Briony looked at the floor for a good minute after he’d gone, hoping that it might swallow her. “Frank frickin’ Knight’s son?” She sat on the couch, then remembering what had just gone on there, stood again, realizing as she did so that the remains of his tie were still in the floor. “Oh. My. God. Shower.”

Even though she scrubbed her skin raw, Briony couldn’t get the sensation of Cole Knight’s eyes stripping her down off her skin. And the thought that she had been the one to tie him up and ride him . . . no, she wasn’t going to think about it.

Unable to spend another minute by herself, she headed for the bar. Perched on a stool she knocked back another shot of bourbon and instantly regretted it. A hangover on top of everything was not what she needed. “Jeeeeezus.”

“Where’d your knight in shining Armani get to?”

Briony couldn’t look Rocco in the eye. She closed her eyes and realized the room was spinning.

“Oh. Like that, is it? You want me to give him a talking-to? No one turns down our little Bri-bird and gets away with it.”

“No.” She looked up finally. “He didn’t turn me down. Quite the opposite. What the hell was in that drink you gave me? I would never have done that if I hadn’t been half off my face.”

“If you say so.” Rocco chuckled. “Seems to me all I did was give you a little liquid nudge to do what you wanted to do in the first place.”

“More like a tap with a sledgehammer.”

“So it was a bit strong. Put hairs on your chest. Cheer up.”

Briony sighed but the end came out more like a sob.

“Hey.” Rocco’s voice softened. “What? He run out on you after? Or what, he couldn’t get it up? That’s his problem, not yours.”

“Ha!” She couldn’t help herself; the thought of getting the Hell’s Boys to talk up a tale of Cole Knight’s limp dick all over L.A. was awfully tempting. But it wasn’t true. She sighed. “The problem is he’s Cole Knight. I just slept with Cole Knight. Ohmygod, I’m such an idiot.”

“Yeah, not ideal. But hey, might be useful.”

She did a double take. “Useful?”

“He’s Frank Knight’s son, right?”

Her eyes widened. “How did you know? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Lifted his wallet. In case.” Rocco held up an expensive-looking billfold. “So what happened?”

“I’m not telling you that. But turns out it’s his company, the son’s, not the father’s, and he’s petitioning to bring a big fat wrecking ball through that door.” She pointed at the door to the bar.

“Asshole.” Rocco stood up. “Shall I go bring him back for a little chat?”

Briony put a weary hand on Rocco’s arm. “I didn’t give him a chance to tell me, really. Not entirely his fault.”

“Ah.” Rocco pulled at his beard.

“That’s it? Aren’t you supposed to go take him down for disrespecting my honor or some shit? No ‘What the hell were you thinking, Briony?’ or ‘I could still rough him up for you, Briony’?”

“I can, but you don’t want me to. You and Hade are the ones who want us to clean up the gang’s act. Don’t go calling a hit on a guy unless you really mean it, babes. You want me to come up with something better.”

Briony laughed as tears threatened to fall. “I don’t know what to do.”

Rocco’s jaw clenched then his scar twitched as his eyebrows shot up. “Think about it as an opportunity.”

For a moment, Briony let the sensation of being with Cole Knight come back to her. Asshole he might be but . . . those eyes, that body, that . . . “I don’t see any opportunity here, except for me feeling like an idiot.”

“I’m serious.” Rocco sat again. “This might be some silver lining shit. Were you in your room or in your lockup?”

Briony frowned. “I don’t see how feeling like an idiot and looking forward to the mother of all hangovers is going to have anything shiny attached. And I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“It’s important. Where?”

She sighed. “My lockup.”

“Thought you might. Get dirty where it’s dirty.”

Briony scrubbed at her face. “Kill me now.”

“Don’t need to do that.” Rocco grinned at her. “How about that credibility transplant instead?”

For a second the room ceased to spin and the noise of the Hell’s Boys dimmed to a buzz. Rocco only got that look when he was about to do something either incredibly stupid or incredibly smart, usually both at the same time. Her mind flicked through the possibilities. She had nothing. “You lost me.”

Rocco was pulling at his beard again. “He spill any trade secrets with you when he didn’t know who you were? Have a heart-to-heart?”

She grimaced. “He did, actually.”

“Boom. Got him.”

“Got him how?”

“You need a credibility transplant. Mr. Armani-pants is all sorts of credible, isn’t he?”

Briony shook her head at him. “Sure, but were you not listening to what I said? I slept with the guy, then threw him out because he’s about to take down Wilde’s and put up some crap housing development or something. He’s the reason the planning department and the bank are on my ass.”

“So you marry him.”

Briony’s jaw almost unhinged as it dropped to the floor. “I what now?”

“Marry him. Become Mrs. Armani-pants developer. And convince him not to bring the bulldozers to Wilde’s obviously.”

Briony took a breath and laughed. The tears weren’t far away, but at least if they were mixed in with the giggles she could shake them off and not freak out the Hell’s Boys. “Good one. Thanks, you’re right, the only thing left to do in this situation is laugh at it.” She punched Rocco on the arm.

He grinned. “I’m serious.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And he’s going to marry me because . . . ?”

Rocco’s grin widened. “Because we’re going to blackmail him.”

She laughed again, this time without the tears. “You’re too perfect. Blackmail some guy who probably has a team of lawyers on his staff. Blackmail him.” She laughed again. “With what? I’m going to ransom the tie that he ruined tearing himself free?” She put a hand to her mouth.

Rocco’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, well. Aren’t you the dark and shady horse?”

“Hardly, not like I made a secret sex tape or anything.”

Rocco patted her on the shoulder. “Now you’re getting it.”

She rubbed her eyes.

“You’re going to blackmail him into marrying you because you made a sex tape.”

“But I didn’t.”

Rocco coughed.

Her eyes widened. “You didn’t. Oh my god. You were watching that?” Briony thought the floor might actually open up this time. If this day got any worse it would be a funeral. Hers.

“No one watched anything. But the security cameras in the lockups were turned on tonight.”

“Why?”

“When I found out who he was I . . .” He pulled at his beard again. “Took precautions.”

“So it’s on camera? Me? And . . . him.”

“No one has seen it. Promise. That’d be like—”

She put up her hand. “Wrong. I know. All. Kinds. Of. Wrong.”

“Yep. But there you go. You can blackmail him.”

Briony’s mind whirred. “And everything’s there? About the cover-up? And him badmouthing his competition? Not saying I’m pleased that you flicked the switch on the camera, but now . . .” This was not something she did. Blackmail? Briony bit her lip and reminded herself that she hadn’t even thought of it. Her conscience was clear there. But she was out of chances, out of luck. Without a license and more money it wasn’t going to matter if the place was a secret bat-cave with the secrets to human salvation, the bank was going to come after her and take her hotel if Cole Knight didn’t do it first. Then it wouldn’t just be the Hell’s Boys without a bar, it would be her on the street. The sex-tape idea was a silver lining end to a shitty night and it was her last chance.

“There was a cover-up? Nice.” Rocco paused. “Those cameras don’t have audio. But . . .” His smiled widened. “They might have. And he won’t know any better. If he brings it up you say we had directional mics included in the package. Our business is high risk.”

“Our business?”

“Make him think they’re gang cameras. Makes sense we’d have ramped up security. We’ve got a few enemies.”

“True.” Briony bit her lip. A recording. Of her. Naked. You read about celebrities becoming famous with sex tapes and she’d always laughed at the idea as a sign of desperate attention seeking. And then here she was. Was she really going to do this? “Blackmail.”

“Yep.”

“With a sex tape.”

“Yep.”

“Give me strength. Or at least a drink.”

* * *

“You want to what?” Cole was wet, cold, and exhausted. Being dragged back to Wilde’s Hotel by three Hell’s gang members was not what he’d had planned for the rest of his evening. Although he hadn’t planned on anything that had happened so far.

When the three Harleys had overtaken his taxi and forced it off the road, Cole’s stomach had solidified into a lump of lead. This was what happened in the movies. This and three large shotgun wounds to the stomach. What is with you choosing the wrong women to sleep with?

“Oh, Holy Mother. Are you some gangster or something? I knew I shouldn’ta picked you up.” The taxi driver was already shaking. He lowered the window and tried to shout above the noise of wind and rain. “This has nothing to do with me! I just picked him up. I got a wife and three kids at home.”

“It’s okay,” said Cole, sounding much calmer than he felt. “I’ll go.” Stepping out into the night, he expected a sucker punch to the jaw at the very least. Instead he was bundled onto the back of a bike, driven through the pouring rain back to the hotel, and then . . . this. “You want to get married?”

If he hadn’t been surrounded by four growling gang members he would have laughed; he almost did anyway.

“She wants to get married. To you. And to show your love for her, you’re going to agree to renovate Wilde’s and keep it in your fancy development.” It was the guy who had been by Briony’s side in the bar earlier. Rocco, Cole remembered. Clearly the leader, and clearly someone who was used to getting his way.

“What? No. She’s a . . . nice girl, but I’m not marrying anyone. And I make the calls about what goes in my development.”

“A nice girl?” Briony’s pupils dilated and her nostrils flared.

If he’d thought Briony was going to let her boys do all the talking, he’d been wrong. Of all the people in the room she looked the most likely to punch him in the face right then. “Okay, maybe not nice.” And certainly not a girl. Even with the bikers in the room and his suit dripping with water, Cole couldn’t deny that seeing the anger light up the caramel in her eyes was heating up his internal core. With any luck he might steam clean his clothes from the inside out.

“Be very careful, buddy.” Rocco stepped back in.

Cole straightened. Focus. “I’m not marrying anyone.”

“You already said that.”

“Then it must be true.”

“Even if your reputation depends on it?”

“My reputation is fine.” Ish. As long as the crapshoot mess that he’d finally cleaned up in New York didn’t expand to the West Coast. In L.A. no one knew him yet, and the city was hungry for his development dollar. His board had been meddling long enough and now it was time to take on the firm’s biggest project on his own terms. Here no one knew about his history of depression and no one cared. He was the one with the money and the power; time to put it to work.

“You sure about that? A certain Mr. Paul Manning wouldn’t be put out by, what’s the word, slanderous claims of his unsafe work practices? The LAPD can sleep easy ’cause no one’s bad-mouthing them all over town? Racketeering, wasn’t it? That was what you said? Oh and then there’s that small matter of paying people off. I would have thought a man like you would know better than to bribe your way out of court.”

Cole dragged his eyes from the gang leader and stared at Briony. At least she had the decency to look away. You idiot. One too many bourbons and he’d spilled everything to the wrong woman. “You told them all that?” He shook his head and straightened. “No one’s going to believe you. My word over a bunch of gang members. If that’s all you’ve got, I’m done here.”

Rocco put an arm out and the three other men unfolded their arms. “I forgot to introduce you. This is Mikey, though I think you met Hade and Marnz earlier.” The muscle mass between the four of them was not something to be brushed off without an escape plan. A chill ran over Cole’s skin.

“It’s not my word they need to take,” said Rocco. “They’ll hear it from you. Along with a few other special edition highlights.” He pointed to the laptop Cole hadn’t noticed earlier. “It’s all here. I have to admit I fast-forwarded through most of it. Not my thing.” He pushed play and Cole’s eyes widened as the image of himself and Briony jumped onto the screen. Her tying his wrists together, undoing his shirt, pushing him onto the couch . . . The noise of the bar drowned out the audio and Briony’s back was to the camera, but his face was clearly visible. His face and . . . Cole stiffened and pushed the stop button before he swung his gaze from Rocco to Briony. Her face didn’t change. She’d make one hell of a poker player. If this got out he was finished. Not just in L.A. but everywhere. “You made a recording?”

She shrugged.

“More of a sex tape really,” Rocco interjected.

Cole didn’t take his eyes off Briony. Her expression didn’t change but her eyes flashed dark. Deep sultry, dark chocolate. “We have cameras in the lockup, some of the boys’ bikes are worth a bit, not that we’ve needed to turn them on of late. It’s a good setup, cameras, directional mics, the works. When I found out who you were, I figured you had it coming.”

Was that really what she thought of him? Despite the current circumstances, Cole found he was hurt more by that thought rather than the very present threat to everything he’d been building for this development. Whatever, it’s just ego. Game face on. Time to sort this. Now. “My car broke down. I was in the neighborhood. Figured I might as well check this place out. Everything else happened without any evil intent on my part.”

Rocco waved him off. “Don’t take it personal, Slick. It’s just business. That’s what you’re all about, right?”

Cole shuddered at the mocking tone in the gang leader’s voice. “Business. Right. So how much is it going to cost me to have that video destroyed?”

“Rocco already told you. You and I are going to get engaged and you’re going to renovate and keep Wilde’s.” Briony’s voice was clear and calm. If he thought this was just the bikers’ doing, he was wrong. She was in it as much as they were. More maybe, seeing as it was her hotel. Gotta give the girl points for sticking up for herself. Sure. But no one earned points for blackmail where he came from. Well, no one worth knowing anyway.

“I can give you money. Isn’t that what you want? Why do we need to be engaged?”

“Not enough skin in the game if it’s only money. How long is it going to take you to do the development? A year?”

“At least.”

“That’s plenty of time to figure out a way out of any normal deal we made. So we get engaged for a year. Gives you incentive to stick to your side of the bargain.”

“And getting engaged would help that . . . how?”

“Wilde’s is secure. And I’m your fiancée, no one questions it. If you don’t look out for your fiancée’s assets, you look like more of an ass than you actually are. If that’s possible.”

“Charming.”

She shrugged. “You asked.”

“You understood what you’re saying? That you’re threatening my whole company? All I was trying to do was look out for the guy who got hurt on-site.”

Briony’s eyes lost a little of their hard sparkle, but her face didn’t drop. “You’re looking out for the little people, huh?”

“Yes. Honestly.”

“Well at least we agree on that, ’cause shutting down Wilde’s hurts plenty of us little people.”

Cole looked around the run-down back office they were all squeezed into and tried to picture how his board would react to the thought of a biker hotel in the middle of his development. The development that was all about forward-thinking eco design and maximizing capacity so that there was more room for green space. “It’s never going to fly, you know that, right? People will ask questions. No one will believe I want to keep this place open. Not in the context of what I’m trying to build. This is going to be a high-end development. Not the sort of place I imagine your clientele would want to be seen dead at.”

“Guess you better start working on your story and work out a way to make it all fit together then, ’cause that’s the deal,” Rocco said with a hint of a snarl.

“Story?”

“You obviously fell in love with our Bri-bird real hard. Wanted to keep the hotel as an engagement present for her.”

Cole clenched his fists but forced himself to release them. Getting angry was only going to end in him getting a black eye with this lot around. He sucked air through his teeth. “No one is going to buy it. I don’t fall in love. And not in one night.”

“Not what it looks like on this video.” Rocco snapped the laptop shut and picked it up. “You’ll think of something, smart businessman like you.” The gang leader placed a firm hand on Cole’s arm so that Cole was under no illusions that he was going to get out of this easily.

“We’ll leave you two lovebirds to sort out the details.” The four men filed out of the room and Cole closed his eyes a moment, unable to fully believe that this was happening to him.

“It doesn’t have to be awkward.”

Eyes open, he scanned Briony for signs of malice. “Awkward? That’s the least of it. To start with, I thought they put you up to this, but they didn’t, did they? You knew who I was when I first walked in and you saw your chance.”

Briony’s eyes flashed black and her nostrils flared. “I did not. I thought my nemesis was Frank Knight, not his errant son. You’re the one coming in here destroying people’s lives. Don’t get all holier than thou on me.”

“I’m buying property and building things. Not stealing. Not blackmailing people.”

“You say tomato, I say tomahto.”

“Yes, but tomatoes are legal whichever way you slice them. Blackmail is not.”

She shrugged. “You’ve seen who my friends are. Maybe they’ve schooled me on how the world works. At least they have my back.” Her jaw was firm, clenched, and the blaze in her eyes flared up again. Any thought he’d had of her backing down when her gang security-squad were out of the room was clearly not going to fly.

“We can hash out the deal now, or we can wait till morning. You can have a room beside the kitchen. Dry out a little.” She motioned to his soaked suit.

“Very generous.”

“I’m too generous. That’s what got me into this mess.” She slumped a fraction.

Damn her. Despite the fact she was trying to screw him, literally, when her face dropped like that, and her voice deepened with emotion, she got under his skin and he felt—sorry? No, that wasn’t it, he felt himself softening, wanting to help her out, sort out her problems. “You’re in a mess. I’m in a mess. Sounds like it was meant to be,” he said dryly.

She rolled her eyes at him. “I didn’t want to do this, but I have to save my hotel. I’ve tried everything but you’ve got the bank fawning over you so hard that I don’t have a show there. That and the planning department riding my ass has been my life these past months. But this place is all I have, and it’s family. I have to save it. I have to.”

“And you thought the best way to save your family would be to blackmail some guy into marrying into it?”

She shrugged and stood, rubbing her eyes and dragging her hands through her glorious hair. Cole saw, properly, how tired she was, how the weight of keeping things going was dragging her down. Damn again. Never kick a man when he’s down. Not even when he’s a she and she’s trying to take you down? Nope. Gentleman’s code. If he went back on that now, he was as bad as she was, as bad as his ex was. Hell, as bad as he used to be. Cole had promised himself he’d buried his past when he put on his first suit six years ago. He looked down at his ruined suit, and knew he wasn’t about to give up on that promise now. In his suits, he knew who he was. Had a future, a set path he could control. He wasn’t going crazy, lost and unable to find a direction. Cole knew what he needed to do, who he needed to be. And damn anyone who got in his way.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to find another suit.”

“I wasn’t worried . . . oh never mind.” He wasn’t about to tell her about his moral code, and he sure as shit wasn’t going to tell her about his brush with a pair of police handcuffs. His pop had bailed him out and made his whole almost - life - destroying - car - theft fascination go away. He’d learned his lesson and moved on. Briony Wilde had proven she was not to be trusted. And no matter how much she’d made his body sing, trust was his bottom line. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

“The room is down the hall and to your left. Oh, and if you decide to sneak out, Rocco and his boys will be happy to accompany you to all of your meetings tomorrow.”

“Nice.”

“I thought so. All part of the service here.”

Cole opened his mouth to retort, but shut it before he got himself into more trouble and started down the hall instead. If the service at Wilde’s Hotel had included Briony Wilde unencumbered with biker-muscle, debt, and a vindictive streak, this evening would have turned out so much better. Clearly you’re an awesome judge of character. First his ex-girlfriend, now Briony. Although never in his wildest dreams had he thought his few hours with Briony would turn into a mess of this scale. He rubbed his face. Mess was an understatement. Shit-storm just about covers it. A shit-storm Cole could not afford right now. The black dog of his depression had been locked firmly in his kennel these past years, and the board had finally acknowledged he’d beaten it. When he’d secured the bulk of the West Coast development land at such a great rate, the board had green-lighted the idea he’d been trying to get off the ground for forever. This was his chance to build what he wanted instead of the standard boring office blocks the Reapers were famous for. He’d put it all on the line to get this development happening, his reputation, his stocks in the firm, his mental health. If this development didn’t happen he’d never get the opportunity again.

He found his room and straightened his shoulders before opening the door to the bare space. Just like the rest of Wilde’s the room was practically crumbling. Peeling wallpaper with a large damp patch by the ceiling, a sad lumpy-looking bed, and an antique chair that might once have been gold but that was now a faded piss color. The room matched his mood perfectly. It was going to take more than a little work to get this place back in any kind of order. He rubbed his face again. “Shit.”

Engaged. He tried to think logically about the proposition for a minute. The board hadn’t said anything for a few months, but they’d been mentioning marriage recently, clearly hoping he’d take the hint with Martha. Instead, his ex had run out on him. Martha leaving after their eight months together was a blessing in disguise. She’d started bringing her brother around the office all the time and then getting pissy with Cole for not taking her family’s development ideas to his board. But what stung was that it had been his brother who encouraged him to go out with her in the first place. His brother who had taken her side when she cheated, telling him they’d get through it, even encouraging him to marry her, reminding him that Martha’s family connections were good for the company. Cole shook his head. He’d never forget his brother sitting him down and lecturing him on Martha’s good heart. Good? More like a cold, calculating, cash-hungry heart.

In contrast to his shiny, happily married brother, Cole was the renegade, even if he did make the board a ton of money. His brother managed to be the golden one while leaving all the work up to Cole. They’d decided together that Cole wouldn’t be the public face of the company, too many worms in that can. So at fund-raisers it was always Rick who was rolled out to shake hands and smooth deals. Although Cole hated talking with investors, it still got under Cole’s skin how hard he’d had to work to get where he was while Rick just sat in on meetings and took his dividends for doing practically nothing.

He sat heavily on the bed and it creaked dangerously. He moved gingerly and felt something give underneath him. “Might be better off on the floor.” If every room looked like this one, he was going to have to throw every stick of furniture out, and that was just for starters. He pulled out his phone but put it away with a sigh. He couldn’t think of anyone he could call to talk this through with.

Being connected to an even more calculating collection of misfits than Martha and her family was not what he needed right now. He could find the money to upgrade Wilde’s, that wouldn’t be a problem, although—he looked at the damp patch on the ceiling again—it was going to be a lot of money. And selling this to the board was going to ruffle everything he’d worked so hard to smooth down. What the hell have I gotten myself into? If his competitors found out about Briony and her sex tape . . . if anyone found out about Briony and her sex tape, it would be bye-bye career and hello courtroom. He might have just been trying to help his builders out, but a cover-up was a cover-up. If it came out, along with the finer details of what he and Briony had gotten up to in her lockup, his reputation, his company, everything was toast.

This development would fly. He was not going to give his competitors any reason to cause problems. If that meant turning a lady in red leathers into a bride in white, so be it. It might even turn out to be a good thing, make the board happy he was putting a ring on someone’s finger. It was only for a year.

“Screw it.” Cole checked his watch before pulling out his phone and punching in his lawyer’s number. He’d made his bed and now he was going to make sure that if he was going to sleep in it with a new wife, she was not going to control everything.