Finally, I spot him while I’m standing on the balcony. He’s on the front steps. I’m about to call his name, but then I notice there’s a woman standing next to him. Tall. Brunette. Glistening red dress. Diamonds around her neck. Arm around Asher’s waist.

  His Maserati Levante stops right in front of them and the valet gets out. As Asher goes around the front of the vehicle to take the driver’s seat, the butler opens the door to the passenger side and the woman slips in. Asher gets in the car and it heads down the private road leading out of the property, the same road we took coming in. Within seconds, the vehicle disappears from sight.

  For a while, I just stand there on the balcony gripping the railing, frozen and numb. The scene I just saw of Asher leaving with another woman plays over and over inside my head until it finally sinks in.

  Asher left the party. With another woman. Even though he came to the party with me. Even though he asked me to come to this party with him. Even though he kissed me and said he’d come back to me.

  My chest constricts. My heart feels like it’s being crushed. I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to jump from this balcony. Instead, I go inside. I lean against a wall and slap my forehead.

  Stupid Violet! Did you really think he cared about you? Because he asked you out? Because he was nice to you? Because he kissed you? Did you really think he would come back after you rejected him? Of course he wasn’t going to. Sex was all he was after, and since you rejected him, he had no reason to hang out with you.

  Unbelievable. But at the same time, I should have expected it. I should have known sex was all Asher was after. I should have known he’d discard me as soon as he realized he had no use for me. I should have known he wouldn’t even have the decency to drive me home.

  I should have known Asher Hawthorne would break my heart.

  No. I knew it was a possibility, but I went out with him anyway. I allowed myself to be swayed by his sweet words anyway. I opened up to him anyway. I kissed him anyway.

  And now, here I am in this pretty dress, my cheeks cold, my feet sore and my heart torn to pieces.

  This is what I get for daring to dream.

  But I know better now. Even though I feel like breaking down, I hold my shoulders square. Even as I shatter, I’m turning my resolve into steel.

  I’m going to forget all about Asher Hawthorne, and I’m never going to let any man make a fool of me again, no matter how handsome or wealthy or clever he is.

  Never again.

  Chapter One

  Asher

  Five years later…

  So we meet again.

  I stare at Violet Cleary as she stands on the descending escalator in a yellow ombre dress that seems to wrap around her like a flame. Most of her black curls are gathered at the top of her head but some still cascade past her ears down to her shoulders.

  I remember a woman with black curls that I dated once. Just once. She had the most beautiful blue eyes, too. Too bad I can’t remember her name—I’m terrible with names—and too bad I never got to sleep with her.

  I set the memory of her aside as I prepare to greet Violet. No use dwelling on the past. I have to focus on the present, on this amazing woman I met in Switzerland who’s going to be working with me starting tomorrow.

  I know what my brothers think—Asher’s going after another woman again. They think I do this just for fun. Well, it is fun. Usually. This time, it’s different. Ever since I met Violet, I just knew I had to have her. I’ve been with a lot of women, but I’ve never wanted a woman this much. And not just in my bed. I want to make her fall for me. I want her to drop her guard, to wipe that serious, snobbish expression off her face. Something tells me both are just masks, barbed wire on the fence to keep people out. I want to see the real her, to know the real her. The fact that she’s been thwarting all my efforts to get close to her so far has only made me want her more.

  One way or another, I am going to get what I want.

  I walk towards her after she gets off the escalator.

  “Welcome to Chicago, Violet. I trust your flight was comfortable? We did put you in first class.”

  Her brown eyes narrow. “What are you doing here, Mr. Hawthorne?”

  In other words, she’s not happy to see me. Well, I had a feeling she wouldn’t be, but I’m still here.

  “Asher, please,” I tell her. “There are three Mr. Hawthornes in the company, so it’s best if you call me Asher.”

  “Or maybe I’ll just call the CEO Ethan and your younger brother Ryker and I’ll call you Mr. Hawthorne.”

  I let out a breath. And here I thought coming to America would make her a little less… cold. But I guess she’s just like the Swiss Alps—covered in snow all year long. Well, in that case, I’ll just have to turn on the heat and be global warming.

  I keep my smile on. “To answer your question, I’m here to give you a warm welcome to our fair, windy city and also to give you a ride to the office.”

  “Wow.” She puts a hand on her hip. “I didn’t realize one of the duties of a CFO was picking up employees from the airport.”

  “Not all employees,” I say. “Just the most talented one from this Zurich-based company which happens to be the newest and most promising addition to Hawthorne Holdings.”

  Violet rolls her eyes. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Hawthorne. Surely I taught you that in Zurich?”

  “It’s not flattery if it’s the truth.”

  “It is flattery if your intention is to make me like you, which I can assure you will not happen, so you’re only wasting your time.”

  “But I’ll be your boss. Weren’t you informed?”

  “I was,” she answers with an expression that tells me she doesn’t like it one bit. “But I wasn’t aware I was required to like my boss. I definitely didn’t read anything like that in my contract.”

  Stubborn. But somehow, that’s one of the things I happen to like about her.

  I’ll make her like me. Eventually. For now, I’ll just get her out of this airport.

  “How many suitcases do you have?” I ask her.

  She glances at the red one next to her. “Just this one.”

  “You don’t look like you have enough shoes in there,” I joke.

  Violet doesn’t laugh. “You want to know what’s in my suitcase?”

  I admit I’m curious. “What?”

  She leans towards me to whisper in my ear. “The dead body of the asshole who tried to undress me with his eyes inside the plane. Think you know a place where I can dump it?”

  I look at her. I know she’s joking, but I also know she’s trying to warn me. Ha. She thinks she can scare me off that easily? Not a chance.

  I grab her suitcase. “Actually, I do. And I’m glad you took care of him, though in the future, you won’t have to. As long as you’re with me, I’ll take care of any assholes who dare to come near you.”

  She gives me a sarcastic smile. “How noble.”

  “Yup. I’m your knight in shining armor.” I glance at the exit. “So shall we go to your carriage, milady?”

  ~

  “This isn’t the office,” Violet complains after we get out of the car in front of a restaurant.

  “No,” I tell her. “This is one of the best restaurants in Chicago.”

  “And we’re here because?”

  “We’re having our first meeting over lunch, which also doubles as your welcome party.”

  She pauses. “But I thought I wasn’t starting until tomorrow.”

  I hear the worry in her voice so I turn to her with a grin.

  “Don’t worry. It will just be a short meeting.”

  She touches her hair and the front of her dress. “But I… I’m not dressed for… work. I haven’t changed yet. I…”

  So Violet can get flustered, too, can she? It’s a refreshing change, but I decide not to torture her any longer.

  “I’m just kidding. We’re just here to eat.”

  She pouts and glares at me.

  I shrug. “I thought you might want to have something to eat now that you’re on the ground. I know you were in first class but I, for one, can’t eat any airplane food. Did you?”

  “I ate a little,” she answers, her voice back to being cold.

  “Then you must be hungry. I know I am.”

  I walk up the steps to the restaurant and the maître d’ opens the door.

  “Welcome, Mr. Hawthorne. I have your table ready.”

  I acknowledge him with a smile before following him.

  “Wait,” Violet says. “I’m not hungry. I’ll just wait in the car.”

  “Nonsense. You’re staying here with me. You don’t have to eat much. Just have something. Anything. Everything on the menu here is delicious.”

  “But—”

  “It’s just lunch, Violet,” I cut her off as I face her. “And the company’s paying.”

  “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

  “No. You’re worried I might try to seduce you, especially since there don’t seem to be any other customers around. I can explain. This restaurant usually doesn’t open until five, but for us, they’ve made an exception. It’s not the first time. Also, I can assure you that I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  Violet doesn’t look convinced, so I put my hands up.

  “I promise I won’t flirt. Like I said, it’s just lunch. And no, it’s not a date. Just two people eating good food.”

  She sighs but doesn’t raise any more concerns.

  “Good.”

  I walk to the table. She follows silently. We place our orders—mushrooms, lamb and a glass of wine for me, salad and a cup of coffee for her. As we wait for them to arrive, Violet takes out her phone and focuses her attention on it in a clear effort to avoid talking to me or even looking at me.

  I don’t know why she hates me so much. It’s like she took one look at me and slammed the door in my face. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.

  Well, that woman with the black curls did slam the door in my face, too. And with her, I never got another chance—but with Violet, I’ll have plenty. Now that we’re going to be in the same country, in the same building, on the same floor, she won’t be able to run away or hide from me. I just have to keep knocking on her door.

  “Do you miss Switzerland already?” I ask her as I pick up my glass of wine.

  “A little,” Violet answers without looking up from her phone.

  “What do you think you’ll miss the most about it?”

  “The fact that people there mind their own business.”

  In other words, she wants me to shut up. But I’m not going to. I don’t get what I want, she doesn’t get what she wants.

  “Have you lived there all your life? Are your parents Swiss?”

  She narrows her eyes at me.

  “What?” I ask her.

  “My God, you really don’t have a clue, do you?”

  I’m still confused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  For a moment, Violet falls silent. Then, to my surprise, she bursts out laughing.

  I’m glad I finally heard her laugh. I want to laugh with her. But something tells me the joke’s on me.

  “I’m sorry, but what’s funny, exactly?”

  “You,” she answers after she calms down and takes a sip of her coffee. “But not in a good way.”

  I shake my head. “I still don’t get it.”

  She grins. “Nothing new.”

  What does that mean? Does it mean we’ve met before? When? Where?

  “I don’t understand,” I tell her.

  “And you never will,” she replies.

  Just then, the waiter arrives with my mushrooms and her salad. Violet places her napkin on her lap and picks up her fork. I’m still at a loss.

  “I thought we were here to eat,” Violet says before stuffing some greens inside her mouth. “Mm. You’re right. The food here is good.”

  Finally, something out of her mouth that I can comprehend. And that isn’t an insult.

  I grab my napkin and my utensils. I still don’t know what Violet was talking about earlier, and that infuriates me, but for now I guess I’ll just enjoy eating with her.

  “I thought you weren’t hungry,” I remark before eating a mushroom.

  “I guess I am,” she confesses. “Maybe it’s because I’m in a better mood now.”

  At my expense. But if that’s the price of her company, then fine. I’ll shoulder it this time.

  “Just eat. You’re going to need a good amount of energy for the VIP tour of HQ I’m going to give you.”

  ~

  “And here we are, back at your office,” I say at the end of the tour. “I hope you liked everything you saw.”

  “I think I did,” Violet tells me. “And I learned a lot, apart from the fact that the CFO apparently has too much time on his hands.”

  I grin. “Don’t worry. I’ll catch up on work tomorrow, especially with your help.”

  She lets out a breath. “I was afraid of that.”

  “Just kidding. I already finished my work for the day this morning. So…” I sit on the edge of her desk and rub my hands together. “Any final questions? Anything you want changed in your office?”

  “I’d love it if it was a bit farther from yours,” she answers.

  I shake my head. “Nope. I’m afraid this is the only office we can spare on this part of the floor.”

  “Of course.” She steps forward. “What about not having you sitting on my desk? Think that’s too much to ask?”

  “No.” I get off her desk.

  “Thanks. It looks much better now.”

  She sits behind her desk.

  “You look better behind your desk,” I tell her. “Like a boss.”

  She does. Back at the restaurant, she changed into a black dress, so she looks more professional now. I saw how she commanded respect during the tour. I even saw a few jaws drop. I can already tell that things are going to be more interesting around here with her around.

  “Maybe I’ll take your job someday,” Violet says.

  The look on her face tells me she’s serious, but I chuckle.

  “Nice try. But nope. Not happening.”

  “Because you’re the CEO’s little brother?”

  “Because I’m very good at what I do.”

  “Better than me?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’ll see.” She taps her fingers on the table. “I’d be more careful from now on if I were you, Mr. Hawthorne.”

  A declaration of war. Is that what all this is about? Her wanting my job? No. I can sense this is all too personal. Plus I can’t just forget about that comment she made earlier.

  “Tell me why,” I demand.

  Enough with the clues and the guessing games.

  Violet leans back in her chair. “Why what?”

  “Why do you see me as a bug that needs to be squished?”

  “I don’t squish bugs,” she says. “I’m not afraid of bugs.”

  “But you’re afraid of me.”

  “I’m not afraid of you.”

  “You just find me disgusting?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Because?”

  She draws a deep breath but doesn’t give me an answer.

  I put my hands on her desk. “I need a reason, Violet. I’m not going to force you to like me or get along with me, but if you’re going to fight me at every turn, I at least need to know why.”

  Violet nods. “Fine. I think I’ve had enough fun anyway.”

  Fun?

  “Give me a minute,” she says. “Oh, and it’s best if you turn around.”

  My eyebrows crease. Turn around? Do I have to?

  I realize I do once she starts to take off her contact lens. I turn away immediately. I’m not the least bit squeamish, but I swear I’ll never understand how people can stand to put plastic in their eyes.

  “Done,” Violet says several seconds later. “You can turn around now.”

  As soon as I do, our gazes meet. My eyes grow wide as I see the color of hers.

  Blue. Like sapphires.

  “Is that your natural eye color?”

  “Yes,” she answers. “I have blue eyes and black, curly hair. Believe me, I tried to change that, too, but my hair is just stubborn and the dye irritates my scalp. Anyway, yeah, blue eyes, black hair. Rare combination. Does that ring a bell?”

  Fuck.

  Violet grins. “Based on that horrified look on your face, I’m guessing it does.”

  I point a finger at her. “You’re that woman.”

  “You have to be more specific given your record of sleeping around.”

  “You’re the woman from Wharton.”

  “Still too vague.”

  “The one I asked out to Lloyd Finley’s party.”

  “Bingo,” Violet says. “Now, fast forward to the night of that party, somewhere around nine o’clock, and you’ll understand why I want your heart on a platter. Maybe your cock, too.”

  Now, I remember.

  “We kissed in the gazebo.”

  “Fast forward some more.”

  I try to recall what happened after that. “I went back into the house. I talked to some people. I can’t remember who anymore.”

  “Then allow me to help you. There was a woman. She was tall. Maybe five ten. Brunette. She was wearing a sparkly red dress.”

  I remember her. “Kim Anderson. She was a swimmer. I was a fan.”

  “Obviously.”

  “She came up to me and—”

  Violet puts her hand up. “I don’t need to hear the details. The point is you left the party with her even though you arrived with me. I had to call an Uber to get home.”

  I see. Now it all makes sense. Violet hates me because five years ago when I was at Wharton—which feels like ancient history now—I took her to a party and I left her there.

  Do I have an excuse? No. I was frustrated with her because she was being a cocktease. I had a case of blue balls. Then I met Kim. She was nice. She was willing. I took her back to my apartment. End of story.

  Did I feel even a twinge of guilt for leaving Violet? I did. I tried to talk to her after one of our classes, but she avoided me. Then I saw her with some guy and I just assumed she’d moved on, and I did, too. It turns out she never did.