I spent my Thanksgiving weekend in a hotel, alternating between work and Isabella. Specifically, fantasizing about Isabella while trying to work.
I had a multibillion-dollar deal on the line, and all I could think about was the woman who’d crashed into my life and blown it into a thousand smithereens.
The kiss. The piano room. The two best and worst decisions of my life.
Even now, days later, my mind echoed with Isabella’s cries as she came all over my hand. I’d attended countless symphonies, orchestras, and performances headlined by the best and brightest in the music world, but no song had ever sounded as sweet.
“You’re not even paying attention.” Dante’s irritated voice sliced through the memory like jagged glass through silk.
“Hmm?”
He threw an exasperated stare my way. “I’m trying to help you, asshole. The least you can do is listen. Isn’t that why we’re having this meeting?”
We’d arranged a brainstorm in his office over lunch. Outside our weekly boxing matches, where we had free rein to pummel each other as much as we liked, we often consulted each other on business matters. Granted, I couldn’t take his advice half the time because his solutions bordered on illegal, but it was nice to have an objective third-party sounding board.
“No. I simply missed your cheerful, optimistic personality.” I lifted my water in a mock toast. “You brighten my day.”
“Fuck off.” He snorted, but a shadow of a smile played over his mouth. “Mishra still refusing to meet with you?”
“So far, but he’ll cave.” Colin Whidby was still in the hospital, but his condition had stabilized. He’d pull through. The problem was, he wouldn’t be back on his feet for another few months. The longer we waited, the greater the chance of something going wrong.
My team and I had been working around the clock to close the DigiStream deal before the end of the year, but it was looking less and less likely. Rohan Mishra, the other co-founder, was digging his heels in on certain clauses in the contract and refusing to meet in person. One face-to-face meeting was worth a dozen phone calls.
Dammit, Whidby. If he’d kept his nose out of cocaine long enough to sign the papers, we wouldn’t have this problem. If I screwed up this deal, I would be the laughingstock of the business community. Reputation tarnished. Legacy gone.
My skin itched at the thought.
And yet, despite what was at stake, I couldn’t focus. What happened at Valhalla last week had embedded itself in my psyche like a tree digging its roots into fresh soil. It split my attention, dragging half my mind toward glory and the other toward endless replays of last Wednesday afternoon.
The scent of rose and vanilla. The beautiful flush of Isabella’s skin. The throaty gasp of my name interspersed with her moans.
Heat prickled my skin.
“If you’re really stuck, I know a guy,” Dante said, pulling my attention back to the present again. “He can dig up information that’ll have Mishra folding in no time.”
Right. Mishra. DigiStream. Focus. “Don’t tell me it’s Harper,” I said with a small grimace.
Christian Harper, the CEO of Harper Security, was Dante’s go-to guy for all things tech and security related. We were acquaintances, but he was closer with Dante, who’d been his first client back in the day and was far more comfortable with his black-hat methods. I preferred staying on the right side of the law. My reputation was stainless, and I intended to keep it that way.
Dante shrugged. “You know he can get the job done.”
I shook my head. “I can handle Mishra on my own.” Frankly, I was a touch insulted he thought I’d have to stoop to blackmail to get the other man to sign.
I didn’t lose. Not when I put my mind to something. One way or another, the DigiStream deal would happen.
“It’s your deal,” Dante drawled. “But don’t say I didn’t give you a solution.”
A knock interrupted us, followed by the soft creak of the door opening.
Dante straightened. I didn’t have to turn to know who’d entered; there was only one person who made his eyes light up like that.
“Hi, Vivian,” I said without looking up from my lunch.
She laughed. “Hi, Kai.”
Dante’s wife came around the desk and bent to give him a kiss on the cheek. He turned his head at the last minute so his mouth caught hers instead. Vivian’s cheeks flushed, and my tuna roll suddenly tasted tooth-rottingly sweet.
“My meeting ended early, so I thought I’d surprise you for lunch,” she said a touch breathlessly. She placed two white takeout bags on the desk and gave me an apologetic glance as Dante pulled a chair up next to his. “I didn’t realize you had an appointment. I can come back—”
“No need,” he cut in. “The meeting’s over. Kai has another appointment after this.” He flicked a glance at me. “Close the door on your way out, will you?”
Vivian frowned. “Don’t be rude. Look at his plate. It’s still half-full.”
“He can’t eat all of that. He’s on a diet.” Dante gave me a pointed stare. “Right?”
“Actually, I’m quite hungry today,” I drawled. “One should never let sushi from Masa go to waste, though I am curious about what Vivian brought. It smells wonderful.”
If looks could kill, Dante’s glare would’ve incinerated me on the spot. I returned it with an innocent smile.
After boxing and translation, provoking him was my favorite pastime.
“Burgers, fries, and shakes from Moondust Diner,” Vivian said, pulling the items out of the bags. “Stay. There’s enough for all of us, and we haven’t talked since Monarch.”
I pretended not to hear Dante’s warning growl. I’d already blocked out the hour for our meeting. It would be rude to rebuff Vivian’s generous hospitality.
“If you insist,” I said. “I do love a good burger.”
I was going to pay for that in the boxing ring later, but I wasn’t worried. Dante and I were evenly matched, and it was worth it for the look on his face.
Vivian and I chatted while he scowled. She owned a luxury event planning company, and she had plenty of stories about wild requests and demanding clients, many of whom were mutual acquaintances.
I listened politely, asking and answering questions where needed, but I couldn’t stop my mind from straying to a specific connection we had.
Vivian and Isabella were best friends. Had Isabella mentioned what happened last week to her? Vivian wasn’t acting any differently toward me, so I assumed Isabella hadn’t said a word to her friends.
I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or offended.
“By the way, I won’t be home until late tonight,” Vivian told Dante. “I’m going out with the girls. We’re trying to break Isa’s man ban.”
My water went down the wrong pipe. I choked out a cough while Dante’s brows pulled together.
“What the hell is a man ban?”
“She hasn’t dated anyone in two years because of an…unpleasant experience with an ex,” Vivian explained. “We figured it’s time to break her dry spell.”
Absolutely fucking not. Her dry spell has been broken. By me.
My reaction was so sharp, so visceral, that it knocked the breath from my lungs. I had no frame of reference for the dark, irrational possessiveness coursing through my blood or the crimson tinting my vision at the mere thought of another man’s hands on Isabella. I was not a jealous person, and one kiss and orgasm did not a relationship make.
But it didn’t matter. When it came to Isabella, all my previous mores went out the window.
“Does she want to break the ban, or is this an intervention?” I checked my phone, my tone indifferent, but my muscles tensed in anticipation of Vivian’s reply.
“I’m sure she does. She said she wanted to at our wedding, but in classic Isa fashion, she drank too much champagne and fell asleep before it happened.” Vivian laughed. “Anyway, her birthday is coming up, so we figured it would be a good time to take her out.”
“Where are you going?” I asked casually.
Dante’s eyes cut in my direction. I ignored his laser scrutiny and focused on Vivian.
“Verve. It’s a new club downtown,” she said, seemingly oblivious to her husband’s growing suspicion. “Isa’s been talking about going since it opened.”
“Laurent’s place. I’ve heard of it.” The Laurents built their empire on restaurants, but they were expanding into other areas of hospitality. “I didn’t know her birthday was so soon.”
“December nineteenth. A Sagittarius through and through, as she’ll tell you,” Vivian said with a smile.
“Why the sudden interest in Isabella?” Dante asked. “Finally looking to give your mother the daughter-in-law she so desperately wants?”
I glared at him. Sometimes, I missed the days when all he did was scowl and punch people. Now he had jokes.
“No,” I said coolly. “I’m inquiring about an acquaintance I see quite often. It’s social courtesy—something you might want to brush up on.”
“Ah, of course. My mistake.” If Dante’s smirk were any bigger, it’d fall off his face. The bastard was having a field day. Payback for me staying and interrupting his alone time with Vivian, no doubt.
It didn’t matter. He could gloat all he wanted, but he had no proof I was interested in Isabella. It wasn’t like I was going to show up at Verve and drag her away from potential suitors like some territorial caveman.
I had more pride than that.
