She’s seemingly too flustered to notice, shifting in her chair again, her cheeks looking rosy, even by the restaurant’s dim lighting, as she thumbs her plump bottom lip. “Why would I want a boyfriend who didn’t?”

  That doesn’t answer my question, so I get more direct. Or maybe I’m just impatient because that mouth of hers… I want to feel it under mine. I want to hear it screaming my name in pleasure. I want to see it wrapped around my cock. I want it so bad I’m sweating. And I’m willing to fight dirty to have her. I just need to know who to crush. “Whoever he is, he’s a lucky guy.”

  “There’s no one now,” she admits between moaning bites of her flan. “After my last breakup, I decided to take time to focus on myself and my business. I was just about to graduate, finals were crazy… Replacing him didn’t seem urgent.”

  I hear two possible translations. One, the guy wasn’t that exciting and she doesn’t miss him. Or two, the asshole broke her heart and she’s afraid to try again.

  “If he let you go, don’t sweat him. You can do better.”

  “Where do you come up with these lines? Do you save them in some slick mental vault or do they just occur to you in the moment?”

  “Neither. I’m being honest. You, princess, I would treat like a goddamn queen between the sheets. Every moment we’re together, I’d worship you.”

  She squirms in her seat again. I’m taking that as a sign of interest, especially since her hypnotic dark eyes cling to me. “Aren’t you going to eat your flan? You haven’t touched it.”

  And she’s demolished hers, just like she threatened. Nice to know she can be softened with sugar and charmed with compliments. If we sat here and drank coffee long enough for her to sober up, what are the odds she’d let me take her to bed?

  Reluctantly, I shutter the thought. As much as I want her, I want revenge more. Pissing away a chance at meaningful retribution for fleeting pleasure isn’t smart. Besides, if I ever get Corinne into bed, I want to take my time. One night wouldn’t be enough.

  I spoon a bite of dessert in my mouth and set the plate aside. “It’s very good.”

  “But you’re not going to eat it?”

  “I’d rather concentrate on something sweeter.”

  “Stop flirting.”

  “Why should I?”

  “You don’t mean it.”

  Interesting response, though understandable, given the situation. “You seem awfully sure of that.”

  “Men like you are never interested in women like me.”

  That isn’t what I expected her to say. I lean back in my chair. “Meaning?”

  “Smooth, experienced, worldly… You certainly didn’t think much of me the first time we met.”

  “You were fourteen.”

  “Fifteen.” Then she rolls her eyes. “I realize you were…what, twenty? I’m not shocked you weren’t interested in me as a girl. But as a human being? You barely spoke to me.”

  And she seems hurt by that.

  “Not because I was snubbing you.” I could give her a million excuses, but she deserves the truth. “It was my first Christmas without my mom. Your house was more posh than anything I’d ever seen. And your grandparents weren’t thrilled I’d invaded their holiday, especially when they realized you had a crush on me. I kept my distance for them.”

  “Oh. None of that registered in my teenage brain. I just…wished you liked me back. It seems silly to say that now.”

  “Not silly, honest. That’s why I’m being honest, too. I want you.”

  She raises a dark brow at me. “I’m here for business, and I’m not in the market to make another mistake.”

  “What happened with the ex?”

  “Nothing. It’s over.” Her indifferent expression is a lie.

  “There’s always a reason.”

  Corinne scowls. “What happened with your last girlfriend?”

  “She fucked your brother behind my back and I ended the engagement, remember?”

  “You haven’t had a girlfriend since then?” She’s shocked.

  “I’ve realized I’m not a relationship kind of guy.”

  “Typical. After Riley—my ex—suddenly ended things after dating for nearly a year, I didn’t swear off all men, just the ones who avoid commitment…which seem to be ninety-nine percent of them, including you. We should say good night.” She stands, then braces herself on the table when she wobbles on her feet. “Oh, those drinks hit me harder than I thought.”

  I lunge to her side, propping my hand under her elbow and wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her. “You all right?”

  “My head was swimming. I’m okay now.”

  I’m not taking a chance. “Let me get you to your room.” I gesture the waiter over and promise him an even fatter tip if he can run my card and haul back here quickly. He nods and takes off, returning in record time. With one hand still supporting Corinne, I scrawl my signature at the bottom of the receipt, slam down the pen, and pick up her clutch. “Let’s go.”

  “Why are you helping me?” she asks as we shuffle to the elevator. “You hate my brother. The things he’s intimated about you in public must make life hard.”

  She’s not wrong, but something about her under the influence of gin and champagne makes her seem more fragile than the woman who brazened her way into my office. Maybe that’s because I suspect Riley, the ex, hurt her. Or because—thanks to booze—I’m seeing the real her. It’s also possible she’s deceiving me. “It’s not easy, but that doesn’t make me hate you.”

  Corinne snorts. “It just makes you want revenge. That’s why you’re being nice to me. You think I’m your golden ticket.”

  Initially, that was true. Now, I’m nice because she intrigues me, too. But I have to stay focused. If I want revenge, she’s my key. I can’t let my morals, my stiff dick, or my feelings get in the way. “We can finish this discussion tomorrow. Let’s get you upstairs.”

  “If you’re not going to give me a loan, we have nothing more to say.”

  “I haven’t said no,” I point out as the elevator doors glide open. The fact I will is irrelevant. “In you go.”

  With a sigh, she leans into the back corner of the car, her head lolling back. As soon as I press the button for her floor, she frowns. “How did you know what tower I’m in?”

  Just a guess? Admitting that I’m having a PI dig into her life will piss her off, so I change the subject. “You said earlier that your room isn’t near Arthur’s.”

  “True.” She frowns. “How did you know what floor I’m on?”

  Shit. “I think you mentioned it earlier.”

  “I didn’t.” Her frown becomes a scowl. “If you’re plying me with liquor, one-liners, and lies to get information about Parker from me, stop it.”

  “You’re awfully suspicious.”

  “Wouldn’t you be in my shoes?”

  “You came to me, remember?”

  She shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. You have no qualms about using my predicament to your advantage.”

  “I could say the same to you, princess.”

  “Who’s suspicious now? I just came for a loan.”

  I crowd her into the corner, brace my forearm above her head, and lean in close. “Or to fuck me over.”

  Our eyes meet. She stands frozen—except for the pulse pounding at her neck. “I’m not like that.”

  Maybe she’s not. The woman I spent the evening with doesn’t seem conniving…but I know firsthand that looks can be deceiving, especially when a woman with ambition has a dream and a plan. Hadley taught me that well.

  Since being this close to Corinne is messing with my head, I back away. Besides, we’re having a circular argument neither of us can win without proof, and despite the fact I’ve spent hours with her, I’m not any closer to zeroing in on her motives. I don’t like that. I’m not used to being unsure. I need the upper hand.

  “What are your plans tomorrow? If you’re only staying on the island until Sunday morning, you should see as much of it as possible.”

  She shakes her head. “I brought orders with me and my balcony has a decent view, so I’ll work from there.”

  “That’s not a vacation.”

  “It’s all the time away I can afford.”

  “What do you need help with? Shipping, packing, answering emails, grabbing supplies…”

  “All of it.” She sounds overwhelmed by her to-do list as the doors to the elevator open on her floor. “But—”

  “How about we make a deal? I’ll get you help—it won’t cost you anything—if you’ll give me a few hours tomorrow.”

  “For what?”

  “Conversation.” By then, I’ll have a plan that ensures we both get what we’re after while lightening her load. It’s a win-win. “Say yes.”

  She leads me down a breezeway, fishing in her clutch for her key before she slides it into the slot. When she opens the door and flips on the light, I stroll in behind her.

  As rooms go, this one is substandard. It’s small, shoved beside a utility closet, and looks like it hasn’t been substantially remodeled in at least a decade. Through the thin wall, I can hear a massive water boiler buzzing. She has a view of some palm trees—and the parking lot.

  Corinne works her ass off. She deserves better.

  She keeps her space neat as a pin, except the desk, which she’s obviously commandeered for work. And like her apartment in LA, the chair looks uncomfortable and the surface too small for her purposes.

  “What if I say no?”

  I shrug. “Then I walk. And since you’re the one who needs money…”

  “But you want something, too. Payback.”

  “I won’t deny that, but I can go about it a ton of different ways. Where else are you going to get five million dollars?”

  She hesitates. “I see why you have a reputation as a shark in financial circles.”

  “I get what I want.”

  Corinne sets her purse on a nearby dresser. “As much as I hate to add to your ego, all right. We’ll talk tomorrow. After all, my options are limited.”

  She concedes that far more easily than I suspected. Is that the French 75s talking? Or her plan to keep me off-kilter?

  Two can play that game…

  “Don’t worry. I’ll give you a good time.” I wink.

  She sends me a chiding glance. “Your definition of that and mine are probably different.”

  Still, that’s a yes. With a smug smile, I hand her my phone. “Put in your number.”

  Not that Owen hasn’t already emailed it to me, but Corinne doesn’t need to know that.

  “I have a feeling I’m going to regret this.” But she complies before handing the device back to me.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know what time I’ll be around.”

  “Be prepared to hear more about my business and my plans. I’m going to make you say yes to that loan.”

  “You’re welcome to try.”

  “Listen…” She bites her rosy lower lip, hesitating like she’s reluctant to say more. “You should plan on keeping a low profile tomorrow. The movie hits theaters and…” She grimaces.

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Worse than the book.”

  I expected Hollywood to make the truth even more salacious. What I didn’t expect was for Corinne to warn me. She certainly didn’t have to. Granted, it’s in her best interest if she wants money and especially if she doesn’t want her brother to know she’s on the island with me, but… “Thanks for the tip. I’ll give you one, too. Drink some water and take a few ibuprofen before bed.”

  “I will,” she murmurs just before I slip out of her room.

  The instant the door slams behind me, I glance at my phone, ignoring the ridiculous number of texts and voicemails—none from anyone important—and start making phone calls, the first to Owen. I don’t give a shit what time it is. I’m on the clock.

  “What can I do for you, Costa?”

  “Give me everything you can find on Corinne Emerson’s financials and background, especially about a guy she dated named Riley.”

  If I play this right, his loss will be my gain—at least temporarily—but the son of a bitch sounds like he deserves a punch.

  “Already on it.”

  “I need it by tomorrow morning.”

  “You’ll have a complete rundown by six a.m.”

  Not soon enough. “Get me whatever you’ve gathered by midnight. I’ll look for the rest by morning.”

  Then I hang up and head home.

  Time to start plotting the perfect way to take Parker down…and figure out how to handle my attraction to his little sister.

  Since I was up until nearly two in the morning reading Owen’s surprisingly thorough report, I’m not thrilled when my phone starts buzzing furiously just before six. After last night, I forgot to turn the damn thing off again.

  Fuck.

  I grope around on my nightstand to find my cell on its charger, then squint at the screen. Maxon.

  “’Ello.”

  “I figured I’d wake you. Sorry.”

  “So why did you?”

  My oldest brother pauses. “If you haven’t been online yet today, it’s…bad.”

  It takes my fuzzy brain a moment to figure out what he means. “The movie?”

  “Yeah. According to social media, you’re basically the Antichrist.”

  Corinne warned me. And right on cue, my phone starts buzzing again… “I’m not shocked. Are you rethinking our partnership now?”

  “No. And I’ve already talked to Griff. We’re on the same page.”

  The tension in my gut uncoils some, but I need to check in with Bethany and Clint, too. “Thanks.”

  “It’s just…we’re thinking it might be wise to hold the announcement about the partnership and put off the launch for another month or so. We’re not backing out. We want to make that very clear. This is strictly a strategic decision. Your press isn’t great right now”—my phone buzzes with more incoming texts—“and the venture will be more successful if we’re a few weeks removed from the negative coverage.”

  Nothing he’s saying is wrong. In his position, I’d probably make the same choice. We all have a ton of money tied up in this pending venture, so none of us want it to fail. But goddamn it if this isn’t just another way for Parker to still be fucking me—years later—despite the fact he slept with my fiancée and fractured our friendship. “I get it.”

  “I know you’re disappointed. We are, too. But we really think—”

  “You don’t have to explain.” My phone vibrates with more rapidly incoming texts, as if to underscore reality. “I really do understand.”

  “I want to make sure you do. Since Griff and I didn’t speak for three years, we both know how terrible it feels to lose your brother. He acknowledges that shit was on him and we’ve made our peace, but I want you to know we’ve both learned to put family first. We’re not going anywhere. This will happen and we’re proud to call you partner.”

  Just not right now. More buzzing just pisses me off. Not three seconds later, I decline an incoming call from an unknown number. I’m beyond pissed at the whole situation, but I can’t blame my brothers.

  Parker is another story.

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re coming to brunch on Sunday, right?”

  It’s become a family tradition, and he’s making sure I’m not placating him before running off to lick my wounds. His concern is nice. Considerate, even—something Maxon isn’t in business, so I know he means it. “I’ll be there.”

  His sigh sounds relieved. “See you then. Call me if you need anything.”

  I might need a stiff drink by noon…but right now I have priorities. “You do the same.”

  “And maybe shut your phone off for a while. You know, for some peace.”

  Peace is a pie-in-the-sky dream. I’m ready to make war. “See you.”

  He ends the call, and I climb out of bed, toss on some sweat shorts, and dial Clint, ignoring my phone’s almost nonstop vibrations. Bethany is probably feeding a baby right now, and I know how much she values that quiet time with the children she never thought she’d have.

  Her husband answers on the first ring. “Howdy.”

  His North Dakota greeting isn’t at all Hawaiian, but since I’m a transplant, too, I just smile. “I need to talk to you.”

  “What’s up?”

  Clint is a straight shooter; always has been. I appreciate that. “We intended to announce the fact I’ve become a full partner in the firm next week. How do you feel about the timing now?”

  “After reading Twitter this morning?” He drags in a heavy breath. “You’re asking me, but I think you know waiting might be wise.”

  I close my eyes. My stomach plummets to my toes. “How long?”

  “I don’t know. Beth and I haven’t really talked about it. A month or two? After yesterday’s trading…”

  It was awful, and today is off to another bad start. Rocking the boat isn’t a good idea when investors are already spooked.

  “Yeah.” I swallow down my disappointment. “If you two would rather, I’ll resign and—”

  “No! We wouldn’t rather that at all. The firm wouldn’t have survived the last three years without you, man. You’ve given us the luxury of having two kids back-to-back. Not only do we owe you, but we want you as a partner.”

  I know he means that, and I need to rein in my disappointment. And try not to strangle the next paparazzi who reaches out to me for comment. “Thanks.”

  “We should be the ones thanking you.” Then he pauses. “I know Barclay never acknowledging your existence must have hurt and that Parker Emerson was never any sort of friend since he’s raking you over the coals in public, but Beth and I would never do that to you. Your sister knows what it’s like to be betrayed by someone she trusted and loved.”

  From all accounts, our father was a raging asshole to all his children, but especially Bethany, throwing her under the bus to the feds when his Ponzi house-of-cards began to fall down. Yet she came back from that and found love with a man who had once made revenge against her his mission in life.

  “It sucks.”