? My thoughts were far too confused to come up with anything coherent. It was better to just let him go.

I had walked into this room not liking David Black much at all. In less than five minutes, the man had blown that out of the water, though not enough for me to forget entirely how he had treated his own grandfather. But it was enough to confuse me a little.

He was charming, no doubt about it.

Oh well. I didn’t have such an inflated sense of my own importance that I thought it would matter much to David what I thought of him. Why should it? I would probably never see the guy again.

Remembering his dark, penetrating eyes, his strong body, and his slightly rough, deep voice, I had to think it was probably a good thing, me not ever seeing him again.

He put my thoughts into disarray, and that was after only knowing about his existence for a few days. It was sort of ridiculous, and not particularly like me at all to get this worked up over someone.

It was just his charisma. But with that being said, I decided to execute the better part of valor and take off, still figuring no one would notice if I left.

I was almost right. One person did notice. As I pushed open the door to the funeral home, where the funeral itself and the reception had been held, I looked back just once and noticed a particular pair of dark, thoughtful eyes following me out.

David was frowning as he looked at me, and I told myself quite firmly that it was none of my business—none at all—what the man’s deal was. My involvement with the Black family had ended with Theodore’s death.

As the door shut behind me, I really did have the notion I would never see David again. I even thought I might never hear his name again. Why would I? I was hardly involved in the Portland business scene.

There was something unresolved between us that day, but I didn’t acknowledge it to myself. Maybe it was because I was too busy grieving for the patient who had become my friend, but as I walked away, I was sure I had closed that particular chapter in my life.

Even so, David Black and his piercing eyes, high cheekbones, and slightly mocking smirk haunted me. I tried not to acknowledge it even to myself, but they did.

David

The day of the reading of the will dawned clear and bright, a perfect Indian summer day. The sky was a dark, rich blue, the occasional little cloud puffing through the air, and I knew I was about to become a much wealthier man very soon.

The whole money issue hadn’t actually occurred to me until the lawyer had called to ask me to be there for the reading. Of course, I was going to get everything, but in my attempts to distance myself from the whole situation, I had forgotten entirely about his estate.

I knew he’d been a very, very wealthy man—far beyond my own not insignificant net worth. He’d had decades to build it all up, and I was really only just starting off.

Oh, but the things I was going to be able to do with all he had undoubtedly left me …

I had visions in my head as I went into the lawyer’s office. With the money I had been left, I could boost Black Tech and really make it grow. Maybe I could even run with the big boys. With enough money and work, anything was possible.

As I walked, I could almost swear the soles of my Fendi shoes barely touched the linoleum floors. At the same time, though, my heart was heavy. I had assumed I had time to make up with my grandfather. I had assumed I would have the three measly days to do that much.

I didn’t deserve this, but I knew what I could do. Grandpa’s mind had been a shrewd one, and I could honor him by building a company for the future—one that would carry not just his name, but also his spirit.

In short, the circumstances were terrible, but I would turn this experience into something really great. I had stood over his coffin and promised him I would do it, and I always kept my promises.

I stopped dead in my tracks when I pushed open the door to the office. It was a quiet, tasteful place, with generic, classy art on the walls and very few people waiting in the office.

Actually, there were only two people there, other than myself. One of them was the receptionist, who glanced up at me and smiled politely, apparently appeased by my expensive clothing.

The other one was that little nurse—Kaye something or other. The pretty young lady who had apparently been taking care of my grandfather. The question was, what was she doing at my grandpa’s lawyer’s office?

Well, the old man had good taste. Kaye was something close to stunning, with her wide, full, generous mouth and her enormous green eyes. Even in her modest outfit, I could tell that she had curves for days—rounded hips and breasts and a tiny little waist—and beautiful, long, black hair that I was willing to bet would fall almost to her ass if she let it down from the loose up-do she had it in.

It was more than just her physical appearance, though. Kaye had this aura that I couldn’t help but find soothing. She was a nurse, and I would be willing to bet almost anything she was very good at her job. She radiated both competence and gentleness all at the same time.

She looked up at me, and I found myself unprepared for the look in her eyes. She was trying to learn about me, wasn’t she? Just by looking at me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my tone just a little bit more blunt than usual. She’d surprised me by coming to the funeral, and she downright shocked me by being here for the reading of my grandfather’s will. Unless she was here for some other reason?

“The same thing as you, I would imagine.” She glanced down, away from my gaze, and I frowned thoughtfully. So she’d been invited to this, too? Had the unpredictable old man actually left something to his nurse?

“Mr. Black, Miss James, we’re ready for you now.” The receptionist won my everlasting affection for breaking the awkward moment. I hadn’t been all that gracious. Actually, I’d sort of been a dick, hadn’t I? I’d just been so dumbfounded by seeing her there at all.

“Shall we?” I asked, and I even held the door open for her as we went into the office, which was enormous and had a gorgeous, unhindered view of the Columbia River. This guy was clearly doing all right for himself, which I had pretty much figured. I’d never seen my grandfather—or my father, for that matter—skimp on anything that was really important.

A lawyer would definitely fall into that category.

“Thank you both for coming,” the lawyer, a distinguished older gentleman with beautiful, white hair and a dark tan that I suspected couldn’t be real, intoned. His name was, if I remembered correctly, John Dixon, or something of the sort.

He started to talk, and I didn’t pay a lot of attention. I knew what I was going to hear, after all. The only thing I was curious about was what the lovely Miss Kaye James was going to be granted. How important had she been to him, really?

“To my grandson and only living heir, I leave a message. It grieves me greatly that we were not, during my life, able to mend whatever rift there was between us.” John was reading from a paper on his desk, and I started to pay much more attention.

I realized, then, that I didn’t even know how much money was in the estate. I didn’t even know what I was about to inherit. I listened carefully, but the lawyer just turned to the lovely Kaye, and I frowned a little bit. For the first time, I started to think that something was very wrong here.

Unless he was going to deal with her very small bequest first? But then why had he mentioned me first? It didn’t make sense.

“To my nurse, Kaye James,” the lawyer continued. “You filled my last days with light and happiness. Your smiles meant everything to me. Your gentle spirit brought me peace. To you, I leave it all. Every car, every property, every last cent in every bank account. Thank you, Kaye. I only wish I had more to give you because you certainly deserve it.”

For a moment, there was complete silence in the room. During that silence, I felt something inside me—some basic idea the universe was a good and fair place—die. The last little bit of hope—of trust—in my heart withered, and in its place anger blossomed. Sick. Hot. Feverish.

“You bitch,” I hissed, turning to face Kaye. All of my dreams went up in smoke right then and there. I could, and I would, build Black Tech into a leading worldwide brand, but it was going to be a lot harder and I would be very old by the time that happened.

“Mr. Black! Please,” the lawyer said, and I noted dimly that he didn’t seem surprised by my outburst. If the man read wills on a regular basis, no doubt he was used to this sort of thing.

Kaye didn’t say anything back. She just bowed her head, letting her hair swing forward in a dark, wavy waterfall to obscure her features. In her eyes, just before they were hidden, I could swear I saw the faintest gleam of something.

Tears?

Surely not. No doubt this woman had plotted with my grandfather. Maybe she’d even put him up to it.

“He wasn’t in his right mind when he wrote this will,” I stated. I tried to keep the hint of desperation out of my voice—to sound firm and strong and not like I was grasping at straws. “He never would have done this otherwise.”

“Slander,” the lawyer said right back, his tone casual enough, but his eyes burning. “I was there, Mr. Black, and I assure you that he was in complete control of his mental faculties. I don’t appreciate you insinuating otherwise.”

It was a warning, and we both knew it. He was a lawyer and I wasn’t, and if he thought he could make a slander suit stick, he probably could. I needed to be careful, even if I suddenly felt like every inch of my body was packed with coals, smoldering and burning me from the inside out. Even if the last thing I wanted was to be careful.

So I did the one and only thing that I could do—the only thing that could save me before I said or did something to get myself into more trouble than I could handle. I wasn’t poor, but getting into a legal pissing contest with a lawyer wasn’t something that I could really afford.

I stood up and I stormed out of the room. I even let the door slam behind me and walked past the receptionist without so much as looking at her. She probably was pretty used to people having reactions like that, just as her boss was.

I would very much like to claim that I didn’t look back, but it wasn’t true. I did, just once, but just for a split second. Not at the asshole lawyer, but at Kaye, who hadn’t moved from her spot or spoken the entire time she was there.

I wasn’t going to just take this lying down. Legally, I knew I couldn’t challenge her for the money. The will had been incredibly clear. There had to be something I could do—I had never been known for simply accepting situations I didn’t like.

There was something about the way Kaye bowed forward with some sadness far more eloquent than words could ever express. Words could lie, but I was absolutely certain she could not have faked that posture. Not unless she was a lot more of a con artist than I already thought.

As my anger burned, it changed. It didn’t stay quite as hot, but lingered on and refused to die out. A hotter anger might have burned itself to ashes, but this slow, simmering rage, I knew, could last for years.

For as long as it took to get back what was mine.

The details, I wasn’t quite sure about yet. I would figure them out when I’d had some time to think about it. One thing I did know, however, was that Kaye James was going to suffer for what my grandfather had done.

Even then, I felt a surge of misgiving about that. What had Kaye done wrong? Nothing, really, other than provide exemplary service to a dying old man. Could that have been enough for him to sign away all of his worldly possessions to a relative stranger, though? No, she must have done something to convince him, I told myself.

In business, there was collateral damage. Kaye was a nurse and nurses were tough. So I did my best to put the small twinge of guilt I felt out of the way and focused instead on my dreams—the ones that needed money in order to become a reality.

Those dreams had seemed so attainable and hopeful just earlier that day, tinged only with grief over my grandfather’s death. Now they were tinged with bitterness, feeling poisonous as they wound through my head.

I was going to get what I wanted, though, no matter the cost. The businessman in me could hardly do anything else.

That bitch would get what she deserved.

Vengeance would be mine.

Chapter 3

Kaye

I’m not sure whether I was entirely aware of what was happening in my life for a couple of days after the meeting.

The next day, I went back to work. From the details I had been given about Theodore’s estate, I knew I would never have to work again. At least, I knew it logically, though I was learning from first-hand experience that you can know something in your head and not in your heart.

I’d always had to work, like most people did, just to pay the rent and make sure I could continue to eat. The fact that I could just stop wasn’t something that really resonated with me

What would Theodore want? For me to sit around and live idly off of the inheritance? No way. I knew the man well enough to know he would never want something like that for me. Not in a million years. Theodore himself had only ever been idle when extreme illness had enforced it.

So I went back to work, and I didn’t tell anyone about all of the money I suddenly had, or was going to have when everything cleared. I took care of people, because that was my job, and more than that, because it was my passion.

I was a nurse. No matter what happened to me and no matter where my life took me, I would nurse people. I could have ten dollars to my name, or I could (somehow, in a way that didn’t even really fully make sense to me yet) be worth slightly over 100 billion dollars, but I would always be who I was.

I knew one thing for certain. I didn’t want this money to change me. As I started to come to terms with the money, I poked cautiously around for charities. Keeping that much money for myself wasn’t something that I could even fathom.

I couldn’t spend it in my entire lifetime, especially because part of it was in properties. I would never have to worry about having a place to live, and paying rent, as strange as it seemed, was something I didn’t have to do anymore.

Yes, definitely charities. The problem I ran into was there just wasn’t enough money to donate a decent amount to all of the worthy ones out there. It was all a little bit overwhelming.

Not only that, but there was the strangest feeling of guilt over even having this indecent amount of money. I owned properties I had never seen. The numbers, locations, and place names had started to blur as the lawyer had listed them all. In the end, it had sort of sounded like he was speaking Martian or something.

Part of it was the look I’d glimpsed on David Black’s face just before he stormed out. That money was his, wasn’t it? At least, David had clearly assumed so. Did he need it? I really knew very little about the man.

He’d been so angry. Part of me couldn’t blame him. As the only family Theodore had left, surely he had been expecting the lion’s share of the estate, if not all of it. It was hard not to feel a little bit sorry for him.

It was made a bit easier when I remembered the bleakness in Theodore’s eyes when David hadn’t picked up the phone. I couldn’t imagine ignoring someone like that, even though I had realized David had no real way of knowing his grandfather was dying.

Still, that didn’t do much, if anything, to excuse him. Not to my way of thinking. His grandfather had reached out to him, and I knew the day that I’d dialed the phone for him hadn’t been the first time.

How many times had Theodore reached out to David, and how many times had David rejected him without a word? I didn’t know the whole story, but I couldn’t imagine what Theodore could have done to deserve that.

Nobody deserved to be left completely alone.

Nobody.

To say I was conflicted about David Black would be a definite understatement. It was a strange situation—to feel angry at someone for betraying someone I cared about and at the same time to feel sorry for them too.

David was so angry at me, too. The disdain and the fury with which he had looked at me would haunt me if I let it. I barely knew the guy, and normally I would probably be able to brush off his opinion of me with very little difficulty.

Somehow, with David, it was more difficult.

It seemed easier to just dive into my work. It would take time for everything to clear, and there was no law that said I had to decide what to do right this second. Or even ever. I could take my time.

One thing I didn’t do, though, was let them assign me to work one-on-one with another patient. Not full-time. Theodore’s passing had broken my heart, and I wasn’t sure I could take it if something like that happened again.

I worked until I couldn’t anymore. Any overtime offered, I took, and when I fell into bed, it was because I was too exhausted to keep my eyes open for even another second.

Until one night, about a week after I got the news, I found that I couldn’t sleep, despite having worked my full shift and then some. I lay in bed, too tired to toss and turn, but my eyes simply wouldn’t remain shut.

It wasn’t right. I had all of this money and I hadn’t done anything to deserve it. Why had Theodore left it all to me? The houses, the car, the investments—it was all mine and all I had ever done was my job.

Slowly, during that long night, I worked things through in my head a little bit. I had worked hard my whole life and had put myself through nursing school. I didn’t need this money. I had been doing just fine on my own.

Still, it would be nice to not have to worry about money. I could comfortably do that on a quarter of what I had been given. My needs were not all that great.

It was about two o’clock in the morning, and I was so tired my bones ached. My brain hopped around, barely letting me think coherently about anything at all, or so I would have thought.

Suddenly, though, it hit me. I knew what I needed to do. The only thing I could ethically do, if only I could figure out how to make it work.

I would split the money with David Black.

It felt strange, in a way, to even consider such a thing. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about David, other than deeply conflicted.

Still, something had come between Theodore and David, something they hadn’t managed to fix before Theodore’s death. Maybe I could help bring them together again. It was too late for Theodore, but maybe not for David.

It was worth a shot.

Then I would take my half of the money, and I would divide it in half again. That would give me a quarter of the original 100 billion to see me through the rest of my life and the same amount to give to charity.

The decision felt good and I smiled as I finally let myself drift off to sleep. I was halfway there when something else hit me.

I had absolutely no idea how to reach David Black.

There was social media, of course, but it wasn’t like David Black was the most uncommon name in the world. I could try, and I would, but I might need something else to reach him too.

Then it hit me. I was being an idiot and making this all much harder than it had to be.

John Dixon.

The lawyer obviously knew how to reach David, since he had done so to get him to that terrible meeting in the first place. I could reach out to him, ask him to get into contact with David, and tell him what I wanted to do with the money.

It would be better if Mr. Dixon did it anyway. For whatever reason, I found it greatly unsettling to be around David. He didn’t seem to be all that fond of me, either, and I suspected that, even if I did find him, he would never accept my call. If by some minor miracle he did, he would likely just hang up the second he realized it was me.

This would work, though. Or it could. The whole thing could probably be handled without me even needing to see David again, so I could do the right thing and not have to worry about any sort of awkward fallout from it.

Though maybe David would be nicer if he knew he was getting some money after all. It seemed to me he was more likely to be upset that he hadn’t gotten it all, and probably he’d even call me hurtful names again.

Contacting John Dixon would work though. I was sure of it. And with all of that decided, I was able to finally close my eyes and actually drift into a deep, restful sleep, something I hadn’t experienced since the night before Theodore Black passed away.

For some reason, though, my sleep was far from dreamless. It was filled with thoughts of David—his smile, as rarely as I’d seen it, the sparkle in his dark eyes, and the humor and warmth I could almost swear was there.

In real life, the man unsettled me deeply and made me feel strange in my own skin. But in my dream, he was both incredibly exciting and strangely soothing to me in a way that I wasn’t used to.

I slept through the whole night and into the next morning, and by the time I woke up, I could almost swear I smelled the man. It was almost infuriating how he could get to me so easily.

During the day, I could keep my guard up and sternly refuse to let any pleasant thoughts of him into my head at all. Night time, though, had been proven to be a different matter entirely.

In the night, something was different. Something approaching sensuality took over my body, my mind, and maybe even my heart. I had always been too cautious to let anything like this happen before. I’d guarded my heart well, but here I was, obsessed with a man who had seemed indifferent toward me at best and outright hostile at worst.

I had never been such an idiot before and in the cold, bright light of day, I was surer than ever that any interaction I had with David should take place with a lawyer present.

The ideal situation would be for me to never see the obnoxious man ever again, and that was exactly what I intended to make happen. I was still going to do what my conscience told me was right, but I was going to do it while protecting myself too.

Something told me seeing David Black again would be pretty much the worst thing I could do.

But I had to see him in order to do what I thought was right. Giving him the money would be the right thing to do. That was that.

I’d talk to the lawyer ASAP.

David

I knew I needed to get my revenge—I had never wavered on that. Not even for a second. What I hadn’t figured out, though, was exactly how I was going to make that happen. I didn’t know just what I could do to get what I wanted.

Of course, I knew I could contest the will. I could take it to court. I didn’t know what the chances of me winning were, though, and a court verdict was pretty damn final. If I pursued that option then I’d be stuck with the choice I made.

Something told me there was a better option. If I played my cards right, I could get everything I wanted. So I waited, and I didn’t so much as consult a lawyer.

To the world, it would look like I had totally accepted what my loving grandfather had done to me. Inside, though, I was brooding, just biding my time. Soon, enough, the idea would come, and I would be ready for it when it happened.

It didn’t really take very long. Only eight days had passed since the funeral, but it might have taken longer if not for Brent.

I had been lost in my own world, but Brent had never been the sort of man to let me get away with that. He was my best friend, and really, my only close friend. For so many years my main focus had been keeping my business going and friendship fell to the wayside.

He’d sort of adopted me, in a way. So when I got depressed and started rejecting his invitations to go hang out, he had something to say about it. In this case, it was more about doing than saying, since he showed up at my house uninvited with a case of my favorite beer.

At that point, there was nothing to do but bow to the inevitable, and it was while I was quite a few beers into that case that I opened my mouth and started to speak. What can I say in my defense? I wasn’t used to drinking all that much—I liked to be in control most of the time.

Brent listened, and it wasn’t until I had the words out that I realized just how much I needed someone who would listen. It got even better, too, since I could quickly see his mind—his keen, deeply intelligent mind—jumping into action.

I should have talked to him before and I quickly realized it.

“It’s easy.” Brent couldn’t have had a bigger smirk on his face if he’d tried. This was all an intellectual challenge to him, and it was one he didn’t seem to find all that difficult. “You just have to figure out how to make everything that’s hers, yours. I think we both know the easiest, quickest way for you to do that.”

I winced, but I wasn’t going to play stupid. I did know. Unfortunately. But there was no way Brent could be serious.

“You want me to marry her? That woman? You know what she did to me, Brent. She got everything.” I grabbed another beer and looked at him. Brent had to be joking. It was the only option.

He didn’t seem to be, though. He was smirking, yes, but still in the way where he clearly thought he’d had the best idea of all time.

“Yeah, she did. So this is how you take it back,” Brent insisted. “You want revenge. Well, what better revenge would there be than to leave her in even worse shape than she started with? You marry her, get a quickie divorce, and you take it all.”

I frowned a little. It seemed Brent was actually somehow serious about this ridiculous plan, but I could also tell he had never been married or even seriously considered it.

“That’s not how it works. If we get married, there’s no way she’d just hand everything over to me.” I popped the top of my beer and thoughtfully downed a good portion of it. Brent was an idiot, of course, but I pulled an image of Kaye’s beauty into my head.

Married.

She would have to give herself to me if we were married. The thought was as sudden as it was unexpected, and I shoved it deliberately away. Sleeping with the woman was not the point of this exercise.

“There are prenups. Just get her to sign one of those. It’s pretty common.” Brent gave me a confident smirk and a wave of his hand as though to say the whole thing was far too easy for him to need to lay it out like he was. Like the little details were beyond him.

“A prenup?” My eyes narrowed and I started to toss that around in my head, which was admittedly pretty foggy with the beer at that point. “That could work. The person who ended the marriage could forfeit all of the money …”

Then I realized what I was saying and I shook my head—which protested rather strongly.

“No, wait. If I put that in, she would never leave. The last thing I want is to be saddled with a wife I can’t get rid of without losing all of my money.” I downed the rest of the beer, welcoming the rush of heat it brought. “No way am I getting into that sort of trap.”

I didn’t want to marry anyone. I had decided years ago that I wouldn’t. I’d seen too much in my life for it to seem to be worth it. Even if my brain ever fell out of my ear and I did choose to get married, I would never pick Kaye.

Something about her stuck in my head in a way that didn’t seem quite safe.

“Okay, no. You’re right, but I’ve got it,” Brent said, and I could see him getting more and more excited, his blue eyes bright with mischief and his cheeks flushed. “The prenup will say whoever is at fault for the breakup of the marriage will get nothing. The injured party, if any, gets it all.”

I shook my head, staring at him. I still wasn’t sure that I got it, and he rolled his eyes at me. Then, thankfully, he continued on.

“Including cheating, David. She cheats, you rake in your money, and the marriage is over. You come out on top.”

Oh my God.

He was right. That would be one situation in which no one could blame me for the marriage breaking down. If she cheated on me, it would all be over and I’d have exactly what I wanted without having to go to court for it, probably. And even if Kaye did hypothetically drag it to court, there would be no chance of her winning.

It would be trading a doubtful outcome for an almost certain one. But there was still one problem left, the way I saw it.

“What would make her cheat?” I asked, and Brent considered that for a moment before his grin widened.

“I would.”

That’s where the plan started, and the pieces fell into place so easily after that. I would marry Kaye, and then I would start to treat her badly right after the wedding. Hurting from my treatment, she would doubtless fall into the arms of anyone who paid her even a hint of attention.

In my experience, women weren’t the most faithful of creatures. I’d never let one of them get close to me, but even so, I’d been cheated on. And I knew that my mother had left me and my father for another man. So it didn’t seem strange to me that Brent could seduce my hypothetical wife.

Brent was handsome enough, though I was hardly the best judge of that. But I’d seen women throw themselves at him often enough to have some idea. More than that, he was smart, and I could see him having Kaye wrapped around his little finger soon enough.

So easy. Almost foolproof. I ‘catch’ them in the act, she cries, I leave, and I get the money. Simple.

“What do you get out of it?” I wondered, and he shrugged at me.

“What else? A cut of the money that I help you get.”

I struggled against the booze, trying hard to poke at this plan, to see if there were any holes in it. No matter how I looked at it, I didn’t find any. Kaye would give in to human nature, and because of that, she would lose everything.

Seemed like fitting revenge to me.

“Won’t it look suspicious?” I asked, poking at the only bit of the whole plan that still seemed a little dodgy to me. “If I marry her so quickly? Why would she go for that? She barely knows me.”

Brent got this strange little smile on his face and he raised his bottle of beer, using it to gesture to me.

“Is that a real question? You have women flinging themselves into bed with you all the damn time, David. I have faith that you will figure out how to seduce one little nurse with no problem at all.”

I knew I could be charming. I hadn’t shown a lot of that charm toward Kaye as of yet. But when I wanted to, I could make people like me.

Our start had been rocky, but wouldn’t that just make it all that much more of a challenge? And if there was a single thing on this earth that I couldn’t resist, it was a challenge.

“If you’re serious …” I took a deep breath, still struggling to think through the haze of the beers I’d consumed. Surely there had to be some reason this whole thing wouldn’t work, but I would be damned if I could think of one. “I’m in. What do you say about five million? I think that’s a pretty good deal for you for sleeping with my future wife.”

Not to mention that Kaye was utterly beautiful, in a quiet, graceful, and kind sort of way. Brent would be lucky to have her. Five million was a pretty decent paycheck for this sort of thing.

“But you only get it if she sleeps with you,” I added. I thought it was likely that she would, but I wasn’t going to take any chances and be out five million dollars. I’d been born and raised in a fairly high-income family, but even for me, that was hardly chump change.

“Deal,” Brent said, and then grinned. “But you’re going to have to do your part, man, and I expect to be best man at your wedding.”

My wedding. Oh my God. It seemed ridiculous that Brent would even be saying those words, much less that we had a whole plan to make that happen.

“You got it,” I promised, and that was that. The plan was made.

All I needed to do then was figure out how I was going to change Kaye’s undoubtedly negative opinion of me enough that she’d marry me.

I’d have to shape up, stop the moping, and somehow push the hatred I had for her down far enough that it wouldn’t show when I charmed the pants off her then slipped a wedding ring onto her slender finger.

Vengeance might be fun.

Who knew?

Chapter 4

Kaye

I meant to call the lawyer, I really did, but one of the worst things that could happen to a nurse happened to me.

I got sick.

Not super sick. It was just a cold, but a particularly nasty one. The sort that had me sniffling, blowing my nose, and hanging out in bed with a book, too miserable to do anything else.

I certainly couldn’t go to work, not with the job I had. It would be horribly irresponsible to give those germs to people who were already sick. So, right when I would have liked to be very busy, right when I wanted the distraction of work, I couldn’t have it.

After two days of feeling like crap, I finally saw some improvement. I was able to get up, have a shower, and dress myself in clean pajamas. That was about all I had the energy for though. So I collapsed onto my couch to watch some Netflix and begin my recuperation.

I never ever got sick. It had to be the stress that was getting to me. I’d only been rich for just over a week and I was already pretty sick of it. Literally. The only sensible thing there was to do was distract myself with television from the 90s. That wasn’t so bad—it was actually kind of awesome. I mean, what choice did I really have?

I was thoroughly engrossed in an episode from an early season of Friends when a knock came at my door.

That was odd.

It wasn’t that I didn’t have friends, because I did. But they were pretty much all friends I’d made through work and this was a normal workday. Plus, none of them were close enough as friends to just randomly drop by, and I hadn’t gotten any texts about any of them coming over.

As I got up, I was still a little bit dizzy. I rubbed my eyes to try to clear them a little bit—to pull myself out of my stuffed head and itchy eyes—and went to answer the door.

It was probably the landlord, though that would be weird, since the bills were all up to date and my rent had been paid. I hadn’t forgotten, had I? It had undoubtedly been a strange week for me, but I could swear …

I opened the door, and it wasn’t the landlord.

If you had asked me the absolute last person I would have expected to knock on my door, it probably wouldn’t have been David Black. But he wouldn’t have been far off. And, yet, he stood there, staring at me with that small little smirk on his lips as he gazed at me.

No, I definitely didn’t expect that.

Suddenly, I was very aware that I looked like crap. I hadn’t even brushed my hair and my nose had to be red from wiping it so many times. Meanwhile, David stood there like he’d just stepped out of the pages of a men’s fashion magazine, or maybe even right off a runway.

Unfair. Bitterly so.

“What are you …” I remembered my manners, even if it was somewhat belated, and tried again. “David. Would you like to come in?”

“Thank you, yes,” he agreed, and I winced a little. I usually kept my little apartment spotless, but I’d been so sick that I was sure it was a mess. Desperately, I tried to remember how bad it was. I’d been too caught up in my cold-inspired pity party to keep the house the way I usually did.

At least there weren’t dirty clothes or dishes in the living room. That was something, though I was suddenly very aware that my apartment was about the size of a postage stamp. I somehow got the sense he was used to bigger places.

The way he moved through the small room was graceful. He exuded class, and I kind of hated him for that. A man who couldn’t, at the very least, take a phone call from his dying grandfather had no class. “I bet you’re wondering why I’m here.” David seated himself on my white leather sofa. He glanced around the room once, but he didn’t seem to be judging, which I was grateful for.

I had nice things. I made decent money. I’d never been ashamed of my little apartment. But I knew he lived an upscale lifestyle. It was intimidating to have a man like him sitting in my small space.

I settled down on the chair that matched the couch, as far away from him as the tiny room allowed. If he started to yell again, I didn’t want to be anywhere close to him.

“The thought had crossed my mind.” My tone was just the slightest bit wry and I didn’t try to hide it. Leaning forward, I looked at him, trying not to notice how handsome he was.

So what? There were a lot of handsome men in the world and this one had shown himself to be somewhat temperamental.

“I owe you an apology,” he suddenly stated, dark eyes fixed on me, every appearance of sincerity on his face.

I didn’t have any idea what to say. He’d completely shocked me with his admission, and I leaned back, knowing I was staring and unable to do anything about it.

The fact was, I thought he was right. He did owe me an apology, but I didn’t know how to say it without sounding like a bit of a jerk myself. So I just waited and hoped he would explain.

“I’ve been pretty terrible to you,” he did go on, after a brief, awkward silence. “I just lost it, I guess. It felt like a lot of bad things happening altogether, but you didn’t deserve anything that I said. So, I’m sorry, Kaye. I mean it, I am. I hope you can forgive me someday.”

I frowned, looking at him, scanning him for any hint of insincerity.

“The last time I saw you,” I pointed out. “You called me a …well. You know what you called me.”

I wasn’t going to dignify the statement by repeating it.

I had the satisfaction of at least seeing him wince in response. “I know. Like I said, I’m sorry. I was an asshole. I was just so upset about my grandfather, and … well, like I said, I hope that you can forgive me someday.”

How to ask this next question without basically calling him a liar? I shook my head. It was going to come out like that, I thought, no matter how I phrased it.

“You hadn’t seen him in years, from what he told me,” I finally spoke, in the least accusatory tone that I could manage. I didn’t want to start something, but his story that he'd been too upset to be polite didn’t quite seem to fit.

With a soft sigh, David raised one hand to rub at his eyes. It was a small, forlorn little gesture, and the truth was that it did a lot to make me believe him. Surely faking his words would be easier than his body language.

Besides, what reason did he have to lie to me? It didn’t make any sense. Why should he care what I thought of him?

“No, I hadn’t. Because I’m a terrible person.” David sounded defeated, which matched with the subtle movement of rubbing his eyes that I’d seen. I could almost swear he didn’t know he’d done it.

“I didn’t get the whole story from Theodore,” I admitted. “He didn’t exactly talk a lot about, well, much of anything. But he tried to call you the night before he died.”

“I know,” I could barely hear David speaking and had to lean forward again to pick up his words at all. “I didn’t take the call. I was too scared.”

In my experience, that wasn’t the sort of thing men admitted to very often—being scared. Especially not strong, attractive billionaires. It got my attention, to say the least.

Then he started speaking, and I felt the same pain—the same pressure building up in my heart as I had when Theodore had spoken to me the night before he’d died.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of losing him too.”

Nine words. That was all it took for him to turn my heart inside out, to make me feel like someone had stabbed me right in the stomach. And he didn’t stop there.

“I was such a coward,” he confessed, his voice still almost too soft to hear. “When my dad died, everything about my grandpa reminded me of him. My dad, he looked a lot like me, and my grandpa was the spitting image of both of us. I couldn’t even hear him talk without wanting to shut down.”

Why was he telling me all of this? I didn’t know, but I couldn’t make myself stop him—not for anything. Maybe he was telling me because he needed to tell someone and it was sort of flattering that he was trusting me with all of this.

“I’m sorry,” I broke in gently, when it became clear that he was gathering his thoughts.

He shook his head and his eyes were bleak, the shimmer in them almost gone when he spoke again.

“You have no reason to be sorry. It was all my choice. It’s on me. I was too scared to be hurt, and because of it, now I really have lost everyone and everything.”

I thought of myself as a pretty good judge of character, and the way he was speaking to me, I found I believed him. Once more, I couldn’t think of a single reason he would bother lying to me. Why would he take the time, when I was sure he was a busy man?

“I wish …” His voice broke and he finally looked away from me, seemingly utterly defeated. “I just wish I could build a time machine. I wish I could go back to the past and live it all again.”

I had to swallow around a lump in my throat and my eyes threatened to tear up. The story was so tragic and I knew I was only getting the first parts of it. With nothing more than a brief hesitation, I shifted over onto the couch and reached out to touch his hand.

It was very forward of me, but I found myself eager to provide some sort of comfort. This man wasn’t one of my patients, but he was obviously suffering, and I couldn’t just sit around and not try to help.

“You can tell me if you want to,” I told him, holding his hand firmly in mine. He gripped onto it like I was a lifeline. “You can tell me everything. I’ll listen. I don’t know what else I can do, but I can at least do that.”

He shot me a sad little smile that made my heart break for him even more and, still holding my hand, he started to speak.

David

Sitting on her little sofa, I felt odd. I was actually telling her the truth about myself. I had meant to, but it still felt weird as the words flowed out of me with ease. Kaye was remarkably easy to confess things to. It was part of the plan for me to expose my true self, making myself so completely vulnerable. The thing that shocked me the most was how much it hurt to talk about all of it.

I’d spent hours trying to figure out what sort of story I was going to give her to get her sympathy. After all, you can’t just call a woman a bitch and then expect her to welcome you back with open arms. So what was I going to say to get her to forgive me for that?

I’d settled on the truth. It was easier to remember than a lie, for one thing. I wouldn’t need to keep a fancy lie straight in my head.

I hadn’t realized just how much it would hurt to talk about these things with an actual living human being. I’d spent so long—twelve years—trying not to even think about any of them, even to myself.

And there she was, with her small hand gently wrapped around my fingers, telling me that I could tell it all. Which was, of course, just what I’d wanted. I wanted to work on her sympathies and this was the perfect chance to do so.

It was also just good to talk—to say these things that I’d kept hidden for so long. Maybe I’d needed to get all of this out of the depths of my own head. It wasn’t why I was doing any of this, of course, but it was still nice.

So I did. I talked about things I had never said out loud before. Things I hadn’t so much as thought about before. Kaye hadn’t said much, yet she seemed to be able to pull things out of me no one ever had. Not even any of my friends.

“I was seventeen when my dad died, but before that, my mom left. I barely remember her.” I found my hands clenching at each other, the fingers fiddling together with my nerves, and I glanced up at Kaye. “May I have some water or something to drink?”

I wasn’t thirsty, but I wanted to get my hands to stop dancing together.

“I’m so sorry. I should have offered.” Kaye got up, and I heard the fridge open. Seconds later, she came back with a bottle of water, which I accepted gratefully.

“Do you know why she left?” Kaye prompted, and I realized I’d let myself get lost in my head again. It was a bit of a habit with me.

“There was another man.” I opened the bottle of water, drinking a little bit of it down. “She walked out, and I never saw her again. I don’t want to see her again. She destroyed my dad.”

She nodded, and I drank more water that I didn’t really want, just to give myself a chance to get myself back together.

“So, when my dad died in the car accident, I felt like …it’s stupid.” I looked at her and then glanced down at my hands, which clenched at the water bottle desperately.

“Tell me, if you want to,” she invited, and her voice was soothing. I could tell she was a hell of a nurse—she had the caring act down.

No one was as sweet as she was pretending to be. I didn’t buy it. She might act like Pollyanna, but I didn’t think—not for a second—it could be genuine.

“I felt alone. Like I had to do everything on my own.” I sighed softly. “That’s why I didn’t go see my grandfather. I knew he was going to leave me, too, but now …”

For a second my voice cut out, and I had to wait for a second for it to come back before I could speak again.

That was weird.

My emotions that I kept in check were coming forward. I wasn’t sure I liked that.

She patted my thigh reassuringly. “That’s okay, David. I know it’s hard and it hurts. Please, go on.”

She was so fucking sweet and understanding that it made me crazy. “Now it’s true. I have no one, and it’s my fault.”

She had let go of my hand when she had reached to get a drink of her own bottle of water, but she took it again now, and I frowned a little bit.

What was up with this lady, anyway?

It was almost convincing. If I didn’t have a sort of instinctive distrust of women, I might have even believed she was as pure and sweet as she was trying to appear.

Those green eyes of hers—a man could drown in them. If he let himself …which I had no intention of doing.

Her fingers tightened around mine, and I had to fight to keep myself from showing a reaction. I had wondered what would happen if she didn’t fall for this act, but I didn’t think that was going to be an issue.

Not when I was pretty sure I’d figured out her game.

“Anyway,” I said, forcing a brave smile. “That’s all in the past. I’m doing okay now. I got through college and my tech business is doing better every year. I just …I guess I just wanted you to know why I was such a jerk to you.”

She gave my fingers one more gentle squeeze, then let go of them. My hand felt empty and odd. “No, I was glad to hear it. I’m glad you told me.”

Time to disarm her a little bit more. I looked deliberately around the small apartment and then spoke, as though hesitant. “You don’t need to live here anymore. You could move into grandpa’s house. It’s yours, isn’t it?”

I wanted her to think I was fine with her taking what my grandfather had left to her. Why not show that by gently pushing her to do it? If I played my cards right, soon she would not even remember how I’d reacted the day at the reading of the will.

Let her think I wasn’t even interested in the money. She would soon think it had just been the stress of losing someone I cared about that had caused it. It was even partially true. The money I cared about only insofar as it could help me get revenge on her, and, of course, I wanted it to really launch Black Tech into prominence.

“I didn’t think about that,” Kaye commented, and I could almost believe it. I thought she was probably just caught up in appearances. She didn’t want people to talk about her and say she was nothing but a femme fatale.

The gold digging, money-grubbing whore.

“You should move,” I repeated and rose to my feet. I’d done enough for one day, I figured. “And, if you’d like, I’d like to see you again.”

The more I thought about it, the surer I was. It didn’t make any sense at all that my grandfather would leave everything to her. Not unless she was very good at getting people to do what she wanted.

“So you think that she actually manipulated your grandfather into it?” Brent asked. I’d gone right to his house after leaving Kaye’s, with both of us promising to stay in touch. I thought she would probably even move like I’d suggested. That would be a good thing because I wasn’t sure I could stay in that teeny apartment without getting claustrophobic.

I was going to be seeing her quite a lot, after all.

“Yeah, I do. But it gets worse,” I said, looking at him gloomily. “I’m pretty damn sure she was setting her sights on my money next.”

“Oh my God. Are you serious?” Brent asked, and I thought back to the conversation, nodding my head emphatically.

“I’m serious and I’m sure.” I smirked a little. “She kept giving me these little looks, and she held my hand to show me how very sorry she was about my grandfather’s death.”

Brent winced sympathetically.

“Oh, God. Yeah. That sounds like she’s gold digging.” He shook his head. “There’s a reason I don’t have much to do with women. They’re all like that.”

I nodded. That had been my experience too. I’d never met a woman who didn’t try to get something out of me.

“Well, that’s good news for you, right?” Brent’s lips tugged up at the corners with his amusement. “I mean, she wants your money and she doesn’t know that you want hers. You have the upper hand there.”

I smirked right back at him and nodded. He was right, after all.

“She won’t know what hit her,” I agreed.

No, she wouldn’t. She had no doubt gotten my grandfather to fall prey to her charms. Maybe she’d found it so easy that she was going to go after me now. But there was a bit of a difference between a sick old man and someone like me, young and dominant, who was used to having things his way.

I had to wonder how many other men had fallen for her charms. My grandfather, definitely, but she was a nurse. She had access to all sorts of rich, old men.

But then why was she living in that tiny apartment?

Well, either this was the first time she’d tried it, or she was such a spendthrift that she went through money too fast and had to find a new sucker. Whatever the case was, I honestly didn’t really care that much.

The important thing was, I was on to her. She could throw her sweet, innocent, naive act around all she wanted. It was never going to fool me. I had never been the kind of man to be taken in by a woman, no matter how gorgeous she was.

She’d fooled my grandfather, but she would never fool me. Never, not in a million years. I promised myself that right then and there.

Kaye James might think she had another sucker on her line, but she would find out this wealthy man could fight back. She’d made a pretty critical mistake if she thought she could manipulate me like she had my grandfather and who knew how many other lonely men.

She would never have me.

I would give her every reason to think she’d convinced me of her sweetness—that I believed her act and had swallowed it hook, line, and sinker. I would keep on guarding my heart, as I had always done, and in the end, she’d end up with nothing.

It actually sort of pissed me off, thinking about what she’d done. She’d not only stolen from me, but she’d taken advantage of an old, dying man. This revenge was no longer just about the money.

It was personal, and while I had felt a little bit bad for her before, that was all swept away with righteous indignation now. Steal from a Black family member? Lie and misdirect us?

No way was I going to let her get away with that. I hoped she would suffer when I took everything from her.

It would be no more than what she deserved.

Vengeance would be sweet.

Chapter 5

Kaye

The whole story broke my heart.

I had known, somehow, that it was bad. I had known it from the moment Theodore had asked me to dial the phone for him. Strange to think it had only been about a week and a half ago.

It had actually hurt to listen to. After hearing everything David had been through, it was impossible for me to dislike him anymore.

Yes, he’d been scared, but he’d had good reason to be. He’d been so hurt. It all made so much more sense to me now.

The only thing I regretted from his visit was that I hadn’t been able to talk with him about whether he’d be interested in taking half of the money. I hadn’t expected him to show up at my house and my cold had kept me from thinking straight about the whole thing.

Maybe I’d see him again, though. He’d asked me to, and I liked the idea. Much more than I expected to.

“Earth to Kaye,” the laughing voice of one of my friends from work, a lovely lady with golden skin and laughing black eyes named Joan, called out. She was the one I was closest to at work.

There were five of us, including myself and Joan. We were all nurses and all on our lunch break at a local restaurant. This was something we often did, and for me, it was some of the only social time I got.

It was hard to be a nurse. The hours were long and it could be hell on relationships. The only person who could really understand a nurse, I firmly believed, was another nurse.

“Sorry.” I blushed, sort of hating myself for it. I didn’t usually blush, but I’d gotten caught thinking about David again.

David. I had misjudged him so horribly. Luckily, he didn’t seem to hold it against me.

“Oh my God,” one of the other nurses, Angela, spoke up next. “You met someone! Finally!”

To my embarrassment and their amusement, I colored up even more. I’d been around girl talk before, of course, but I’d never been the subject of it. More of an outsider, listening in.

“No, it’s nothing like that,” I protested, but I could see they weren’t buying it. And it wasn’t the way they were thinking. The situation was far too complex, but knowing they would bother me until I told them, I started to talk.

I told them about the money, about how it had all been left to me, and about how I didn’t even know what to do about it. I told them everything, right up until the day David had stormed out of the lawyer’s office.

It was good to say it all. Get it all out of my head. I could trust these women, each and every single one of them, and I knew that. As I was slowly processing the whole situation, it definitely felt nice to say the words and to know I had their support.

They weren’t as excited as I would have thought, though. Oh, they were happy for me and I could tell it was genuine, but honestly, they seemed more worried about David than I would have thought.

“So he calls you names, storms off, and then comes back later? What stopped him from being upset over the money in the meantime?” Joan asked, her voice strangely cautious.

“No, no. It wasn’t like that. I know what you’re thinking—that he’s just after the money, but …” I forced a deep breath into my lungs. How to explain to them? I didn’t want them disliking David for any reason, not with everything he’d already been through. “He doesn’t even seem to want the money.”

I saw four sets of skeptical eyes fixed on me and four pairs of eyebrows raised, and I knew none of them believed that it was possible.

“He’s been through so much.” I could hear the passion in my own voice, and I just had to hope they would hear it too and believe me. “His mom left him, his dad died, and then his grandpa passed too. He has no one.”

The four other women exchanged glances, and Angela was the one who finally broke the silence. “He was so terrible to you. Why is he suddenly being so nice? Your heart is so big, but maybe sometimes it wouldn’t kill you to not think the best of people all of the time.”

I bit my lower lip. What they were saying made sense, but somehow, I didn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe David was lying. Not unless he was a far better liar than anyone I’d ever met before.

“He doesn’t need the money. He’s gorgeous, young, and he’s already wealthy.”

All of the girls sat up to take notice of my comment and I winced. I’d said just a little bit too much and there was no way I was going to get away without being thoroughly grilled.

“You’re talking like you have a thing for him.” Joan’s eyes were curious, but I wasn’t sure I liked the look in her eyes. She still seemed so suspicious. They all were and nothing I was saying was helping them.

“That’s not what I meant!” Or was it? I had to admit, if only to myself, I had been awfully drawn to the guy. But that didn’t change the fact that I did believe him. I’d never been the kind of girl to be drawn in by a handsome face or a strong body before, so it wasn’t that.

Letting out a sigh, I knew I had to just sit there and wish my friends could trust me. What bad judgment had I shown before? I had the sense it would just make it worse if they thought I was defending him, so I stayed quiet, frustrated and helpless to make them understand.

“We care about you,” Angela said, and I felt myself softening a bit, the frustration and helplessness fading a little. “That’s why we’re worried. This guy, he’s acting a bit weird. You have to admit that. Maybe it’s what you say, maybe it’s something different, but …”

Joan broke in. “Just try to be careful.”

Because it would make them feel better, I nodded. I honestly didn’t think there was any reason to be careful, though. Maybe they could see that in my eyes.

“What if he’s after the money? We all know how rich people can get. They want more and more money and nothing is ever enough.”

I had to grant Angela that, but Theodore hadn’t been like that. I had hope David wasn’t either. No, he wasn’t. He hadn’t even mentioned the money.

“He said I should move into his grandfather’s old house. He was worried because my apartment was so small,” I remembered. “There’s no way he’s after the money if that’s what you think.”

Why would he be trying to get me to accept my inheritance if he just wanted to take it from me? No, I didn’t buy it. David’s story made complete sense to me and he’d apologized profusely for everything he’d done to me. I’d been able to feel his remorse for the whole situation.

The man had wasted twelve years, after all. Of course he was upset about that. Anyone would be. My friends were good, sweet, caring people, but they were letting their own suspicious minds get in the way.

I knew they’d all been hurt by men before. I knew it because I’d heard them talking about it. Of the four of them, only one was married, and Joan and Angela were both divorced.

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Angela held her hands up in surrender, laughing a little bit. “You’ve got it bad for this guy. It’s fine. And you’ve got us to watch your back, right? So it’s all good.”

She seemed satisfied and so did the other two women, who I didn’t know all that well.

Something in Joan’s eyes, though, said she didn’t seem to feel the same way. On the surface, it was all fine. Joan dropped the subject and the conversation moved on, though every so often one of the four other women would shoot me a bit of a look.

It was a lot to take, I knew that. Not only the whole thing with David, either, but just the fact that I’d gotten so much money. I hadn’t even tossed any figures around—I was too cautious for that—but they were still worried for me.

The whole David issue was a big part of the problem. I even understood why. If someone had told me everything that had happened, I would have thought there was a pretty good chance they were going to get themselves into trouble too.

David wasn’t like that, though. David had opened up to me. He’d shown me sides of himself I somehow knew he didn’t show to most people. These four women were good people, but they didn’t know him.

Somehow, I felt like I did know him. At least a little. Enough to be sure that he was not the monster I’d sort of thought he was when I’d first learned about him. He had reasons for everything he’d done.

What really got to me was how badly he felt about all of it. He’d made a terrible mistake, and I knew he was paying for it. He would keep paying for it. I wasn’t sure he would ever forgive himself.

Maybe I was just the woman who had nursed his grandfather, but I figured if I could forgive him, it was a start. Maybe it could get him to the point where, someday, he could forgive himself.

I would help him. And I would get to spend time with him too. My motives were pure, of course, but I would admit I enjoyed being around him. Not just because he was handsome—though he was—but also just because of the person he was inside.

He’d shown me that person. He’d become vulnerable for me, and I had already made the decision. It didn’t really matter what my girlfriends thought. I valued their opinion, but I would make my own choices.

I was going to be friends with David Black if he would let me. It seemed to me like he needed a friend, maybe more than anyone else I’d ever met.

If he wanted me, he could have me. As a friend. And I definitely hoped he did.

When I’d held his hand, it had sent little shots of electricity through me. He and I had some kind of a connection. Maybe it was because we both cared deeply about the same man. Or maybe it was something else altogether.

Whatever it was, I wanted to see it through. And I had hope that he would too.

David

When I remembered the night Brent and I had made this plan, the one thing that stuck out in my mind was how open I’d been and how honest I was with the alcohol in my system. How I’d said things I normally wouldn’t have said, just because the beers had taken my inhibitions away.

Why not use that?

I knew from texting with Kaye, as I had started doing now and then, that she had taken my advice and moved into my grandfather’s old house. It burned me up inside to think of her living there. The woman who had, the way I saw it, essentially robbed my grandfather.

It did mean, though, that I knew where to go to find her. After impatiently waiting a few days, I put the next part of my plan into motion.

It was a balancing act, deciding on timing. I wanted to act quickly enough to keep her interest, but not so quickly that it would seem strange. Still, I wanted her safely married to me by the time my grandfather’s estate was settled.

From the research I’d done, it could be as soon as six months, especially since I had no intention of contesting the will. My grandfather had paid someone to act as the executor, and I would let him do his job without the slightest hint of protest.

I had a much more sure-fire way to get the money, after all. Why get involved in a nasty fight I had no chance of winning?

Still, it was time to get a move on, which is why I drank one beer. Just one, so I would smell and taste like it.

Staggering up the walkway to the house, I let my eyes blur. Leaning carefully against the side of the house, as though I could barely stay on my own feet, I knocked on the door. I closed my eyes and bowed my head, as though it were almost too heavy for me to hold up.

It was night time, but only just. The sun had gone down about an hour ago, so I knew there was a good chance she would be awake.

“David?” She pulled the door open and those remarkable green eyes of hers widened as she looked me over. “David, are you okay? Come in. Are you sick?”

“No.” I let my words slur a little bit and pushed myself away from the wall, acting as if it was all too much for me and collapsing back against it. “Sorry for bothering you.”

The woman had quite the caring nurse act going, and I was willing to bet she wouldn’t let that slip. It was possible that she even did feel sorry for me. I was doing everything I could to be pitiful, and when I felt her arm slip around my waist, I knew I was doing it well.

“It’s grandpa,” I whispered, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and leaning on her just enough to make my story plausible. This close, surely she could smell the beer. She smelled like coconut and fruit, and damned if she didn’t smell good enough to eat.

Whoa.

I wasn’t there to fall for her charms. What did it matter what she smelled like?

“Come on,” she said, and she even supported my weight better than I would have expected. I outweighed her, but she was strong. Of course, she was a nurse, so that was hardly surprising.

“I’m such an idiot,” I moaned, and it was actually pretty easy to put sadness and regret into my voice. I felt them. Part of why I was so determined to bring Kaye to justice was because I hated how she had taken advantage of my grandfather. The money was only part of it, but not the biggest part.

I hadn’t served my grandfather well in life so I would serve him now.

“No, you’re not.” Kaye helped me to the couch and eased me down gently onto it. “Please don’t say things like that, David. You’ve made mistakes, but we all have.”

I knew it. I knew that for her Mary Sunshine act to work, she was going to have to comfort me. I had to applaud her, though. She belonged in Hollywood, because even though I knew her game, I was hard pressed to find any signs of insincerity.

“I wish I had him back,” I whispered, and it was true. So very true that it was no problem to put sadness into my voice.

“David, I’m so sorry.” Kaye leaned forward and wrapped her arms around me. The softness of her full breasts pressed sweetly against my arm, and I felt a throbbing heat start to build through my body, focused on my cock and balls.

Oh, she was good. She made me want her just by hugging me. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought this was all completely sincere. It really seemed like all she was doing was comforting me, but the way her gorgeous, soft tits pushed against me couldn’t be accidental.

Well, I had come to deepen the relationship between us, right? So why not ‘let’ her seduce me? It would give her a sense of power. Normally that would irritate me—I wanted to be the one in control of things, always. But for my purposes, I’d allow her to think she had the upper hand.

Letting a gorgeous woman try to get me into bed was a sacrifice I could willingly make.

So I did the only logical thing. I wrapped my arm around her slender waist, tugged her into my lap, and kissed her.

For just a second her lips parted, and I tasted not only her sweetness but also victory. I’d won. She doubtless felt like she was the one who had trapped me, but it was the other way around.

Then I realized something. She was pulling away, her jade eyes wide and her hand rising to cover her lips as though protecting them. She hadn’t kissed me back. The way her pretty lips had parted, it was entirely because of her surprise.

The whole thing was over in half a second. Maybe less.

“What’s wrong?” I slurred, glad that I’d thought to act drunk. It was all about the deniability. I could so easily say I had only been acting this way because of the booze. It had also made her feel sorry for me, so it was a good plan all around.

Kaye still had the slender, beautiful fingers of her own hand pressed against her full lips.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to make you think that …I don’t do that.”

I frowned a little bit. That reaction wasn’t what I had expected. I’d thought she would be eager for it—that she would see it as a way to further ensnare me.

Could it be an act?

I looked at her thoughtfully, only barely remembering to keep my own drunk act in place.

“What do you mean? You don’t do what?”

I had to be misunderstanding her. How else did she always get what she wanted, if not by using that gorgeous body of hers? I stared at her and watched as she bit her full lower lip, worrying at it with even, white teeth.

How was it that even her damn teeth were beautiful? How was that even possible?

“I don’t …I’ve never …” She struggled with the words a little, and I watched with dawning understanding, and, yes, surprise. I already knew she was a good actor, but she wasn’t faking this. I was sure of it.

I made her say it. I am and have always been at least a little bit of a sadist, and even though I was fairly sure what she was going to say, I still wanted to hear the words, to see the blush on her cheeks, and to watch the way she worried at her lips.

It was so damn sexy, it should be illegal. Not that I was being drawn in, because I wasn’t.

I wasn’t, damn it.

“I won’t have sex with you.”

When she finally managed to say it, her tone was very firm. It stayed firm as she continued on.

“I’m a virgin. I’ve never had sex, and I’m not about to start now.”

Oh, God. She was a virgin. For some reason, I believed that even though I didn’t believe most of what she said. There was a sort of defiance in the way she said it—like she expected me to laugh at her—that made me sure she was telling the truth.

“Never?” I asked, and I tried not to think too much about what that meant. No one had ever touched her. No one had ever parted her smooth, firm thighs and slid deep inside the very center of her being.

She shook her head, and I had to take a second to clear my mind—to really fully comprehend what she was saying.

She was younger than me, I knew that much. She couldn’t be older than twenty-six or maybe twenty-seven at the most. Still, how many virgins were there at that age? Not to mention how utterly delectable she was.

If she really was untouched, I knew it had to be by her own choice.

“You’ve never done anything?” I looked at her, trying to figure out how this could be true. It hardly fit in with the image I had of her in my mind, a man-eating succubus out to get whatever she wanted. However she could.

“No. I’ve never been touched like that,” she admitted, her chin tilted proudly high, that hint of defiance still there in her voice and in her pretty eyes. “Not by anyone.”

Including herself. She didn’t have to say it, but I knew it was true. She’d never even had her own hands on her sexy, tight, little body.

Was she a prude?

It was possible, but I didn’t think so. I thought, somewhere deep down inside, in a place she didn’t even acknowledge at all, she was wound up tighter than anyone I’d ever met.

The idea thrilled me. What would it be like to be the one who finally released all of that tension trapped within her? What would she give to the man who managed to get through to her?

I was doing this just for the money and the revenge for taking advantage of my dying grandfather, I told myself firmly. But as I got to know her more, that was getting harder to keep in mind.

If I wanted to be completely honest with myself, which I wasn’t sure I did, it was more than the money. I wanted to be her first. I wanted to create that impression on her.

It wasn’t part of the plan. In my mind, bedding her had been nothing more than a pleasant way to make her think the marriage was real when I’d been drunkenly planning all of this with Brent.

That was all changing, and I wasn’t sure I could keep up. Not without losing myself.

* * *

Chapter 6

Kaye

My confession hung between us in the complete and utter silence, and I had to sort of kick myself for my own words. Why had I told David that? Why would I tell him the secret that I had kept to myself for so long?

The truth was, I had never told anyone I was untouched. Most of the people I knew had a much more casual attitude toward sex than I did. Everyone had always assumed, at least as far as I knew, that I was the same way as everyone else. After all, how many virgins of my age could there possibly be in the world?

It was so much easier to just let everyone assume what they naturally would. I knew the truth, and I had always found it was enough for me to know the truth.

For the first time, I had told someone else. I held my breath, waiting for him to respond. I could tell he was shocked, and I had to wonder if he would be disgusted by what I had disclosed to him.

Maybe he would just walk out. I wasn’t even sure I could blame him if he did. How pathetic did I have to seem to him?

I had had offers, but not as many as people sometimes assumed. I had deliberately kept myself busy. I’d never really wanted to date, not until the time was right.

It never had been.

So why did I tell him?

I had no idea. There was just something about him. It pulled at me like nothing else ever had. I had been attracted to men before, but it had never hit me this hard.

It had been threatening to rain all day, and all of a sudden, it hit. A blast of wind hit the side of the house as if summoned out of nowhere, and seconds later, the wind started to patter against the windows.

It wasn’t just rain and wind, either. I jumped a little bit as a flash of lightning visibly lit up the sky outside of the mansion and strange shadows danced on the wall. A very short time later, it was followed by the sharp crack of thunder.

This place didn’t quite feel like my home yet. Those shadows weren’t familiar to me at all. I gave a cry of fear, which I sort of hated myself for. I had nerves of steel and could deal with most things, but for some reason, storms freaked me out.

“Are you okay?” he asked, taking a step toward me. I was still waiting for him to just make his excuses and leave, but instead he reached out and touched my shoulder. It felt good.

Far too good.

I had never been as interested in anyone as I was in him. I’d started off disliking him, but something else was going on here. I didn’t quite know what it was yet, but something in me yearned for him.

“Yes.” Even though I tried to sound brave, my voice trembled, and I forced a deep breath into my lungs to try to calm myself. I tried to steady myself before speaking again. “I'm all right.”

And, then, just like that, he was right there. I was in his arms, and he was holding me, secure and warm and safe. When the lightning flashed and the thunder roared again, I didn’t jump quite as much as I had the first time.

A smaller house would be shaking with the fury of the sudden storm, I was sure of it. The mansion stood solidly, just as David did, and I let myself just cling to him. I’d never been the type to accept comfort from other people, but from him it somehow seemed okay.

His hand moved slowly down my arm, then took my hand in his. “You’re shaking,” David commented, as he gazed down into my eyes. “I don’t think you’re okay.” He moved his other hand up and down my arm to warm me.

I couldn’t even deny it. I hadn’t known I was shaking, but when he said it, I realized he was right. I was trembling in his arms. What can I say? It had been a rough time for me, and I was a little overwrought to say the least. “I’ll be …”

“Shh.” He stroked my hair, and I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had tried to soothe me. I was the nurse. I was the one who took care of others, not the one who was cared for.

It felt strange, but I liked it more than I would have expected.

And then, of all things, he was sweeping me up into his arms and actually carrying me, bridal style, steady and sure as he walked up the mahogany staircase. He walked like he belonged there, and I realized he had probably spent a lot of time here when he was younger.

It felt more like his place than mine, and for once in my life I just relaxed and let myself be taken care of. I spoke only once, to direct him to the room I had taken for my own, but otherwise I just looped my arms around his neck and enjoyed his scent.

I enjoyed it just a little bit too much, actually.

When we got to my room, he put me gently down on the king-sized bed, and when he settled down with me, it was a relief. Maybe I would have protested, but right as we got settled in there was another peal of thunder and I found myself honestly just glad to have him there.

The floor-to-ceiling windows in the bedroom brought the outdoors in. Sheer, pale blue curtains did little to hide the fact that a storm was raging just beyond the window panes. A flash of lightning lit up the whole room. It was a large room—larger than my own home had been. I didn’t even flinch when the thunder came. I was safe in David’s arms. It seemed like nothing could hurt me when I was with him.

“There’s something about you, Kaye,” he whispered, and there was a touch of vulnerability in his voice—the same exact tone as when he’d told me about his tragic life. Something tugged at my heart, unlike anything I had ever experienced.

“What do you mean?” I asked, wrapped around him, my heart still beating fast in my chest. Outside, the storm raged on, but it had less importance to me. I was lying in a bed with a man for the first time. That trumped any storm.

“I don’t know.” His voice was a sexy, thoughtful little murmur, and despite my fear of being alone with him and in a bed, it sent strange little shivers down my spine. It was usually so easy for me to ignore my attraction to men, but with him it wasn’t quite as simple. “I just know I can’t seem to stop wanting to be around you.”

I closed my eyes, and not because of the storm this time. There was this warmth growing inside of me, something thrilling and exasperating and also somehow so damn right. I couldn’t think of any better way to put it, even to myself. The man who held me in his arms had awakened something inside of me no man ever had before.