Dare to Resist

by Carly Phillips

  DARE TO RESIST

  Dare Nation Novel #1

  NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR

  Carly Phillips

  Copyright © Karen Drogin, CP Publishing 2020

  Kobo Edition

  Cover Photo: Wander Aguiar

  Cover Design: Maria @SteamyDesigns

  * * *

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DARE TO RESIST

  He’s about find a baby on his doorstep … and his assistant in his bed.

  Austin Prescott is a lot of things. Ex football player. Sports agent. And as of this morning? Father. Finding a baby on his doorstep should have been a joke but the pink sticky note and baby carrier she came in is deadly serious.

  What’s an out of his depth bachelor to do? Call his tempting and beyond gorgeous executive assistant and beg her to move in.

  Quinnlyn Stone agrees to help Austin until he can straighten out his messy life. It’s just another item on her very long To-Do list. It’s absolutely not because she’s attracted to her very single and extremely handsome boss.

  Close quarters. A baby. Undeniable chemistry. What could possibly go wrong?

  A complete standalone novel!

  Prologue

  Austin Prescott sat in the offices of Dare Nation, the newly minted sports agency he’d opened with Paul Dare, a man he’d grown up considering like a father to him. Instead he and his siblings had recently discovered that Uncle Paul was their biological dad courtesy of sperm donation. Life was crazy. But then in the Dare world, it probably fell under the definition of normal. Family came in all shapes and sizes.

  And in Austin’s family, he was to be the kidney donor for Paul in two weeks, which meant his need to find an assistant was urgent. He tapped his foot impatiently, in no mood to deal with yet another interview. He’d spoken to enough women in the last week to make his head spin, and he still hadn’t found the right fit.

  He needed someone who could keep up with negotiations and someone who could sit at the fanciest restaurants with players and their wives who thought their shit didn’t stink, all while being smarter than anyone else in the room. Except for him, of course. And someone who could handle the office while he was out on medical leave.

  So far he’d interviewed Ivy League graduates with attitude and average students with MBAs who just wanted an in to meet and fuck a sports star. And Austin had plenty of experience with the latter. Hell, since his Division One NCAA days followed by his NFL career, he could bed any female he wanted, but he had to admit, easy lays were getting old. He wasn’t ready to settle down, but his days of picking up women every weekend were becoming fewer and farther between. Not that he was a monk, far from it. A man had needs.

  He lifted his phone to let Bri, his publicist sister who’d been helping him out until he could find an assistant, know that he wanted to cancel whoever was left for the day and start over tomorrow when a knock sounded on his office door.

  “Come in!” he called out, wondering why his sibling felt the need to knock.

  “Mr. Prescott?” an unfamiliar feminine voice that went straight to his cock asked as she stepped inside and blew his mind. “The woman at the desk outside said I should just knock.”

  A gorgeous vision in a slim black skirt and a white blouse that should have looked like a uniform but instead had him wanting to bend her over his desk stepped into the room.

  His gaze slid down to black pumps with enough of a heel to elongate those sexy tanned legs. Legs he wouldn’t mind having wrapped around his waist as he fucked her senseless. Because from the tips of her toes to the top of her shoulder-length raven-colored hair, she epitomized class and perfection personified. The red lipstick merely added to her appeal.

  “Mr. Prescott?” she asked, causing him to realize he’d been staring.

  “Yes. I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting another applicant this afternoon. Ms.…”

  “Quinnlyn Stone but everyone calls me Quinn.”

  He rose to his feet, hoping she didn’t notice the tent in his pants. “Nice to meet you, Quinn.” He extended his hand as she stepped forward. No sooner had she slid her cool palm against his than a jolt of unexpected electricity sparked between them.

  Shit. This was bad. Very, very bad. He could not desire a woman who might work for him.

  “Have a seat,” he said in a gruff voice, gesturing to the dual chairs across from his desk.

  “Thank you.” She walked over and lowered herself into one, sliding her legs to one side.

  Like he thought, classy, unlike the many women who’d deliberately crossed and uncrossed their legs in an effort to draw his attention to their … assets.

  She reached into her bag and pulled out a sheet of paper. “My resume, in case you didn’t have a copy in front of you,” she said.

  “I appreciate you being prepared.” And since he hadn’t been paying attention to who his next candidate was and had hoped to cancel, he really did need the information. He accepted the resume and read through the page. “University of Miami undergrad and business school,” he said, impressed with her education. “So where are you from?” He met her emerald gaze, held captive by the depths of those green eyes.

  “Florida born and raised. I couldn’t go far from home. My family needed me,” she said somewhat cryptically.

  “I see.” It wasn’t his business to ask why, though he was intrigued.

  “I went on partial scholarship. As you can see, I graduated cum laude.”

  He’d noticed her honors degree. “And before this, you had a position with the Panthers,” he said of the minor league team where she’d been an assistant to an assistant.

  She rolled her shoulders. “It’s called the ladder to success for a reason. I had to start somewhere. I have my letters of recommendation here, too.” She leaned down to reach inside her purse again.

  “No need. I’ll look them over eventually. So you like sports?”

  She nodded. “I come from a big family on both sides. A lot of siblings, cousins, uncles, everyone’s a sports fan. I learned early.”

  He rolled a pen between his palms. “I hear you. My family was and is big on sports as well.”

  “You think? Two NFL players, an MLB star, a sports publicist sister … it’s impressive.”

  The first candidate who’d truly done her research. He was impressed right back. “So why do you want this job, Quinn? Better yet, what qualifies you over the other equally competent applicants I’ve seen today?” He hoped she’d stutter over her words or in some way give him a reason not to hire her so he could ask her out instead.

  A wry smile pulled at those sexy lips. “Well, let’s see. I’m organized, efficient, and I can corral a band of preschoolers, which means I’m certain I can handle arrogant athletes.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Stereotype much?”

  A pretty flush rose to her cheeks, but she didn’t duck her head or look away. “If the shoe fits…”

  He liked this sassy woman. “So you’re saying because I played football…”

  “And were a Heisman Trophy winner, Rookie of the Year, and three-time Super Bowl winner that you’re arrogant? Yes. Or else you wouldn’t be the man sitting behind that desk today.” She folded her hands in her lap and waited for his reply.

  Not only had she done her homework, she looked him in the eye and was unafraid to stand up to him. “You’re hired.”


  She blinked in surprise. “I’m sorry, what did you just say?”

  He rose to his full height. “I said, you’re hired. When can you start? Because I’m having major surgery in two weeks and I need someone to hold down the fort while I’m gone. Keep the clients calm and all that.”

  Those red lips he had plenty of uses for, in his imagination anyway, opened and closed twice before she composed herself and stood. “I can start whenever you need me. And thank you, Mr. Prescott.”

  “We’re going to be working closely together, so call me Austin.”

  “Thank you, Austin.”

  He inclined his head. “We’ll see if you’re still thanking me once you’ve dealt with many of the juveniles I call clients. Your assessment of arrogant wasn’t far off the mark.”

  She laughed, the sound one that would be a bright light in this office. Jesus, he was in trouble.

  He strode around the desk and came up beside her. “You can talk to Bri outside. She’ll take you down to our office manager, who will have you fill out paperwork and get you settled. Can you start the day after tomorrow? That’ll give us time to get you up to speed before I’m out for at least five weeks. Maybe six.” It sucked but his body needed to adapt to having one kidney. The doctors had warned him about exhaustion most of all.

  He glanced at her and she was still in shock. Since the salary and benefits had been laid out in the job description, he didn’t need to go over those details.

  Finally she nodded, her eyes wide, her expression brimming with excitement. “I’m looking forward to it. Thanks again.” She spun and headed out the door, leaving him behind in a floral haze of lust and need for a woman he wouldn’t be able to touch.

  As long as she worked for him, his motto would be hands off. Or hands on his cock, since he had a feeling he’d be jerking off to thoughts of Quinnlyn Stone at least once or twice before he got his inappropriate need for her out of his system.

  Austin glanced at his Rolex, one of the first gifts he’d bought for himself once he signed his original NFL contract, and counted down the minutes. It didn’t take long for Bri to let herself in without knocking.

  “I thought you were taking Quinn to meet with Lindsay,” he said of their office manager.

  “Already handled.” His sister was the fixer of the family, mediating arguments amongst the four Prescott male siblings and occasionally their father, Jesse, when he’d been alive, like a pro. Her becoming a sports publicist was a natural choice after dealing with her family for years.

  Bri plopped into the chair Quinn had been seated in earlier. “So that was a fast hire. What did you see in her that was different? Beyond the fact that she’s gorgeous and exactly your type?” Bri waggled her eyebrows. “Since I know you wouldn’t misbehave at work or hire her because you’re attracted to her.”

  “Wiseass,” he muttered. “Quinn has the balls to handle the job,” he said bluntly.

  “And handle you?”

  He grinned. “She called me an arrogant athlete and proceeded to back up her claim. I’d say she’s perfect for the job.”

  “Great! Now are you ready for surgery?” Bri leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk. “We all got tested to be Uncle Paul’s donor but you drew the lucky straw.” She shook her head. “Do we still call him Uncle Paul? It’s all so weird.”

  She bit down on her lower lip, a habit he remembered from childhood.

  “Yeah. We had a father.” Jesse Prescott, who’d died when Austin was twenty-one, had been a decent parent to Austin, the natural-born athlete, to Damon, also a football talent, and to Bri, the only girl.

  But to Jaxon, who’d preferred baseball to a contact sport, and to Bri’s twin, Braden, the brain of the bunch and now a doctor, Jesse Prescott had been a hard-ass and often mean. Which meant they were all processing the sperm donor biological father news in different ways. But there’d never been a question that if any of them were a perfect match, they’d donate a kidney to the man who had always been there for them in ways their father hadn’t.

  “I can handle a little surgery,” he assured her.

  “It’s not little, Austin.” Bri looked up at him with a worried expression.

  “It’ll be fine. Go check on Quinn. Make sure she has all her questions answered before she leaves for the day.”

  “Worried about her already?” Bri asked.

  He rolled his eyes. “Go!”

  Bri popped up from her seat and headed out. “I’ll be around for you if you get nervous or anything, you know?”

  He glanced at the sister he loved. “Yeah, Bri. I know.”

  * * *

  Quinn sat alone in a conference room as she filled out myriad forms, shocked she could focus on anything after being alone with Austin Prescott and all that testosterone. She’d thought she’d been ready to meet him. After all, she’d done her research, Googling him before she arrived for her interview. She hadn’t lied about her family’s interest in sports, but the bulk of her current knowledge came from digging around online about Dare Nation’s clients and Austin Prescott himself.

  But the online photos hadn’t prepared her for the man in person. He had chiseled features and tanned skin. Dark lashes framed unique indigo eyes. He had full lips she could imagine kissing and a strong, built body beneath his suit, making him the whole package.

  “Whew.” She waved a hand in front of her still-flushed face. Her entire body heated in an inappropriate response to her boss.

  She swallowed hard and filled in her social security number on the iPad with the forms the office manager had supplied, reminding herself this was her dream job. One she wouldn’t mess up because her boss was hot. She’d grown up being a pseudo-mom to her bucketload of siblings and cousins. If not for her scholarship, she’d have attended college and business school wholly on student loans because her parents couldn’t afford to send all of her siblings to school on their salaries.

  She had no intention of being a nanny, despite how well qualified she might be. She loved office work and she intended to make the most of this prime opportunity. She’d pay off her student loans and have an independent life she could be proud of.

  Besides, even if she’d met Austin under normal circumstances and had the same intense attraction, he wasn’t the right kind of guy for her. Austin Prescott was a player and not just on the field. In his NFL days, he’d been the consummate ladies’ man, never having a girlfriend, always seen with a different gorgeous woman on his arm. Actresses, models, perfect-looking females who fit his alpha-male image. Now that he was an agent to the stars, he was more discreet but no less discriminating in taste.

  Quinn wasn’t vain. She’d been told she was pretty, but she didn’t work at it the way Austin’s typical woman did. And she had no reason to be thinking about herself and Austin linked in any way at all except professional, she thought, and continued to fill out the employment forms.

  * * *

  Austin wasn’t shocked when Quinn arrived at the office at eight a.m. on her first day. He’d said nine. She obviously wanted to make sure she had time to settle in before he put her to work. So far so good. No complaints on his end except for how much he desired her, but he knew better than to act on it and make her uncomfortable.

  She obviously favored those slim skirts that showed off her ass and legs, and her silk tops wrapped perfectly around her curves. So, yeah, his head was on things other than work, but he had to get his shit together.

  He’d been talking to his sister about his upcoming surgery and time off, and returning to his office, he passed Quinn’s desk and paused. “Everything okay?” he asked her.

  She nodded. “I’m doing as you suggested, reading through client files and getting to know about them.”

  “I have lunch with my brother Damon at twelve thirty, more business than personal. Join us. You can meet your first arrogant athlete,” he said with a grin. “Other than me.”

  She shook her head and blushed. “You’re not going to let me live that
down, are you?”

  “Probably not.” He chuckled and headed into his office to go over a current contract that had already been vetted by the firm’s lawyer.

  An hour later, they were standing at a table with his youngest brother. “Quinn, this is Damon, my youngest brother. Damon, my new executive assistant, Quinn Stone.” Austin made the introductions.

  When Damon first looked at Quinn, his eyes opened wide with approval before he quickly schooled his features. Their mother would kick both their asses if they treated any woman with less than complete respect.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Quinn. How are you managing working for this guy?” Damon jerked his thumb toward Austin.

  “I just started but I’m enjoying myself so far.”

  Austin held out a chair and she settled into it.

  “So Austin tells me you play football,” she said. “And from what I’ve read, you’re a quarterback for the Miami Thunder?”

  “Best there is. But I’m in the last year of a three-year contract and I need it to go well. And I also need my agent to kick some managerial ass when the time comes and get me the contract I deserve.” Damon followed his words with an arrogant smirk.

  At the thought, Austin met Quinn’s gaze and grinned. “Does he fit the mold?”

  “To a T,” she said, laughing.

  He liked the sound.

  “Why do I feel like I’m the only one not in on the joke?” Damon asked, looking from Quinn back to Austin.

  “Quinn thinks she’s got us athletes pegged, and you just proved her right.”

  “Can I get you something to drink?” a waitress asked, leaning in very close to Austin. So close her breast brushed against his sport jacket.

  It was typical when they were out. Women picked one or the other brother to flirt with. Austin had seen her assessing them from behind a support beam, making her choice. Given the nine-year age difference between them, Austin at thirty-four, Damon at twenty-five, the woman had to have a type in order to choose. That and she looked a little older than the typical groupies who picked Damon.