I freeze.

  Wait. She’s insisting my two corporate chaperones have slept with the same female? At the same time?

  The friend crosses her arms over her chest. “No way.”

  “Seriously. A couple of years ago, I saw them at a bar, both macking on the same girl.”

  “That doesn’t mean they did her together,” the redhead points out.

  The brunette thrusts her hands on her hips. “They were all over her. I watched. Everyone did. And after a few drinks, the three of them all left, arm-in-arm-in-arm. I don’t think they went to play a rousing game of Parcheesi.”

  “That happened two years ago. How do you even know it was them?” Blue Dress asks.

  “You don’t forget something like that. Besides”—the brunette whips out her phone—“I have proof. I knew they looked familiar when I met them, but I couldn’t figure out why. Last night, I realized where I’d seen them. I went back through the pictures I took that night of my sister’s birthday party and…look.”

  When she thrusts the screen in their faces, their jaws both drop.

  “Holy shit,” mutters Blue Dress.

  “It’s them!” the redhead admits. “Lucky girl.”

  “Isn’t she?” the brunette fans herself. “I’d kill to be her. They’re hot.”

  “So hot,” Blue Dress groans, then frowns. “I hear they both get lucky a lot. But with the same woman? I haven’t seen it… I ran into Marcus on a date about a month ago. Josh was nowhere in sight.”

  The redhead nods. “I went to a club with friends two weeks ago and saw Josh with his hands all over a blonde, but I didn’t see Marcus.”

  The brunette shrugs. “All I can say is that the woman in this picture was with them both, and it looked serious.”

  “Wow…”

  Wow is right. I’m not usually one for office gossip, but that’s pretty scandalous stuff. Absently, I wonder why they ever shared a woman and why they apparently stopped. But it’s none of my business. That tidbit, no matter how juicy, will have no bearing on my job performance or our professional relationship.

  Purposely clicking my heels on the tile floor as if I just arrived, I send the trio of women a bland smile. “Hi.”

  They jump apart guiltily. The brunette sends me a nervous glance and tucks her phone away. “Hi.”

  “Sorry to interrupt. I just need a napkin.” I grab a paper towel from the roll and shove it into my lunch bag.

  “We weren’t talking about anything important,” the redhead volunteers.

  I almost laugh at her sheepish lie, but it wouldn’t make me any friends, and I don’t have time for their gossip, even if it’s true. I have a meeting to get to. “Of course not. Have a good afternoon.”

  After retracing my steps, I find Savannah waiting in my office.

  She glances at the bag in my hand. “I see you found lunch. Good. Turns out we have a few more minutes before we need to convene upstairs. Chad—Mr. Force—is rounding up a few people, along with the new intel we have about the property. I’ll tell you what I know while you eat so you’re up to speed and can participate in the decision making.”

  I force aside the gossip I just overheard and focus on my new boss. “Please.”

  As I spread my food across my desk, Savannah pulls up the guest chair, sips from the tumbler of water in her hand, then launches into her spiel. “Recently, we began investigating a piece of property on behalf of a group of investors. This dovetails with our desire to diversify beyond traditional investments.”

  “You mentioned that when we interviewed.”

  “The property is located on the windward side of the Big Island of Hawaii. We found out this morning that we’ve been granted exclusive access for the next two weeks. The site was a hotel in the sixties. It shut down permanently in the late nineties. The owner intended to gather funding to reopen, but his health failed. It fell into disrepair and sat vacant. The state seized it for back taxes before selling it to another investor, who bought it for pennies on the dollar in 2009 with big dreams. After all, the property is prime oceanfront real estate on a charming, unspoiled part of the island. But the price tag for simply bulldozing the structure, along with conducting the necessary environmental studies and permitting was well beyond thirteen million. So that guy sold it to a wealthy Asian family, who intended to develop it for an upscale Pacific Rim clientele. Rumor has it, the refurbishment was his wife’s pet project. When she died, he gave up, only deciding to sell it a handful of weeks ago. Here we are.”

  “So now we see what it would take to make the place profitable.”

  “Before we purchase it, yes.”

  “If the scenery is as beautiful as it sounds, that shouldn’t be difficult, but it always depends on budget, timeline, and other factors.”

  She nods. “Finding a reliable workforce will be one. For decades, the locals have been hired off-and-on to work the property in different capacities, so getting them to believe that plans for the place will amount to anything may be an uphill battle.”

  “It sounds that way.”

  “The terrain will be tricky, too. It’s in between an eyesore of a hotel that was given a patchy facelift eighteen years ago and a former motel converted into cheap condos. We’ll have to conceal all that. And it sits on the edge of a high-risk lava zone, because the Big Island has active volcanos.” She winces. “Given how the property is situated, we’ll have to see if it’s even possible to cost effectively operate a resort there before we make an offer.”

  I swallow another spoonful of my delicious soup and nod. “Not much to be done about volcanic eruptions, but I can find a creative way to cordon our property off from its less attractive surroundings while promoting a sense of beauty and exclusivity.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Unfortunately, that’s likely to make any renovation more expensive. And I’m guessing the town has laws about how tall we can make any new resort? If there wasn’t, the place would probably already be a tourist hub.”

  Savannah nods. “I’m sure. So we’re going with luxury from top to bottom. This will be an exclusive getaway spot, and it will cost a pretty penny to visit this slice of paradise. We want every room to be a suite—and command the commensurate price. The pool has to be top notch, the beach and access to it pristine.”

  I warm to her topic. “The restaurants must be four star—”

  “At least.”

  “And the service must be impeccable.”

  “Precisely. We will make recommendations, of course, but service will fall under the purview of the investor group,” Savannah assures. “If everything is a go and the resort comes to fruition, once it’s complete, we’ll be turning operations over to them and merely retaining a stake in the venture.”

  Makes sense. “What else do I need to know?”

  “Sorry this is last minute, and I realize you just got to Boston…but you leave Thursday for your initial assessment of the grounds. Your first order of business is to compile a list of what would need to be done, along with a timeline, and draft ideas for the resort itself while working with local officials to identify which studies and permits we would need and costs associated, then report back to corporate.”

  I’m flying out in three days? “Okay. And I have two weeks to do all that?”

  “Ten days.” She studies me with a grin. “I love how you’re trying not to show me you’re panicked by this aggressive schedule.”

  I set down my sandwich and laugh. “Your husband intimated that not much gets past you.”

  My new boss gives me a dry smile. “Josh and Marcus will make sure you get the support you need.”

  “Good to hear.” I’m hoping the hot guys who have shared a woman don’t turn into roadblocks. But if they do, I’ll work around them. It won’t be the first time I’ve run into male walls of stubborn.

  Her phone dings. After a quick glance, she stands. “Chad has rounded up all the guilty parties. They’re waiting for us upstairs.”

  Quickly, I gather my food wrappings and shove them into the bag, then reapply my lipstick. “Ready.”

  “Follow me.”

  I trail her to the elevator. “Who am I meeting?”

  “He didn’t tell me exactly who he roped into this little gathering, but most likely heads of departments and budgets affected by the project. It’s just a matter of who was available last minute.”

  As we head upstairs, anxiety pokes me. It doubles as the elevator doors open and we cross the executive floor. It’s not optimal, my two “handlers” being elsewhere while other movers and shakers make decisions about our project. I’ll have to catch them up later—and hope we can get on the same page.

  In the corner, Savannah opens the door to the conference room. There’s a small group of people milling around the large black table. At the head, Mr. Force stands, smiling and exchanging small talk with a pair of men, one with dark hair in a gray suit, the other a muscled hunk in navy pinstripes.

  I know them.

  After a mere glance, and I start tingling again. This time it’s accompanied by a throbbing between my legs.

  The flirt from the cafe. The brute from the elevator. They’re both executives at Force Financial?

  My head races. How am I supposed to be even remotely professional in this meeting around two men who make me acutely aware that I’m a woman?

  As if they sense me, they both look up and pin me with hot, weighty stares. My throbbing increases.

  Mr. Gray Suit saunters toward me with a sly smile. “I guess next time is now. Imagine that.”

  “Imagine,” I breathe, trying not to look like my heart is beating wildly.

  “Nice to see you again.” The brute in the navy suit approaches, his footfalls surprisingly quiet for such a large man. “Are you going to answer my question now?”

  Savannah frowns. “Do you know each other?”

  “Not officially. Introduce us?” Gray Suit asks.

  “Sure.” My new boss turns to me. “This is Kate Evans. Kate?” She gestures to the gorgeous guy with the whiskey eyes. “Meet Josh Hennessey.” Then she gestures to the hunk in navy pinstripes. “And Marcus Hunt. They’re your advisors and traveling partners for this project.”

  What? These gorgeous men who have shared a very lucky woman in the past are going to Hawaii with me?

  I paste on a smile and manage to say something appropriate, but I feel faint and shaky. Even now, my attraction to them both is merciless. The longer they stare, the more the throbbing between my legs overtakes my body.

  How am I going to survive ten days in paradise with them while keeping my professionalism and sanity intact?

  Marcus

  That evening, I mill around the upscale restaurant, nursing a beer and trying not to stare at Kate, who’s deep in conversation with Savannah. Beside me, Josh clutches his whiskey, his gaze all over her, too.

  Fuck.

  Not that I blame him. The beautiful blonde has the sort of face that starts wars and a body that incites undeniable lust. It’s not just the little black dress she wore to this cocktail party so the investors and the executive team could officially meet her—though that’s hot as hell. In fact, the sedate front of the garment demurely covers everything between her neck and her knees. But the back is almost nonexistent. Every man in the room has an unobstructed view of her graceful spine and unspoiled skin. I want to growl and snarl at every other dick sneaking an eyeful. What’s killing me more are the glances she keeps sending both Josh and me when she thinks we aren’t looking.

  Our chemistry is fucking crazy. I know Josh feels it, too. He wants Kate every bit as badly as I do. The minute we laid eyes on her, professionalism evaporated. Caution wasn’t far behind.

  And we’re supposed to babysit her in paradise? If she’s willing, there’s no way I don’t kiss her until she’s panting, press her to my mattress, and fill her pussy relentlessly with every inch I’ve got until she screams. Josh won’t abstain, either, especially since Force Financial lacks any kind of antifraternization clause and Kate doesn’t report directly to us.

  This could get messy—fast.

  “Damn…” Josh mutters beside me, visually undressing Kate.

  I’ve already done that half a dozen times in the twenty minutes since this gathering started, so I can hardly rebuke him. “Yeah. We should discuss the elephant in the room.”

  One thing I like about Josh? He doesn’t play games.

  “We should.” He grins wryly. “I’d try the I-saw-her-first thing if keeping her to myself was what I wanted.”

  I snort. “I know it’s not. But we had this conversation a few days ago. You know my hard limit.”

  We can’t share her…no matter how much I suspect she’d love it and it would blow our minds.

  “I heard you,” Josh assures me. “But…what if she’s different?”

  “She’s not. She’s still a woman with family, friends, and feelings. Neither of us needs another heartache. Plus, she works here. You know how the grapevine functions.”

  “I’m tired of the corporate Casanova routine.”

  “An office threesome would be worse.” When Josh looks unconvinced, I plow on. “You want our coworkers to know about our sex life? We only managed to keep Taylor on the down-low because she worked on the other side of the city. Kate’s desk is two floors below ours. If we took her to bed and everything went south…all it would take is one vindictive word. She could fuck our reputations.”

  “Or she could fall for us and—”

  “Jesus, what fairy-tale world are you living in?”

  “The one where we’re happy. Is that really asking so much?”

  Josh has a point. I hate to admit it, but neither of us has been truly happy since Taylor. Just like my best friend, it isn’t that I miss her. It’s that I miss the closeness, the feeling of rightness that gripped me when we took her together. I haven’t felt anything remotely like it since.

  But logic has to prevail. No matter what we feel, we can’t collectively get involved with Kate.

  Instead of pointing out my rationale again—he’s not listening—I attack from another angle. “You sound ready to go all in, despite the fact we met this woman a few hours ago. And we’ve exchanged what, twenty words with her?”

  “Don’t be an asshole. And don’t tell me you don’t feel it, too. I know you.”

  That’s the problem. We’ve been friends for thirty years. Other than my mom, no one knows me better. Hell, when it comes to women, Josh understands me far more. He knows when I’m interested and when my feelings are involved.

  “All right, fine. She’s gorgeous. She does it for me. I want to fuck her. I’d love to fuck her with you,” I murmur for him alone. “But use your head up north. Are you willing to risk professional suicide? I’m not. You shouldn’t be, either.”

  Josh grits his teeth. He’s pissed, but I’m right. He needs to back off and stop filling my goddamn head with images that will keep me up half the night, trying to masturbate my need away. “This is ridiculous. People care if we make them money, not who we fuck. You’re just scared.”

  “I’m practical.”

  His scowl tells me he doesn’t agree. “What are you suggesting?”

  “We should keep our hands off of her—”

  “If she’s willing, do you really think that’s going to happen?”

  “But since I’m not sure that’s possible…”

  “It’s not,” Josh says unequivocally. “One glance at that woman, and I was on fire.”

  Same. In an instant, I went from helping people off an elevator to wanting Kate with a burning fierceness.

  “Then whatever develops with her is individual and light. No promises. No commitments. And no goddamn threesomes.”

  Josh looks like he wants to argue, but he doesn’t. “If that’s what you want.”

  He’s not thrilled. Neither am I, but… “It’s for the best. So we’re agreed?”

  “Yes. Don’t push me anymore.”

  My best friend has reached his limit, but he’s given me his word.

  He glares at me one last time, then fastens his gaze on Kate again. “I’m going to grab another drink.”

  And the bar just happens to be five feet from the object of our mutual desire. No coincidence there.

  Clearly, he’s plowing ahead and doing whatever it takes to have her. He won’t go slow or keep things light. In fact, he’s probably assuming that, when he jumps off the cliff, I’ll fall with him because I won’t be able to help myself. Another surreptitious glance at Kate, all curves and warmth and obvious brains, tells me he might not be wrong.

  Fuck. My better bet is to block him from jumping at all.

  As Savannah excuses herself for the bathroom, I rush to Kate’s side before Josh can close in. Up close, she’s younger than I first thought, no more than midtwenties. Another red flag. Unfortunately, when it comes to her, every red flag seems more like a red cape, urging me to charge her like a bull.

  Kate starts as I approach, her fuckable lips parting, her blue eyes widening, cheeks pinkening. I imagine she’d be wearing an expression a lot like this if I was buried deep inside her as orgasm consumes her body.

  I shift my weight and clear my throat, grateful my suit coat covers my erection. “Hello, Kate.”

  “Mr. Hunt.” She extends her hand.

  “Just Marcus.” I engulf her delicate fingers in mine, her touch inciting another hot hum of desire. “At least now I know your name.”

  She looks shaken, too. As she jerks her hand free, her expression turns all business. “It’s good to meet you. I look forward to working together.”

  I look forward to fucking you.

  I need to stop thinking that. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Tell me all about you.”

  “Professionally? I grew up in construction, since my father and uncle built houses and strip malls all over Phoenix. After I graduated from high school, I took my flair for interior design and began decorating the model homes and commercial spaces for the business. A few years ago, my uncle had a heart attack, so I stepped in to fill his shoes, overseeing sites, fulfilling his role as general contractor, and finishing his existing projects both on schedule and under budget. Since he and my dad agreed that I have a knack for this business, my uncle sold his stake to my dad and I continued on as both GC and decorator. I picked up a weekend radio show to help out a deejay friend who had some surgery and it became successful, so the station manager gave me a permanent weekly slot. And that’s pretty much my whole résumé.” She smiles nervously. “But I truly enjoy every aspect of property development and management. Since I was ready for a change, I applied for this job when it popped up.”