THE AIR LEFT GABE’S LUNGS and the tension that had been holding him rigid abated. She believed him. Berlin watched the video and instead of assuming the worst about his cousin, she saw what he saw. He couldn’t explain why what she thought mattered so much to him, but damn it, it did.

“Did she rape him?”

She didn’t couch her language or call it something less—like take advantage of or assault. Even he hadn’t been as direct when he and Blake had spoken about what happened. And she didn’t blame his cousin for what happened. There was no talk about how much he’d had to drink or what he was wearing. She headed straight for the truth. It was so unlike what he expected from her and it bugged the shit out of him that he’d spent the past hour icing her out because he hadn’t been able to give her the benefit of the doubt. He’d been an asshole.

“I don’t know.” God, he’d give just about anything to give Blake and Samantha that kind of closure. They both had to be assuming the worst. The evidence pointed that way. “She certainly had an opportunity to.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry.” She reached for his hand, twining her fingers with his in a show of solidarity that took his tension down another couple of notches. “God, this has to be killing him and Samantha.”

“I think it’s a little easier now that she knows.” He’d loved the woman his cousin married like family because she was family, but seeing the way she supported Blake, holding onto him and standing beside him, made him love her even more.

“He got tested, right?”

Gabe nodded. He didn’t think he’d ever met anyone quite as practical as she was, and given his profession, that was saying something. He searched her face, watching her run through the possibilities and combinations in that gorgeous head of hers.

“She knew exactly where to find him and exactly where the cameras were. Does Blake usually stay there?”

“Occasionally when he’s in Westport on business, but not often enough for it to be considered a pattern.” He checked his cousin’s expense reports with accounting to see how often he’d been to the Regency. It was a handful of times over the past year but there was no rhyme or reason to it. Either the woman somehow got a hold of his schedule or she saw him at the hotel and took advantage of the opportunity.

“Did anyone from the hotel recognize her?”

Her mind was heading down the same paths his had. He loved the way she was working through the situation, trying to find answers to a problem that didn’t belong to her.

“No. I interviewed the bartender who served them. She didn’t think she’d ever seen the woman before. The head of security was actually really helpful.”

“Of course he was. They can’t afford for something like this to get out. Not connected to someone with Blake’s influence.”

It was hard for him to remember the dark-haired, skinny kid he’d climbed trees and raced bikes with over the summer had grown into one of America’s most prominent businessmen. Her words echoed Benson’s. The man had been adamant about the video not leaking.

“The thing is,” said Berlin, her mind clearly still puzzling over the details. “She might have gotten his schedule somehow, but she didn’t trip up at all with the cameras. She knew exactly where they were.” She ran a hand through her hair, absentmindedly tucking a strand behind her ear. “She could have heard he was going to be there and gone looking for the cameras ahead of time.”

“That’s it.” He felt like an idiot for not putting it together earlier himself. “I didn’t look back far enough.”

He dropped to his knees beside the chair and spun her to face him, caging her in place with his arms. Her eyes widened and her lips curved with the hint of a smile. He saw her pulse jump at her throat and the urge to press his mouth to the spot and feel her heartbeat under his lips hit him like a truck.

“Can you run the security feed from before Blake’s visit through the facial recognition software?” Her tongue darting out to touch her bottom lip was the only hint he had of her nerves.

“Yes. Benson should be able to pull the feed. If she’s on it, we’ll find her.”

“She has to be on it. How else would she know about the cameras?”

She was right. It wasn’t a sure thing by any stretch of the imagination, but at least he had a place to start again.

“Thank you,” he said, catching and holding her gaze. “I know I was an asshole in the car. Not being able to fix this for my family is tearing me up, but that’s no reason to take it out on you. I’m sorry.”

She nodded, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. This time he didn’t even try to fight his impulse. Between one breath and the next, he closed the distance between them and claimed her mouth with his. She leaned into him, her hunger matching his. Making demands with her mouth that he ached to answer.

Her lips parted, and he groaned as her tongue met his. God, she was sweet. Like vanilla and bourbon, and he breathed her in, sliding his hands over the bare skin of her arms to cup her face. He wanted more—needed more. Using his hands to anchor her to him, he gave in to what he’d wanted to do all night. Since he saw her in that wisp of a dress that was so blue it was almost black against her pale skin.

Since before that if he was being honest, and he was; the time for artifice was long past. He’d wanted her since the first moment he saw her, sitting in the bar, eating her steamed vegetables and plain chicken. Everything that happened between them since had been building to this moment, adding to the heat burning between them.

Berlin slid her hands to his face, mirroring his touch. Her fingers brushed the bare skin of his neck and she sucked in a breath, stealing his. They tasted and teased, learning the curve of each other’s lips, catching each other’s sighs. His hands cradled her face and he gave himself completely to her kiss without touching her anywhere else. It was as if they both realized once they crossed that line, they wouldn’t be able to stop.

He didn’t want to take her in his cousin’s empty office, not with the cloud hanging over Blake in the space all around them. He didn’t want to just be someone she fucked. He wanted more. He wanted to hold her in his arms and learn every one of her secrets—the truths behind the image she projected—and then he wanted to stretch her out on his bed and spend days learning her body. Exploring every dip and valley and curve of her breast until he knew the paths to her pleasure better than his own.

With a Herculean effort, he managed to pull back from the kiss, resting his forehead against hers, unwilling to break the contact between them even as he struggled for control. For a moment, they simply breathed together, leaning into each other.

“I should go,” she said, her reluctance giving him hope that she wanted him the way he wanted her. That he wasn’t in this alone.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and stood. If he waited, he’d kiss her, and he didn’t know if he could bring himself to stop again. Reaching for her hand, he helped her to her feet and led her out of the office and down the hall. The sooner he got her buckled into the car and away from him, the better chance he had of holding fast to his already fraying resolve.

––––––––

BERLIN HIT THE snooze on her alarm three times before she finally dragged herself out of bed, and she’d been walking around, only halfway present, ever since. She’d been looking at the same set of tear sheets for the past two hours and she wasn’t any closer to making a decision on photos and copy than she had been when she started. It was as if her brain had taken an indefinite holiday she couldn’t afford.

She blamed Gabe. He was the one who kissed her—first in Blake’s office with a heat that laid waste to all the arguments she had for why they shouldn’t take the next step, and then later when he dropped her off at the door to the apartment she’d sublet while she finished the job for Southern Mark. In some ways, the second kiss was more unsettling than the first.

The first kiss promise naked, sweaty passion with multiple orgasms she had no doubt he could deliver. When he’d claimed her lips, she’d been more than ready to meet the fire he stoked with his mouth. He’d barely touched her, keeping his hands on her face, but his tongue and the smoky Scotch taste of him drove her on with a ferocity that stole her breath and vaporized the remnants of her resistance. One kiss from him and she’d been ready to let go of her better sense and follow him over the cliff. The fact he’d been the one to pull back irritated her to no end. She was supposed to be the one in control. The one to make him lose his mind while she took her pleasure and kept her sanity. Control, stopping and holding lines—that was her thing. She didn’t like ceding it to him.

She’d convinced herself that he had enough sense not to take her on his cousin’s desk. On a less hormonally driven level, she’d felt the same. Despite the fact she’d been caught up in the taste and feel of him, Blake’s violation still lay too close to the surface for an impromptu office thing to do anything other than shatter the norms of propriety. By the time they’d gotten back to Gabe’s car, she’d been silently thanking him for his restraint.

She’d expected to invite him in when they got to her place. The short car ride gave her a chance to compartmentalize her feelings and be sure she could cross the line with Gabe without wrecking anything professionally. He might not be the man she thought he was the first night at the bar, but he didn’t strike her as a guy looking for anything other than a good time. If the heat in his kiss was a little unnerving, it didn’t have to push things outside her comfort level: scorching hot sex between two consenting adults with no promise of forever, or even next week.

Except when they pulled in to her place, he left the car running when he got out to walk her to the door. And in that moment, she quickly rejected the don’t you want to come in moment. He clearly didn’t. Guys expecting to get laid turned off the car. Hell, even guys with unrealistic hopes that they might get laid turned off the car. The only guys who left the car running were the ones who didn’t want to come in and there was no way on God’s green earth she was setting herself up for that kind of rejection. They could have sex and work together. But if he shot her down after turning her on so effortlessly, she’d have to hurt him. Better not to even walk that road. At least he’d had the decency to get one of his guys to drop her car off for her so she wouldn’t have to catch a ride to work. He might not intend to close the deal, but the man was a whiz at logistics.

Which might have been the end of it, at least for the night, if he hadn’t kissed her again with a hunger that made her come way to close to abandoning her better sense and dragging him into the apartment. He wanted her the same way she wanted him. She’d bet every dime she had on it. So why not close the deal? She’d given him every indication she’d be receptive to his offer. He just never made one. In the end, he pressed his lips to her forehead, holding her as if she were the most precious thing in the world, and then he’d walked away, waiting in the car until she closed the door after her and turned off the porch light.

She’d spent the rest of the night and into the gray light of dawn tossing and turning alone in her bed, puzzling through his response and was no closer to understanding what happened. And she got to add exhausted next to sexually frustrated on her list of things she blamed Gabe Southerland for.

She stood, in a lame attempt to get the blood moving to her brain. Maybe a quick walk to the breakroom for an extra dose of caffeine would save what was left of her morning from a complete lack of productivity. Thank goodness the Edison team was gone. She had some interviews to confirm and some seeds to plant with reporters but her schedule was uncharacteristically light for the next couple of days. She ought to follow up with Eva. Just to make sure there wasn’t anything weird there after the bowling alley thing and to keep the benefits of the merger in the front of her mind. Her father would ultimately be the one to pull the trigger, but it wouldn’t hurt to have his sales department pulling in the direction Berlin wanted. Rocking back on her heels to stretch her calves, she bent over her desk and jotted a reminder.

She didn’t need to turn around to know Gabe had walked through her open door. She felt it, like some kind of disturbance in the Force. Almost as if he displaced more air than he should and everything else in the space around him had to compensate.

“Fuck, woman. You’re killing me.” His voice came out on a low rumble as she heard the snitch of her office door click shut.

Her pulse set up a steady tempo at her throat and in an instant, her body zinged from distracted to hyper-alert. The man was dangerous and not just because of what he did for a living. He was dangerous to her and her carefully constructed rules. She could fight it or she could do what she was best at—decide what she wanted and go get it. She wanted Gabe naked and hard and moving inside her, and she wanted so many orgasms she lost count and had to start again. She wanted the kind of sex that made a bad decision irrelevant. And she wanted all of that sometime within the next twenty-four hours.

Instead of straightening, she arched her back, thrusting her ass in his direction and glancing back over her shoulder at him. She knew the position emphasized the length of her legs in her black Louboutin heels and the stretch of her camel twill skirt hugged her curves in a way—if the expression on Gabe’s face were any indication—that made him lose his concentration for a change. Or laser-focused it. He closed the distance between them and in two steps, she felt him pushed up against her, the thick, hard length of him riding the seam of her ass. His hand gripped her hips and she felt his fingertips dig into her flesh hard enough to leave bruises.

Instead of feeling trapped, she found herself rocking back to meet him, wanting more. Oblivious to all the reasons they shouldn’t be doing this here—at work, in her office. The door was closed, but anyone who walked in would know what they were doing. There would be no way to hide it.

“I’m going to let go of you, and you are going to stand up and move around to the other side of your desk,” he commanded, his voice sounding strained. “I’m hanging on by a thread here. If I move, I’m afraid I’m going to push that skirt up over your hips, bare that sweet ass of yours and fuck you from behind.”

As if to emphasize his point, he ran his hands over her hips down to the hemline of her skirt and the bare skin of her thighs. His touched burned hot against her tender flesh and the only coherent thought she seemed able to form was more.

“I need your help, Berlin. Give me some of that iron-will control of yours and get that gorgeous body of yours to the other side of the desk before I do something to embarrass us both.”

Maybe it was that he asked for help. Maybe it was because he acknowledged her control. Whatever it was, his words broke her free and she straightened reluctantly. Instead of urging her around the desk as he’d insisted, he slid his arms around her, sheltering her with his body. His lips pressed against the sensitive skin of her neck and she felt his breath hot and demanding against the shell of her ear.

“I want to make love to you so much I almost took you in my cousin’s office. So much it’s taking every bit of my control to keep from bending you back over your desk.”

She sucked in her breath, her body softening at the picture he painted with his words.

“The only thing that’s making it possible to stand here with you in my arms like this is the promise that when we make love, I am going to take all the time I want to explore every inch of you. I’m going to memorize every sound you make when you come. The ones that let me know when you’re close and the ones you make when I take you over the edge, and I’m going to replay them over and over again until they are as familiar to me as breathing.”

She heard the soft whimper, the sound so unfamiliar, it took a moment for her to realize it came from her.

“I can’t touch you now because I know once I start, I won’t be able to stop until I get enough of you, and I’m beginning to think that might never happen,” he said, his voice strained.

Her chest tightened in anticipation, which was wrong. Forever was supposed to be the farthest thing from either of their minds. She just didn’t seem to be able to get her body to remember why. He squeezed her tighter, inhaling against her hair in a way that somehow managed to tie them together. When he let her go, her traitorous body was more than content to follow him, leaning toward him as if they were tethered. She had to talk herself step by step through how to move away from him, putting one shaky step in front of the other until she made it to the opposite side of the desk.

Even with four feet of slick laminate between them, she felt the pull of his body on hers like some kind of mini reenactment of the moon on the tides. But at this point, she couldn’t say who orbited whom and she was afraid to guess for fear she wouldn’t like the answer. Counting her inhale for four and out for eight, she willed her racing heart to slow, not at all surprised when her body ignored her. Something about Gabe Southerland’s wicked intent broke all of her rules.

“Did you have a reason for stopping by?” she asked as soon as she was sure her voice wouldn’t shake. Maybe she could get her bearings again if she ignored—at least for the moment—whatever this thing was between them. She compartmentalized like it was an Olympic sport and she was a gold medal winner. She’d just put her feelings for Gabe in a box to look at later. When he was far, far away and her hormone-saturated brain had some kind of chance at objectivity.

“I did, actually,” he said, his lips quirking up at the corner in a way that started her fantasizing about kissing all the smugness out of his expression. His gaze caught hers, going dark for a moment. “If you keep looking at me like that, we’re never going to get out of this room and that would be a shame because I have a new plan. One that has a bed and an endless stretch of hours at the end of it. Want to hear about it?”

“You can tell me,” she said, aiming for nonchalance and ending up nowhere near it. He’d already caught her looking at him as if he was something good to eat. Even she couldn’t sell indifference at this point.

“I’ve got to go to Westport. The hotel security won’t send me a remote link to the video storage from the security cameras. I barely got them to agree to let me look at it onsite. I’d rather go through legal channels if I can.”

She didn’t want to spend too much time thinking about what other options he had available. Adding badass to his list of characteristics was unlikely to diminish her attraction. If anything, it would make it worse. She was a slut for competence porn, and she had a feeling Gabe could deliver in spades. She also knew without a doubt he’d do whatever he could to save his cousin and his family.

“I was coming to tell you I wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. But then you were in here, bent over, looking like...fuck, never mind.” He waved his hand in front of him and she bit her lip to keep from smiling. It was nice to know he was in as deep as her. “Come with me. You’re the only one who’s actually seen the woman we’re looking for. You have the best chance of recognizing her. Help me go through the tapes and then spend the night with me. Please.”

His last word reverberated through her and she knew her answer without thinking about it. She might spend a few precious minutes, spinning herself a line about how she was going to help Samantha and Blake and not because of the promise of a night alone with Gabe. And part of that might be true, but a partial truth was still a lie and she’d learned a long time ago that lying to herself paid the kind of dividends she couldn’t afford.

“Okay.”

––––––––

GABE HADN’T BEEN sure how he’d be able to concentrate on work with Berlin sitting close enough to him in the small security office that their legs brushed every time one of them moved. The tedium of scanning hours—days—of security footage barely made a dent in his rampant thoughts. Thoughts more inclined to picture Berlin stretched out naked on a clean white bed calling out his name while he moved inside her than to finding some unnamed woman on grainy film.

In the end, she’d been the one who made it possible for him to move forward. She’d taken up the task of going through the tapes preceding Blake’s visit with a single-minded determination. It left him no choice but to focus on integrating the facial recognition software and helping her move as quickly as possible through the video feed.

He could have just run the feed through the software at an accelerated pace and wait for it to find a hit, but Berlin insisted on scanning the video too. The fact that she was willing to stare for hours on end at the screen in order to try to help his cousin made his heart clench. She was nothing like the woman he’d assumed she was the first time he saw her. She was so much more.

Her razor-sharp intellect made her seem cold at first, but he’d started to see her demeanor for what it was—a careful way of moving through the world that meant she didn’t have to apologize for impetuous mistakes. She painted pictures of the world the way she wanted it to be. An image he’d assumed she didn’t believe in but now realized she had some reason to distrust. It didn’t, however, stop her from seeing the possibilities or, he believed, from wanting them. He needed to understand why she assumed the worst in people when she was so clearly capable of changing her opinions and he wanted to help her see a different side.

“Any luck?” asked Benson, the head of security for the hotel.

The man had been a lot less helpful this time than the first time Gabe showed up. He could tell the man had wanted to send him packing. It had been Berlin who’d finally been able to charm the reluctant man into producing the video feeds for the two weeks preceding Blake’s visit. They’d started with the day before and worked their way back. By the time they hit a week out, it was obvious Benson thought they were on a wild-goose chase. He seemed content to indulge Berlin for now, but Gabe didn’t want to put money on how long that would last.

“Not yet,” she said, not bothering to glance up. She’d been staring at the images flash by on the screen for so long. If she didn’t take a break soon, he was going to have to make her take one.

“I know you all don’t want to hear this,” said Benson, touching the keypad to stop the video. Berlin’s head snapped up and he could just imagine the look she was giving the head of security. Gabe would have bet by the way the other man rocked back on his heels it was her peel the flesh off an unwary male look. He’d been on the receiving end of that look often enough to know it packed a significant punch. “I think you need to accept that despite what he’s telling you, your boss probably had an affair.”

“Occam’s razor, I remember,” said Gabe. He had to give it to the guy; he had some balls.

Berlin hit Benson with a look that could cut glass and Gabe could practically feel the temperature of the room plummet.

“You mean the bullshit simple answer is best theory? No.” She shook her head as if there was no need for further discussion and Gabe made the chicken shit choice to sit back and leave Benson to deal with her on his own. His fear was for the head of security, not for the woman who was quickly on her way to owning his heart. Not that he’d ever let her know that. Much better to keep his feelings under the radar until he was sure they were reciprocated, or at least welcomed. He was pretty sure sharing the way he felt about Berlin with her was the fastest way to make sure he never saw her naked. That would be a tragedy.

“What do you mean no?” The other man had let his confusion make him lose track of his opponent. The purple-haired pixie was going to own his ass. “Why would you assume it was anything more complicated than an affair? They happen.”

“Of course, they happen. Your sex spends way too much time thinking with your dicks and mine occasionally makes bad choices.” The way she said it made it clear she thought the latter was a far rarer occurrence. “The fact that something often happens has no bearing on what happened to Mr. Southerland. While he stayed at your establishment, he was at best taken advantage of and at worst assaulted. For now, my interest is in finding the truth and bringing the person involved to justice. There is no reason to include the hotel in any of that.”

She paused and Gabe watched the security guy relax. He wanted to warn the poor bastard, but honestly, he’d brought it on himself. Any man with half a brain would realize they had no chance fighting with a woman like Berlin. Better to roll over and escape balls intact.

“But.” She punched the word and Benson sucked in a breath. “If you stand in my way or the way of this investigation, I will make sure every media outlet on the East Coast knows how dangerous your hotel is and the possibility of guests being assaulted. I will run the most comprehensive PR campaign you’ve ever seen and by the time I’m finished, you’ll be competing for business with Holiday Inn. Express.”

Gabe had to sit on his hands to keep from clapping. Applause would ruin the effect and the very last thing he wanted was for her to turn her outrage on him. At least not until he could get her alone and channel the indignation into passion.

“Let me know when you’re done with the room,” said Benson, turning on his heels without waiting for a reply.

“Way too much time thinking with your dicks?” He repeated her words when they were alone again.

“Tell me it isn’t true,” she said, touching the pad to start the video rolling again.

They’d already gone back over a week and a half. Still no hit and soon they’d arrive at the time before even Blake knew he’d be staying at the Regency, let alone anyone else. He didn’t want to go home and explain to his cousin that they hadn’t found a single lead. He deserved better than that.

“No ma’am,” he said, grinning at her when she shot him a look.

Her expression softened and her lips curved in the barest hint of a smile before she turned back to the screen.

“He’s right,” she said softly and for a moment he wondered if she was talking to herself or him. “But not this time.”

“No, not this time,” he agreed. “Not even most times. The men I know—the men in my family and the ones I work with—don’t cheat.”

“My experience has been different than yours.”

He waited, hoping if he gave her enough room she’d show him why she was so quick to condemn the male of the species. Despite the way she ripped into Benson, she didn’t strike him as a man hater and she certainly didn’t seem out to prove anything. It was more like she’d adjusted her expectations so they didn’t include anything—fidelity, love, support—from men. She didn’t assume it, so she wasn’t disappointed when it didn’t show up. The thought hit Gabe almost like a prime directive. He wanted her to expect things from him and he wanted to exceed those expectations every time until she learned to trust again.

The computer let out a shrill beep and beside him, Berlin jumped in the chair. Together they peered at the image frozen on the screen. It was a woman, but she didn’t look anything like the photo from the bowling alley. Facial recognition software was more art than science, but it still usually got closer than what they were looking at.

“That’s not her, is it?” she asked, squinting and focusing her full attention on the screen. “It doesn’t look like her.”

“The software must have some kind of glitch,” he said, reaching toward the pad to start the video rolling again. With each frame that scrolled past, he was getting more discouraged. He really thought they had a lead.

“Wait a minute,” she said, laying her hand on his to stop him. “Is there a way for you to focus in on her face and make the image larger?”

He moved the cursor to the edge of the woman’s face and clicked and dragged a box over her head. Two more clicks and he had her head isolated and blown up to fit the screen. At that resolution, the image was pixelated, but now that he looked at it, there was something familiar about the face. The woman on the screen had much darker hair than the woman Berlin described and the one in the photo from the bowling alley but either could be wigs. The woman on the screen in front of him was slight and noticeably thinner than the woman at the bowling alley.

“I suppose she could have been wearing padding,” he said, giving voice to his thoughts.

“Maybe,” said Berlin, her head tipped to the side and her hair framing her face in a shiny multihued sheet. “It’s a significant difference.” She kept her gaze focused on the image for a moment longer and then he heard her suck in her breath on a gasp. “Oh God, what if she’s pregnant?”