Chapter 1

IT WAS A butt-dialing disaster of epic proportions.

It happened as Lacey scrambled to gather the last of her belongings from the hotel room. She’d said goodbye to her boss an hour earlier after wrapping up with their Chicago client, and he’d wished her luck, assuring her once again that she was ready to handle a client on her own.

Lacey sucked in a deep breath. Not just any client. Newsom Industries was one of the biggest clients her firm had ever landed. It was only out of sheer luck that all of the other consultants were already booked and the plum job had landed in her lap. “You’re ready for this,” she muttered to herself.

Her boss’s parting words had become a sort of mantra as she threw her belongings into her luggage. “You’re ready for this. You’re ready for this.”

And then it happened.

While leaning over to pick up a pair of undies, she somehow managed to sideswipe her phone. She grabbed it out of her back pocket and stared in horror as the screen lit up with Lawrence Newsom’s name.

Lawrence Newsom III, as in the grandson of Lawrence Newsom, Sr., and the heir apparent to his family’s private jet empire. As in, her next client.

She moved to hit the “end call” button, but she was a second too late. A deep voice on the other end said “Hello?” just before her finger hit its mark and the phone was silenced.

Oh God. She’d hung up on him.

Which was worse, butt dialing your new client or hanging up on him?

Lacey debated calling him to apologize. No, that would make things worse. She’d just forget about it; he would never know it was her. She went to turn off the offensive piece of technology when it happened.

She did it again. One of her fingers barely grazed the screen—the stupid, overly sensitive screen that was now lighting up again. She jabbed the “end call” button.

Why had she let her roommate talk her into buying a new phone? Her old one was a piece of junk, but it never ever became possessed by the devil, unlike this new device.

Tentatively, and with the utmost care, she reached over to turn off the phone and stick it in her bag. For a moment she thought she’d willed the phone to ring. But no, someone was calling her. He was calling.

Maybe he knew it was her. Maybe they’d given him her cell number as well, and he’d programmed it into his phone. Unlikely.

Maybe she should answer—explain the situation. She grimaced at the thought of such a terrible first impression. No, she would just let it go. Ignore, ignore, ignore.

But as the phone’s ringtone pierced the air for a third time, panic set in. One more ring and her voicemail would pick up. He’d hear her chipper message saying, “Hi, you’ve reached Lacey Ames.”

He’d know it was her; she had to pick up. She hit the answer button and opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. What was she going to say?

She drew in a deep breath, but he spoke first.

“Hello? Who is this?”

Lacey’s mouth opened and closed as she struggled to come up with something—anything—to put an end to this call.

He sounded impatient when he spoke again. “I know you’re there, I can hear you breathing.”

Something like a squeak came out of her throat before she fumbled for the off button. She was panting as though she’d run a marathon.

Now is not the time to panic. Think, Lacey.

She would call him. That was the only answer. Even if he didn’t have her number now, he would soon enough. She had to come clean.

She took a deep breath and reached for the phone. She jumped when it let out a dinging noise. It was a text. From him. Her sweaty palms fumbled to find the message.

“Who is this?”

She started to type in an explanation. Then she deleted it. She was on revision number three when the phone dinged again.

“I figure there are three options: #1 You’re a stalker #2 you’re a secret admirer or #3 you got the wrong number.”

Yes, yes, number three! This was her out. She’d tell him it was a wrong number and he’d drop it. This whole ridiculous episode would be over.

She scrambled to type #3 and hit send.

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. This could not be happening.

She tried to stop the message from sending and moaned in horror when her phone made a swishing noise that signaled the text had been sent.

In her haste, she had mistyped. She’d hit the ‘less than’ symbol just below the pound sign. She watched in horrified fascination as the phone transformed ‘<3’ into a bright red heart emoticon.

This could not be happening.

Lawrence Newsom called again. No doubt to threaten his lunatic admirer with a restraining order. She answered and hung up. Five minutes later as she rushed out of the hotel room, she answered and hung up again.

By the time she arrived at the airport she had hung up on Lawrence Newsom a total of six times and was in a perpetual state of fear that her phone would ring again.

This was ridiculous. She couldn’t keep this up forever. What if he called when she was in the shower or fast asleep? He’d get her voicemail and assume that his new public speaking coach was a full-blown crazyface.

She would disconnect her number. That was it. She would get a new number. But then her family and friends would have no way of reaching her. Her overprotective parents would have the National Guard hunting for her if she fell off the face of the earth.

“Miss, this way please.” The driver who had dropped her off ushered her into a small waiting room in a hangar set apart from the main terminal. A beautiful man was already in there. Beautiful was not often a word she associated with men but in this case, it was fitting. He was long and lean, stretched out in a low-slung chair by the door. He had black hair and dark skin and the sort of features that sculptors loved.

When he glanced up at her, she had to remind herself to breathe. Those eyes. They would have been a lovely shade of green on any face but set against the bronzed skin of a Greek god— they looked unreal.

“Are you Lacey?”

She nodded and let go of the handle of her suitcase. It promptly toppled over. If she was going to keep up this traveling saleswoman routine, she should invest in a good set of luggage.

“Here, let me help you,” the god said.

Beautiful and polite? He had to be gay.

He maneuvered her lopsided suitcase so it was leaning against the wall and gestured toward the seat across from his. “You might as well get comfortable. We may be here for a while. No flights are taking off until the snow lets up.”

“Oh.” She watched him turn his attention to the phone in his hand and wished she could think of anything interesting to say to hold his attention. Not for the first time, she had to marvel at the bitter irony of being a public speaking coach who was forever at a loss for words.

“So do you, uh…do you work for Newsom Industries?”

That earned her a half-smile and quite possibly the most adorable dimple in the universe. “Yes. I wear various hats there. Today I’ll be the pilot flying you to New York.”

She nodded like an idiot. She assumed he would turn to whatever it was on his phone that was entertaining him but instead he stuck it in his pocket and shifted so he could lean back in his chair.

Lacey fingered her own phone in her hand. Not even the presence of a god could keep her from the persistent fear that Lawrence Newsom would call again and get her voicemail.

“You waiting for a call?” He nodded toward the phone in her hand.

“Um, sort of.”

The sound of the pilot’s phone ringing broke what was about to become an awkward silence.

“Yeah, this is Alex,” the pilot said. Whatever the person on the other end said annoyed him because the Greek god pilot frowned. Was it possible he was even more beautiful when he frowned?

He muttered a curse that made Lacey shift in her seat uncomfortably. “Is everything okay?” she asked once he’d hung up.

He stood and picked up the overnight bag at his feet. “There’s another storm heading our way. We’re not going anywhere tonight.”

He slung his bag over one shoulder, grabbed the handle of her suitcase and started walking out of the office.

“Wait, where are we going?”

He glanced over his shoulder and watched as she chased after him—not an easy feat in three-inch heels. “I’m taking you to the hotel. We should get there before the storm hits.”

They caught the driver in time and hitched a ride to the city. Alex spent most of the car ride on the phone with someone at office headquarters giving details about their predicament.

The pilot seemed severely put out by the change of plans but Lacey could barely conceal her relief. She was excited about the prospect of soloing with her first major client but she was also a ball of nerves. Now she had one more evening of respite before she was thrown to the wolves.

She looked at the phone in her hand, which had been silent since she’d reached the airport. Lawrence Newsom seemed to have given up on his quest to figure out the identity of his stalker and hopefully it would all be forgotten by the time she arrived in New York the next day.

* * *

“What do you mean, there’s only one room left?” Lacey was aware that her voice had entered the shrill territory and took a deep breath. The bored looking woman at the front desk looked unfazed by Lacey’s distress.

Lacey pasted on a smile and tried a different tactic. “I stayed here last night. Can’t I have that room? Room 601?”

The woman didn’t even pretend to check the computer. “That room is currently occupied. The only room available is the penthouse suite.”

“We’ll take it.” Alex came up behind her and slapped his company card on the front desk. He looked amused by the look on her face. If everyone found her as funny as this guy did, she would quit her job and become a stand-up comic.

“Relax,” he said. “It’s a suite. I’m sure there are plenty of places to sleep. Besides, I just called around and all the hotels near here are booked solid with stranded passengers in the same boat. We’re lucky to get a room at all.”

Lacey gnawed on her bottom lip. “But a penthouse suite? That’s so expensive…”

“The company is paying for it, remember? And it’s on my expense account, not yours. If anyone gets in trouble, it’ll be me.”

That thought only made her feel worse. Twelve years of Catholic schooling had left her with a decent education and an overly developed guilty conscience.

Apparently Alex misconstrued her concern because he leaned down so he could look her in the eye and gave her a reassuring smile. “Hey, I’m a good guy, I promise. I won’t lay a hand on you tonight.”

Lacey’s cheeks burned as a delicious image of a half-naked Alex flashed through her mind. She thought he must have read her mind because he winked and leaned in closer so the front desk attendant couldn’t hear. “Unless you want me to.”

He was joking. She knew he was joking. But that didn’t stop her stomach from doing a nervous backflip.

She followed him into the elevator and down the hall to the suite, nervous at the thought of sharing a hotel room with a perfect stranger.

The suite was huge. Enormous even. But it only had one bed. An enormous king-size bed, but still just one bed. Lacey stared at it as though hypnotized by the down comforter’s floral pattern.

Alex walked past her, tossed his bag on a leather recliner and flopped onto the bed. He crossed his arms behind his head. “So which side do you want? Left or right?”

His teasing grin was too cute not to laugh. “Very funny.”

He sighed in mock sadness. “Fine. I’ll take the couch.”

Lacey perched on the end of the bed and looked around her. What were they supposed to do now? It was still early to go to sleep. What did two strangers do when they were stuck alone in a hotel room together? Watch TV?

“Want a drink?”

Alex walked over to the mini-bar and held up two tiny bottles of vodka.

Lacey’s nod was so emphatic she nearly slid off the bed. Yes.

The first drink went down quickly and went straight to Lacey’s head. “I think I’m going to head to the restaurant and grab some food. Do you want to come?”

The restaurant was packed. A harried hostess informed them that it would be a twenty-minute wait. “We’ll just wait at the bar,” Alex said.

And that was the end, as far as Lacey was concerned. An hour and two cocktails later, they were still waiting to be seated and she was far more than two sheets to the wind. But she was having fun. Oh, was she having fun.

“So, let me get this straight,” Alex said. “Up until six months ago you were working as a waitress at a bar in San Francisco?”

Lacey slurped up the last sip of her drink and nodded. “That is correct.”

“And now you’re a life coach,” he finished.

Lacey giggled. “I’m not a life coach, just a public speaking coach.” She rolled her eyes. “God, no one in their right mind would want me as their life coach. I can’t even get my own act together, let alone someone else’s.”

Alex seemed to be studying her. “You seem to be doing all right for yourself.”

Lacey leaned in so she could whisper in his ear. “It’s all a ruse.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “What part?”

Lacey opened her arms to signify everything. “All of it. Me. My job. I’m a total fraud.”

“Can I let you in on a secret?” He leaned in and she moved to meet him. He was so close she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. “Everybody feels that way.”

Lacey laughed. “I don’t believe it.”

He just shrugged as though it was a given.

“Even you? Do you feel like a fraud?”

He rolled his eyes. “All the time. It’s all about faking it ‘til you make it.”

She narrowed her eyes and studied his face. He couldn’t be much older than her. Maybe mid-twenties. But he talked like he was much older. Like he had life experience.

He popped a peanut into his mouth. “So why did you become a public speaking coach if you don’t like it?”

“It’s not that I don’t like it. I really do like it, oddly enough. I like helping people. It’s just... I fell into it, you know? I graduated from college and had no idea what I wanted to do. I mean, I was a Theater major with a minor in Art History. There isn’t a wealth of opportunities out there for someone with that background.”

Alex nodded and signaled to the bartender for another drink. “So you started waitressing.”

“Yeah. Mainly because that’s all I knew how to do. I waitressed all throughout high school and college and after four years getting a degree, that was my only marketable skill.”

“But you didn’t like it.”

Lacey scrunched up her face as she pondered that question. “No. It’s not that I didn’t like it. I was good at it. And I worked with friends.” She shrugged. “It was fun.”

Even she could hear how nostalgic she sounded. She didn’t normally get teary eyed over her old job but today that job sounded heavenly. She was so tired of feeling out of her league. Tired of feeling like she was acting all the time. Tired of feigning confidence she didn’t feel. She was tired of feeling like a fraud. At that moment, she would have been relieved to have the comfort of her old bar.

Her phone rang, startling her out of her moping. She fumbled for her phone, which hadn’t left her sight since this morning’s epic disaster. It was her mom. She let it go to voicemail. She’d call her in the morning.

“Who are you avoiding?”

Alex was watching her. Those beautiful green eyes seemed to take everything in. “Come on, Lacey. It’s obvious you’re waiting for someone to call. Is it him?”

He gestured toward her hand and for a moment she looked at it in confusion. The ring. Her grandmother’s antique diamond ring. It was still on her left ring finger. It was a trick one of her bartender friends had taught her when she’d been hit on one too many times to count. It was an easy way to say no without hurting anyone’s feelings.

Lacey was terrible at saying no. And then when she’d joined the consulting firm it had been even more useful. Not only did it keep colleagues and clients from hitting on her; it also gave her some credibility. She was young and she looked it. But being engaged seemed to give her an air of maturity. The lie had spread quickly in the company.

“Oh. Um…” she was about to tell him the truth, that she was single and the ring was just another prop for the charade that was her life. But then her phone rang again. She jumped in her seat and grabbed it. It was just an alert that her mom had left a message.

“Oh come on, it’s killing me not knowing. Who are you hiding out from?”

So she told him. Whether it was the cocktails or just the fact that she needed a friend to confide in, she told him the whole ridiculous story of her butt-dialing disaster. When she started he almost interrupted her with an odd smile on his face. But by the time she was done, he was doubled over with laughter.

“It’s not funny,” she wailed, but she was laughing too. His laugh was contagious. “Seriously, what am I supposed to do?”

He sat up and tried to stop laughing. “Okay, okay. What should you do? Why don’t you just change your message so that it just says what number the caller has reached. Take off the personal setting.”

Lacey stared at him for a moment. “I’m an idiot. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.”

“Hey, I’m the master of avoiding calls.”

“I bet.” She changed the settings and ignored him when he asked what she meant by that. What she meant, of course, was that he was clearly a player. He must be swatting women away constantly.

When she finished with the phone and was finally able to shove it out of sight, she turned to him with a grin. “You saved my life. Or my job, at least.”

He gave a little bow. “My pleasure.”

“Okay, now it’s your turn.”

“My turn for what?”

“What’s your story? How did you become a pilot?”

“I joined the US Air Force straight out of high school.” He shrugged. “I’ve always been into planes and flying, I’ve never wanted to do anything else. When I got out of the military, I was offered a job with Newsom, and I took it … for better or worse.” He’d muttered the last part while tossing back half a glass of whiskey.

“Don’t you like your job?” she asked.

He seemed to think that over for a minute as he finished off the glass. “I love the flying; it’s not that. It’s just…there are some other parts of the job that I can’t stand.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Administrative stuff, I guess. There’s a lot of red tape and a corporate side to it that I never signed up for.”

Lacey nodded. “I think you’re lucky.”

He raised his eyebrows at her.

“I do, I think you’re lucky. You’ve always known what you wanted to do, and now you’re doing it. That’s awesome.”

He rewarded her with one of those killer dimples. “Yeah, I guess.”

They were leaning in toward one another in the loud, crowded room, their elbows brushing on the bar and faces mere inches apart. Time seemed to stop, and Lacey completely forgot there were other people around.

“You’re gorgeous, do you know that?”

Her breath caught in her throat. She shook her head, which made him smile. The air around her seemed to thicken, and she couldn’t quite catch her breath. She couldn’t look away from those eyes, which were at the moment studying her lips. She licked them self-consciously and saw his eyes darken with desire.

She should stop this. She should pull away.

He closed the distance between them and kissed her. Softly, gently. His lips were firm and warm and so tender it brought tears to her eyes. No one had ever kissed her like that. Like she was precious. Breakable. Like she was the only woman in the world.

When he pulled back, they were both breathing heavily. The bartender set down two more drinks, and they both sought refuge in the sharp sting of the alcohol.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Because they worked for the same company? Or because he wasn’t that into her? Maybe he had a girlfriend somewhere.

He gestured toward her left hand with a self-deprecating laugh. “I don’t typically hit on women who are taken.”

Dammit. She toyed with the stupid, fake ring and tried to figure out how much she should tell him. “This, uh…” she gestured toward her ring. “It’s not real. I mean….” Her brain was so fuzzy from the drinks she didn’t know how to explain. She sighed and finished, “It’s complicated.”

He nodded and reached over to trace a finger over her hand, sending shivers up her spine. She wanted this more than she could ever remember wanting anything.

“Maybe we could just forget about who we are and where we work. Just for tonight.” She couldn’t believe those words came out of her mouth but the moment they did, she knew it was the right decision.

His gaze focused on her with an intensity that would have been frightening if it wasn’t so hot. He wanted this just as much as she did.

He signaled for the check without breaking eye contact with her. “Do you still want to wait for dinner?”

She shook her head. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

The elevator ride up to their floor filled with heightened anticipation. Her stomach clenched in nervous excitement as the floors passed by. He reached out and clasped her hand in his. She felt a surge of pure electricity at the innocent gesture. She had never been so aware of another person’s presence. She could feel the heat from his body and smell his masculine scent, a heady mix of soap and shaving cream.

They were quiet as they walked to the suite and she waited for him to key in. She would have done it herself but knew that her hands would shake too badly.

The door hadn’t closed behind them before they were in each other’s arms.

“Oh God, I’ve wanted to do this from the moment you walked into the hangar,” he groaned. His lips moved urgently over hers, and when she parted her lips, his tongue darted inside. Lacey moaned as she clung to his shoulders and arms, desperate to touch him.

He pulled her against him so her breasts were crushed against his hard chest and she moaned again. Her limited experiences with sex were tepid, awkward affairs. Nothing at all like this furious desire that made her lose all mental faculties as her body took on a mind of its own. She wriggled against him, aching for more.

They half stumbled, half fell into the bed. Alex leaned over her, his dark face cast in shadows as he searched her gaze. “Are you sure you want this? It’s going to complicate things tomorrow.”

She nodded. “I want this.” The words came out in a hoarse voice she barely recognized. That was all he needed. His lips moved from her mouth to her neck and she arched against him as his hands moved over her breasts and stomach. She was busy trying to rip off his shirt so she could feel his bare chest. He stilled above her for a moment when she finally made contact with his skin. She looked up to see what had made him pause and realized he was struggling to maintain control.

That knowledge unleashed a part of Lacey she hadn’t even known existed. The girl next door was replaced by a wanton vixen. He wanted her. Bad. She moved her hands over his chest and trailed kisses over his neck and shoulder, reveling in his groans of pleasure.

She let out a squeak of surprise when he captured her hands and flipped her so he could return the sweet torture. Slowly, with infinite care, he unbuttoned her blouse. By the time he was done she was practically panting with impatience. She thought she might scream if he didn’t touch her.

And then he touched her and she gasped with pleasure. He cupped her breasts through her lacy bra. When he covered her nipples with his lips, her hips bucked and she was panting with ecstasy.

“Please, don’t stop,” she pleaded.

Alex moved lower, trailing kisses over her stomach and thighs. When neither of them could stand the teasing any longer, he helped her shed what was left of her clothes and positioned himself over her.

“Are you sure?”

Lacey was surprised and touched that even now, when they were both drunk on desire, he still gave her an out.

“I’m positive.”

When he thrust inside her, she lost all form of conscious thought. Her head dropped and she met him thrust for thrust until she came apart with an earthshaking climax.

* * *

LACEY WOKE FIRST and tiptoed over to her purse to check her work emails. There was one from her boss that made her stomach sink in horror. He’d given Lawrence Newsom her cell number this morning so he could reach out to her to reschedule their meeting.

What were the odds that he wouldn’t recognize the number? Slim to none. She curled up on a lounge chair in the corner and watched Alex sleep as she weighed her options. She had to come clean; there was no other way around it. She just hoped he found it as amusing as Alex did.

She took a deep breath and started to dial. Time to bite the bullet.

As the phone in her hand rang, Alex’s phone vibrated on the nightstand. Half awake, he muttered something before turning over to reach for it. Lacey looked back and forth between her phone and his in confusion. No. No, it couldn’t be.

But then he answered the phone and muttered a hello that echoed in her ear through the speaker on her phone. Embarrassment and horror warred with anger as the pieces clicked into place.

If she hadn’t been so hurt and humiliated she might have laughed at the look on Alex’s face as his sleep-addled brain made the same connection seconds later.

“Wait. Lacey, I can explain.”

She was halfway to the door, and she whirled around so quickly she nearly fell over.

“You can explain? Are you or are you not Lawrence Newsom?”

“Lawrence Alexander Newsom the third, actually.”

“You’re unbelievable.” She wished her voice wasn’t shaking, and her eyes weren’t tearing up as she said it.

“Lacey.” That was it. He said her name. She heard it just before she walked out and slammed the door behind her.

A few minutes later she found herself standing in the lobby in a ratty T-shirt, pajama pants and a serious case of bedhead. She was also missing her luggage.

Well, crap. Now what was she supposed to do?

She ignored the curious stares as she plopped onto a chair in the corner of the lobby. Her brain refused to work. Rage and adrenaline rushed through her veins, making her hands tremble and her stomach churn. She was dangerously close to sobbing. She’d always had a tendency to cry when she was pissed, which only ever added to her frustration during arguments.

It’s hard to sound tough and be taken seriously when you’re crying like a baby.

At some point she was going to have to go to the room to get her belongings. But there was no way in hell she was going through with this job.

Her blood boiled at the thought. How could he have kept a straight face as she’d poured out her insecurities about her new position? She slapped a hand over her mouth and groaned as she remembered the way he’d guffawed when she’d told him about the butt-dialing incident. The man was inhuman. He must have been laughing at her.

Until he’d slept with her. He’d stopped laughing just long enough to use her.

Trembling fingers punched the numbers for her manager’s office. First order of business was to cancel the Newsom gig. Then she’d go upstairs, get her belongings and give Lawrence—or Alex—a piece of her mind.

And maybe she’d punch him in the throat while she was at it. It was a possibility.

“Lacey, bad luck getting stuck in the storm like that.” Her boss, Rick, didn’t believe in greetings.

“Yeah, it wasn’t ideal. Listen, Rick, I’ve got some bad news. I’m going to have to cancel on the Newsom job.”

A deafening silence followed that announcement and Lacey dropped her head in her hands, cringing as she imagined the look on her boss’s face. Theirs was not an office where you said no to a job. Not if you wanted a job to return to.

“Oh? And why’s that?”

She cleared her throat. Why hadn’t she rehearsed a lie? She scrambled for something good.

“Death in the family.”

Another silence. Lacey bit her lip to keep the verbal diarrhea at bay. She hated silence, particularly on the phone.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Lace. Was it someone in your immediate family?”

“No.” Lacey couldn’t bring herself to lie about something like that. Not only did it seem evil, but there was no way she could keep up a lie like that. A fake fiancé was one thing, but a dead mom?

Rick heaved a sigh. “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news but the company policy is you only get time off if it’s immediate family.”

Her boss missed her look of disgust.

“Besides, the big boss himself requested that you be his consultant,” Rick added as some sort of consolation. Lacey had a mental flash of their head boss at the main office. She hadn’t thought he even knew who she was. Maybe she was making a name for herself at the company after all. “Mr. Crowley specifically requested me for this one?”

Rick’s derisive snort was her answer. “Lawrence Newsom, Jr. asked for you.”

Lacey’s blood ran hot then cold. “He did?”

“Yeah, just this morning. He called a couple of minutes ago and said you two had met and hit it off. He doesn’t want anyone else.”

She gritted her teeth to keep from angry crying into the phone.

Rick clearly misinterpreted her silence as capitulation and he continued with his argument of why she had to see this job through. He adopted his best buddy-buddy tone and dropped his voice. “Listen, Lace, you know the company’s policy. You’re still in the six-month probation period. If you had a little seniority, maybe I could pull some strings but as a probie …”

You’ll lose your job. He didn’t say it but he didn’t have to. She’d heard all the strict lectures during training and had heard the horror stories of newbies who lost their shot at a good career thanks to one stupid screw-up. Did she want to be the next newbie screw-up story? More important, did she want the jackass upstairs to be the reason she was out of a job and up to her eyeballs in debt?

No. The answer was most definitely no.

“Fine,” she bit out through gritted teeth. “I’ll do it.”

“That’s my girl. Now go get yourself to the airport. Lawrence said he’d have a pilot waiting to fly you out as soon as the weather clears.”

Her nostrils flared as she swallowed that last bit. He’d known she’d say yes once he put the pressure on her boss. The arrogant son of a bitch.

“Lacey, let me explain,” Alex started the moment she walked into the hotel room.

She waved away his words and scrupulously avoided staring at his bare chest. His tanned, hard, perfectly sculpted chest. “I don’t want to hear it, Lawrence.”

He winced at the use of his given name. “Please call me Alex. My grandfather is the only one who calls me Lawrence.”

She walked past him, ignoring his attempts to stop her as she gathered her belongings which were strewn around the room—clear evidence of their one-night-stand the night before.

He heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his dark, tousled hair. “Lacey, please let me explain. If we’re going to work together—“

“Let’s get one thing straight,” she said as she snatched up a pair of panties from the nightstand. “I am not coming back for you; I’m doing this because it is my job. I need this job, as you well know, and I’m not going to let one drunken mistake with a giant asshole ruin everything.”

She saw him open his mouth to speak and cut him off before he had the chance. “This,” she gestured wildly around the room. “This will never happen again. Is that clear?”

The nod he gave her could only be described as sheepish, but the smile he was holding back was enough to bring on the tears of fury with a vengeance. “I mean it, Alex. This was a one-night thing. If I’d known who you were ...”

He took a step closer, so he was in her personal space. “You what? You wouldn’t have slept with me? You wouldn’t have had fun? Wouldn’t have spilled all your deep, dark secrets?”

He was mocking her. Teasing her. She could feel the tears of anger welling up despite every effort to hold them back.

Alex saw them too and his reaction was almost comical. He was a deer in headlights in the face of a woman crying. His tone lost all of its teasing and he reached out a hand to touch her arm. “Hey ... hey. Don’t do that. Don’t cry.” He looked terrified as he forced a joking tone, clearly trying to make her smile. “Last night wasn’t that bad, was it?”

She opened her mouth to respond but couldn’t get past the lump in her throat. She swallowed thickly, and he leaned in, concern written all over his face. She fought to get words out through gritted teeth. “You. Are. An. Asshole.”

To continue reading, head to