Sleep has never been a solid requirement for me, but a night of hard boozing and endless debauchery definitely makes the morning brighter. Really bright. Like, gas-station levels of brightness are blinding my every step, smacking me right in the face with a JumboTron of fluorescent floodlights.
God help the poor son of a bitch who dares to wish me a good morning.
How I managed to keep my staggering to a minimum on my way to the CEO suite is beyond me. But here I am, staring at a pile of paperwork that may as well be written in Sanskrit.
Doggedly, I flip through page after page, doing my damnedest to make sense of the business at hand. For all I know, my signature on the last page would mean I’ve signed away my soul to the devil for the sins I committed last night and well into this morning.
Is a night of sin worth my soul?
Drumming my fingers on the freshly polished desk, I smile. For a cock that size, it’s worth a hell of a lot more. Just the thought alone is enough to make my fresh pair of panties soaking wet.
Blinking hard, I struggle to clear my blurry vision and my confidence wanes. Should I actually sign anything at all today?
It’s fine. Jean will be with me. And Evie too. Evie may be the biggest pain in the ass, but she’s one hell of an attorney. And probably on the brink of becoming my stepsister.
It doesn’t help that my first meeting this morning is with the representatives of the Alliance. But it’s fine. I just need a little coffee, an aspirin or five, and really dark sunglasses. Fishing an oversized pair from my purse and pushing them firmly up the bridge of my nose, I suddenly remember why I’m not a morning person.
But this should be just a cute little meet and greet with the Alliance. Or the coverup of a company shielding the Alliance.
Still, all they want is a quick and easy check-in—a dozen of their lawyers against a dozen of ours. And maybe, just maybe, it’ll be my one shot at charming them out of the deal.
Who am I kidding? In my condition? The best I can hope for is to say hello coherently and not fall on my ass on the way to my chair.
A quick knock sounds on my door and Evie enters, not bothering to wait for a “come in.”
When she sees me, panic floods her face. “What’s wrong? Are you crying?”
“No,” I say calmly, even though the two of her just burst my eardrum. “I’m fine.”
“Then why are you wearing ginormous sunglasses indoors?”
“I . . . uh . . .” I’m not going to lie, and not because I don't want to. But because I can't think at all, let alone think up anything half convincing. I’m at a loss.
After a slow, assessing scan of me, Evie’s eyes light up as her mouth widens to a giddy smile. “You’re drunk.”
“I am not.” My words are confident, matter of fact, and complete horseshit. Sighing, I drop my head into my hands for a moment, reconsidering that my words might technically be true. “I was drunk last night. I’m in the painful state of inching my way through recovering.”
“Well, fuck. That means you’re relying on me to save your ass. Hey, good news, sis.” Evie emphasizes the last word for effect, forcing me to lower my glasses to give her a full face of unamused squinting. “I found a loophole.”
Encouraged by the news, I sit up. “Really?”
“Well, maybe. So, we know nearly nothing about the Alliance. Because they're all super-secret. My guess is they want to stay that way.” With a slight shrug, I concede the point, and Evie continues. “There’s a stipulation that to be on the Long Multinational board of directors, whoever assumes that role has to give us a financial disclosure.”
“Wait.” I rub my forehead, desperate to make the pounding stop. “You're talking about the board. Why don't we just get back the subsidiaries?”
“Oh, honey. Those are gone. The Alliance controls them fair and square. But companies like that don’t just shit out over a hundred million dollars. It’s a hell of a lot of money. Even for us, and we’re a two-and-a-half-billion-dollar company.”
I love how she says us and the company’s value in the same sentence. I’m quickly coming to terms with the idea that Evie will inevitably be family. Hell, Dad was beside himself with pressuring her mom for an engagement. And the we and us she banters about delightfully only works in my favor.
“All right, so it’s a lot of money. And?” Blame it on the pounding in my head that’s only getting worse as Evie’s pitch excitedly ticks up higher, but for the life of me, I can’t keep up.
“And they didn’t drop it for a bunch of baby companies scattered across the globe. They did it for a seat on the board. So, how do we get out of an arranged marriage?”
Genuinely intrigued, I ask, “How?”
“We’ve got to look so unattractive, their only option is that we’re completely unfuckable.”
“Okay . . .” I blow out a breath. “Now you’ve lost me.”
“The Alliance is the most private company in maybe the world. The Valor Group is no different. And according to the procedural rules, all incoming directors must provide a full disclosure of all assets and financial alliances. If any of their holdings are deemed a conflict of interest, they won't get a seat on the board.”
I give her a few staggered blinks. "Perhaps you missed the part where I'm not firing on all cylinders. I have no idea what you just said."
Generous in not making me work for it, Evie cuts to the chase. "If they want a seat on the board of directors, they can't have a conflict of interest. I'm pretty sure that boss bitches like us can make every-freaking-thing a conflict of interest."
“Evie, despite what I’ve said about you when we were kids . . . or two weeks ago . . . you’re absolutely brilliant.”
“Thank you. And don’t worry. I talk shit about you behind your back too.”
“Nice.”
Evie checks her diamond-studded Rolex, twisting it unnecessarily on her wrist to let the stones give off their extra-bright sparkle.
Picking up her cue, I lob her the question she’s obviously angling for. “New watch?”
“Oh, this?” Evie sings. “Yes. Just a little something from my fiancé. The—”
“Ninth richest man in the world. Yeah, yeah. Got it. You’ve snagged the catch of the century. Now, how long do I have?”
Pursing her lips to a hard line, Evie answers. “In your state? Let’s go with fifteen minutes, as it’ll probably take you twenty-five. What can I do?”
“Send a search party if I’m not there in twenty. I need to grab a coffee.”
“Want me to get it? I don't mind.”
I shake my head, wincing at the pain the movement causes as I push my way to my feet. "The walk will do me good."
* * *
Any number of runners could have fetched my order from the coffee shop across the street, letting me avoid the annoyingly bright sunlight and chipper passersby, but a brisk walk and the chilly air of a Texas morning might be enough to wake me out of my fog.
Pretending for a moment that a huge chunk of my family’s multibillion-dollar empire doesn’t rest entirely on my ability to pull my hard-partying head out of my ass, I peruse the menu board behind the register before making my selection. I deflate, remembering my last hurrah with Jaclyn. To pick myself up, I order her usual drink.
“A double-shot cappuccino with almond milk,” I whisper to the barista, keeping my voice low to avoid piercing my own eardrums with anything above a whisper.
“Her coffee’s on me.”
The deep rumble of a man’s voice from behind me makes me wince, but I keep my sunglasses high on my face and ignore the unstoppable shiver. Seriously? I've been pounded like a schnitzel by the best of them. Must focus on work.
“No, my coffee’s on me,” I say insistently, keeping my voice low and serious enough that the barista nods at me and takes my cash.
Quickly, I grab my cup and turn to head back to the office. With several quick and determined steps to the skyscraper, I can’t move fast enough to avoid the man’s attention.
“Wait up!”
Not a chance.
My new allure is surprising. Men have always approached me in a low-key sort of way, but heavy pursuits like this are unfamiliar. I’m usually in a den of rich, lazy lions who passively sit by, relaxing as they wait for their blow jobs.
Been there. Done that. Got—and burned—the T-shirt.
With a surreptitious whiff of my wrist, I wonder if my new perfume—or pheromones—are the culprits behind my sudden status change to dick magnet.
Confident, I step into the building, unhurried, not concerned that anyone will chase me in here. My pace slows to easygoing as I stroll through the lobby.
Instantly, Evie rushes over, grabbing my arm. “One search party, at your service.”
Confused, I check my phone to see I’ve only been gone ten minutes. “A premature search and rescue? Why?”
“They’re here.”
Taking a deep, calming breath, I suck up my disappointment, cursing inwardly for failing to anticipate a power-play move I’d totally pull myself.
I straighten my blazer and take a deep breath before I lie to Evie. “They’re early. Not unexpected.”
“We opened the conference room, and Jean stalled most of their entourage with a quick tour around. Others went for coffee. But . . .” Evie checks her watch. “She’ll be done soon. And now that you’re back, I need to grab Jaclyn’s intern. This is a fantastic learning opportunity.”
Sipping my coffee and forcing a wry smile, I roll my eyes. “Try to sound less enthusiastic about the worst day of my week-long career.”
“Hey.” Evie gently grips both of my shoulders, boring her gaze straight through the dark-rimmed shades on my face. “There’s no better way to learn than from the colossal, gut-feel business failures of others. It’s a life lesson.”
My low growl is enough to warn Evie to pry her fingers off the elegant Chanel jacket and back away slowly, heading away to the suite of junior offices on the ground floor.
After a hot sip of coffee and gathering every ounce of true Texas grit I can muster, I force my reluctant feet to take me to the elevator, determined to get my head in the game. Or at least pry it halfway out of my ass before I meet a roomful of adversaries.
Initially grateful for the solitude of an empty elevator car for a moment or two, I release a shallow huff of frustration that’s distinctly audible as some poor son of a bitch dares slip through the closing door.
“Today seems to be my lucky day,” he says, finishing his statement with a word that grabs my undivided attention. “Temptress.”
Fixed on his last word, I tug off the dark glasses, melting into his suggestive smile and the golden flecks sparkling in his hazel eyes. “Coop. How did you find me?”
Resting a palm on the wall behind me, he pins me with the intensity of his stare, with a morning-after stubble ten times hotter than his clean-shaven look from the night before. “Same way I found you last night.”
My heart pounds wildly when his grin widens as he leans his hot body closer to mine.
“Fate,” he whispers against my lips before laying a sizzling kiss on them.
Trapped between the cool wall and the scorching heat of a man destined to tear down my crumbling defenses, I kiss him back. Between the heat of his lips and his massive hand working the small of my back, my knees turn to Jell-O. It’s the perfect excuse to grab hold of his solid shoulders.
His tongue teases my mouth before pulling away far sooner than I’d like. “Now can I buy you coffee?”
A rush of heat floods my neck and cheeks. “That was you?” Wincing, I drop my head against the sinfully solid muscles of his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m preoccupied.”
Playfully, he brushes a strand of hair from my face, tucking it loosely behind my ear. “Rough night?”
Somehow, his mocking me puts the biggest smile on my face. Coop is a welcome, although tragically brief distraction, from the day ahead.
My floor arrives with a ping that deflates me instantly. My arrogant decisions of last week are upon me, and I’m now promptly delivered to the fresh hell of lasting consequences.
“Coop, I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
In a hurry, I pull away from the delectable warmth of his arms and walk away. But his footsteps close in on me, with the man of a million orgasms hot on my heels.
Unfazed, he catches up and strolls effortlessly beside me. “Big day? Me too. How about I get a last name? Or a phone number?”
He catches me off guard, and I turn, fully facing him. “You have business here?”
Eagerly, he nods and looks around. “Actually, right here. I think.” The doubt in his voice is rectified as he scans about. With a glance at his phone, he regains his certainty as he eyes the elevator sign, verifying his whereabouts. “Yes. This is the floor. I’m going to the conference room. You?”
Confusion creases my brow. Before I can answer, Jean approaches.
“Good,” she says too unconvincingly to hide. “The two of you have met.”
“M-met?” I stutter, watching the smile on Coop’s handsome face pull to a serious line. It changes his look entirely and in the hardest ways, dulling the sparkle from the eyes now studying me.
“Well, everyone’s in place,” Jean says. “We’ll get started whenever you’re ready.” Her gaze pings between Coop and me, waiting for some sign of acknowledgment from either of us.
My heart sinks, and I’m charged with so many emotions, I’m not sure where to start. Willfully or not, I’ve apparently committed the deadliest of deadly corporate sins.
Thou shalt not cavort with the competition, nor sleep with the enemy.
And I sure as hell shouldn’t have made Coop’s cock my personal bounce house, mercilessly freewheeling his body until the poor bastard gave all he had and passed out cold.
Emotionless, Coop stares back.
Swallowing the ball of nerves lodged in my throat, I regretfully scan his lickable body, forcing myself to imagine off limits tattooed over every delectable muscle.
“Ladies first,” he says, gesturing toward the oversized double doors of the conference room with a rekindled heat in his gaze that shoots straight to my core.
I’m dead.