1

ONE

DYLAN

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!” Weston, my business partner,

exclaimed from the front passenger seat of my service car as we

pulled away from the curb.

Restraining myself from directing the driver—a habit of mine,

surely not useful now when I’d been out of New York City for so long

—I looked behind me out the rear window at the two figures we’d left

behind. Donovan Kincaid, another one of my partners at Reach, Inc.

along with Weston King, was chasing down a girl who worked in the

office—Sabrina Lind.

I had only just met Sabrina this evening. The woman was

pleasant, smart, straightforward. Had a good head on her shoulders.

Weston and I had dined with her and her younger sister and had just

been finishing up when Donovan had come in, all blustering and

noble and knightly.

“Donovan called himself her boyfriend,” Weston said

incredulously, recalling the scene we’d just left. “Was I the only one

who heard that? I can’t be that drunk.”

It had been an out-of-character declaration for the usually tightlipped and brooding Donovan, but I’d seen this side of him before,

many years in the past. The last time he had given a woman his

heart.

If anyone asked me, he was wasting his time with this one.

Sabrina had said several things over dinner that suggested she was

no longer entertained by the circus that surrounded romantic notions.

“I heard it,” the young woman sitting next to me answered.

Now this one—Audrey, the younger sister whom I’d volunteered

to see home—a man would have a much easier time trying to woo

her. She’d made that clear over dinner as well.

Too bad she was that kind of girl. The kind of girl who wanted a

man to love her before she lifted her skirt. Otherwise...

I turned my head slightly, imperceptibly, and slid my eyes down

her form, pausing on the sweet curve of her breasts, watching her

chest rise and fall with her breath. My gaze had traveled this journey

several times this evening, but now I was lucky enough to have the

added view of her legs, which had been hidden under the table

before. They were long and toned, a little curve in just the right

place.

“I heard it,” she said again, “and it was so romantic.”

The swoon in her voice made me chuckle. God, she was young.

Younger than whatever ridiculous young age she actually was. Who

the hell even believed in romance anymore?

“I don’t understand,” Weston muttered, combing his hand through

his hair. “I’m Donovan’s best friend. I knew he was sleeping with her,

but I didn’t know he was her boyfriend. I didn’t know he was into her.

I was supposed to be into Sabrina. When did this happen? Where

have I been?”

Oh. That was right. Weston King believed in love and

relationships.

He turned his head to look at both of us in the backseat. “I’m

seriously asking here.”

I glanced at Audrey. Her expression said that she had been in the

know, but her lips were sealed.

That left me to console my partner. “You’ve probably been too

distracted with that Dyson pussy you’ve been banging,” I was

definitely still intoxicated. I didn’t normally use such crass language

in front of a lady. Especially such a young lady.

“Hey,” Weston said, pointing a stern finger in my direction.

“Elizabeth is not just some pussy I’ve been banging. I’m going to

marry her.”

Never mind that their engagement was part of a business ruse.

Despite the fact that it counted for nothing, Weston seemed to have

grown fond of the girl—even as he bemoaned the loss of Sabrina.

It was exhausting.“You’re exhausting,” I told him.

“I’m exhausting?” He seemed baffled by the idea that he would

exhaust anyone.

“The entire lot of you. More exhausting than the flight across the

pond. All of you are intelligent creatures normally. I wouldn’t have

gotten into business with partners who gave in to the whims and

fancies of human nature. It takes a clear head, your feet on the

ground, your priorities straight, to be as successful as we have been

with our company.

“But now the lot of you have gone and eaten some fruit from the

tree of temptation. Drank the potion number nine. Watched one too

many N*****x Christmas specials, because you’ve suddenly all

descended into the ridiculous camp of men who fall in love with

women.”

“Wait,” Weston halted me. “I never said I was in love with

Elizabeth Dyson. I only said I was going to marry her.”

“You spent the entire dinner pining after her. Pining, Weston King.

Surely pining is a sign of love.” I turned to the audience member that

I knew would be on my side.

“Yes, indeed,” Audrey nodded, with a bob of her head that was

somehow both girlish and sexy as hell. “Pining is Love 101. If a girl

came to me and said the guy had told her he was pining after her?

That’s like popping the question.” “Exactly like,” I said straight-faced. I was being sarcastic, of

course, but the girl did make me want to smile.

Among other things.

I stretched my arm across the back of the seat bench, casually,

making myself comfortable. Not making a move. No, not that.

“I am not in love with Eliza—”

“And on top of your pining…” I said, speaking loudly over

Weston. His denial, which he was surely about to deliver in full, was

infuriating and, frankly, patronizing, and I refused to listen to more

than a second of it. “We have Donovan, who declares a relationship

with a woman on a public street, for crying out loud, in front of his

partners. I thought for sure that man, of all of you, had reason.” He

must have forgotten how miserable he’d been the last time he’d

given his heart, albeit ten years ago.

Soon enough, he’d remember.

“And then we have Nate,” I continued. A man of varied sexual

pleasures and interests, Nathan Sinclair had been another fly I’d

never expected to drop. “When I’d had drinks with the man last night,

he was talking about one particular woman like she hung the moon.

Soon it will just be me and Cade.”

I leaned closer toward Audrey, since she probably didn’t know

anything about our fifth partner who headed the Tokyo office. “No

one will ever love Cade, even if he goes pansy on us. That’s a man

that even a mother wouldn’t love. He’s one of my best friends. I

ought to know.”

Weston harrumphed from the front seat, completely indignant,

but I noted a hint of optimism, as though he hoped I were right about

his future, and that he’d be leaving the bachelor life for good.

He really had gone bananas over that Dyson girl. Poor sucker.

I stole another glance at Audrey, curious at how badly I’d

offended her with my speech, love-cheerleader that she was.

But when I turned in her direction, I hadn’t expected that she’d

already be staring at me. The flush in her round cheeks as she

looked quickly away sent a jolt to my todger.

I should have been ashamed of myself.