Книга - Tonight: City of Sin / Shipwrecked

Tonight: City of Sin / Shipwrecked
Nana Malone

Sienna Mynx


Prepare to be swept away as two couples embark on an odyssey of secret longings and scorching desires…City of Sin by Nana MaloneA weekend at Las Vegas’s over-the-top Decadence Hotel is strictly business for marketing analyst Synthia Michaels. Until her rival for a major account—gorgeous, blue-eyed Tristan Dawson—shows her just how irresistible a bad boy can be. But unless the reformed playboy can inspire her trust as well as her passion, what happens in Sin City will stay there.Shipwrecked by Sienna MynxProfessor Deja Jones still fantasizes about the mind-blowing kiss she shared with Jon Hendrix at their siblings’ wedding. Now an anniversary celebration on his family’s private island brings her face-to-face once again with the enticingly sexy sports agent. When a storm strands them together, will their explosive attraction ignite into something stronger and deeper?







Prepare to be swept away as two couples embark on an odyssey of secret longings and scorching desires...

City of Sin by Nana Malone

A weekend at Las Vegas’s over-the-top Decadence Hotel is strictly business for marketing analyst Synthia Michaels. Until her rival for a major account—gorgeous, blue-eyed Tristan Dawson—shows her just how irresistible a bad boy can be. But unless the reformed playboy can inspire her trust as well as her passion, what happens in Sin City will stay there.



Shipwrecked by Sienna Mynx

Professor Deja Jones still fantasizes about the mind-blowing kiss she shared with Jon Hendrix at their siblings’ wedding. Now an anniversary celebration on his family’s private island brings her face-to-face once again with the enticingly sexy sports agent. When a storm strands them together, will their explosive attraction ignite into something stronger and deeper?


City of Sin by Nana Malone

“You are infuriating and obstinate,” Tristan muttered.

The hell she was. She poked him again. “You’re a pompous jackass, so I guess—”

He shut her up with a hot, searing kiss. She should have seen it coming, but irritation had blinded her.

His strong arms wrapped around her, and his scent wove a hypnotic spell, seducing her, making it impossible to think.



Shipwrecked by Sienna Mynx

“What’s your name?” he asked. His hand moved to hers and squeezed.

“Huh?” she answered.

“Your name is Huh?” he asked.

She laughed and shook her head no.

“Tell me your name, beautiful,” he said. They were introduced just an hour before the wedding. He walked her down the aisle. Didn’t he remember? When she considered it further, she recalled that besides the spilled drink incident, they hadn’t spoken and were never formally introduced.

“Your name?” he whispered again. God help her, her knees nearly gave way. All he was doing was stroking her arm, and it excited her.

“Deja,” she said.

“Ahh, Deja. Very beautiful.”


NANA MALONE is a USA TODAY bestselling author. Her love of all things romance and adventure started with a tattered romantic suspense she borrowed from her cousin on a sultry summer afternoon in Ghana at a precocious thirteen years old. She’s been in love with kick-butt heroines ever since. You’ll find Nana working hard on additional books for her series. And if she’s not working or hiding in the closet reading, she’s acting out scenes for her husband, daughter and puppy in sunny San Diego.



SIENNA MYNX, bad-girl author of over thirty contemporary interracial romances, is acclaimed for her tales of torrid affairs between alpha heroes and the women born to tame them. Her stories awaken carnal desires and provoke laughter, soft sighs and gratifying tears of relief. Sienna’s novellas reflect her thirst for romance told from a steamy, passionate perspective with the diversity women of all colors crave in erotic romance. She lives in southern Georgia.


Tonight

City of Sin

Nana Malone

Shipwrecked

Sienna Mynx






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Table of Contents

Cover (#u511f5530-c1e0-5324-9203-efa8501d601f)

Back Cover Text (#u57b4e888-1a4a-50c8-a9ba-32141a4b6de4)

Introduction (#u97eca344-cba6-5a12-b98d-0bd5003b3991)

About the Author (#u6e917de0-7b8e-5e14-b04a-d1eaa9a61d8c)

Title Page (#u0d076fa2-c514-552b-bc11-d1e6b5bef132)

City of Sin (#u13458a4e-c12e-5266-9d40-18955efb0a32)

Dedication (#u32437e22-33b6-58e4-9ba9-467b60adb1d0)

Acknowledgments (#ub32193fd-1e88-5643-9306-7686b21230e9)

Dear Reader (#u9dbd51b1-9f1c-5dbc-909e-11ccb0a2a2cf)

Chapter 1 (#u478e6a4c-b514-5c25-91af-f7306c777f7b)

Chapter 2 (#ucbda088e-f859-5613-b791-f860456ee2ff)

Chapter 3 (#u7c311ab9-aead-5891-84a1-557e4408fa8a)

Chapter 4 (#ud3f86095-2c4b-5d86-b633-855271b54e4f)

Chapter 5 (#uf283200d-c8fc-5a0d-8bbb-fe217547d56f)

Chapter 6 (#ud25452a8-83ac-5ae0-a398-d797a6eec675)

Chapter 7 (#ud6f6ca20-b332-5f00-b8e9-2caa7dde7885)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)

Shipwrecked (#litres_trial_promo)

Dedication (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)

Prologue (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 1 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 2 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 3 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 4 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


City of Sin

Nana Malone


To everyone who ever needs to let go a little.

Your fun is waiting.


Acknowledgments (#ulink_07cd5514-2c5c-59af-9519-9c3d0f5a81e7)

Many thanks to my terrific editor, Glenda Howard,

and my fabulous agent, Natalie Lakosil, for bringing me into the Harlequin Kimani Press family.


Dear Reader (#ulink_be772ab5-378d-5685-9f7e-13b93e741191),

You know that saying, “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas”? What if it doesn’t? What if what happens in Vegas is love? Mortal business enemies Synthia and Tristan duke it out for their hearts and a job in one of my favorite cities. I loved writing this story because Syn is a woman close to my own heart, sometimes a little too serious. But when she lets go, the world is her oyster. The two of them are fun, snappy and unpredictable. I can’t wait for you to meet them.

Always remember to Romance the Sass.

Nana

If you don’t want to miss a single Nana Malone romance, make sure you join my reader group here: eepurl.com/blicGL (http://www.eepurl.com/blicGL).


Chapter 1 (#ulink_0e1d5844-aebd-5901-b2f5-1cf39adbbfe5)

Tristan Dawson. Every woman’s dream man in the looks department. Smart, sexy and oozing with charm. Too bad he was the enemy. And currently trying to charm his way into a project that was rightfully hers.

She was going to kill him. The single thing stopping Synthia Michaels from lining up her alibi was the whole prison thing. She was way too cute for an orange jumpsuit. As she glared at her nemesis, she plotted all the possible ways she could engineer his demise.

The jerk was flirting with the client. Okay, maybe flirting was a strong word, but he was certainly working his Tristan Dawson make-them-panties-drop smile. And with that smile, Syn felt her chances of landing this assignment slipping away.

From the moment Tristan started working at Stellar Reach as a market analyst, they’d been at odds, butting heads over client decisions and methodology. She loathed everything he stood for. She worked her butt off with painstaking attention to detail and serious work ethic. She couldn’t deny it, his work was always done and it was difficult to find fault with the output. But his charisma and good looks gave him an unfair advantage. He’d poached some of her best clients with his effortless appeal. And God help the female clients. Syn turned her attention to Bella Bliss, Vice President of Marketing and Operations of Bliss Hotel Group, and almost felt sorry for the poor woman. Bella was a smart businesswoman, but here she was, salivating and stuttering over Tristan.

Not that Syn could entirely blame her. He was gorgeous. Tall and leanly muscled, he had a way of walking that made women stop and stare, imagining how good he’d be in bed. Couple the sheer sex appeal with his tanned skin and chiseled jaw, and most women around the office were goners.

On a regular day Tristan Dawson was hard to ignore, but in moments like this with him turning the full power of his allure on a client, the world was his. Syn was in no mood. She wanted this client.

She slid a glance over Tristan’s heart-stoppingly handsome face and studied the way he smiled at Bella, as if she were the only one in the room. When he spoke, he was professional, but there was something about the way he talked and that rasp infused into his voice. It made Synthia’s pulse race. Bella’s too apparently, because the petite hotel magnate was staring at him as if he were the second coming of battery-operated boyfriends.

Bella Bliss leaned forward, her cropped double-breasted jacket giving the whole room an excellent view of her cleavage. Their boss, Bryan James, pretended not to notice. And if Syn was being fair, she’d have to give Tristan a medal for effort. As far as she could tell, he’d kept his gaze on Bella’s eyes or at least in the general vicinity of her head.

Synthia also did her level best to ignore the blatant come-hither signals the hotel magnate was sending Tristan’s way, but it was hard.

This was her client, and she wasn’t about to roll over and let Tristan have it. No matter that the client was obvious about wanting him on the job. Bliss Hotel Group had been a long-standing client of Stellar Reach. It was standard practice to select the teams once the contract had been signed. It helped keep perspective fresh.

Synthia cleared her throat. “Bella, I’m thrilled about the opportunity to work with you again. I was part of the marketing and branding team for Bliss New York a few years ago.”

Bella dragged her intent gaze from Tristan. “Oh, you were?”

Synthia nodded. “Yes. I was just an intern at the time, but I’m familiar with the Bliss brand.”

Bella’s gaze blinked into sharper focus as if suddenly realizing she was here for work and not for a date. She nodded, sending her fluffy blond curls shifting around her shoulders. “I’ll have to review the work that was done on that. Since you have so much experience with the brand, you can bring Tristan here up to speed, Ms. Michaels.”

Synthia didn’t miss the familiarity Bella used with Tristan and the formality she used with her. In Bella’s head, Tristan was already running the branding campaign.

Suck it up, Michaels. So what if Bella Bliss was looking at Tristan as if he were an ice-cream cone in the middle of a Santa Ana summer? She wasn’t out of this yet. All she could do was her best. Lucky for her, on her worst day she could run miles around Tristan Dawson on his good day. She had this.

Tristan leaned closer to her, and her breath caught. For the most part, Synthia could ignore him, but when he turned those electric-blue eyes on her and made her the focus of all his attention, sometimes she forgot to breathe. But she was taking that little secret to the grave.

To make matters worse, he was silver-spooned, drove a BMW, and had the most sensual smile. Pretty much female kryptonite. And damn him, he knew it.

Syn tried to focus her attention on what Bryan was saying. Resolute, she kept her eyes on her laptop. But refusing to look at Tristan wouldn’t help. He would still be there in all his sexiness staring at her, taunting her. To keep herself from temptation she dragged her eyes to Bryan as he spoke.

“As the two of you know, we’ve been working with Bliss Hotel Group for years. They want a full competitive research and branding package for their new hotel in Las Vegas.”

A spike of adrenaline lit her blood, and her inner competitive nature stretched. She leaned forward and Tristan followed suit. God, the man was infuriating. He was always there. Always encroaching on her space. Syn kept her voice cool. “How soon do you want the research package?” As a senior market analyst for Stellar Reach, she excelled in market research for her clients. Identifying how to leverage what competitors were doing was one of her key strengths.

Bryan continued. “As you know, Bella’s team will be breaking ground in eighteen months. They’re looking for a full report on their lead competitors, the Decadence Hotel.”

Bella chimed in. “In every city there’s a Decadence, there’s also a Bliss. Over the years, we’ve been neck and neck for AAA Five Diamond Hotel ratings. With this new hotel, I want to blow them out of the water. So while you’re at Decadence, you’ll be posing as wealthy VIPs. We’ll provide you with everything that a VIP package entails. When we purchased the package, we left room for play but made use of their concierge services to book tickets and dinners and clubbing experiences. You’ll get to experience all that Decadence has to offer the elite crowd and you’ll report back. What we’re aiming for is information on their VIP experience that the average guest wouldn’t even know to ask for.”

Syn turned her attention to Bella, “I assume you still want the basics, the official room rates, the concierge, the facilities, the bottom line, their return on investment?”

She nodded. “Yes, of course. The bottom line is what it boils down to in the end. You’ll be provided with the preliminary report we have on Decadence.”

Tristan piped in, “While the bottom line is important, let’s not forget the customer experience. Those who like to work hard like to play even harder. So I’ll put that aspect into the report I compile.”

Bella beamed. “I’m sure you will.”

Syn chewed her lip. She’d worked on a Bliss Hotel campaign when she first started at the company. She wanted a real chance to prove herself now.

“Okay. If we get a team out there ASAP, we should be able to do some recon on the hotel and—”

Bryan held up a hand. “No team.”

She frowned. “What do you mean no team? We need to get to work as soon as possible. In an ideal world we would have done this months ago.”

Bryan smiled. “As usual, I appreciate your enthusiasm, Synthia, but you’re the team. We’re keeping it small this time.”

She frowned. What? She was expected to work with Tristan? The management at Stellar Reach fostered an environment of competition. They believed that it brought the best out in their people. It forced teams to strive for great results for their clients, as well as work hard to keep them happy lest they lose the account to someone else. And it did force everyone to bring their A-game.

Tristan finally spoke and Synthia steeled herself against the raspy, hypnotic tone in his voice. “So, what do you need Syn and me for? Our approaches are completely different.”

Bryan smiled. “I’m so glad you pointed that out, Tristan. Because the two of you complement each other.”

Synthia’s stomach rolled as she licked her lips. “I want to make sure I understand this right. You’re sending the two of us to Las Vegas...together.”

Her boss nodded. His ruddy cheeks going redder. “Yes. I believe the two of you bring some unique perspectives. You’ll head out for the three-day weekend and then present your findings to Bella at the end of the month.”

No. This couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t work with Tristan. He was disorganized. Hot. Brash. Sexy. A playboy. It was clear he knew his way around a woman’s body. The bane of her existence. The object of every fantasy she’d ever had over the past two years since he’d come to work at Stellar Reach.

Synthia cleared her throat. “All due respect, Bryan, but Tristan and I have different methods. Perhaps in the interest of time, it would be best for Bliss to send just one of us. I have more experience with the account, but the choice, of course, is up to Bella.” There was no way she was going to survive a weekend in Vegas with him. She would spontaneously combust before they even got off the plane. Either that or kill him.

Bryan shook his head. “Normally, Synthia, you’d be right. Your styles are very different. But given our timeline and given that we need to see how the competition is doing, we need you both. Your skill sets will be a good match on this. Synthia, you’ll focus on the bottom line. Check out pricing on rooms, activities and the like. You know the drill. See if you can find out their base costs. Tristan, I want you to focus on the services they provide. They are elegant but provide a fantasy element. And a very elite experience like what Bliss is trying to do. Both of you bring back your findings. From there, Bella will determine who will run the marketing and branding team.”

Heading the marketing and branding team for a hotel like Bliss? That would be a huge career coup.

A client like that would be a shining star on her résumé. And if she did well, she could leverage it for a promotion in her next review. Plus, with the bonus, she could cover the entire last year of her sister’s college tuition. As it stood, the payment for this semester was looming in a month, and thanks to footing the bill for last year’s semester abroad, she was low. All she had to do was suffer Tristan Dawson for a weekend? Done.

She would just stay away from him. Wouldn’t be difficult. Staying late and grinding wasn’t his methodology. He said he worked better in the morning. They would just work separate schedules. It never ceased to amaze her how he’d risen though the ranks so quickly. He was haphazard and never took anything too seriously. His office looked like a war zone and he lacked finesse. But somehow the clients adored him. But he wasn’t her problem. She knew what it took to succeed. And she had the drive to get there. All Tristan had to do was stay out of her way. She squared her shoulders. “When do we leave?”


Chapter 2 (#ulink_b3fe8968-0d4e-5de1-ae4c-c4bc11054a1c)

Three days with the ice princess. Tristan Dawson wondered who he’d pissed off to get that sentence. Fun wasn’t in her repertoire. It would be like carrying an anchor around Vegas. Talk about a buzzkill. A beautiful buzzkill. But a downer nonetheless. It was a real shame too, because she might actually be fun if she ever loosened up a little.

From his first day at Stellar Reach, she’d fascinated him. Her reputation preceded her. She was tough and smart and got the best clients. Simply put, she’d been the one to beat. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t take his eyes off her. If he wanted to be considered on his merits and not his name, he had to give her a run for her money.

In the early days it had been difficult. She was always overprepared and came to win every time. It also didn’t help that he’d spent the first two months struck stupid by her beauty. Her skin resembled melting chocolate and looked so soft he itched to touch her. Her dark, almond-shaped eyes dominated her face, complemented by high cheekbones and a beguiling smile. Granted, she’d never turned that soul-stunning smile in his direction, but he’d seen it before.

It hadn’t taken long to learn that her nickname was synonymous with aloof and cold. Which was a real shame because her real name suggested otherwise.

Tristan closed his laptop. “If Synthia doesn’t have a problem working with me, then I don’t have one either.” Except he’d be pretty much attached at the hip with her through the whole trip. Normally being partnered with a woman all weekend wasn’t a hardship. He loved women. All women. But this one made him insane. Made him feel certifiable. He’d never met anyone more uptight. From day one, all he’d ever wanted to do was muss her up. Just once, he’d love to see her hair out of that bun and wild. The instant heat pooling in his gut made his skin flush. Easy does it. Thinking about how to get her hair wild and messy wouldn’t do him any good. She already starred in too many of his dirty fantasies than were good for him. Not to mention that she’d flay him if she ever found out.

Their boss beamed at the both of them. “I’m glad the two of you are on board. Now, Synthia is more senior, so if any questions arise, just defer to her opinion. But I think you both can be our secret weapon on this contract, looking at both sides of the equation.”

Once they were dismissed, Tristan followed Synthia out of the office. The moment they were out of earshot, he whispered, “I won’t hold it against you that you just tried to toss me from the project.”

She halted and turned her glacial, indifferent smile on him. “I’m sorry you see it that way. I was merely trying to save you from having to do any heavy lifting. I know how averse you are to that.”

A spike of adrenaline hit him. There was no one he’d rather argue with. “Now, don’t be mad just because I get to have some actual fun and you’re stuck looking at the numbers.”

She veered toward her office and despite his better judgment he followed. “Well, my idea of fun isn’t to troll the Vegas strip clubs.”

He let his mouth drop open and clutched his chest when they reached her office. “I’m wounded, Synthia. You think that I would stoop so low? I’m a classy guy. And I want only the best. I’d hire a private service to bring the girls to me.” He winked at her.

“You’re disgusting.”

He grinned. He liked naked women as much as the next guy, but the whole strip club thing didn’t do anything for him. If he was going to see a naked woman, there had better be touching involved. He mostly just liked to ruffle Syn’s too neat, too perfect feathers. “You know, one of these days, you’re going to have to tell me why you don’t like me.”

She directed her dark gaze on him. “It’s not that I don’t like you. It’s that I’m indifferent. I do my best not to think about you ever.”

God, she was impossible. “If you say so, sweetheart. You just keep telling yourself that. In the meantime, this trip to Vegas will be really fun.”

She shrugged as if she couldn’t give a damn. “As long as you stay out of my way, we’ll be fine.”

His hackles rose. “Honey, I have no intention of seeing you the whole time we’re there.” Liar. What he wanted to do was see sexy, mussed-up Synthia in Vegas.

She crossed delicate arms over her chest and drew in a deep breath. He almost high-fived himself for managing not to sneak a peek at her gentle curves. He didn’t need that kind of torture through the rest of the day. “That will work fine with me.” Her tight, brittle scowl morphed into that brilliant smile of hers and Tristan’s brain shorted. Then she added. “Now, don’t let the door hit you on the way out, Junior Warbucks.”

She turned and walked to her desk as if she didn’t give a damn whether or not he still stood there. Grinding his teeth, he left her office and didn’t bother giving her the satisfaction of slamming it.

Back in his office, Drake Murphy, the head of Stellar Reach’s legal team, was waiting for him with his feet kicked up on the coffee table.

“Make yourself at home why don’t you, Drake?” Tristan mumbled.

His friend grinned. “Thank you, don’t mind if I do.” He inclined his head toward Synthia’s office. “You and your girlfriend at it again? I could hear you from here.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Tristan deposited his laptop onto his desk and sank into his chair.

Drake tossed a Nerf basketball at his head and laughed. “Oh, but you want her to be. It’s like you’re pulling her pigtails, man.”

Tristan cracked his neck and tossed the basketball smoothly into the hoop mounted on the wall. “I don’t want her.” He impressed himself with how smoothly the lie flowed off his tongue. He was ready to claw his skin off, he wanted her so bad.

Drake laughed. “I swear, the two of you bicker like crazy people. I honestly wish you two would just hit the sack and get it over with already. It’s hard to watch.”

“Never going to happen.” Tristan narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me, aren’t you legal? Should we even be discussing this?”

“I left my legal hat at the door. Do I need it?” Drake studied his friend.

“Not that I know, but she might glare me to death. No matter what I do, she’s not warming up to me.”

Drake nodded. “Well, that’s because you’re an idiot.”

Tristan laughed. “Only sometimes.”

“You ever planning on doing anything about that?”

“Like what?” Kissing her until she melts in my arms?

Drake tossed another Nerf ball at his head and Tristan caught it one-handed. “You know, asking her out like a grown-up. Since that’s what you really want to do. This whole acting-like-a-jerk thing isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

“It’s not like I’m doing it on purpose. She’s immune to my charm. The woman hates me.”

Drake shrugged. “Well, maybe if you stopped poaching her clients she might like you better. I don’t know about you rich boys, but for us common men, when we hit puberty we got the lesson that girls like it when you’re nice to them.”

Tristan shook his head. “I’ll try to remember that when I’m stuck with the she-devil in Vegas.”

Drake blinked at him. Then blinked again. “You’re going to Vegas with her?”

“Yeah, to do recon for Bliss.”

A low roar of laughter spilled out of Drake. “Oh, man, this is going to be good.”

“Yeah, good for you. One of us is going to need a lawyer after we declare war on each other. It’s going to get crazy.”

“Maybe you try being nice to her.” Drake winked as he stood. “Might even throw her off her game. She’s been on the Bliss account before. She’s going to fight you hard for this one. You’ll need every advantage you can get.”

The one thing Drake didn’t know about Synthia was that she always fought to win, Bliss account or not. “Yeah, I’ll give it some thought.”

Tristan’s desk phone rang as his friend meandered out of his office. He answered with a brusque “Dawson.”

There was a brief pause and the hairs on the back of his neck stood. “Tristan, it’s your father.”

His stomach pitched. As if he couldn’t recognize the old man’s voice. “Dad...everything okay?” How long had it been since they’d seen each other? Six months maybe? Since his sister Tawny’s last birthday. And even then, they’d avoided each other and said as little as possible.

The old man cleared his throat. “Yes, everything is fine. I’m calling about Taylor’s congratulatory dinner for his promotion. It’s this weekend.”

Hell. Yet another reason to be a disappointment. “Sorry, Dad. Can’t make it. I’ll be out of town.”

“This is important, Tristan. Your brother just became a vice president. You can put off whatever vacation plans you have.”

Tristan gritted his teeth. “It’s for work, Dad.”

His father harrumphed. “Work? That place you go every day hardly qualifies as work.”

And there it was. It had taken less than a minute for his father to tell him that he wasn’t living up to his potential. “If this conversation is veering toward you telling me to come back and help run Dawson Incorporated, then we don’t have anything else to talk about. I have no desire to be an investment banker.”

“Why do you insist on being so stubborn? This is your legacy.”

“I would rather have something I earned. You taught me that all that money comes with strings I’d rather not have attached, so if this is you asking nicely, then I’m going to have to politely decline.”

“You are so irritatingly stubborn and childish. All I asked was that you heed my advice, and you walked away from this family.”

The knot of anger increased even as it grew tighter. “Is that how you remember it? I remember it differently.” When he’d told his father he didn’t want to work at the investment firm, the old man threatened to cut him off.

“Don’t act like a child. I can pull you home whenever I want. Do you really think that you’re insulated in your little job? If I want, I can come in and buy that place. You will have to learn eventually that I am in control. I can fight to get control of your trust fund.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Dad. We’re done.” Tristan hung up with a soft click of the phone. It didn’t matter how much his father got to him. The old man wasn’t his puppet master. He’d fought hard for his independence and he was going to keep it. And that meant landing this account. Even his father couldn’t ignore the prestige of the position. All he had to do was beat Syn for it.

* * *

“That man is a pain where the sun don’t shine. He’s insufferable and a jackass.”

“Don’t forget smoking hot, because let’s face it. He is.”

Synthia scowled at her best friend, Olivia Banks. She and Liv had been friends since they started at the company as interns over five years ago. Synthia could always count on her friend to give it to her straight. “Try to keep up, Liv. We hate him, remember?”

Liv put up her hands and laughed. “Oh, honey, I remember. He is our sworn enemy and we have to make him suffer. But that doesn’t preclude us noticing the assets on hand.” She waggled her eyebrows.

Syn rolled her eyes and plopped into her chair. “I swear, you’re almost as bad as he is.”

Liv clapped a hand to her chest. “Now, I take offense at that. I might ogle and appreciate, but I don’t use my...” She paused and reconsidered. “Okay, so maybe I’ve used my gifts for evil before, but Tristan Dawson takes it to a whole new level.”

Synthia bit back a chuckle. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Liv grinned. “Funny, I’ve been told that before.”

Synthia let the tension roll out of her shoulders. “I swear, you should have seen his smug face. With his magnetic smile and his focused attention, Bella didn’t stand a chance. She was all fluttering eyelashes and breathy voice by the time Tristan freaking Dawson was done with her. She’d been Dawsoned.” Liv had coined the phrase when he started at the company two years ago to describe how most of the women in the company reacted when Tristan graced them with a smile. Except Syn.

“So, what are you going to do about it?”

Synthia raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think I’ve got a plan?”

“Because. This is you we’re talking about, so rolling over and playing dead is not in your nature. You’re too stubborn and good.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Liv, but I’m a little worried about this one.”

Liv frowned. “Why?”

“Because of Tristan. You know they’re sending us to Vegas. I just know he’s going to use this opportunity to his advantage. I’m getting the impression from Bella Bliss that she’s more interested in what Tristan can provide her in the bedroom than what I can provide her for the hotel.”

“Then why don’t you fight fire with fire?”

Syn frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Hear me out. Tristan is already using his charm to his advantage. Your best traits are your brain and your tenacity, which you have in spades, but you have an ace in the hole.”

Syn laughed. “Oh, really? What’s this ace? Do I have a magic wand that will make Bella pay attention to the facts and figures when I present?”

“You can call it a magic wand, I’ll just call it your banging bod.”

Syn raised her eyebrows. “Um, I don’t think Bella’s into chicks, Liv.”

Liv shook her wild mane of red hair. “No. It can’t have escaped your notice how Tristan looks at you. There’s interest there.”

“Um, in case you haven’t noticed, we can barely stand to be in the same room with each other. It’ll be a wonder if we both make it back from Vegas in one piece.” She pointed a finger at her friend. “In case there’s any doubt, I’m the one who’ll be burying a body.”

Liv giggled. “Of that I have no doubt, but take me seriously. All you have to do is play nice with Tristan and he’ll be too busy focusing on you to focus on his work. You’ll have the whole thing in the bag before he knows what hit him.”

Flirt with Tristan? Yeah, no. Didn’t matter that the thought alone made the butterflies flutter low in her belly. “Not going to happen. I’m getting this account all on my own.”

Liv groaned. “Honey, I’m not suggesting you sleep with the guy, but if you do, please take detailed notes and let me live vicariously. I’m just saying throw him off his game a little. Right now he’s in there with his boy, planning your takedown. Do you or do you not remember the Boyd account?”

Syn ground her teeth. Boyd Seduction had been her account for over a year. But one chance encounter between Tristan and the lingerie designer’s CEO and Syn was off the account and out that bonus check. Her work was better than his, but there was a certain kind of client that liked his demeanor. That kind wanted to have a personal connection. And while she was hardworking and well liked, everyone loved Tristan. Except you.

“I can’t do it, Liv. Besides, don’t you think Tristan will see that coming from a mile away? He’s not dumb.”

Liv sighed. “Honey, the amount of time that man spends looking at you, he won’t be thinking at all.” She winked. “Besides, I’m just asking you to be nice, throw him off. Meanwhile, you’re getting together the best presentation Bella Bliss has ever seen.”

Okay, this was getting out of hand. “First of all, Tristan doesn’t look at me.” But just the idea of it made her body flush with heat. Tristan Dawson was the stuff of really hot, need-battery-operated-boyfriend inducing dreams. With his broad shoulders and teasing grin, it was no wonder.

Liv raised a delicately arched eyebrow. “Babe, if you believe that, then I have a bridge to sell you. What you have to ask yourself is, how badly do you want this account?”

She didn’t have to ask herself that question. She already knew she’d do whatever it took to get the Bliss account. Even if it meant cozying up to her nemesis.


Chapter 3 (#ulink_ee1856a8-0b5f-5ea9-9eb9-f5c060916de0)

Three whole minutes into his trip with Synthia and Tristan was ready to call uncle.

By the time they boarded the plane, his nerves were raw. It’s only three days. Yeah, maybe, but he was pretty sure someone would catch a legal case before the weekend was up.

The car service had picked him up first, and when they’d gone to her house to get her, she already looked irritated to see him. Granted, he’d poked the dragon when he replied to her “Good morning” with “I’ve always wanted to see the natural habitat of an ice queen.” She’d rewarded him with a scowl. And so it had gone the rest of the way to the airport. Him teasing her, and her resolutely ignoring him while managing to shoot him daggers with her eyes.

He watched her struggle to stash her carry-on bag in the overhead bin for a moment before offering to help. Standing and leaning over her petite frame, he stabilized the bag.

“No, it’s okay, I really don’t need your help. I have it—”

The rollaway slipped again as a bottle of water escaped the side holder and rolled down the cabin. But then the bag gave way, bringing her body into direct contact with his, and they both froze.

He knew enough to hold his breath. The strawberry-scented hair product she used was enough to give him a hard-on for a week. He didn’t need to inhale that while he was in close proximity to her.

Syn wobbled in her heels and he placed his hands on her hips to steady her. Big mistake. Touching? What kind of idiot was he? But even though his brain gave the command, he didn’t let go. When he managed to force the words out, they tore from his chest. “You okay?”

She nodded but didn’t move for several breaths. Every sharp inhale brought her butt into tighter contact with his throbbing erection. Torture.

She turned in his arms, glancing at him from half-lowered lids. “Yeah, fine. Thanks.”

Something was wrong with this picture. Her pupils were dilated and her voice was breathy. Her tongue peaked out to moisten her lips and he bit back a groan, promptly letting go of her waist. She wanted him too.

* * *

Syn could ignore him. Hell, she would ignore him. It couldn’t be that hard. Never mind that she’d been locked in a flying tin can with him for the better part of an hour from Los Angeles to Vegas and his subtle musky cologne had started to weaken her defenses.

The blinding lights of the Strip dragged her focus from him as the limousine turned toward the hotel. “Wow.”

“You’re screwing with me.”

When she turned to face him again, Tristan was staring at her. “What?”

“You look like you’ve never seen the Strip before.”

She shrugged. “That’s because I haven’t.”

“How is it that a woman named Syn has never been to Vegas? Surely you’ve had some debauched girls’ weekend or something.”

She set her jaw. There wasn’t a lot of time for fun weekends when she had her sister to look after. “I’m always working. One of these days I’ll come just for fun.” Yeah, like when she didn’t have to worry about Xia’s tuition.

“It’s a shame. Even you have to have fun sometime.”

Her mouth dropped when they pulled up to the circular drive of the hotel. Decadence really had pulled out all the stops. The driver opened the door for them, and Synthia stared up, speechless. Thankfully her brain automatically shifted into work mode, and she turned on record on her phone so she could make impromptu notes as they went.

Behind her, Tristan chuckled. “I bet you were one of those nerdy girls who sat up front and took careful notes, weren’t you?” His breath whispered on the back of her neck and she shivered.

She gave him a bland smile over her shoulder. “I’m surprised you were ever in class long enough to notice them. Didn’t they excuse jocks from class in your college?”

He smirked. “I was Honor Society, actually.” Then he shrugged and added, “And quarterback.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course you were. Look, let’s just stay out of each other’s way while we’re here. I’m sure that will be easy enough. I’ll do my thing and you’ll do yours.”

“Fine by me, Princess. And if you need me for anything at all...” He slid his gaze over her, lighting little blazes everywhere his gaze landed. “Just look for where there are people having fun.”

“I won’t be looking for you.”

He smirked. “Sure you won’t.”

The gold-ribboned black marble reflected the light from the hanging chandeliers in the lobby. Synthia looked up and the crystal shimmered with rainbows of bounced light. Given the sheer number of guests for the grand opening, it should have felt crowded, but the lobby still seemed expansive, yet somehow warm. Greek gods of old were carved into the expansive pillars lining both sides of the lobby, and a massive statue sat in the center with an ornate water fountain surrounding it. Thanks to the lights in the fountain, the water appeared a deep burgundy color. As if mimicking wine. Maybe the center figure was supposed to be Bacchus, the god of wine and intoxication. She snuck a glance over at Tristan and he grinned. Of course. This was exactly his kind of place. There was an energy and a humming vibe of life that probably spoke to someone like him.

There were several sitting areas decorated with understated opulence. The furnishings were modern and simple, but the rugs were Aubusson and as decadent as the hotel’s name would suggest. The clientele was classy, wealthy. Clearly had money. But they were young. Tallying the average age of the guests milling around the lobby, she would have said no more than thirty-five. They were young with disposable income. These were not the young family types, though. More like young professionals looking to unwind.

Bella Bliss really had pulled out all the stops to get the lowdown on her competition. Syn and Tristan had VIP access to tonight’s opening of Excess Club and Lounge. Synthia had never been to Las Vegas before and even she had heard buzzing of the new, about-to-be-it bar. Rumor was tonight’s event was supposed to be star-studded with movie stars.

Synthia wasn’t usually one for parties, but she was actually looking forward to it. If she was lucky, she might have a celeb sighting. Xia would be pea green with envy. Not her thing, personally, but she told herself she owed it to her sister to at least try to enjoy the experience even though she was stuck with Tristan.

At the check-in desk, she handed over her ID. All she wanted was a hot bath and a chance to get to work in some peace and quiet. First things first, she’d ask for a tour of the rooms, then get a hold of the concierge and make nice. She already had her cover story. Looking for an upscale bachelorette weekend venue. That should get her access to all the ballrooms and conference rooms.

The pretty blonde behind the reception desk smiled at her warmly. “Welcome to Decadence. I hope you enjoy your stay here.”

“Thank you.” She smiled. “I’m sure I will.”

From beside her, Tristan stared. “Is that a Synthia Michaels smile? I’ve heard tell of such a thing, but you know I’ve never experienced it for myself, you see.”

“I smile. Just not at you.”

He just laughed.

The blonde handed over her keys. “There are two keys in here for you and Mr. Dawson. If either of you should lose these, just come back to the front desk and we’ll replace them free of charge. Since your room is one of the penthouse suites, you’ll take the private elevator, located...”

Synthia blinked. “Wait a minute, did you say the keys for me and Mr. Dawson?”

The blonde nodded.

She shook her head vehemently. “Oh no, there must be some mistake.”

On this, she and Tristan were united. He dropped his voice low and leaned forward. The poor girl behind the counter didn’t have a chance. Synthia knew how hard it was to concentrate with those electric-blue eyes pinned on you. “Now, what did you say your name was again?”

The woman licked her lips. “It’s, um, it’s Lisa.”

He turned the charm up a notch. “Pretty name. Listen, I think there’s been a mistake, Lisa.” The way he said her name sounded husky and seductive and the poor girl flushed bright red.

Synthia barely managed to refrain from hitting him. After all, her future rested on his ability to flirt their way into two rooms.

Lisa gave a nervous smile. “I’m sorry, but you’re booked in the south-facing penthouse suite. It’s got a great view of the Strip.”

He frowned and leaned in even more as if they were conspirators and he didn’t want anyone hearing their conversation. “I think we’re supposed to have separate suites.”

Lisa shook her head, wavy locks swinging over the shoulders of her jacket “I’m sorry. I wish I could move you, but it’s opening weekend. We don’t have anything else available.”

Not happening. Synthia needed space from Tristan, not more alone time. Alone time was trouble. He’d already gotten a glimpse of her emotions when he looked into her eyes as he’d helped her with the suitcase. He’d known then. No doubt he’d use it to his advantage.

The idea was to throw him off his game. Not the other way around. This was her chance to shine with her work.

She snatched the key off the counter with a smile. “Thank you for your help, Lisa.” She strode away as quickly as her heels would carry her. Maybe Tristan would get another room. Maybe he’d find some rich heiress to shack up with. All she knew was she was taking the best bed and the bathroom.

It turned out she wasn’t that lucky, because he followed closely on her heels. “Going somewhere, roomie?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Tristan. I thought you were headed for the fun. Some of us have to work.”

He slid into the elevator and swiped his key over the magnetic pad before pushing the sole button.

They both kept to their corners as they were carried up to their room. When the car dinged again, and the doors opened, Synthia froze. As the doors slid open, a gold and marble foyer presented itself. “Holy hell,” she whispered. Sure, she’d stayed at luxury hotels before, but the detailing was exquisite and there was a solitary sculpture located in the middle of the room that just screamed priceless.

Tristan whistled low. “Looks like Bliss wasn’t kidding about the VIP treatment.”

“I understand why it’s one suite now,” she muttered. The rest of the suite was decked with contemporary furnishings and modern art on the walls. The living room was the size of her whole apartment. Even the kitchen was extravagant. They had the latest appliances and the same marble from the foyer flowed into the kitchen detailing too.

On the far side of the living room, there was a large balcony with a pool view. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

At first he didn’t say anything, but she could feel him staring, so she met his gaze. He seemed puzzled.

“What?” She frowned.

He quickly shook his head. “Nothing. I’d never seen that look on your face before until today.”

“What look?”

“Wonder. It’s pretty stunning.”

With that simple statement, Synthia knew she was in more trouble than she’d bargained for.


Chapter 4 (#ulink_3fea5081-077d-5c54-a5d9-24c1e7541f3b)

Synthia adjusted the cap sleeves of the black dress and studied herself in the mirror again. Not bad. She’d styled her hair down, adding big voluminous curls. It gave her a sultry look. Her earrings were understated diamond studs and she wore a simple diamond solitaire. As for the dress, it had a conservative scoop neckline but was also completely backless.

Once she and Tristan had settled in, she’d buckled into work while he went to check out the pool. She’d requested one of the staff to show her some of the other rooms and she’d managed to get some pictures. She’d also done a rate analysis of Decadence room packages. Now the two of them were due at the hotel’s swanky lounge.

But despite several attempts, she couldn’t open the door of her room and face him. It’s not like it’s a date. Be brave, Syn. He’s just a man. She could handle him. Just as Olivia said. But when she opened the door to the suite, Tristan was nowhere to be seen. The light in his bedroom was on, so she could only assume he’d come back at some point while she was working. Question was, was he still there, or had he already left? Without her? As quickly as the sting of rejection flared, she shut it down. It wasn’t as if they were here on some romantic getaway. She was here to work. She certainly couldn’t expect him to wait for her.

The balcony door was open and she couldn’t help a peek at the Strip. She’d secretly always been fascinated by this city even though she’d never been here. For all its garishness and debauchery, there was still something glamorous and exciting. It made her blood hum.

“Hot damn.” The muttered curse had her whirling around. Tristan, decked in an impeccable tuxedo, stood staring at her.

“What’s the matter?”

When he still didn’t say anything, she shifted uncomfortably. Maybe she should have brought something nicer. That was the problem with doing these types of events, finding something that didn’t label her as the impostor she was. But she hadn’t really owned anything ritzier for this party.

Tristan opened his mouth, shut it and then tried again. “N-nothing. You look...er...nice. You look nice.”

Syn studied him. He seemed sincere. But then you never did know with Tristan. He was too slick. Too practiced at the art of charm. And he looked too good in that tux. She tried to remind herself of what Olivia had said. Use some of his skills against him. Be charming, be nice to him. When it came to Tristan, she was far more practiced at sarcasm, but she would try nice for a change. “Thank you. You clean up pretty nice yourself.” He’d shaved and for the first time since she’d met him, his jaw was smooth. Her fingertips itched to touch his handsome face, but she wisely kept her hands to herself.

He did a little twirl and grinned. “This old thing?”

She couldn’t help laughing. When she did, he stopped and stared at her again, his gaze intense. “You should laugh more often.”

Well, what exactly was she supposed to say to that? “Well, I laugh when I find something funny. And right now your catwalk chic coupled with your Blue Steel expression is pretty funny.”

His voice pitched lower. “So, what do you say, Syn? Want to go to a party?”

* * *

Tristan knew how to handle women. He’d been doing it all his life, but when it came to Syn, he immediately morphed into a gawky teenager with bumbling hands and fumbled words. But tonight was especially bad.

That backless number by far was the sexiest dress at the party. Oh, sure, some voluptuous women were showing more skin or their attire was so elaborate that her dress seemed simple in comparison, but when she turned around, everybody stared. The fabric skimmed low and stopped just at the top of the curve of her gorgeous ass, tantalizing him to touch it.

Her back was strong, as evident by the sleek muscle on display, but she was also soft. Half the night he wanted to reach out and skim her spine with his finger. Would she shiver? Would her pupils dilate as they had done on the plane? Would she part her lips for him?

Earth to Tristan. Get a grip.

Silently he searched the crowd further and found her on the balcony, a glass of champagne in her hand. Every time he looked up and found her, she was alone. When he’d seen her standing in their suite with the moonlight bringing out the highlights in her hair, she’d looked like an angel. A sexy angel sent to drive him insane.


Chapter 5 (#ulink_0068d353-3746-5070-96a2-02bc03787bcf)

Every woman in the world knew when a man was watching her. And right now Synthia could feel Tristan’s burning gaze on her back. Well, let him stare. If it meant he was distracted from work, then better for her.

A waiter moved by with a full tray of champagne, and she took one. She was working, but the whole point of the party was to have some fun. Or at least do a reasonable facsimile. In the meantime, she’d already cataloged what they were serving, the brand of champagne they offered and who they were using for the DJ and dancers. She could tally costs later for her presentation.

“A beautiful woman, all alone with a view like this, is a travesty.”

The voice behind her was smooth and mellow and she turned with a smile and studied her new companion. No doubt, he was handsome. Whereas Tristan’s hair was dark, this guy was blond. He had the same lean, rangy build, but Tristan was taller. And this guy’s eyes were dark like warm chocolate.

But he’s not Tristan. Yeah, that was for sure.

“Um, thanks but I’m good.”

His smile made him even more handsome. He made a pretty picture and he knew it. “Oh, come on, I don’t bite, and I think you’re stunning. I’d like to get to know you a lot better.” He slid another step into her personal space and Syn resisted the urge to back up. Clearly he was gorgeous, but she just wasn’t interested. She already had one too-pretty-for-his-own-good man who haunted her dreams; she didn’t need another.

“Oh, you’re good. But just how many women have you used that line on tonight?”

He grinned. “Well, so far just you, but I’m hoping to have a high success rate with it.”

Syn laughed and cocked her head. “Oh boy, that’s a lot of pressure on a girl. I don’t want to mess with your average.”

“Then don’t disappoint me,” he said with a tilted head and a grin. “Let me buy you a drink.”

She held up her glass. “Already got one.”

“Fair enough, then let me buy you diamonds, emeralds, whatever you want. Anything so I can spend some time with you.”

She shifted her hip. “You think I can easily be bought, do you?”

His gaze slid lazily over her body. “Not easily, but I’m willing to try.”

She laughed. “As appealing as that sounds, no, thank you.”

He clutched a hand over his chest. “You’re breaking my heart. I haven’t even tried my best lines yet.”

“You’re better off trying them on someone else. There’s a brunette by the door and she’s been eyeing you for the last ten minutes.”

He sidled up to her. “But she’s not you, is she?”

Suddenly a shadow loomed over her. She didn’t need to turn around to know that it was Tristan. Her body set off the internal alarm it always did every time he was close. He slung an arm over her shoulder and kissed her on the cheek. Her body seized from the shock and the hot spear of need.

“Sorry, I got distracted, darling. I hope the champagne’s okay. I can get you something else if you want.”

Unable to move her limbs, she forced herself to inhale deep. The hint of musk and ocean breezes swirled around her. When her brain finally came online again, she turned to stare at his arm pointedly, then back at his face. Either she was too subtle or he deliberately ignored her reproachful glare.

Tristan turned to her companion. “Who’s your friend, Syn?”

The guy put up both his hands. “No harm intended. Just having a conversation.” He beat a hasty retreat.

Because she wasn’t interested, she let him scamper away, but the moment he was out of earshot, she stepped out of Tristan’s hold. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Here’s a hint, sweetheart. Where I’m from, when someone rescues you, it’s customary to say thank you.”

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “Who said I needed your help?”

“Oh, come on. It was clear you weren’t into him. The only person who didn’t know that was him.”

It would be a snowy day on Venus before she thanked him. “For your information, I can take care of myself, Ricky.”

He frowned. “Ricky? I’m Tristan, remember?” he said cheekily.

“Ricky Schroder. I didn’t need you to ride in on your little train. This isn’t an episode of Silver Spoons.”

He shook his head. “You know what? Next time, I’m going to leave you to fend for yourself.”

She placed her glass on the cement ledge before she gave in to the urge to throw it in his face. “I’d appreciate that. That guy was probably taking his lessons from watching you hit on woman after woman all night.”

Tristan grinned and she cursed the butterflies. Her body warmed and heat pooled in her core. “If that were me, I would have recognized a lost cause.”

A lost— She spoke through clenched teeth. “Oh, so I don’t fall for your phony charm, and I’m the problem? I’ve had enough for the night. Dealing with morons has a way of exhausting me.”

She had made it only about a hundred feet before a strong hand wrapped around her upper arm. “Where are you going? Not that I care about your presentation, but I know you. You’ll find a way to blame me because you didn’t get all the information you needed.”

Syn dragged her arm back. “You worry about your own presentation. Unlike you, I don’t lose.”

If she thought she was going to manage to escape him in the elevator, she should have thought twice.

Using his key fob, he hit the button for their floor before rounding on her. “What is your problem with me anyway? From the moment I started at Stellar Reach you’ve been riding me.”

Oh, hell. She would not think about riding him. She would not think about riding him. She would not— Oh, there it was, an image in her mind of them on the floor, naked and writhing, with her riding him to orgasm.

She pointed a finger in his chest. “I take offense to how you do things. You think with a pretty smile you can get whatever you want.” She jabbed him. “I worked my butt off on the Boyd campaign and you just strolled in with your connections and your smile and pushed me off my own project, and that wasn’t the first time. And I wouldn’t even have had a problem if I’d seen you put in any actual work on that. Instead you relied on your ability to pal around to get that client.”

He leaned into her jabbing finger and bracketed his arms against the elevator wall on either side of her head. “You’re still pissed about that? You really need to let things go. It’s not like you haven’t stolen clients from me before. Does the Travers account mean anything to you?”

She narrowed her eyes at him and poked him again. “It’s not called stealing if you actually do all the groundwork and the client chooses you.”

“That was my first time I had a shot as a lead and you swooped in with your charts and your graphs. You are such a pain in the—” He muttered something unintelligible through ground teeth.

“Likewise.” With the both of them squaring off and breathing hard, with only a scant two inches between their bodies, Syn knew definitively how this weekend would end. With only one of them still standing.

“You are infuriating and obstinate,” Tristan muttered.

The hell she was. She poked him again. “You’re a pompous jackass, so I guess—”

He shut her up with a hot, searing kiss. She should have seen it coming, but irritation blinded her.

His strong arms wrapped around her, and his scent wove a hypnotic spell, seducing her, making it impossible to think.

His tongue slipped between her lips and she moaned. He tasted so good. Oh. My. When her brain started to process, her first thought was Holy moly, Tristan Dawson, sex god to the world, is kissing me. The next, as he expertly slid his tongue over hers: Oh, hell. He could give lessons.

Tristan backed her up against the wall as he growled low in his throat. Hands on either side of her head, he nipped at her bottom lip. Syn hesitated for only a second before her arms looped around his neck into his hair. When she twined her fingers into the silken locks, he groaned and deepened the kiss.

Her body was a bundle of raw nerves and he knew just how to stroke every, single, one. It was as if each rational, thinking brain cell she had stood by on the sidelines gawking as her body and its need took over the helm.

He braced her against the wall and urged her legs around his waist. They both moaned as that brought her heated core in contact with his pulsing erection.

For once, Syn took a vacation from her overanalytical brain. She took a vacation from good sense. All she wanted to do was feel. To be desired and for once to throw caution to the wind. For once just take the pleasure that was offered without thinking it to death a million times.

For that elevator ride, she went on a ride with Tristan Dawson. Not only did he devour her lips; he treated her mouth like a delicacy, tasted and tempted and teased her tongue into playing. She wanted this. Wanted him.

As he licked into her mouth with his hot tongue, he slid a hand up her stomach and ribs. He paused just short of touching her breast and Syn whimpered and arched into him.

She would have sworn she heard a chuckle. But her tongue was otherwise engaged, so a tongue-lashing would have to wait until later. He fumbled for something to the left, and the elevator came to an abrupt halt.

He skimmed his thumb over her breast, and a spike of desire rolled through her, causing her to undulate her hips. With a muffled moan, Tristan scooped a hand over her ass and held her tighter to him, pressing his erection into her.

His tongue slid over hers and he sucked her tongue into his mouth, making her want him, making her need him, making her wet.

Tristan tore his lips from hers and dragged in ragged breaths. Syn forced her eyes open and met his blistering gaze. When he spoke, his voice was low. Gravelly. “Now’s a good time to stop me if you don’t want to do this.”

What? It took three tries to process the words that came out of his mouth.

“I— What?”

“Do you want this? Do you want me?”

She fought her heavy lids. The word no didn’t even enter into her mind. “Yes.”

A long exhale tore from his chest and he muttered something that sounded like “Thank God.”

* * *

Tristan loved everything about the way she tasted. Spicy, with just a hint of sweet. He’d been slowly losing his mind as he watched that guy hit on her. He wanted to be the one she laughed with. And now she was in his arms and she wanted him.

He looped her hands over her head and clamped them in place with one hand. With his other hand, he hitched up her dress, slowly and deliberately.

Her lips parted on a sigh and she relaxed her thighs, slightly opening her legs for him. His cock throbbed.

A tremor ran through her body and he kissed her softly, still sliding his hand up her dress. At the juncture of her thighs, Tristan dragged the back of his knuckles over her panties and she pulled in a shuddering breath. “You’re so responsive. I bet you’re soft as butter too, aren’t you?”

She mumbled something unintelligible and Tristan swallowed hard. His hand shook as his fingers traced the edge of her panty line. He watched her face intently for a hint of hesitation, but there was none. Only the same longing need that drove him.

He slid his finger just under the fabric and she dug her nails into the flesh of his hand. Her legs widened and he held his breath. So damn wet. So hot.

His found her slick entrance and slid the tip of his finger inside her. Syn tossed her head back and bit her lip. God, he might come just from watching her, she was so beautiful. As he slid in farther, he bit back a curse. “You’re so tight.”

“Tristan, please.”

He kissed her again, sliding his finger in deeper as he did. While he sucked on her tongue in time to his questing finger, he slid his thumb over her clit.

She bucked and tore her lips from his. “Oh, oh, oh.”

With another gentle stroke of his thumb, she flew apart in his arms, whispering his name.


Chapter 6 (#ulink_0b7d9f8f-1ed0-5456-88df-4d8e829b1982)

Shudders racked Syn’s body. Tristan Dawson had just made her come. And she wanted more. Needed more. She slid her tongue over his and rolled her hips into his hand.

He released her hands and shrugged off his jacket before digging out his wallet. Reaching for him, with frantic, trembling fingers, Syn slipped his belt from its loop and he growled low.

She watched him intently as she slid her hand inside his trousers. When she closed her palm around the scorching hot length of him, he dropped his forehead to hers and cursed. She let her hand slide to the tip and smoothed the drop of precome over the head of his erection. She squeezed him gently as she slid her hand to the root and he swayed into her, his hips bucking slightly.

“Wow, Syn...” His voice trailed and his breathing was heavy and labored. “Do you have any idea how close I am to losing it?”

Oh boy. She could do this to him? The feminine power went to her head and she slid her palm over him again. This was why Tristan Dawson was so dangerous. His ability to make a woman believe she was sexy and powerful and a goddess.

He snagged a hand around her wrist. Her gaze snapped to his. He pierced her soul with the naked lust and need and...longing she saw there.

Tristan kissed her again, and her insides turned to liquid. He slid her hand from his flesh and quickly shrugged out of his pants. He yanked a condom out of his wallet and sheathed himself with a quick efficiency that she marveled at.

When he turned his attention back to her, she quivered. To be the object of that kind of focus was overwhelming. He slid his hands under her dress again, his gaze on hers as he took hold of the silk, then ripped.

Syn sucked in a sharp breath as the fabric ripped off her skin. Tristan kissed up her body. When he reached her lips, his thumbs stroked over her cheeks as he kissed her. A move so tender in contrast with the way he’d devoured her mouth like a starving man.

Tristan lifted her again and Syn willingly wrapped her legs around him. Syn arched her back and he leaned forward, nuzzling one breast, before suckling the tip. He palmed the other and tested the weight while teasing the nipple.

Syn arched into his palm, spreading her legs wider to make room for him between her thighs. Gently he teased her nipple, sending a spear of need through her core. “Tristan.”

He positioned himself at her slick center. “Look at me,” he whispered.

Syn disobeyed and let her eyelids flutter closed.

He chuckled and rolled his thumb over her nipple. The moment she arched her back, looking for more, he ceased the action. “I said, look at me.”

She dragged her eyes open. “Stop teasing me.”

His lips tipped into a smile. “I want to see your eyes when I sink into you.”

Inch by inch he slid into her, both of them holding their breaths. Syn grasped on to his shoulders, digging into his flesh for support, while Tristan slid his hands under her ass, cupping her as he sank deep into her.

It was all too much. All too intimate. She tried to look away. But with every shift, he met her gaze. There was no hiding the intimacy between them. No running from it. No hiding from the vulnerability.

The thick length of him rocked inside her, then retreated slowly. The tension coiled deep inside her as she slid her hands into his hair. As he nuzzled into her neck, she tugged on his hair slightly and he hissed, “Harder.”

He complied and his big body shuddered. He nipped at her jaw, then her collarbone.

He stroked deeper, each deep thrust hitting both her clit and that hidden spot deep inside.

“Oh my goodness,” she whispered.

“God, you’re beautiful...so long...wanted you.”

With whispered sex words muttered in the darkness, the shiver of bliss came on strong, snaking rapidly down her spine. The spasming racking her whole body and ending in her toes. But it wasn’t until he lifted his head and kissed her deep and slid a hand between them to stroke the bundle of nerves between her folds that she flew apart, unable to hold on to her illusion of control any longer.

“You’re so sexy when you come.” With another deep stroke, Tristan groaned into her neck, his whole body shuddering.


Chapter 7 (#ulink_f105cc7d-f13a-5ecf-a524-3a6eb773d47b)

Syn woke surrounded by warmth. As she snuggled deeper into the covers, she smiled contentedly. Wow, she hadn’t slept that well in...well, hell, she couldn’t remember ever sleeping that well. Raising her hands above her head, she stretched, relieving aching muscles from the tips of her fingers to the tippy top of her manicured toes. As she wiggled back in toward her heat source, she let her eyes drift shut again and as usual her brain took her to her favorite fantasy. Tristan.

The scruff of his jaw tickling her inner thighs as he lapped at her slick folds, giving her orgasm after orgasm, unrelenting even when she begged off. Tristan, gently placing her hands on the headboard, then bracketing her hips in his big, strong hands as he took her from behind. Tristan, begging her to say his name, insisting she admit to who was inside, taking her to the blissful edge time after time.

Tristan, who kissed her and told her she was beautiful and stared at her in awe as she came. Tristan, who worshipped her breasts and her ass. Tristan. Tristan. Tristan.

Except, this dream was different. As she played her fantasies over and over in her mind as it was her favorite in-desperate-need-of therapy pastime, her core tightened. That wasn’t unusual, but the mild soreness was. But she wasn’t sore in a bad way. More as though she’d had sex so good you want to slap your ex. As though she’d had sex so good it required an encore. As though she’d had sex so good she needed to give Tristan Dawson a freaking medal.

Her eyes sprang open. Carefully she peeked out of the corner of her eyes. Sure enough, Tristan lay beside her in all his gorgeous glory, looking devastatingly sexy and at the same time somehow vulnerable while he slept.

Shiiiiiite. Her whole body seized as the memories flooded her brain. She’d slept with Tristan. More like that they’d screwed each other senseless and promptly passed out. She was officially that girl. The girl who couldn’t control her freaking hormones. The girl she’d made fun of. She’d been Dawsoned.

She’d slept with the enemy. Not only slept with him; she’d lost count of the number of orgasms he’d given her. But what she hadn’t lost track of was the way he looked at her every time he slid into her. As if he was in awe and she felt like Christmas morning. And she’d seen that look at least five times during the night. The man was a sex god. She really had to find out what kind of vitamins he took.

And damned if he didn’t believe in ladies first...and ladies second...sometimes even ladies third before he came. After each time when she passed out, they’d slept for about an hour, and then he’d woken her up again for more of his expert tongue and hands. Each time she’d gone willingly and given as good as she’d gotten. The floodgates of sexual tension were now released.

Okay, calm down, Syn. First order of business, wake that sexy man up for round five. No! She was not going to have sex with him...again. Her libido was not running the show. Yes, I am. She ignored the roaring diva inside and forced her brain out of autopilot, revving the engine. The real first order of business was to get the hell out of bed. She’d be able to think better when his warmth didn’t envelop her like a cocoon. Second order of business, find her dress.

She risked another glance at him before she quietly slid to the edge of the bed. In the darkness of the room, she used her foot to search for it. He’d tossed it on the floor somewhere here, right? Their first time had been so hurried in the elevator. Still inside her, he’d carried her into his bedroom before cleaning them both up. He’d tossed her dress somewhere on the floor during round two. She’d been so shell-shocked and lust-crazed she hadn’t paid attention to where he’d dropped it.

Behind her, Tristan shifted in the bed, and she froze. First rule of one-night stand with a sex god: don’t stick around for the awful morning after with said sex god. Second rule of one-night stand with a sex god: don’t have the sex god be Tristan Dawson. Third rule of one-night stand with a sex god...do it again and burn the memories into your brain. Syn bit back a moan. Stupid move, Michaels. If she thought he was impossible before, there would be no getting that smug look off his face now.

Where the hell was her dress? Screw it, you can buy another one.

Right now, in the darkness of Tristan’s room with her heart hammering, and her lady parts begging for more of what Tristan had to offer, the best course of action was to cut and run. Staying here was too dangerous. But without her dress, that meant walking out of his room butt naked. There would be no sexy movie scene where she slid out of bed with a sheet covering her lady parts. This was real life and if she grabbed a sheet, that would certainly wake him.

Come on, once more with feeling. Get up and get gone. Once in the comfort of her room, she could figure out how to get the ground to open and swallow her whole. One thing was for certain, she’d have to check in to another hotel and do the rest of her observations as a third party. It was the only way.

As she stood, a voice from behind her said, “Running away, Michaels?”

She squeaked and whirled around. Damn him for looking so hot. Yes, she was running away, but she wasn’t going to let him know that. “No. Going back to my room. We have an early morning, so I need to get some sleep. I can’t do that here.”

He reached over and turned on the light on the nightstand. Synthia dived for the sheets, but only managed to grab enough to cover her breasts to about the top of her thighs. Well, hell. But at least if they were going to have this conversation, he couldn’t ogle her boobs. Too bad her butt was flapping in the wind.

Tristan reached for her and Synthia backed up a step. Unfortunately it also shifted the sheet, so she nearly flashed him her vajayjay. No matter that he had already seen her goods up close and personal. In her version of the awkward morning after, she’d be clad in designer chic with perfect makeup and styled hair. Instead, her hair was a tangled sweaty rat’s nest, and her makeup was likely smeared all over her face and she was bare-assed naked, trying to make a clean escape. So not perfect. She cleared her throat. “I’m going back to my room, Tristan.”

He frowned and shoved himself into a sitting position. “Why?”

“Because, I need sleep and you, we, um—last night. I—” Okay, so maybe next time she opened her mouth, she’d use actual words. Intelligent words. Rational words. But right now the more she searched, the more she came up empty, or naked, as it would seem.

Even in the muted morning light, his gaze pierced her straight to the soul. “The way I figure it, you can run back to your room and you can pretend that last night in the elevator, and in the doorway, and in this bed, and the middle of the night when I woke you up to finally see how you taste, or an hour ago when I slid into you from behind, holding those perfect boobs of yours, didn’t happen. Or you can come back to bed and we can call some kind of truce.”

A truce. He wanted a truce with her? “Look, I don’t ever do...” Her voice trailed off and she gestured vaguely with her hand. “That. I’m cautious and I don’t sleep around.”





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