Tempting the Enemy--A Sexy Billionaire Romance

by JC Harroway

  ‘She’s amazing,’ Sam says with genuine affection.

  I fight prickles of jealousy to level an encouraging smile on the older man. I want to keep him talking.

  ‘I’ve known her since she was a little girl.’ He chuckles. ‘She’d come in here with her grandfather in a kid’s-sized hard hat—all wide eyes and chatter.’

  Much like the talkative Sam.

  I stay quiet, deeming it the best strategy to learn more about my new adversary from a personal standpoint. I’ve already compiled a résumé from the information I gleaned during my internet searches. She has an MBA from New York University and she’s worked her way up through the ranks at Hamilton’s.

  ‘Of course, that all changed when her parents died. But she’s worked here at Hamilton’s ever since—after school, during college and then later full time.’

  The news about her parents takes me aback for a few seconds—I noticed a glimmer of sadness in her eyes. But I can’t allow any weakness around this woman—she’ll take full advantage, just as she’s already proved.

  Perhaps realising he’s said too much, Sam shuts up. But with what I know, it’s enough. By the time we make it back to Ava, I’m burning up with curiosity and reluctant compassion I have no idea where to place. She used me, made me feel a powerlessness I haven’t experienced in years. I don’t want to feel any positive emotion, beyond the lust I can’t seem to control, for a woman who played me so well and so relentlessly.

  She joins us outside Sam’s office. ‘Have you seen enough?’ Wariness wars with defiance in her eyes.

  ‘On the contrary,’ I say, lifting my chin in thanks to Sam, who beats a hasty retreat from the atmosphere surrounding Ava and me. ‘I propose a business lunch. I have some suggestions and many questions I want answered.’

  She shakes her head at my audacity.

  Better get used to that, darlin’. When you make a deal with the devil, you can’t complain if your fingers get burned.

  ‘I don’t eat lunch. And I too have questions. Like, where have you and your plans been for the past four months since I’ve taken over sole management? Why would I take guidance from you, a man who knows nothing about logistics? And why not sell to the prospective buyer right in front of you?’

  ‘That’s a lot of questions—let’s address them over lunch.’ Before she can reiterate that she doesn’t eat lunch I add, ‘You can watch me eat.’

  ‘I never realised you were an asshole when we met.’ She stares me down. ‘The media fail to mention that side of your character.’

  I smile, inching closer so she has to tilt her head back to keep her challenging eye contact.

  ‘And yet you wanted this asshole between your thighs. In fact, you want me still.’ It’s time for her to realise I hold all the power, professionally and perhaps personally, too. I know I get to her. I made her tremble in my arms. I can exact revenge over her body while I plot the demise of both her company and Brent’s.

  ‘You’re insane if you think that’s happening again. Not now I know what you’re really like...’

  Her challenge brings forth my easy grin. I allow my stare to linger on her lush mouth. Her breaths are shallow. Her lips part. Her pupils go wide with arousal.

  ‘We’ll see about that,’ I say, not above using our mutual attraction against her. I can punish her with sex for her crimes. Slake this desire for her until I’ve worked it out of my system, while we work together to offload her company. I can appease both my desire and my vengefulness.

  Oh, yes, there’ll be a reckoning. The only question is, her bed or mine?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Sterling

  OUTSIDE THE WAREHOUSE, I indicate she should follow me across the lot towards the Porsche. As I open the door for her, sparks of hostility and sexual heat surround us.

  ‘Of course you drive this...’ she mutters as she slips into the passenger seat.

  I grin as I close the door of my customised gunmetal-grey Porsche 911 Cabriolet. I round the back of the car and slide in beside her, my body on high alert at her closeness. Now I’ve had the idea to settle the score, I want her again as soon as possible. I’d bet my share of Bold that I could render her helpless as I did on Friday. She may hate my favourite car, but she can’t stop casting me longing looks.

  ‘Where’s good around here for lunch?’ I ask, my finger poised over the GPS display.

  She looks at me with scepticism, as if she can’t equate the man who makes her moan with the version who wants to sell her family’s business.

  ‘Heaps of places.’ She shrugs. ‘What do you want to eat?’

  ‘Surprise me.’ I drop my hand and she types in somewhere called Gianni’s a few blocks away on Havenmeyer Street.

  I cast her a look as I pull into traffic. ‘So what do you have against my Porsche? What has she ever done to you?’

  Ever since my first car, a 1984 Chevrolet El Camino, I’ve been hooked. I was sixteen when the trust from my father’s family purchased the vehicle. For me, it signified more than a set of wheels. For the first time I had some independence. I could get away from Marcus and the control he wielded over my life, over the house and at times even over my mother. I could leave and just drive. Clear my head and feel light-hearted. It didn’t matter where. Fortunately I had school friends who lived upstate whose parents often tolerated me for the weekend or holidays.

  Ava rolls her eyes. ‘It’s not this car in particular. I’m not particularly fond of sports cars, period. And I prefer to use the subway in the city.’ She shoots me a withering look, but I notice she can’t seem to stop looking my way any more than I can ignore and forget her. My day, my week, my plans for the merger would be a lot easier if I could clear her from my consciousness.

  ‘I see. In that case, I can’t wait to show you the rest of my collection and convert you.’ It’s juvenile. Petty and adversarial. But I can’t seem to move past my need for retribution. Starting with our chemistry. I’m going to enjoy every minute of her sensual punishment.

  A very satisfactory way to make her pay for her subterfuge...

  Ignoring my jibe, she clenches her hands in her lap and confronts me. ‘You had suggestions? About Hamilton’s.’

  I should keep this business-focused instead of planning ways I can drive her wild.

  Whether Hamilton’s implements any changes or not, the writing is on the wall. Acquiring Brent’s Express six months ago, having already owned equity in Hamilton’s, gave me the idea to improve and then offload my stepfather’s business. Now that Josh has enlisted Mom to emotionally blackmail back what he thinks should be his, the reminder that it’s time to part with them couldn’t be more timely. Soon Ava’s company will be incorporated into something bigger and better—Lombard Logistics. Yes, that has a nice ring to it. Let the business world, Josh and Marcus—from the grave—see that Sterling Lombard can turn a profit where Marcus Brent failed.

  I wave a dismissive hand. ‘Just ideas for streamlining some of your operations. I have people, strategic advisors, who do that sort of thing very well—I’ll send them in.’

  Ava’s eyes narrow. ‘I’d be a fool to dismiss any form of cost-cutting measures. But I’ll be the one to oversee any changes you plan on making. It’s my name on the letterhead. I don’t need you ploughing in after showing no interest in Hamilton’s for years and changing everything my family has built.’

  I concede with a tight grin, ‘It’s your name on the letterhead, for now. But you don’t seem to be grasping the fact that from here on, I’m calling the shots.’ I moisten my lips and watch with gratification as her stare follows the movement.

  My comments, and perhaps the fact that she’s still attracted to me, seem to once more ignite her ire, turning the bright blue of her astonishing eyes frosty. She glances out of the window, trying to bluff nonchalance.

  ‘You are so arrogant.’

  ‘P
erhaps, but I’m good where it counts. Ask my ex-wife.’ We stop at some lights and I take in her outraged reaction.

  Her eyes roll at my brag. ‘If you’re so perfect, what made you a shitty husband?’

  I bark out a humourless laugh. This woman is so good at pushing my buttons. ‘Well, that’s a whole other story... And this is a business lunch.’

  The reminder that I’m a divorcee triggers guilty memories of how I let Monroe down when she needed me most—when she was consumed with grief after her mother’s death. I tried to keep Marcus out of my head during our marriage, but as pressures increased, so did his voice of doom. Monroe played her part too, holding back from me emotionally at a time when we should have pulled together.

  I grit my teeth. I loved Monroe—and part of me always will. Except seeing her—like during my upcoming trip to London—will resurface my deep regrets that I wasn’t a good enough husband to weather any storm. It sickens me that on that score, Marcus was right about me and my marriage.

  I couldn’t control the series of events that led to my divorce, but I can control everything else in my life.

  Especially my business plans.

  Ava’s pupils dilate as her stare moves over my face. ‘Okay, but there’s more to business than making a profit,’ she says, drawing me back to the hot topic.

  I snort at her idealism. ‘Maybe for you. But, as you pointed out, Hamilton’s is small fry. For me the equity has become a means to an end.’

  She gasps in outrage. ‘Hamilton’s is a part of local history. We employ two, sometimes three generations of the same Brooklyn families. We’ve been part of the landscape for sixty years.’

  God, she’s gorgeous when she’s fired up. How I want to render her incoherent with arousal. To hear her beg for me and what I do to her. To know she may hate what I’m about when it comes to Hamilton’s, but she craves my touch all the same.

  I swallow, trying to keep my tone bored when all I want to do is drag that sultry mouth of hers to mine and kiss her senseless. ‘Very noble, but completely irrelevant.’

  Her lips press into a firm line. ‘How can you be so...pig-headed? And cold? And...ruthless?’

  Ignoring her insults, I take a left turn and slide into a parking space close to the restaurant. I kill the engine and lean close.

  ‘I wasn’t cold when you lost your mind in my bed. When you begged me to give you what you wanted.’ I hear the revealing catch in her breath and watch her eyes widen, thick lashes batting as she tries to assimilate my nearness.

  I want her begging for me once more, until she’s fully at my mercy. Then we’ll see how much she enjoys being manipulated.

  ‘That was just sex.’ Excitement darkens her eyes to almost navy.

  I enjoy the effect I’m having on her pulse, which is fluttering in her neck. ‘Well, any time you want to burn again, you know where to find me.’

  ‘I’d rather freeze.’ Her mouth says the words but I can feel the wall of heat generating between us across the centre console. If I’d pulled into a secluded alleyway instead of parking in a street, I know we’d be on each other in seconds—it’s written in her eyes.

  ‘Instinct tells me I’ll have my revenge over your body sooner than you think,’ I say. ‘But if you prefer denial for now, so be it.’ I watch her lips thin, remembering the taste of her and her wild, passionate responses.

  ‘And what if I have my revenge over your body? You still want me, too.’

  Her telling statement fills me with urgency, because she’s not moving away or leaving. ‘You’re right, I do. I have every intention of slaking this compulsion until it’s extinguished. Just let me know when you’re ready to stop fighting it, and we can both get it out of our systems.’

  Sheer hatred pours from her eyes, bathing me in renewed resolve. My physical weakness for her is manageable and the only weakness I’ll allow.

  We’ll have our retribution, Ava and I. And only one of us can rise to victory. I put my money where I always put it: on me.

  When, out of nowhere, she lunges for me, I’m momentarily blindsided. She grasps my neck and drags my mouth down to hers with an impatient mewl. I part my lips on a grunt, meeting her kiss with my own sensual assault, my tongue surging against hers, my hands cupping her face and my defiant stare locked with hers.

  Testosterone roars through my blood, deafening me to all else. The disappointment I felt when I opened my eyes, searching for the woman who’d breezed into my life like a breath of fresh air. The familiar feeling of failure I felt when I discovered her identity and how she clearly had an ulterior motive for being at the Bold office party. And the vicious, helpless craving I still felt when her office door opened and I wanted her, despite it all.

  But our desperate, angry kiss is short-lived. Ava pulls away first. She shoves at my chest so I release her, pressing her body into the door to get as far away as possible.

  ‘Surely you have enough money,’ she spits, returning to our argument, completely ignoring the fact she’s just kissed me as if her life depends upon it. ‘Why are you so intent on selling Hamilton’s for a huge profit when you have an invested buyer right in front of you?’

  Part of me of admires the hell out of her tenacity. She’d certainly get along like a house on fire with Monroe.

  ‘Don’t be naïve. Money is more than money—it’s power. You can’t ever have enough.’ I straighten my tie and try to wrangle my heart rate and my arousal pressing at the fly of my pants back under control. ‘It suits my purposes to offload Hamilton’s. I own a similar company. Together they’ll become an international contender.’

  This time, my cruel smile and her answering outrage brings me no pleasure, presumably because my wanting her physically has eclipsed every other desire I possess. ‘Besides, I’m not interested in being second best—didn’t you discover that from the business news articles?’

  Her ravaged mouth gapes. ‘No. I assumed you had a scrap of integrity, that, by helping companies to grow, you cared about the little people like my grandparents. But now I see I was mistaken. You seem to care only about cars and cash.’

  ‘And revenge. Don’t forget revenge. Right now that’s currently my most pressing priority.’ I process her scathing character assessment, torn between wanting her and wanting to live up to her poor opinions of me.

  ‘Well, I won’t be any part of that.’

  ‘Ah, but you will. As that kiss proves, you crave me, even as you spit fire and brimstone in my direction.’

  Her breath comes in choppy pants. ‘So? That doesn’t mean I’ll sleep with you again.’ She swipes her hand across her beautiful mouth as if she can erase the memory of my kiss.

  I smile, control returning like a comfort blanket. Everything is working out in my favour. I’ll have Hamilton’s, I’ll annihilate Brent’s and I’ll exact my sensual retribution over Ava, if the way she’s looking at me is confirmation.

  In her case, revenge is best sampled between the sheets.

  I lean close and lower my voice. ‘We’ll burn this explosive attraction out one way or another. Revenge sex isn’t a bad way to do it.’

  She shakes her head in disbelief. ‘No. You’re out to destroy everything my grandparents worked their entire lives for. I don’t trust you one bit.’

  My lip curls as renewed certainty fizzes in my veins. ‘Who said anything about trust? Trust is for weaklings. Trust blinds people and I don’t trust anyone, least of all a woman intent on manipulating me for her own ends.’

  She huffs, but her tongue swipes her lips in a nervous gesture. ‘Do your worst with my company if you must, but I won’t watch from your bedroom.’

  My coup de grace falls into the tense silence inside the vehicle. ‘Oh, you’ll be much closer than that. I know things about you, too. You know logistics. Your staff told me you learned the business from the cradle. You have the qualifications I need to advise me on
the merger of what will become Lombard Logistics.’

  Her blue eyes widen with dawning alarm. ‘What do you mean?’

  I drop my voice to an intimate whisper. ‘If, as you say, you’re keen to avoid sleeping with me again, you’ll have plenty of opportunity to display restraint—you’re going to be working for me.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  Ava

  THE BUCATINI DISH is sublime in its simplicity. I know the recipe is handed down from Gianni’s nonna. The pasta, coated with the richness of a red pepper and sundried tomato sauce, and topped off with crunchy seasoned breadcrumbs, reminds me of happier times as a little girl.

  Yet I can’t enjoy a single forkful.

  I’m still too turned on by the man across the table from me and too outraged by both my own body’s betrayal and his outlandish statement in the car.

  Work for him...? No way.

  I pick up my fork and stab the tines into the pasta, while I watch him eat as if he hasn’t a care in the world. How dare he be so composed after both the incendiary kiss we shared and after dropping such a ridiculous bombshell? The only reason I’m still here is that, now I understand his despicable intentions more clearly, I’m extra-desperate to procure those Hamilton’s shares back from the man and take him down a peg or two in the process.

  Nothing to do with how his suggestion of revenge sex has left you crazy horny and plotting ways to make him pay...?

  Oh, he’ll pay all right. I’ll be the one making him beg...

  I take a bite of pasta on autopilot, trying to detangle arousal from outrage.

  That my grandparents sold a stake in their company to him in order to help me out financially leaves me unsettled, almost tearful. If I’d known, would I have studied for so many years? I assumed they could afford the luxury, or that they’d dipped into the money left to me by the sale of my parents’ restaurant. Knowing they cared so much about my future and the future of Hamilton’s only strengthens my resolve that it both succeed and carry the family name.