What do you call a treasure hunt when nobody can find the treasure?

Boring.

It’s two days since we all converged at the estate, and despite searching every square inch of the place, we’ve all got nothing. Bupkis. Nada.

“I’m missing something,” Max says, pacing frustratedly. “There’s got to be a piece I’m not fitting together.”

I watch him, concerned now. It’s past midnight, and I don’t think the guy’s had more than a couple of hours of sleep in days: there are dark shadows under his eyes, and his shoulders are hunched with tension.

“You need to get some sleep,” I tell him. “Come at it with fresh eyes tomorrow.”

“There isn’t time.” Max brushes off my concern. “You think Artie or Parker are sleeping?”

Probably not. They’ve kicked into high gear, too: bringing in guys in dark suits to prowl the grounds like FBI agents searching for evidence. This place is full of lawyers, threatening all kinds of suits against Franklin—who, of course, just smirks and ignores them—and I swear I almost tripped over a scientist with a lab coat and beaker out in the gardens yesterday. Don’t ask me what the hell he was testing for.

A whole lot of effort, and no one has any prize to show for it.

Max slams his laptop shut in frustration. “It has to be here. Maybe he just picked a random spot and buried it in the lawn.”

“Don’t say that again,” I warn him wryly. “Your cousins will have bulldozers out in the yard before sunrise. I’m kind of surprised they haven’t started demolishing this place yet.”

“Believe me, they would if they could.” Max leans back in his seat, looking exhausted. “But this is all Grandpa’s property—until the minute someone finds that final prize.”

I glance out of the windows. They’re flung open, the warm night breeze drifting in and moonlight glimmering off the ocean in the distance.

I take his hand. “Come with me.”

Max leaps up. “Where? Did you think of something?”

“No. But you need a break.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” I tug firmly. “You’ve been going around in circles for days. Clear your head, relax a little. Who knows, maybe it’ll spark something?”

Max makes another noise of protest, but he doesn’t resist. He follows me outside, and down the path towards the ocean.

“We’ve already checked the yacht. A dozen times.”

“You’ve got a one-track mind, buddy,” I say, as we reach the beach. It’s a pale crescent in the moonlight, and I kick off my shoes, wriggling my feet in the warm sand. “But I bet I can make you forget all about the treasure hunt.”

“Oh yeah?” Max doesn’t look convinced. But that’s before I strip my shirt off and wriggle out of my skirt. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” I grin, stripped down to my underwear. “Skinny dipping.”

“You can’t skinny dip with clothes on.” Max moves closer, his hands skimming over my bare waist. But he’s not looking frustrated or bored anymore. No, that heat in his eyes is pure hunger.

“Then it’s a good thing you’re here to take them off me,” I smile, flirty.

He chuckles. “If this is your idea of a distraction . . .”

I take my bra off.

“ . . . it’s an excellent one,” Max finishes. He reaches for me, but I duck away.

“Race you!” I cry, and dash across the sand. I hit the water, splashing through the shallows, and then dive in. The water feels amazing against my bare skin, and I lie back, letting the salt buoy me up. There’s a splashing noise, and then Max joins me. And yes, he’s abiding by the rules of skinny dipping, too.

“Too slow!” I call, smiling.

“You had a head start.”

He grins and kisses me, and I drink him in, sinking into the dance of our tongues and the stroke of his hands up my naked body. Heat surges through me. Everything he does feels so fucking good. I want to just drown myself in him.

I run my hands over the ridge of muscle in his shoulders, naked and wet from the tide. Max makes a low groan of pleasure and kisses me harder. He cups my breast, teasing his thumb over the peak until I whimper, and then his hand is sliding lower, between my legs.

I gasp. I can’t believe we’re doing this, out here for anyone to see. But the moon slips behind a cloud, and the water hides his slow, insistent stroking, and soon I’m whimpering his name over and over.

“Oh God, Max . . .”

He watches my face as his hand rocks against my core. Every pulse of his fingers sends me higher. The desire in his expression only makes me more giddy. He plunges deeper.

“Come for me, Hallie.” He nips at my neck, his voice a low, commanding growl. “Come for me. Right now.”

Who am I to resist such a sexy order? His thumb sweeps over my clit, and the water swells around our chests, and I break apart in his arms with a gasp.

Yes.

---

After I come back down to earth, my fingertips are pruning in the water. Real sexy. “How about we take this to dry land?” I suggest, and we wade back to shore. We’re just reaching the heap where we left our clothes when I hear voices carrying, and the swoop of flashlights.

“Someone’s coming!” I panic. It’s got to be one of the cousins or their crew, but the last thing I want is a family reunion while I’m naked and covered in post-coital flush.

“Quick, this way.” Max grabs my hand, and I clutch my dress against my body, hopefully protecting my modesty as we dash through the shadows. Max skirts the main path, and yanks me to a low, sleek cabin set just back from the beach. We burst through the door, and Max eases it shut behind us. I peer out from behind the blinds.

“I don’t think they saw us.”

“Good.”

His voice is right behind me, and then his hands are hot on my body. I turn, and Max kisses me until my head is spinning and the rest of my body is begging for more.

“What is this place?” I ask breathlessly, coming up for air. In the dim light I can make out a living area with couches, and some kind of bar . . .

“Beach cabana,” Max answers, sounding distracted. His hands rove lower. “So you don’t have to go back to the main house for a drink.”

Of course. Any other time, I would marvel at the excess, but right now, I’m just thanking whatever moneybags designer came up with this bright idea. Because there’s no way I can make it back to our bedroom, not with Max right here against me: naked, and wet, and so fucking perfect. I run my hands down his chest, reaching for his hard length. But Max captures my hands away.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

He pushes me back on one of the soft couches and leans over me, dropping more hot kisses down my throat. His fingertips skim over my breasts with a torturously light touch that leaves me aching. Then his mouth closes over one nipple, the sweep of his tongue drawing it to a sharp peak in an instant. I moan, tangling my fingers in his hair, but it’s still not enough. I slide my hand down his body and grip his cock. “I need you,” I moan. “I need all of you.”

“You’ve got me, sweetheart,” he says. He finds a condom from his pants and rolls it on, pushing me back deeper into the cushions. I pull him down to cover me again, hungry to feel him, and then—yes—he’s pressing into me inch by blissful inch until I’ve never felt so full.

Max sets a steady, almost gentle pace. Gliding out and thrusting back into me with strokes that leave me quivering. Drawing out the pleasure, and fuck, what pleasure it is. It’s like he knows exactly what to do to leave me moaning, when to fuck me harder, and when to leave me strung out on the edge.

“Please,” I’m gasping. “Oh God, don’t stop.”

“Never.” His voice is a low growl in my ear. Max slams into me again, harder this time. “Fuck, Hallie, you feel so good. I’ve never been with anyone who makes me feel like you do.”

He thrusts deeper, his cock hitting that special spot inside, and my answer is lost in a moan. I’m almost beyond words now. “Me too.” I manage to hold on tight. “Oh, God. Right there. Don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t. I’m so close, so fucking close, and then Max pauses, and grasps my chin, turning my face up to meet his heavy-lidded gaze, and fuck, just seeing the pure, animal desire in his eyes is too much for me. I come undone just like that, losing my breath in the surge of pleasure that crashes over me, again and again. Max groans, and with a shudder, he follows me over the edge.

Damn. That was . . .

Incredible. Epic.

Real.

Max collapses beside me, and then wordlessly tugs me into his arms to spoon. I snuggle back against him, perfectly worn out. My eyes are starting to glaze over as my gaze drifts around the room. It’s practically as fancy as our guest suite. Cushy couches, framed pictures all over the walls. Trust Franklin Carlisle to turn even his beach cabana into an art gallery . . .

Somewhere in my half-asleep brain, a memory sparks.

Carlisle publications have always been a window to the world. In fact, this very building used to be the tallest in the city, before the Empire State Building was constructed.

My pulse stutters. I sit up with a jolt.

“What?” Max asks, raising his head.

“I think I know where the prize is.” My heart beats faster. “The Carlisle Publishing building in New York!”

I quickly explain about my conversation with Ernest, what seems like a hundred years ago . . . but was only last week. “There’s a gallery there, that’s what he could mean. The photographs are the windows to the world. ”

Max’s eyes widen. “That could be it. No wonder he’s been laughing at us for hanging around here.”

My brain is already two steps ahead. “Do you think we can get out of here to investigate without anyone noticing?”

Max grins. “Oh, I know how to go into full-on stealth mode. We’ll be in New York before they even realize we’re gone.”