“It was something…” His smile says the times were good and the memories fond.

  “What’s your name, sir?”

  “None of this ‘sir’ business.” He shuffles his room key into the fingers curled around his cane, then sticks out his free hand. “Arthur Belmont.”

  She shakes it like she’s genuinely delighted. “Hi, Arthur. I’m Corinne. If you’ll tell me your room number, we’ll get you to the right elevator. Or do you need help to your door?”

  He flushes a little. “I might. Like the elevators, all these hallways look the same.”

  “They do, but I think your glasses need a good cleaning. Do you mind?” She reaches for them.

  “Go ahead.” He squints as she removes them, then sets them in his hand.

  From her clutch, she takes out the case holding her sunglasses and withdraws a soft cloth, then polishes his lenses until they’re fingerprint free again. Afterward, she settles them back on his face. “Better?”

  “Much. It’s not foggy here after all.” He laughs at himself.

  “No. If you’ll tell me your room number, we’ll get you settled.”

  Arthur murmurs the information and hands her his key. “Do you know where that is?”

  “Since it’s not in my tower, I don’t. I just got here last night. But we’ll figure this out,” she promises.

  I’ve heard enough. Since Parker’s pretty sister has decided to make assisting Arthur her good deed for the day, I’ll have to settle him before we can talk.

  I approach the pair. “I can help.”

  Corinne’s head snaps up. Her eyes widen. “What are you doing here?”

  She’s too smart to be genuinely asking such a naive question, so I merely smile and address the old man. “Hi, Arthur. I’m Xavian, a friend of Corinne’s. Let’s see if we can find your room, okay?”

  As he shakes my hand, he looks between us. “A friend, huh? Last time I had a ‘friend’ I looked at like she’s a delicious cupcake, I married her. That was fifty years ago.”

  I laugh. He’s a nice old guy, and he’s clearly relishing the attention. It’s not a problem, except I’m here to grill Corinne. But…I’m also not opposed to extra time to gape at her in that figure-hugging dress.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I quip, plucking the card key from Corinne’s hand. “Follow me.”

  “Do you know where you’re going?” she asks.

  “I’m familiar with this hotel.”

  She looks confused. “Even though you live on the island?”

  I merely toss her a smile over my shoulder. “I’ve spent a few nights here.”

  When my meaning sinks in, Corinne frowns, then takes Arthur’s arm, steadying him while they trail me to the correct bank of elevators. “Are you and your wife here on vacation?”

  He answers with pride as he shuffles behind me. “We are. I promised her something special for our fiftieth wedding anniversary. She’s always wanted to come to Hawaii. Between working two jobs and raising six kids, we never had time or money for big vacations.” He laughs. “Now she says she never wants to go home.”

  “Maui has that effect on people,” I tell him as we enter an open elevator. “What floor?”

  Arthur shrugs. “I can tell you what the view from our balcony looks like. I guess I didn’t pay attention to how I got there. I’ve always been a little directionally challenged.”

  “Tenth floor,” Corinne supplies.

  I push the button. “Your wife likes it here, obviously. What about you?”

  His smile beams. “I’ve never seen a place so beautiful in my life. Living here must be paradise.”

  “Most of the time,” I say as the car shoots up. “Three years ago, I came here on a business trip for a week. I connected with the people and the island…and I never left.”

  Corinne turns to me, surprise all over her face. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  I’m guessing Parker told her I’m a calculating asshole—no shock—so my spontaneous decision to move here doesn’t jibe with her preconceived notion of me. If we spend any time together at all, I’ll inevitably rattle her again.

  After a few minutes and a wrong turn, we finally find Arthur’s room. When his key card lets him right in, he’s visibly relieved. “Thank you. You won’t tell my wife that I got lost, will you?”

  “Nope,” I promise. “We men have to stick together.”

  “Nothing to tell, actually.” Corinne smiles. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

  “You, too,” he calls. “And not that you asked me, but you two would make beautiful babies.”

  She blushes and clears her throat. “That’s very kind, but we really just met.”

  Arthur’s smile widens as he turns to face me. “Then you should get to know each other better. Go buy the lady a drink.”

  When I first met the old man, I never imagined I’d be taking advice from him, but he’s onto something. “I think I will. Enjoy your evening.”

  “After my nap, you betcha. And if you two get married, I expect to be invited.” He winks.

  Corinne smiles, then rummages in her purse for a business card. “I’ll be here until Sunday morning. If you get lost, call me.”

  He clutches the card, his grin widening. “Will do.” Then he turns to me. “I’m the guy who got the girl’s number. You need to step up your game.”

  “Touché, you cheeky bastard.” I give him a jaunty, two-fingered salute as I open the door for Corinne, then file out behind her, leaving Arthur to rest—and me alone with my enemy’s gorgeous sister.

  Silently, we walk to the elevator. Well, she’s silent. Admittedly, I’m admiring her ass and wondering what she’d do if I touched her.

  She presses the button to summon a car and turns to face me. “Why did you come here?”

  “You didn’t really think this morning’s conversation was our last, did you?”

  “Unless you wanted to see my detailed business plan, yes.”

  I don’t give a shit about that. I’m in no position to invest right now…but she doesn’t need to know that. “I’m still thinking things over, and I have questions. How about that drink?”

  She tries to pretend she’s not leery, but her face gives her away. “All right.”

  We make our way back to the lobby bar, but when the bartender perks up at the sight of her and the party boy in the corner hustles in her direction like he thinks he has a chance, I stake my claim by fitting a hand to the small of her back and giving both men a warning stare. “It’s getting crowded and loud. How about we try the restaurant upstairs? It’s got a great view of the ocean. I’ll buy.”

  Corinne hesitates like she doesn’t trust me—not surprising since everything she knows about me she’s heard from Parker—then nods. “Lead the way.”

  Five minutes later, we’re seated at a cozy, linen-draped table for two beside a wrought-iron railing, overlooking a vast expanse of the Pacific. The sun is setting, throwing vibrant pinks, oranges, yellows, and blues above the shimmering water. The sick sunsets are one of the many reasons I love Maui.

  A waiter delivers water and takes our drink orders to the backdrop of Van Morrison singing about his “Brown-Eyed Girl.” I ask for another scotch. She surprises me by ordering something other than a standard mojito, margarita, sex on the beach, or cosmo.

  “A French 75, huh?”

  “I like the balance of dry gin and champagne, along with the bubbles.” She sounds defensive. “Did you want to talk about my choice of drinks or my business?”

  Neither. “I’m not criticizing, just saying that you surprise me.”

  She relaxes then, and I wonder if Parker jumped her case over something as trivial as her choice of drinks. Knowing him, he’s butted in on the way she leads her whole life.

  “Are you buttering me up for something?” She raises a brow at me. “Information about my brother, maybe?”

  “No.”

  “Secrets about the film dropping tomorrow?”

  Of course she’s seen it, and under other circumstances I might be interested, but… “No.”

  She frowns. “Then what? Sex?”

  I lean forward, elbows braced on the table, and stare straight into her dark eyes. “No. But if you’re offering, I wouldn’t turn it down.”

  “From what I hear, you never turn it down, so I have no interest in sleeping with you.”

  But she shifts nervously in her seat and her pulse jumps at her neck.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Parker said you had one heck of an ego. What I’m offering you is a chance to get revenge against my brother, just not at my expense. I know why you and Parker hate each other—”

  “You don’t,” I assure her.

  She shoots me a dubious stare. “You’re telling me his book was untrue, despite all his corroborating stories?”

  “No. It’s mostly true. He stretched things for effect, but…more or less, it’s accurate.”

  “See? You’re exactly what he described, which is why I would never sleep with you.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “An egotistical manwhore.”

  I shrug. “I’m good at the things I enjoy, princess—making money and making women come. Why deny the truth?”

  Her jaw drops. “Wow, you’re even more egotistical than I thought.”

  “If that’s how you want to see me…”

  The waiter saves the conversation when he sets our drinks in front of us. “Would you like to order dinner now?”

  Normally, I would because I hate wasting time, but talking to Corinne is the only way I’ll find out if she’s telling the truth or if she’s here to fuck me up on Parker’s behalf. And sometimes, booze is almost as good as truth serum.

  “We’d like another few minutes, please.” I smile at the waiter, silently promising him a fat tip if he’ll scram.

  “Very good.” He nods and walks away.

  Corinne takes a long sip of her cocktail. Her little groan of pleasure is sexy as fuck. The thought of undressing her and making her eke out those satisfied sounds gets a rise from more than my interest. But my cynical heart cautions me to stay on my toes. Even if she’s not here to do Parker’s bidding, she isn’t with me because she’s interested in me. She’s only interested in what I can do for her.

  A far too fucking familiar situation.

  I skim the rim of my scotch with my finger. “You do realize there are two sides to every story?”

  “You just admitted that everything my brother said was true.”

  “I said mostly. Did he ever tell you why I did it?”

  That question surprises her. “Other than your incredibly flawed character? He thinks you’re jealous of him.”

  I scoff. “And you believe him?”

  “He is my brother.”

  “Who’s never pissed you off? Who’s never been wrong? Who’s never bent the truth for his own purposes?”

  She doesn’t respond to that. “If you truly had a reason to make his last year of college a living hell, why has no one ever come forward with that story? Why haven’t you ever explained? Or even defended yourself?”

  “Come on… You’re naive if you believe anyone is going to listen to me over the multimillion-dollar budgets of both the publisher and the movie studio. If I said anything, it would only reinforce that I’m Xayden Coast and give more spotlight for Parker’s trash. Besides, the only other person who could corroborate my story is gone.”

  She downs another sip of her drink and stares at me. Her expression isn’t hard to read. She doesn’t want to know because she doesn’t trust me. And she doesn’t want to care about me as anything beyond the guy who can help her get her hands on her fortune. “Okay, you had a reason. It doesn’t involve me. I’m just looking for financial help.”

  “Or a fake fiancé.”

  She frowns. “I was kidding about that.”

  Maybe she was. I’ll table that…for now. “So you’re not curious at all about what made me hate your brother?”

  Corinne hesitates, her dark hair spilling over her bare shoulders. “It’s not why I’m here.”

  But she looks intrigued. I’ll give her time, lure her in. She’ll want the truth. She won’t be able to help herself. “Okay. Tell me your business plans and what kind of funding you’re looking for.”

  Her smile is immediate. She thinks she’s won. It’s cute. In fact, she’s adorably ballsy and seemingly naive at once. She’s definitely not as jaded as she wants me to believe.

  “I need five million dollars to expand, preferably in the next sixty days.”

  “For machinery?”

  She shakes her head, and I can’t help but notice the way the last of the day’s rays make her face glow. How beautiful would she look with her head on my pillow, her shiny dark tresses spread across my white sheets, and her cheeks pink while I’m fucking her to orgasm?

  “No. I hand-bead every piece. I always will. But I’ve outgrown my apartment, which I rent. I found a nearby house for sale that’s perfect. Three bedrooms and a bonus room. I’d use one for myself, and I can take the wall down between the other two to create one big workspace, like a craft and office area combined. The bonus room I can use for storage. I offer a lot of different styles, plus I do custom pieces. That means I keep a lot of raw materials on hand and they have to be organized.”

  She’s clearly thought through things that would make her production easier so she can expand to fit the current slew of orders. Still, I can’t help but play devil’s advocate.

  “What kind of partnership are you offering?”

  “I’m looking strictly for a loan. I’ll pay you back in no more than three years—with interest.”

  “Why me? You can get a loan anywhere. Can’t you?” Let’s see what she says to that.

  Corinne nibbles on her lip. “Banks won’t lend me that kind of money. Turns out that a twenty-two-year-old woman with a ‘hobby’ that makes money but has no collateral isn’t considered a good risk in this economic climate.”

  “Hmm…” She’s being honest about her loan status, at least. “What if hand-beaded smart watch bands aren’t the rage in a year? In a month? What will you do?”

  “Smart watches aren’t going away anytime soon, and every female who hates the industrial drone look—which is a bunch—wants something more interesting. I keep up with trends and fads, so I’m always at the forefront of fashion. And I have more traditional designs for people who want that, plus I’ve expanded to include bands for men that are bolder and more substantial but still functional. And I’m in touch with the celeb who first recommended my product. She’s turned me on to other influencers, many of whom have said they’ll do a plug for me for nominal fees as a favor to her once I’ve geared up. I can’t get cheaper, more effective advertising.”

  “Probably not, but I don’t give out loans, princess. I invest.”

  “That’s twice you’ve called me that. Don’t.”

  Is that silver spoon a touchy subject? “Take the endearment. It’s better than the other names for you rolling through my head.”

  “I’m not even slightly surprised.” Corinne sounds annoyed as she raises her hand to get the waiter’s attention. “Since you seem determined to make every moment we’re together difficult, I’m going to need another drink.”

  I smile. She’s playing right into my hands. “Go for it.”

  She drains the last of her French 75, then smiles when the waiter rushes off to bring her another. “Back to your question… You don’t have to worry about trends or my business going south, remember? In three years, I’ll come into my inheritance, then I can pay you back. All cash.” She snaps her finger. “You’ll make a profit, and we’ll go our separate ways forever.”

  Sure, but I have other ways of making a bigger return that don’t require me to tie up my liquid capital for three years. “You must have other rich friends. Since I’m both your brother’s enemy and an egotistical manwhore, why ask me?”

  “Because I thought you’d want revenge enough to say yes.”

  “Let’s be honest. That’s not the only reason. You need someone in your life who’s willing and able to stand up to your brother when he pulls his overbearing bullshit. Am I still the only person in pampered Parker’s life who’s never bent under his pressure?”

  She flushes a pretty pink, so I’m taking that as a yes. “Despite your flaws, I don’t think you can be bought.”

  Not by anybody. But especially him? “Fuck no.”

  When the waiter sets her fresh drink down in front of Corinne, she grabs it like a lifeline, swallowing half in two gulps.

  “When was the last time you ate?” I ask.

  After more of those noises that make my cock press uncomfortably against my zipper, she sets her drink down and rakes her tongue across her lips. It’s an unconscious gesture, but one that makes me wish we could skip dinner and get naked. “Breakfast.”

  Time to get her some food before her stomach rebels. I nod toward her menu. “Decide what you want to eat.”

  “You’re bossy. This business arrangement isn’t going to work if you’re questioning me half the time and spending the other half telling me what to do.”

  “I’m not your brother. I’m trying to keep you from passing out or throwing up.”

  Corinne scowls. “I’m not drunk.”

  She’s not…yet. “If you keep drinking like that on an empty stomach, you will be.”

  Her scowl deepens. “You might not be my brother, but you’re a lot like him—always thinking you know better. No wonder you were good friends before you became enemies.”

  “Let’s get one thing straight: I am nothing like your brother. If we go into business, I will never stab you in the back…unless you stab me first.”

  “Why should I believe you?”

  “Why are you here if you don’t?” I shrug. “This place grills some amazing fish, but if you’d rather just drink your meal, fine. I won’t stop you.”

  Corinne studies her half-empty glass, then sends me a tart stare. “All right. I’ll order.”

  “Good call, princess.”

  Her dark eyes narrow on me. “I told you not to call me that.”