And that was only his work life. He wondered again if Mia had ever caught up with the mysterious Sam on Saturday night, and his jaw tightened.

  He swiveled to face the window behind him, staring pensively over Madison Square Park below.

  The trees were getting foliage, and the stray puffy white cloud was no match for the sun at midday. The occasional cherry tree added a dot of contrast to the deepening green canopy below. Everything was ripe for new beginnings—just like he’d felt once.

  Ten years ago, when he’d taken his small inheritance from his mother and moved to New York City to start his business, he’d envisioned being here someday. Except things were supposed to be easier when he was flush with success. He’d spent years building, running, forgetting. To get as far away from his parents’ hardscrabble existence as he could. And yet...

  He still had problems, including his biggest one at the moment. With his growing new media company, CyberSilver, some might wonder why he was interested in an aging local television company. But to him, buying the privately owned station in western Massachusetts would be the ultimate validation of his success. Yes, he’d left the family construction business to his father and brother, but buying back into the Massachusetts market in a big way would mean the Musil name would become associated with more than JM Construction.

  The potential television station acquisition was personal on his part. A first...since he never let emotions influence his corporate decisions. But the satisfaction from owning WBEN-TV, along with the couple of other New England stations that came with it, wasn’t something to be dismissed lightly... If only he could get the owner to sell to him.

  Larry Bensen was suspicious of someone who had no background in television broadcasting, even if Damian owned a new media company and had roots in Massachusetts. Larry was ready to retire, but only if he could leave his company in good hands—since no one else in his family was interested in running it.

  The truth, though, was the guy needed to sell to a bigger player. Larry had done everything in the past few years to keep his company competitive, including bringing in new management. But big conglomerates ruled media, old and new, these days. And Damian’s biggest worry was that Larry would sell to someone else.

  Especially since Larry’s requirements included vetting a potential buyer’s character—because he wanted a buyer who’d treat his company as if it were a family inheritance. Considering that Damian came from a fractured family and wasn’t even close to starting one of his own—he wasn’t even dating—that requirement put him at a distinct disadvantage. He was too tied to his job to have much of a social life, so at least he didn’t have much in the way of negative publicity—no reality stars, baby mamas or lingerie models willing to tell all for the right price. But, on the other hand, he wasn’t a poster boy for domesticity, either.

  Damian idly reached for the computer mouse and reopened the email from Larry that he’d gotten that morning.

  I’ll be in NYC next week for the Ruby Ball. Katie is covering it for Brilliance magazine, and Allison wants to go. Let’s meet if you’re in town.

  Damian shook his head. Yup, Larry was all about family. He’d even named Alley Kat Media, his holding company, for his wife and daughter, Allison and Katie. And now Larry was coming to town because his daughter worked for a fashion magazine and his wife, a former model, was interested.

  Damian turned again to stare thoughtfully out the window, and his lips quirked. This was the second time in a week that the Ruby Ball had cropped up as a topic of conversation in his life. Days ago he’d teased Mia about accompanying her to the celebrated event...

  She’d turned him down, of course. Because she’d been bred to distrust and look down on a Musil.

  But his body had hummed ever since their last encounter, when finally, finally, he’d been able to taste her lips. And the kiss had been hotter and better than he’d ever expected. She was a beautiful woman—growing into the potential that had been evident back when she still lived in Welsdale.

  And lately, every time their paths had crossed, Damian had found her to be even more compelling and fascinating.

  Damian steepled his fingers. He suddenly had a business interest in attending the Ruby Ball. He had not been able to get Mia off his mind, especially since Saturday’s kiss, but now Larry would also be in town for the event...

  No matter what Mia thought, however, the Musils weren’t underhanded so much as ruthless. The business sense he’d learned from his family had served him well. He had more power and money than he’d ever dreamed of.

  Damian contemplated his office view. Maybe it was time to cast doubt on everything that Mia heard about Musils over the years—as well as having her owe him one. In some ways, he couldn’t have planned things better if he’d tried.

  It looked as if he and Mia might be headed toward another rendezvous... He had only to beat the mysterious Sam to it...damn it.

  Damian searched his mind for where he’d last crossed paths with Mia before the costume party. He knew a local trendy nightspot that was the usual haunt for some of their mutual acquaintances. He’d try there first on Friday night.

  And with that thought, he straightened in his chair and leaned forward to reply to Larry’s email.

  THREE

  She was nursing dashed dreams but congratulating herself on her principles...so the last thing she needed was for temptation to walk through the door. But then, Mia had never felt especially lucky.

  She watched with trepidation as Damian strode into the Twilight Club, as if he felt comfortable and welcome anywhere.

  She’d temporarily separated herself from some acquaintances and gone to the bar for a drink. She’d seen Damian here in the past, but not so frequently that she’d been worried about him showing tonight...

  Ask him. Gia’s opinion sounded in her head.

  Ugh. One week left till the Ruby Ball and of course enticement would walk in to test her resolve. She’d continued to waffle and had all but decided that Gia’s suggestion of asking Damian was just too crazy—despite some of her brave words to her cousin—but now here he was...

  Before Mia had a chance to make any decision, however, Damian strode right to her and parked himself at the bar, as if he too had been mulling a mission.

  He nodded at the now-empty glass of Coke at her elbow. “Buy you a drink?” Then not waiting for an answer, he signaled the bartender. “Beer on tap. The darkest you have. And another round of soda for her.”

  “You like to take charge.” She made the observation grudgingly.

  “I’m a CEO.”

  “So am I.” She, however, did not have the same pull. Already a couple of women had recognized him and were throwing sidelong looks in his direction.

  Damian smiled at her. “How’s it going with Sam? Have you run him to ground yet?”

  Must he be so annoying? “Hardly. He’s on a plane to Singapore.”

  “And the airline’s departure gate closed before you got there?”

  “Wouldn’t you love it if I said I barely avoided arrest trying to stop him from boarding?”

  He flashed a grin. “Somehow I doubt that’s the kind of publicity you’re looking for.”

  The waiter put her soda down on the counter, and she took a sip. “No publicity is bad publicity. Isn’t that what they say?”

  “I like a woman who goes after what she wants. So what’s your backup plan?”

  She eyed him. “What makes you think I have one?”

  “Well, since I’m standing in front of you,” he drawled, “I figured you’d be considering contingency options.”

  Damn him. “You?”

  He nodded, leaving his beer untouched. “Me. As it happens, I now have a business reason to attend the Ruby Ball, and something tells me you have an extra ticket.”

  “I’ll sell it to you.”

  Mia’s mind buzzed with the pros and cons of Gia’s idea all over again. She’d tried to convince herself that Damian had been merely joking at the costume party—but now he clearly wasn’t. On the one hand, she was desperate, as much as it irked her that he knew it. And actually, did she have any other choice? On the other hand, Damian was a Musil. Her family would have a joint conniption if they found out. Even if Damian wasn’t in charge of the family construction business, he had been and probably still was a beneficiary.

  Then again, she’d never let family disapproval stop her, as Gia had pointed out. In fact, she’d often run into its open arms.

  Like right now. Oh, Damian didn’t literally have his arms open, but the man was...seductive. He seemed to know her weak spots.

  She wavered. He waited.

  Desperation won out, even if she was still suspicious. “Why would you be interested in an event that’s all about high fashion?”

  He quirked his lips, his expression rueful. “I’m not, but my client is. His wife was a model before they married. Now they’re ready to retire, if they find the right buyer for their business. I aim to be Mr. Right.”

  Mia rolled her eyes. “So you’re going to trot out your date, the fashion designer.” Me.

  He looked amused. “A bonus I wasn’t looking for.”

  She figured it was a testament to her recent history with men that being referred to as an unexpected bonus didn’t faze her. And Damian was a Musil, after all—she should keep her expectations low.

  “And as it happens, a bonus for you, too. My client’s daughter is covering the Ball because she’s employed by Brilliance magazine.”

  Mia drew in a breath. He obviously knew she’d jump at the chance to make a connection at one of the foremost fashion magazines around. Damn it. Temptation had taken an irresistible turn.

  Sure, she had some connections of her own—namely through her sister-in-law, actress Chiara Feran—but the whole point was being independent of her family. She wanted to make it on her own, not trade on her name, though she had done some cross-promotion with Chiara’s former stylist, Emery, who’d started her own accessories line. And while her sister-in-law had friends in Hollywood who were walking billboards for designers, what Mia needed at this point wasn’t simply to lend out her clothes for free publicity, but to expand her retail reach with department stores and boutiques. And for that she needed industry connections...fashion editors, store buyers, word-of-mouth in the trade. Anything that would get those orders coming in. Yes, she’d hired a publicist but her budget was no-frills, and fashion was a competitive business—she needed to work every angle.

  Before she could let herself dwell on it any more, she blurted, “If anyone asks after the fact, I dumped you.”

  Paradoxically, mild amusement stamped Damian features, and then he quirked a brow. “Should we shake hands on it?”

  He was playing her, using his bargaining skills. But she knew some of her own. “The can-can girl and the villain?”

  He laughed, not missing her allusion to their recent encounter at the costume party. “Sounds like the name of—”

  “—a low-budget movie.” A disaster flick, hers. With the subtitle Mia Runs Out of Options.

  The minute her palm came into contact with his, however, awareness shivered up her arm and spread outward.

  Her lips parted, and she took a quick indrawn breath.

  Damian held her gaze and the world fell away.

  Why did she always have such a sensitized reaction to him? And what would it feel like to come into closer contact? Feel his lips on hers again and have him caress her with his hands while she moaned her pleasure... OMG, no.

  It was bad enough that she was attracted to him even if she didn’t totally trust him. Determinedly, she slipped her hand from his, and he let her go.

  For now.

  But there’d be a next time—the thought came unbidden.

  * * *

  Mia sipped her cocktail and regarded her youngest brother carefully.

  Jordan was in town. Rats.

  Sometimes one of her brothers visited New York. Usually not her oldest sibling, Cole, who now ran Serenghetti Construction. Occasionally it was her middle brother, Rick, who was a big-shot Hollywood movie producer—and still had plenty of contacts in New York City from his days as a Wall Street money man. Most often it was Jordan—her youngest brother and the older sibling closest to her age—since he played professionally with the New England Razors and traveled for his NHL away games.

  Usually she was thrilled to see him, but the timing right now was awkward at best.

  Since the Razors normally stayed at the Renaissance Hotel, which was a stone’s throw away from her place in the Garment District, she didn’t have a good excuse not to meet. And because the late afternoon was nice and sunny, they were meeting in one of the hotel’s popular locations—the Versa restaurant, with its impressive indoor/outdoor seating, retractable roof, potted greenery, and glass walls overlooking Midtown. She was glad at least that they weren’t at the Renaissance’s Thread Bar, since its fashion theme attracted a like-minded clientele—namely, people she was likely to know. Right now, there was only so much she could handle without someone in the industry mentioning the Ruby Ball in front of her brother. As it was, she’d had to swear Gia to secrecy...

  “I thought Cole was coming to town this week. He mentioned he had one of those once-in-a-blue-moon business conferences.”

  Jordan’s lips quirked. “He’d planned to, but the Musils are up to no good again.”

  Mia’s stomach turned over, but she managed weakly, “Oh, really? I haven’t heard a thing about the Musils in a long time.”

  Liar. Liar. But did Damian count if he wasn’t in Welsdale anymore?

  Jordan nodded. “They’ve been quiet, but now they’re bidding to buy the same construction company, and for Cole it’s personal.”

  Mia knew that Cole was looking to expand Serenghetti Construction in order to stay competitive. Construction was increasingly a business where the big players had an edge—and the little guys faced the threat of being left behind.

  “Oh, please,” she said lightly, “Cole’s grow-or-die philosophy hardly means it’s personal.”

  “For Cole, it’s more than that. JM Construction has been a thorn in his side ever since they almost got the construction deal for that new gym.”

  Mia knew JM Construction was named for Damian’s father, Jakob Musil. She’d learned that fun fact the way other kids learned their alphabet...because she was a Serenghetti. She shifted in her seat. “Oh, come on, Cole should be thanking the Musils. If JM Construction hadn’t had the upper hand, Cole would never have volunteered to headline the fundraiser that Marisa was organizing for a new athletic facility at the school where she works. He would never have mended his relationship with Marisa, and they’d never have gotten married. There was a silver lining to the competition with the Musils.”

  Jordan’s lips quirked. “In other words, the Musils did Cole a favor? I don’t think he sees it that way.”

  Damn it. Why did the business rivalry with the Musils have to flare up right now? “Doesn’t Cole have enough going on without worrying about the Musils? After all, with your plan to fund a new wing at the Children’s Hospital, Serenghetti Construction will have more than enough business.”

  “Again, Cole doesn’t see it that way. Besides, with existing projects, Serenghetti Construction is already stretched to the limit. If he wins the takeover battle, it’ll ease some of the strain on resources.”

  Oops.

  “Anyway, let’s talk about you,” Jordan said, seemingly oblivious.

  Let’s not.

  “How are you doing?” He took a sip of his beer.

  Mia waved her hand. “Oh, you know, business as usual.”

  Her brother quirked a brow. “You’re leading the glamorous fashion designer life in the big city, and you don’t have anything happening? Yeah, I believe that.”

  She had to get them off this topic fast. “You’ll be surprised like everyone else when I make a splash.”

  Her brother laughed. “Okay, fair enough.” Then he sobered. “It’s nice to see you in a better mood, Mia. After Carl, we were all worried about you.”

  “Well, don’t. Worry, that is. Carl is in the past.” And I’ve got bigger things to worry about these days.

  Jordan shook his head. “If I ever run into Carl—”

  “You’ll say hi and keep going. I can take care of myself.” She’d escaped to New York, but sometimes it didn’t seem far enough from her protective relatives. Sure Jordan was showing he cared, but she’d also been assigned a place in the family tree, and no one seemed interested in having her change her position.

  “Maybe be choosier about who you date.”

  “Right.” Starting after Saturday. “Says the guy who used to be a major player before he met his wife.”

  “Exactly. I speak from experience.”

  As a big NHL star, Jordan had gotten his share of headlines, including at least one woman trying to shake him down for his money and celebrity.

  “I’m not a big enough designer to attract hangers-on.”

  “You will be.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “In the meantime, better luck spotting the duds.”

  She shrugged. “It’s New York City. There are literally thousands more single women than men in this town.”

  Jordan smiled. “Don’t I know it. Or at least, I used to.”

  Mia wagged a finger at him in jest before they both sipped their drinks. The youngest of her brothers used to be in the running for hockey’s most eligible bachelor. Tall, with dark hair and green eyes, he’d made women breathless with his underwear billboard ads.

  Seriously, Jordan was in no position to judge...even if she did show up in public on the arm of a Musil.