“Goddamn.” Bran pressed his fingers to his forehead. He’d called the Tech Banquet CEO and explained the situation. Told the guy it had been too long and they needed to bring in an outside consultant to resolve the software issues.

And the man had agreed.

Had Bran and his brothers not already invested a small fortune in the upgrade, Bran would have scrapped the entire project or found a different company to provide the service. But there was no turning back now.

Ireland came highly recommended. According to everything Bran had heard, she could work for any company in the US. It was either good luck she’d moved to Lake Tahoe to be closer to her cousin or terrible luck, depending on how one viewed the situation.

Bran lifted his head and nudged the sheet of paper in front of him. Cali had pilfered Ireland’s résumé and sent it to him, and it was impressive. Half the programming languages she was fluent in he’d never heard of, but one thing was clear. Ireland would be able to help Club Tahoe.

Which meant Bran was bringing on Ireland, whether he personally wanted to or not. That was, if Ireland agreed.

The only conditions the CEO required were a quick background check and human resources forms for Ireland to fill out. Which meant there was only one thing left to do.

Bran stretched his arms above his head and flexed his twined finger, his knuckles popping. He picked up the phone and dialed the number on the sheet in front of him.

“Hello?”

His throat constricted. What was it about this woman? Even her velvety, light voice made his body tense. “Ireland, it’s Bran Cade. Do you have a moment?”

“S-sure.”

There was the stutter. He was making her nervous. He was making himself nervous. “I’d like to hire you to help Club Tahoe with the software issues we discussed the other night. If you’re no longer interested—”

“I’m interested.” Her words came out quickly, and she cleared her throat. “Blue Casino is giving me flex time to consult on the side.”

“Oh. Okay.” Was that normal?

Bran shook his head. Didn’t matter. All that mattered was fixing the disaster of a project he’d insisted would be good for the resort.

Bran forwarded paperwork to the email address Ireland provided. And twenty-four hours later, Ireland was hired.

To work with Bran. Closely in the evenings…

God help him.

Ireland strode through the front door of Prime the next night, and Bran slowly let out a breath. She wore fitted black pants and a light blue silk top that buttoned all the way to her throat, revealing nothing at all. And yet she stole his breath.

Ireland stirred Bran’s most basic instincts, whether she was yelling at him or making soft sounds when he kissed her. He’d lost his senses the day on the boat, his hands wandering—against his will—across every tantalizing curve within reach.

Until she’d shoved him away.

Smart girl.

He couldn’t be trusted around her. But the club and his brothers depended on him doing just that.

This was a terrible idea.

Bran walked across the restaurant and stopped near the entrance, maintaining a safe distance. “You found Prime okay?”

Club Tahoe was shaped like a T from the back of the hotel. There were shops, restaurants, and the casino that took up the lower level, all hidden from the club’s austere entrance.

“Yes, no problem at all.” She looked at him expectantly.

He was staring. Which he needed to stop. Bran blinked and gestured toward the bar. “Can I get you something to drink before we begin?”

Ireland’s gaze ran along the ceiling, which boasted the same cut glass as the bar, gold accents making it a showstopper and giving the room a reflective element. “Water, please. This place is beautiful.”

Bran rounded the counter and poured water from the bar gun. “My father was a perfectionist. He spared no expense when it came to Prime.”

Her forehead furrowed and she looked at him intently. “I don’t think I ever said so, but I’m sorry for your loss.”

Bran’s fist clenched. It had been over a year since his father passed, and still the anger, frustration, and pain ran fresh. He’d never made things right with his father, and for that, he’d live with regrets.

“Thank you.” He gestured to the back room, needing the distraction. “Why don’t I show you where the computers are set up for the online ordering?”

Ireland nodded, and Bran escorted her to the back, explaining the problems they’d been having. There were no tabletop tablets at Prime, given the upscale nature of the place, but he’d brought a tablet from one of the other restaurants to give Ireland a demonstration of how they worked. When they worked.

She shook her head. “This is basic software and electronics. Why hasn’t the company you purchased it from resolved the problem?”

The restaurant’s new technology was top of the line in food services. Or it was supposed to be.

Bran glanced up and caught sight of James entering the restaurant. “Here’s the man you should address that question to. Maybe the company’s programmer can explain it, because I certainly can’t.”

Ireland looked at James and bit the corner of her lip. “I work best alone…but I understand they’d want their programmer present.”

“Is that what he is?” Bran grumbled. “Seems like all he does is drink my diet soda and chat online. But what do I know?” He gave her a sardonic smile.

Ireland’s eyelids fluttered behind the sexy glasses she wore, her gaze dropping to Bran’s mouth.

His smile fell. Keep it together. She wasn’t thinking about the kiss—kisses. That was all in his head.

Ireland cleared her throat. “I’ll fix it, no problem.”

They were the exact words he’d needed to hear, yet that wasn’t what he focused on. His gaze lasered in on her full lips. Lips he’d kissed mere days ago… And wouldn’t be kissing again.

He ground his teeth. “I trust you.”

He didn’t trust himself.

They walked toward the table where James had set up a temporary office. James, meanwhile, scoped out Ireland’s chest as they approached.

Bran took a calming breath. Fucking tech. Bran knew he didn’t like James. Sure, Bran had just been admiring Ireland’s lips, and other things, but he respected her.

Wait, did he respect her?

Damn the software. If it wasn’t for the problems they’d been having in the restaurants, Bran wouldn’t need to ask himself these questions. He’d be keeping his distance from Ireland, not testing his willpower.

Ireland was a beautiful woman, and extremely sexy with her bright red hair and knockout figure. Few men would be able to hold back a double take. But Bran wanted to strangle James. And he couldn’t tell if it was because he didn’t trust the guy, or because he didn’t like anyone checking her out. The latter was more disturbing.

“This is Ireland, the new software consultant,” Bran said. “She’ll be assisting you with the glitches.”

A twitch started up at the corner of James’s grinning mouth.

Nope. James didn’t like Ireland coming in one bit. Too bad. He should have thought about that before he wasted the club’s time.

Ireland rushed right into interrogation mode about the nature of the problem, and Bran took great pleasure in watching James squirm. His body was tense, but he rattled off a general description of what had been going on. And then the two of them started talking internet coding, and Bran’s eyes glazed over.

“I’m going to let you get to it,” Bran said, and walked away, a weight lifting off his shoulders. Which was strange. Typically, Ireland caused him stress. But the grilling she was unleashing on James was extremely hot and reassuring at the same time.

Bran grinned. Words like “have you done this” and “what about that” floated across the nearly empty room as Ireland questioned James over the next half-hour while Bran covertly listened from his position at the bar. James’s face turned red, and he appeared to be stammering to keep up. The image was priceless.

Ireland could conceivably save Bran’s sorry ass, and that was something he would have to consider later. Because if she got the system up and running, he’d be indebted to her.

And Bran wasn’t used to owing women.

The women he’d been intimate with hadn’t been one-night stands, per se, more like casual friends with benefits. And those women had been fine when he stopped calling.

At least, he’d assumed they’d been fine…

His mouth twisted. If there was one thing Bran was sure of, it was that Ireland would rake his ass over the coals for being inconsiderate. Or maybe it was as simple as him caring whether she’d be upset.

Shit.

Enough introspection. He tossed a rag beneath the counter. He’d be happy once she wasn’t working for Club Tahoe anymore. She wasn’t good for his conscience.