Charles was waiting for me right outside the double doors. Bastard knew me a little too well.

“Did my father send you to find me?”

Chuck cocked his scarred brow. To this day he refused to tell me how he got it. “Who else would?”

“And how the hell did you track me down exactly?”

He winked. “Cute girl at the reception desk.”

“Ah, I see. Well, let’s get back. It’s a bit early in the evening to lose you in a coat closet with the front-desk girl.”

While we walked in the direction of the ballroom, Chuck yammered on about some client he was trying to close, but his words quickly transformed into a dull hum. My mind was elsewhere. How could I have let myself lose control with Eden? Damn her! She was a shameless, hotheaded tease, whether she meant to be or not.

When I’d seen her earlier in the ballroom, standing there alone in her lacy black and gold gown with those big blue eyes twinkling under the lights, I nearly lost it. Her eyes . . . Christ. A deep sapphire that faded to ice towards their center, they nearly had me on my knees. I could swim in those irises if she’d let me.

Eden had been an enigma since the moment we’d first met six years ago at the Fontainebleau in Miami. She existed in a class all her own. Her porcelain skin, long, wavy, raven-black hair, and full, pouty lips were no match for her sharp sass.

Chuck waved his hand in my face. “Jameson? What’s with you tonight?”

“Nothing.” I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry as a desert. “You were saying?”

“You, my friend, need another drink,” he said in his usual half-joking way.

I peeked back down the hall, spotting Eden emerging from the conference room at the end. She walked toward us, the fabric of her dress swaying around her hips in a deliciously tantalizing motion. She had managed to reapply lipstick and once again looked every bit the sophisticated executive despite the fact I had just pressed her up against the wall at a charity event. I was seriously fucking losing it.

What is wrong with you?

Why the hell was she so good at this? I’d spent my fair share of nights with women—simple, easy, straightforward women who were nothing like Eden. With her, I never knew what I was up against. One minute she was a ball of fury, and the next she was craving me with the deepest ferocity I’d ever known.

I recalled the night we snuck off to Toronto. Eden was there on a work trip, and I flew in on the pretense of meeting a potential buyer for our Ganzavort property.

It had been two weeks since I’d last seen her, and I sat on the plane fidgeting like a school boy about to do the deed for the first time. I gripped the velvet jewelry box the entire flight.

Upon arrival, I took in the hotel’s sleek, urban appearance. The Sky International Hotel & Tower was a spectacle with its polished, well-designed architecture. I made my way to the front desk, squeezing the box in my pocket. Wanting Eden all to myself for however long she’d allow it, I’d booked the Sky’s penthouse suite on an impulse.

A chirp came from my breast pocket and I pulled out my cell. Eden. Her message stated she’d see me in my room after her meeting at seven.

One more tortuous hour. Damn her.

I paced back and forth, scowling at my watch. It was a quarter past and still no sign of her. Almost an hour later, I heard the familiar key card slide into the door. Eden waltzed into the suite—self-assured, no hesitations or second thoughts—and waved her key card like a white flag. “I’m here.”

Her cobalt dress hugged her curves, her hair fell in inky black waves past her shoulders, and her heels highlighted her toned legs. The sight of her spiked my pulse, and my cock twitched.

“You’ve kept me waiting.”

“Oops.” She bit the tip of her finger suggestively. “There goes rule number eleven.”

I was settled on the bed, my back against the tufted headboard. Seductive and sweet, she was also a teasing brat, but I loved it. “Number eleven, huh?”

She dropped her purse on the floor near the door of the bedroom and slipped off her pumps.

“And you wore that to your meeting,” I said, pointing at her dress. “I’m skeptical your client was able to focus on anything at dinner.”

She shot me a suggestive glance, batting her lashes. “I wore it for you.”

I placed both palms behind my head and let my eyes roam over Eden’s body. “Come here.”

Without skipping a beat, she pranced over, waves of eagerness rolling off of her like shore breaks in a storm. She craved this—possibly more than I did.

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip. “Would you like me to remove my dress?” She dropped one strap in that teasing little way I loved.

“No. Take off only your panties.”

Eden slid them down her thighs, past her knees. Bunching them in her hand, she smirked, then threw them at me. “And now?”

I caught them, lifting them to eye level. “Now, princess, you will go downstairs to the restaurant and order us dinner.”

She pursed her lips. “But—”

“But nothing. You were late. So instead of spanking your fine ass, which is more pleasure than punishment for you, I’ve put my creativity to good use. I came up with a few new ideas to reprimand you.”

She pouted. “This isn’t hot.”

“When you get into the elevator, the cool air will brush your bare ass beneath that dress. While you walk your lips will rub as you take each stride. At the bar when you sit to order, all you’ll be able to focus on is how the cold leather feels on your naked skin, and you’ll wish I were there to lick your already wet pussy.”

I waited for her to say something more, but she merely gaped at me, wide-eyed. “So,” I added, “is that hot enough for you?”

Eden moaned. Her cheeks flushed. “Yes,” she replied in a hoarse voice.

“Make it quick.”

She turned, put her heels back on, and leaped straight for the door. “What do I get if I make it back up here without getting wet?”

I chuckled. “Too bad you’re already soaked,” I called after her.

She didn’t deny it, and her lip biting was obvious proof she was enjoying our game more than she’d ever admit. Before she left the suite, she yelled from the seating area, “Why can’t we just order room service again . . . sir?”

The subtle way she enunciated “sir” was no doubt on purpose. I sucked in a breath, reminding myself the few extra minutes were worth the wait. “Because this is far more fun, and I want you ready for me. Now go.”

“Chicken then?”

“Your choice.”

When the door shut, I called the restaurant. Frank, the man who answered the phone, remembered me from earlier. I told him Eden was headed down and to give her the package I left. He quickly reassured me not to worry. Then I walked into the designated living room area and started a fire.

Twenty minutes later, I heard the key card before the handle turned. Eden gripped the package firmly between her hands as she walked in. Her eyes bored into me like I was the last Godiva truffle on earth.

After placing the box on the coffee table, she scanned my face for approval. “I wasn’t sure if it was safe to open it down there, so I didn’t.”

“Open it now.” I sat, forearms on my thighs, my heart thudding so hard I thought I’d swallow it.

Eden grabbed a pillow off the couch, threw it on the ground near the table, and knelt. Peeling back the paper deliberately, she inhaled sharply. She lifted open the box top and her eyes lit up. “When did you . . .?”

“Do you like it?”

Her head bobbed. “It’s the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever—but how did you find time?”

“I have ways.”

“This is too much.”

I reached for her hands. “I found it for you. I didn’t want just any old piece of jewelry. This is us. And when you wear it I want you to remember I’m always thinking of you.”

“Jameson . . .”

I took the three entwined platinum bands from the box, ran my thumb over the raised ropes, and placed it over her wrist. “Just say thank you and stop asking questions.”

She touched the diamond x’s across the top. I could see the gears rotating in her mind, thinking about what it meant. She locked eyes with me. “I don’t know how or why, but thank you.”

“It’s ropes. You’re tied to me, Eden, and I’m not letting go.”

“We still can’t tell anyone. If even a single person finds out . . .” She shook her head, not saying anything else for a few moments. Then finally she peered up at me.

“No one is going to find out, Eden. What we do is our business.”

She smiled, fingering the bracelet. “Who are you? And where have they taken Jameson?”

I smirked back at her. “That guy, well they locked him up. I’m his replacement . . . just your friendly neighborhood Spiderman.”

“You’re a dork,” she giggled. “I love it. Thank you.”

I licked my lips. “Now, princess. Take everything off except the bracelet.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, running a finger over her mouth.

We stayed locked in the suite for two whole days. Wrapped up in each other, not ready to leave the bubble. Our getaway to Toronto was a month before our New York conference trip, when we’d nearly been caught by her boss. Eden had worked herself into a full-on panic and said she could never have a future with a man like me, not to mention that her company would assume she’d been spying for WSquared.

It still amazed me how a single moment could change everything.

Snapping back from my daydream, I saw Eden out of the corner of my eye, headed down the hall toward the ballroom. Charles stopped me when we approached the doors and mouthed, “Was she in the conference room with you?”

I gave him a tight-lipped glare. “No. She was not in there with me, Chuck.”

He snorted, opening the door. “I hope you know what’s at stake here. Don’t fuck up. You ready for this auction or what?”

I bit out a quick “Yes.”

We were a few feet away from the table when he halted. “I want you to be sure. I know crossing your father isn’t something you take lightly.”

I squeezed his shoulder. “I have to do this. I’m sure. It’s me or him, and I won’t let him take me or this company down. Once it’s done he can rot for all I care. Nothing will change my mind.”

“Not even her?” he said under his breath.

“Not even her.”

He slapped my back. “Let’s do this.”