“You kissed him?” Kylie’s voice sounded shocked. “Way to go, Nic. I’m proud of you. You’re about the biggest prude I know, but you stepped outside your comfort zone.”

  “I am not a prude.” I was a little offended.

  “Oh, pleeeaze! Miz I-won’t-sleep-with-a-man-unless-I’m-in-a-committed-relationship,” Kylie teased. “You’ve never had a fling in your entire life.”

  I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “And you’ve had a million of them?” I shot back at her.

  “No. But I’ve had a few, and I was married for a couple of years.”

  She didn’t have to mention that she’d never been unfaithful during the years she’d been married. I heard that shift in her voice, that infused sadness I could always recognize when she said anything about her marriage.

  I changed the subject. “I didn’t give him my number because he didn’t ask for it.”

  “You could have asked for his,” she suggested. “Or maybe you could have just given him yours anyway.”

  “I suppose. But he’s not the shy type. I doubt he would have had a problem asking for mine if he was interested.” I had no idea what I would have done if he’d wanted to see me again, but I was fairly certain I would have given Damian my number if he’d asked for it.

  Maybe I had made a fool of myself while I was under the influence of too many cocktails, but I still would have jumped at the chance to see him when my head was clear.

  “Now you’ll never know what would have happened,” Kylie said, like not seeing Damian again was a major tragedy. “Did he say why he was here in the US?”

  “Business. He said he was here on business. He has his own company. A family business that he took over when his father died. It’s weird, but he spent more time listening to me than talking about himself. He tried to give me a pep talk about what happened at Lancaster, too. He said it wasn’t my fault.”

  Kylie let out a dramatic sigh. “And he’s smart in addition to being hot. It wasn’t your fault, Nic. Anybody making that presentation would have been screwed. It just happened to be you. Who could compete with the adventures of a nymphomaniac? Lancaster could seriously use a fixer right now. If you ask me, they blew their chance to grab the best crisis management agency in the world. Don’t let it get to you. We’ll get other chances to go international.”

  I smiled. Kylie was hard on herself, but quick to try to comfort anybody else. “How are things at the office?”

  “We picked up several new accounts,” she informed me, her voice upbeat. “They weren’t huge, but we’re conquering the entire country one client at a time.”

  God, I wished I could be as enthusiastic as the director of my company. Kylie lived for this stuff. She’d actually worked for my mother before I’d taken over, and her talent and expertise had been the only things that had kept me sane when I’d decided to keep my mother’s business. “That’s fantastic,” I told her, and I meant it.

  “Now if Macy and I can just find your Mr. Orgasm,” Kylie said impishly.

  God, the last thing I needed was my two best friends putting their heads together to find me a man. There was no telling what they’d decide was orgasmic.

  “I think I found him, but he wasn’t interested enough to ask for my number,” I mumbled.

  I let myself feel the disappointment I’d been holding back because Damian hadn’t asked for my contact information.

  Deep down, beneath my mortification about acting like a twit because I’d been intoxicated, I’d wanted him to want to see me again.

  “He was that hot?” Kylie questioned as we continued to move at the pace of a very slow turtle to get out of the pickup area.

  “He’s…” My mouth snapped closed as I saw a guy putting his suitcase in the back seat of a dark luxury vehicle. “Oh, shit! He’s here.”

  “Where?” Kylie asked as she craned her neck to look around. “Is that him?” She pointed at Damian as he opened the front passenger door to get inside the car.

  I nodded. “That’s him.”

  I groaned as we drove past the vehicle, and I tried not to wonder who was in the driver’s seat.

  What if he was lying? What if he really is married?

  “Um…he’s definitely hot,” Kylie said slowly. “But it couldn’t possibly have been that guy who was riding with you in the business section of Transatlantic Airlines.”

  “It was,” I insisted. “That was Damian. I never did get his last name.”

  “Holy shit! He actually told you that his name was Damian?”

  I shot her an exasperated look. “Of course. That’s his name. Why are you acting so weird?”

  “Because he’s the last person I thought your mystery man might be.”

  I wanted to study her face, try to gage what Kylie was thinking, but the inside of her vehicle was too damn dark. “You know him?”

  It was possible, I supposed. Kylie had lived in Los Angeles for a couple of years while she was married. But what were the chances of her running into someone she knew here? There were literally millions of people in this city and the surrounding areas.

  “I don’t know him personally, but I know of him,” she answered carefully.

  “Then tell me what you know.” Even though my chances of meeting up again with Damian were nonexistent, I still wanted to know more about him.

  Kylie took a deep, audible breath. “Once you told me about bombing your presentation, I got curious and started to do some digging about the family.”

  “Did you see the scandalous picture?”

  “Oh, I did. The guy might be a disgusting man-whore, but he’s got a really nice ass,” she said mischievously. “It’s weird, but there’s almost nothing else about him on the net. I had to dig pretty hard, but I finally found a photo of him on a business website. But it wasn’t a naked picture.”

  “So what does all of this Lancaster research have to do with Damian?”

  “Turns out, Damian Lancaster is just as hot as that guy you met on the plane.”

  “He is?” Okay, maybe it was a little hard to believe that the CEO of Lancaster International was that attractive, but sometimes Kylie and I had different tastes.

  “Yep. As a matter of fact, that man by the car back there was definitely Damian. His full name is Damian Lancaster. If you’re totally certain that he was the guy who sat next to you, then you shared a hot kiss with the Lancaster man-whore.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Damian

  I WAS COMPLETELY KNACKERED as I pushed open the front door of the Beverly Hills house that was owned by Lancaster International.

  My corporation owned homes in many locations, mostly the places that had a Lancaster office nearby, which meant that we had residences in almost every country in the civilized world.

  “Dylan!” I barked in a loud voice that carried through the ultra-modern home.

  I was exasperated when I got no reply.

  “Let me take your bags to your room so Anita can get you unpacked, sir,” my driver’s voice insisted from behind me.

  I nodded gratefully at the older man. “Thank you, Clarence. Do you have any idea where my wayward twin brother might be?”

  Clarence and Anita had been the caretakers for the Beverly Hills mansion since it had been acquired several years ago, and the husband-and-wife duo were more like family than employees. The two of them had been with the Lancaster family in some capacity for as long as I could remember. I’d grown up with the two of them working at our estate in Surrey. When the opportunity had come up for them to relocate to the warmer climate of California to be the caretakers for our residence here, neither one of the British natives had hesitated to move. They’d left England without a backward glance.

  “He was in the pool area before I left for the airport, Mr. Lancaster. You may still catch him there. But if you don’t mind my saying so, your brother seems to be…in a mood.” Clarence’s voice was cautionary, but I didn’t give a damn whether or not Dylan wanted to talk.

  I was tired of tiptoeing around his state of mind.

  We were going to talk about what happened in London, and how it could affect Lancaster International in the future.

  I shrugged out of my suit jacket as I strode toward the pool area.

  I was hot.

  I was tired because I hadn’t slept at all on my flight.

  But mostly, I was annoyed because Dylan’s actions had kept me from pursuing a relationship with the most attractive, fascinating woman I’d met in…well…maybe in my entire life.

  If he hadn’t created a huge scandal, I would have been at that meeting with Nicole, and I would have been every bit as mesmerized as I’d been sitting next to her on an airplane.

  I would have hired her on the spot, and talked her into staying in London longer so we could discuss the details, right after I’d taken her to my place so I could fuck her until she begged for mercy.

  Christ! I had to stop thinking about Nicole Ashworth.

  I saw Dylan sprawled out on a large lounge chair before I even entered the outdoor pool area. The outdoor space was enclosed in glass on the three sides, so one could admire the view of downtown Los Angeles from the inside if they didn’t care to step outdoors.

  The home sat high on a hill, with all of the lights of the city spread out in a seemingly endless area below.

  It was an amazing sight at night, but I ignored the splendor of the view.

  My mind was on one thing and one thing only: threatening my brother with his life if he didn’t get his shit together.

  I pushed on the glass door that led into the pool area as I yanked at my tie. It was a warm night, but I wasn’t sure whether it was my state of dress or my irritation that made me feel like I was fucking suffocating.

  “Dylan,” I growled as I strode to his lounge chair. “We need to talk.”

  My identical twin opened one eye and groaned. “Sod off, Damian. I don’t need a lecture.”

  He needed a lot more than simple censure, which was the only thing I’d been capable of doing…until right now. “You’re completely pissed,” I accused.

  Dylan and I had shared more than a few drunken hours together when we were younger, before we’d had to grow up and face the multitude of responsibilities that had been left to us after our father had died.

  “Not pissed, exactly,” Dylan said, his words slurred. “Just…relaxed.”

  “Yeah, well, you’ve been pretty damn relaxed for the last two years then.” I went to the bar, dropped ice in a glass, and poured myself a generous portion of a good Irish whiskey.

  I didn’t normally drink to excess like Dylan obviously had tonight, but I knew I could use a good single malt as I tried to pull the reins in on my brother.

  “Why do you have to be so stiff and buttoned up?” Dylan asked as he leisurely opened a second eye to look at me.

  I tossed back a swig of my whiskey before I said dryly, “I’m British. It’s in our DNA.”

  He lifted a brow as he sat up in the lounger. “We have very similar DNA, and I know how to loosen up.”

  I rolled my eyes. Of course we had similar DNA. We were identical twins. And he wasn’t “loosened up.” Dylan was thoroughly pissed. Big difference there.

  I took a deep breath, and let it out as I took a chair close to my brother’s lounger. “All of this has to stop, Dylan. The orgies. The eccentric behavior. Getting pissed until you have no idea what you’re doing. I realize that you didn’t exactly hang around in London to see the fallout of showing your bare ass in the middle of an orgy, but it was front-page tabloid news. You hurt Mum, and the entire country now thinks it’s me, not you, who needs multiple sex partners. What do you think some of our worldwide partners are going to think, the ones who are really buttoned up and conservative?”

  Dylan shook his head as he argued, “That was all a setup, Damian. I swear. One of those women slipped me something in my drink, and then took me somewhere. I had no idea what I was doing. Hell, I don’t even think I had sex with any of them. And I sure as hell never claimed to be you.”

  My brows narrowed as I studied him. “Did you introduce yourself as Dylan?”

  He shrugged. “Didn’t say anything. I think they assumed I was you.”

  Okay, maybe I could buy that it was actually a setup, possibly by one of our competitors who wanted to swoop in on a deal we were competing on with a religious-minded company somewhere. Since we did deals on a daily basis, it would be difficult to nail down exactly who was responsible.

  However…

  “You’re not an idiot, Dylan. If they slipped you something, evidently you were already…impaired.” My brother had a genius IQ and an almost scary intuition. Sober, he would have been wise to a possible setup.

  “Okay, I made a mistake,” Dylan grumbled as he ran his palms across his face. “What happened to the Damian who doesn’t give a damn what the tabloids say about him?”

  “I don’t care,” I snapped. “Not when the only one who’s affected is me. For fuck’s sake, Dylan, Mum saw that damned front-page photo, and so did our competition and partners. You’ve done some ridiculous things in the last two years, stuff I’ve been able to cover up or take responsibility for, but I can’t just make this one go away. The photo is out there everywhere until I can get it scrubbed from the net. Whether it was a setup or not, putting yourself in that position was a juvenile stunt.”

  I loved my brother, and I hated having this conversation. At one time, Dylan and I had been close, and we’d respected the hell out of each other.

  But that had been another Dylan, not the selfish wanker I’d been dealing with for the last two years, the one who didn’t care about anyone except himself.

  Christ! I wanted the old Dylan back, and I hoped Mum was right about my real brother still being inside this seemingly empty shell I was talking to right now.

  “I’m sorry about Mum seeing that photo,” he said flatly, his eyes glazed as he glared at me. “But as far as Lancaster International goes, I couldn’t care less. Is that all you care about, Damian? Is everything about business for you now? You didn’t used to be that way.”

  I clenched a fist, so damn tempted, for the first time in my life, to literally beat some sense into Dylan. “Like I have any choice?” I completely lost it. “Lancaster is our legacy. I was supposed to have your help managing our empire. Instead of dividing and conquering, I’ve just been trying to keep my head above water, doing both your work and mine because you abandoned me two years ago. I’m also picking up the slack by trying to keep your personal life private, as well as covering our business interests alone. Do you have any idea how damn difficult it is to erase an entire history from the internet? Or how hard it is to maintain it, especially when you’re out there pulling some gossip-worthy stunts on a regular basis?”

  His green eyes went dark. “You know why I drink,” he ground out angrily. “What do you think I’m going to do, Damian? Just get over it? We made a deal.”

  “There was no damn deal, just my promise to help you disappear. We never set a time limit on just how long all of this was supposed to last. I’ve kept my word, Dylan, but you aren’t exactly using this time to get your fucking head together. In fact, you seem determined to screw it up even more.”

  I took a deep breath. I wasn’t furious because Dylan had just checked out for a while.

  I probably would have done the same.

  I’d been patient for two fucking years.

  Giving him his space.

  I’d been more than willing to wait until he was ready to slowly check back in and talk to me.

  So I’d waited.

  Hoping every damn day that he’d finally talk to me about what had happened, confide in me about his pain.

  But Dylan had just become more withdrawn, more out of control, more self-destructive.

  It was time for me to admit to myself that Dylan probably wasn’t going to come back after he’d had some time to heal.

  Like it or not, I was going to have to drag him back, kicking and screaming, if I wanted my brother back.

  “Nobody expects you to just get over it,” I told him in a calmer tone. “But what you’ve been doing isn’t helping you heal, Dylan. You’re spiraling down to where I can’t reach you anymore, and I can’t let that happen. If our positions were reversed, I know you wouldn’t let me go.”

  My brother shot me a glare that would have made anyone else in the world back the hell off. “I would have kept my promise, Damian. You know I would if our circumstances were reversed.”

  I tried not to let myself be manipulated. “Do you think I’ve ever betrayed you, Dylan? I haven’t. Not once. Now, all I want is my twin brother back.”

  Dylan stood, and walked unsteadily to the bar to grab himself another beer. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t want to be saved, Damian? That I don’t deserve to heal?”

  I tossed back the last of my whiskey and slammed the tumbler on the side table before I got to my feet.

  “Why in the world would you feel that way?” I said, irritated. “Talk to me, Dylan. I’ve never really understood—”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” he snarled as he tore the top off the bottle. “Take Lancaster International, Damian. Give me enough money to live on and you can have the whole damn empire. It’s not what I want anymore. I don’t want to live in a fishbowl. I don’t want to be one of the richest guys in the world. I just want to be left alone.”

  Oh, hell no! Left to his own devices, Dylan would continue to spiral downward until he hit rock bottom, and there was no telling whether he’d survive that fall or not.

  I snatched the beer from his hand, and started to pour it down the sink as I answered, “Not happening, brother. No more alcohol for you tonight.”

  I’d keep my word because Dylan was nowhere near ready to step back into his old life. In fact, doing so might completely destroy him right now.