Donovan followed her inside, presumably for ringside seats. The lobby was unusually full. Ryder was there chatting with Kenzi, both trying to act inconspicuous as they slid glances her way. They were ready for a show. Briefly she wondered how many of them had made bets on her and Cortez.

She spotted the man in question, and her mind stutter stepped. Glorious, gorgeous male in his tailored suit with his tussled hair and lips that—

Focus!

He was glaring at his employees—reading their thoughts?—and hadn’t noticed her entrance. No doubt he knew all about the bets.

Then his gaze snapped to her and something like a jolt shot through him. His mouth parted, eyes widening.

And the crowd cheers!

He scraped a hand down his face and then affected a neutral manner. “Naia,” he greeted coolly.

“Cortez,” she mocked his tone, letting a smile play along the corners of her lips as she crossed the room. “I got these for you,” she handed over the bouquet.

His brows shot skyward. “I don’t think anyone has ever given me flowers before.”

“It’s a first for me, too. Read the note.” She folded her hands behind her back and innocently swayed.

He rolled his eyes as though this was a chore and then plucked the note off its plastic holder. She watched his eyes scroll over the card.

A strangled gust of air wheezed out of him.

She grinned and leaned in a bit closer, lowering her voice to a smoky whisper. “You can always exchange the flowers for the other option.”

He was a wire ready to snap. That was where she wanted him, racked with raw, carnal desire just like she’d been as she’d written those rousing words.

Gazing up at him from under her lashes, she added, “In fact, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Sweet tension stole through him. He glanced at her lips with an intensity she felt in her bones. She was pretty sure Donovan was about to win his bet, because it looked as though Cortez was about to kiss her. She let her head fall back slightly.

Then a vein popped on his forehead, and he crushed the note in his fist. “Ryder will take you to see Cole today.” He stalked away. Her heat sank. He’d bolted like he’d just discovered she was a bomb ready to detonate. To Ryder, he called over his shoulder, “Make sure she doesn’t get close to the bars.”

With that he was gone, and she was left wondering if she’d been wrong about the whole situation. Maybe he really didn’t want her.

A sharp pang darted her heart.

Ryder stepped up beside her. “Okay. What the hell did that note say?”

She pursed her lips, blushing in response.

“That good, huh?”

“How was that even remotely good?” she said, dejected. Clearly Cortez hated it.

He pointed in the direction Cortez had escaped. “That’s a man ready to blow.”

Blow a gasket, maybe. She sighed. “So who did you bet on?”

At first Ryder was stunned by her comment, then he smirked. “Money’s on you, babe.”

* * *

Cole did seem better today, or, at least, he wasn’t gripping the bars like he was thinking about tearing through them on his way to her throat. Way to go, baby bro. Progress.

However, when she took a step just a bit too close for Ryder’s comfort, Ryder stayed her by the elbow—very different than Cortez. Ryder’s was the grip of a body guard; Cortez’s had been that of a lover. Had he even realized it?

“How are you feeling?” she asked Cole.

Cole leaned one shoulder against the bars. “Weird. But…not bad. Different. And also not.”

“What’s it like?”

He took a moment to think. “Intense. I can hear better. Like crazy good. I can hear you breathing. The sound of clothes swishing when someone walks…your heart beating.”

As if to torture him, her heart did a nervous dance. “Sorry.”

“For what? Being alive? It’s not like you can help it.”

There’s my good-humored Cole, still in there. “Not just for that.”

“I’m just grateful I was the one targeted and not you. And don’t give me that look. It was not your fault. By the way, I can smell you too. That perfume is awful.”

She bristled. “It cost me a pretty penny. And you’re one to talk. Don’t they let you shower in there, or should I consider that your permanent stench?”

“Hey, I smell manly.” He dipped his head to check his pits. Then they both laughed.

When their humor eased, she sniffed herself wrists where she had applied her perfume and asked seriously, “Is my perfume really bad?”

Cole shook his head. “It’s just a bit strong for my new nose.” Then he pried. “You trying to impress someone or something?”

“Three guesses who,” she grumbled. “And you’ll only need one.”

He whistled. “You really know how to pick ‘em.”

“Don’t I though? Speaking of, you told him about me.”

“Yeah. The thing about having a vampire daddy, you can’t say no to him unless he lets you.”

“So does he know about…” she glanced back at Ryder. “I don’t suppose we could get some privacy?”

He shot her an are-you-fucking-kidding-me look.

“Didn’t think so.” Still, no reason to reveal her deepest sin to everyone if she could help it.

She faced Cole. “Does he know about James?”

Cole nodded solemnly. “He knows everything.”

She tried not to let panic overwhelm her, but her heart began to hammer behind her ribcage. Was that why he was rejecting her now? Because of her crime?

Cole’s fangs appeared, and he took on a wild look. “Naia,” he warned, and she realized it was because her pulse was teasing him.

“Sorry, sorry!”

“Who’s James?” Ryder asked.

“Don’t be a nosey-nelly,” she scolded.

He gave her a pitying look. “He your baby daddy?”

She rolled her eyes. “Knock it off.”

“Secret lover?”

“Ugh. Enough.”

“You kill the guy?”

She choked on her rebuttal and her spine shot ramrod straight.

“No shit?”

“I…I…of course not!” Oh, real convincing.

“So what’d he do?” Ryder asked, no sign of judgment in his tone.

Cole answered. “He tried to kidnap her in the middle of the night, so I pulled him off her and knocked him out. Next thing I know, Naia’s bashing his brains in with the ass end of a solid brass lamp.” He sounded proud.

“It was the adrenaline,” Naia defended pathetically.

Ryder appraised her with new interest. “Nice. I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

Exasperated, Naia shook her head. “Jeez, you two are way too much alike.”

“Buds for life.” Ryder tapped his fist against his chest and then held it out at Cole. Cole mimicked the move like they’d done it before.

She teased, “Oh my god, you guys are soooo lame.” And she suddenly liked Ryder a whole lot more.

Ryder put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his side. “And now you’re stuck with us.”

A warm feeling wrapped her heart, and she couldn’t stop a pleased grin. “Just for that, I’m going to kick your ass at pool later.”

“You’re on.”

She stayed and chatted with Cole for another minute before returning to the elevator with Ryder.

When they were alone, she told him, “I never thanked you for taking care of me that night.”

He smiled down at her. “Guess you just did. Ready to sing?”

She nodded, battling a sudden wave of nerves as they made their way to the Whitlock Stage within one of the medium-sized rooms.

Ryder stood off to the side as she claimed the mic. The crowd was rather small compared to the night of the concert. People sipped drinks and idly conversed, disinterested in her, for the most part. She didn’t care. There was only one purpose for tonight’s performance.

She glanced around.

Ah, there it was, the camera on the back wall, trained on her. She hid a smirk. The music began. The beat was sultry, just as she’d requested. The lights dimmed, and a spotlight hit her. Her gaze remained on the camera as her body began to move to the music. Mic raised, her voice sashayed forth, smoky and sexy, instantly demanding the room’s attention. None of them mattered. She wasn’t even sending out her snare yet. This show was meant for one.

The beat rolled over her hips, and she began to move. It was like waking from a deep sleep, stretching and praising the sun. Her voice shimmied and danced in the air, slow and sensual to start, hinting at something larger than life. She hovered there in that tense space of anticipation and excitement.

The crowd was with her, having stopped their conversations to watch her. But she didn’t care about them. Was Cortez watching her now? Did he like what he saw? The thought was more arousing than anything she had experienced on stage, and she let it shine through her eyes, straight into that camera. With a clang of the drums and a snap of her body, she let her voice fly. The core of her desire for him poured out in a flame of bright need. Her hips succumbed to a smooth undulation that crested through the rest of her body.

The energy in the room shifted with her. It moved and swayed under her command. The audience begged for direction, and she was their conductor. Her voice shifted slightly, turning breathy, wanton. She pictured Cortez staring at his screen and wondered if he was even half as turned on as she was. The thought of his hands on her, loving her the way only he can, tightened every part of her body, kindling a heat that had her thrumming from the inside out.

Just as the song climaxed, she practically did too, only it was hollow and empty because Cortez wasn’t there, and perhaps she was singing to a camera that wasn’t even filming.

Her voice died down then, and she brought the song to a close, coming back into her body.

The sound of someone in the crowd climaxing startled her. The crowd was going at it like a group of wild, horny monkeys, kissing, touching, and fondling their closest neighbor.

“Oops,” she said, breathless.

A slack-jawed Ryder gaped at her hungry disbelief. “Girl, if you didn’t belong to my sire, I might be tempted—”

A murderous tone barked from the entryway. “Ryder!”

He came.

Naia hummed with anticipation.

Ryder went stiff. “Boss, hey, I didn’t see you there.”

He looked wild, and hungry, and super pissed. Vaguely she realized this was a—if not the—pivotal moment in their relationship. After this, they’d either give their relationship an honest shot, or let the spark die forever.

She hurried off the stage to cross toward him. His furious gaze followed her. She wasn’t daunted. He might be angry, but it was only because he was so turned on. She was sure of it.

“Is there something you need, Cortez?” she said sweetly.

His nostrils flared. With a snarl, he gripped her by the elbow and dragged her from the room. He was all coiled muscle and determination as he led her into an empty room. The door slammed behind them. It didn’t bode well that he’d taken her to the very meeting room where their relationship had been shattered by a video and a few pictures.

She hated this meeting room.

With his body, he crushed her against the door and then took her mouth in a rough kiss that set fire to her spine and lit her nerves. Burying her fingers in his hair, she deepened the kiss.

Their tongues did battle around harsh gasps, the pressure cutting off her lungs. It was as if he were trying to punish her with his brutal, carnal, bruising kiss. Bring it on. She answered his challenge by sucking his lower lip between her teeth and lightly nipping him. A rough sound rumbled out of him, and his body trapped her harder against the wall.

He yanked aside the shoulder strap of her dress and attacked the tender flesh there with urgent, wet kisses. Liquid heat flooded her body. “Cortez, oh God.”

“That was a dangerous stunt,” he muttered between searing kisses.

“So worth it,” she panted, unbuttoning his coat and pushing it over his shoulders. The fabric flopped to the ground.

“You plan to torture me at every turn.” Her other shoulder strap vanished so he could lavish attention on that side.

She went for his belt. “I plan to make you mine again.”

He fisted the hem of her skirt with both hands and yanked the fabric up over her hips. “What if I was never yours?”

There went her thong, now useless scraps. “Yes you were. And I was yours. That hasn’t changed.”

His zipper sounded, and his pants dropped. Less than a second later, they came together in an explosion of heat and fire and madness, his hips thrusting while hers rolled. Then there was no more talking, just bliss and gasps and cries.

As if he felt he should remind her, he grunted, “I don’t date people who work for me.” Even as his rhythm turned frantic.

“You do now, so get used to it.” She kissed him, hard, brutal, hands locked in his hair, heels spurring his hips. Then she pulled back with a final lick of his lips and met his gaze, saying with her eyes everything she couldn’t with words.

His body bucked hard. “We are not dating.”

“Then maybe you should stop fucking my brains out.”

His thrusts took on a brutal, mind blowing, tempo. She threw her head back on a moan, melting into the carnal pleasure and sensation and friction. Never wanting it to stop. Her nails dug into his back as his cock slammed home again and again, drawing screams from her with every blissful thrust.

“I love you,” she blurted.

His hips pounded harder, his body straining. “Fuck me,” he grated, looking pained. Then he buried his face in the crook of her neck. Fangs pierced flesh. She blasted off, screaming into the ceiling. White-hot ecstasy splintered her every nerve. Almost too much to handle, yet could never be enough.

On the verge of his release, his muscles stiffened, and he roared along with her. Together they rode the pleasure till their bodies turned boneless and their brains succumbed to a dizzy stupor. His forehead came to rest against hers, both of them panting, shattering. Or maybe it was just her who felt as though she had to pick up all her pieces.

When she met his gaze, she was stunned by his naked vulnerability. “You have to think about what you’re asking of me.”

He sounded so defeated. It was confusing.

“You’re asking for everything,” he said.

Did he still think she was like the others? “I’m just asking for you. I don’t care about the rest.”

He backed away, going for his clothes. Cool air attacked the places he’d been touching her. “You don’t understand. This isn’t a decision that can be made lightly.” He stabbed one leg into his pants, then the other. As he buttoned up, she shimmied her skirt back into place.

Adrenaline was seeping away, making her feel sluggish. “Why can’t we just be like we were? What’s the big deal? We were having fun. I know I screwed up, taking that job and all, but I didn’t know you then. I didn’t realize what you’d become to me. And, to be fair, I was kind of stuck between a rock and the Boyle twins.”

“It’s not that.” He retrieved his sports coat next, draping it over his arm.

“Then what is it?”

His gaze flooded with an intensity that suddenly gave her chills. “I don’t want to just date you. I want to make you mine.”

She canted her head, not understanding.

He spoke as if putting a nail in a coffin. “If I made you mine, the arrangement would be permanent.”