by Candis Terry
Dedication
This one is for my readers. Thank you for opening my books and allowing my imaginary worlds into your lives.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Acknowledgments
Excerpt from A Better Man
Chapter 1
About the Author
By Candis Terry
Copyright
About the Publisher
Chapter 1
In Declan Kincade’s world the real problem with leisure time was finding the time for it.
At the window of his Newport Beach high-rise office, he watched the sunset glisten across the rolling ocean waves. Down on the beach, like a ritual changing of the guards, the sun worshipers packed up their towels, tanning lotion, and umbrellas to head home while the locals grabbed their boards for their moment in the sand and surf. Despite the June gloom of overcast skies, early summer was the perfect time of year for Southern Californians to play along the coastline before the hordes of vacationers swamped the beaches and local bars.
Not that Declan knew much about having fun these days. In fact, he hadn’t had a good time in . . . hell, he couldn’t remember. He’d spent nearly eight non-stop years working on his career, and building his financial investment and wealth management company in Southern California. Recently—as if he didn’t already have enough to do—he’d added the task of putting together the beginning stages of an additional Chicago-based office.
Not that he was complaining, but lately he had started to feel the wear and tear on his brain. At the age of thirty-three, it seemed like he had entered his golden years without all the significant life experiences. The recent tragic deaths of his parents had taught him that life was too damn short, and he realized he’d better start taking advantage before it was too late. But sometimes putting ideas into action didn’t come easy.
Hands in the pockets of his tailored slacks, he stepped closer to the window and settled back on the heels of his black oxfords. Rather than standing there looking down, he wished he could be strolling on the Newport Pier, breathing in the fresh salty air. He imagined the sound of the waves crashing against the pier’s massive pylons. He imagined stopping to watch the fishermen bring in their daily catch while the hovering gulls screeched for scraps. He imagined stopping at the local oyster bar for a cold brew and a quiet moment to watch the last of the bikini clad beauties shuffle back to their cars. Instead he would spend one more evening within his plain white office walls in a meeting scheduled to start in . . . He glanced down at the Citizen Signature watch clasped to his wrist . . . four minutes.
Imagining life was no longer enough. He’d reached a point where he needed more. Something . . . different. He needed to participate instead of being just an observer. The problem was, he’d forgotten how.
Those on the beach below his high-rise window probably had their own daily challenges, yet they’d found a way to merge fun and responsibility together to enjoy life to its fullest.
When had he stopped trying?
Things never came as easy for him as they did for his four brothers. Before he’d been diagnosed with dyslexia in the seventh grade, his school years had been difficult. Frustrating. He’d wished for things to be simpler, more fun. While Jordan, his fraternal twin, had breezed through his homework so he could run out to play with the others, Dec had sat at the kitchen table for hours struggling over each word, each number.
Back then he’d felt different, the odd man out, even if physically he was his brothers’ match or better. Maybe even back then he’d subconsciously pulled away from those he was closest to. Away from those he wanted to be more like. Those who didn’t have to work so hard just to be . . . normal.
Once the doctors had figured out what was wrong with him, they taught him a learning system that helped. He wasn’t God-given smart. He’d had to work at it to prove to himself and everyone else that the learning disability wouldn’t encumber him his entire life. Those challenges had made him the man he was today—successful on the page but lacking in matters of the heart.
When he was tired he still struggled, but at least he’d learned to plow his way through. All his life he’d worked hard, really hard, to fit in. Somehow he never did. As a substitute, work and career became his main focus.
His source of gratification.
His reward.
Early on he’d figured if he could become successful in the one thing that challenged him the most, he’d prove to himself and everyone else that he could compare with the rest. He just hadn’t realized, in doing so, how hard he’d pushed away all the other important things in life.
Behind him the office door opened.
“They’re here. Are you ready?”
The question willed him to turn instead of just giving a nod. Over the past four years he’d heard that husky female voice a million times. But lately the smooth whiskey tone took his imagination to forbidden places. Because now, Dec couldn’t help being mentally poked by his twin brother’s recent observation about his executive assistant.
She’s hot as hell.
It wasn’t that Declan had never noticed Brooke Hastings’s voluptuous hourglass shape, long legs, and deep brown eyes.
Of course he had.
His libido was in fine working condition.
It wasn’t that her bubbly personality hadn’t made him laugh at times he’d really wanted to pull his hair out. And it wasn’t that he didn’t have an appreciation for her high IQ or how she always seemed to save his professional ass when he really needed it. But Brooke was his executive assistant, the one person who kept his career on track. And even if his newly engaged brother insisted he chose pleasure over work, Dec knew mixing business with pleasure was a very bad idea.
And yet, somewhere along the way, Brooke had become much more than just an employee. She’d become an essential part of the reason he got up every morning and came to work. Over the past few weeks, when he hadn’t been looking, she’d escalated to being everything he’d ever wanted but could never have.
“Dec?” Brooke’s head tilted slightly. A waterfall of honey blond hair fell over the shoulder of her silky white blouse. “Are you okay?”
Hell no, he wasn’t okay.
Because right now, even though he knew it was wrong, he couldn’t help wondering how all her soft shiny hair would feel wrapped around his hands while he pulled her in and seduced her right out of that hip hugging skirt. He couldn’t help thinking about how warm and soft her body would feel to touch and hold all night. He couldn’t help thinking about how rewarding it would be to hear her laughter any damn time he wanted, or have her flash those dimples in his direction.
Like a bad habit, he had to stop those thoughts before they created a real problem. Brooke was too damn valuable in too many ways for him to allow his sudden need for something forbidden damage the amazing working relationship they’d built over the past four years.
“Dec? Are you ready to meet with the Flavios?” When she stepped inside his office he blinked to take his eyes off the luscious curves that made a simple button-down blouse look like something that should be removed.
Slowly.
One button at a time.
>
With his teeth.
Damn.
“Yeah.” He took a breath that did nothing to clear or stabilize his thoughts. “Bring them in.”
“Are you sure?” Her head tilted again in an are-you-positive-you-haven’t-gone-off-the-deep-end way. Which wasn’t the first time she’d regarded him that way recently.
“I’m good. Let’s do this.”
Before she disappeared to the lobby to escort their clients into his office, she flashed him a grin that showed off a perfect set of dimples. He’d seen those dimples five days a week for four damn years. So why did he suddenly have the urge to press his lips against them and then follow up with a slow slide of his tongue down her long, delicate neck?
He’d never thought of himself as a masochist before, but with all these wayward thoughts, he had to concede it was a strong possibility.
Less than a minute later Brooke escorted James and Josh Flavio into his office. The father and son duo were looking for investment advice on adding a beachside Caribbean-style restaurant to their growing food service empire.
“Gentlemen.” Declan extended his hand. “Welcome.”
With the perfunctory introductions out of the way, he gestured to the conference area. While the men chose their seats, Declan watched Brooke settle into the leather chair at the end of the granite table and cross her legs.
Her bare, tan, smooth, shapely legs.
The black high-heeled, ankle-strap sandals she wore bordered on dominatrix, and that intrigued the hell out of him. Not that he was into the whole Christian Grey red room thing, but he sure as hell wouldn’t mind seeing Brooke in a little black lace and leather.
When she opened the file folder she’d placed on the table, he noticed the slender length of her fingers and the pale pink polish on her nails. Last week she’d worn Tiffany blue polish. The week before that she’d worn bloodred. Just last night those colorful fingertips had starred in a dream from which he’d awoken hot, sweaty, and horny as hell.
A white-gold filigree band graced the ring finger on her right hand and a silver bracelet with a charm that said Fearless encircled her left wrist.
Their past working lunches revealed she preferred chicken salad over egg, her steaks medium rare, and Caesar salads over garden. He knew when she crossed her legs she swung her right foot in tune with the music in her head. And when she was intently focused she tapped the end of a pen against the soft cushion of her lips. He also knew that after the office closed at night and everyone else had gone home—except him—she’d often stay to finish her work barefoot.
What he didn’t know was what made her fearless as her bracelet proclaimed.
Extreme sports? Overcoming anxieties? Taking risks? Why didn’t he know? And why was he wondering about it now? Especially since he had plenty of other things to think about. Like the fact that he had clients sitting at his conference table waiting for him to morph into the financial magician they were paying him to be. Or that his parents had died barely three months ago and he and his brothers were struggling to keep the family vineyard afloat. Or that he was knee-deep in the plans for a new Chicago office.
Yet here he was. Instead of keeping his eye on the ball, he was eyeing his assistant like she was a five-star meal he couldn’t wait to devour.
Damn his twin.
This was all Jordan’s fault.
For four years Declan had kept his mind on business and his hands to himself. A task that seemed impossible now.
Aside from knowing he’d be lost without Brooke, he didn’t know the really important stuff about her. Like what she did in her spare time, where she’d been born, or what kind of upbringing she’d had. He didn’t know if she lived alone, had a roommate, or lived with a boyfriend. Hell, he didn’t even know if she had a boyfriend.
For four years he’d lived perfectly happy in his self-induced work cave and had kept everything on a strictly professional level. Now all he could think about was how much he’d like to caress Brooke’s shapely curves in a very non-businesslike manner.
“Would you like me to record the meeting?”
Caught daydreaming, Dec’s head snapped up. “What?”
Her lips tipped in a saucy smile. Okay, maybe it was just a regular smile. But for what he’d just been imagining, saucy fit the scenario.
“I asked if you’d like me to record the meeting.”
“Gentlemen?” He glanced at the two men at the table. “It’s your call.”
“Josh can take notes,” the father said.
“I’ll be happy to do that for you.” Brooke smiled. “That way you can focus on the discussion.”
“We’d appreciate that,” Mr. Flavio said.
“Then let’s get down to business, shall we?” At that moment, Dec made the mistake of looking at Brooke again. While she reached for her laptop, her breasts pushed together just above the buttons of her shirt. When the tip of her tongue slipped out and swept her bottom lip, he couldn’t give a shit about anything other than how badly he wanted a taste of her.
He knew how and when he’d started seeing Brooke in a new light, but he didn’t understand why he couldn’t control his thoughts or desire. Till now he’d been the epitome of control. It wasn’t like it had been eons since he’d had sex. And even if that were the case, it wasn’t like there weren’t other women he could call on to relieve the ache.
Obsession with anything other than making a name for himself had never been an issue. Until the idea of Brooke had been lodged in his brain. And frankly, he wasn’t too damn happy about this current preoccupation.
Only one thing in this muddled up mess was clear. As soon as he got back to the vineyard he was going to beat the shit out of his brother—one punch for each insane thought he’d planted in Dec’s head.
Something was bothering him.
While Brooke took notes during the meeting, Declan took care of business in the clever, professional manner he’d adopted before she’d ever walked into his office for a job interview.
On a normal day he was cool, confident, and a class act. Lately he seemed a bit distracted. Edgy. Even grumpy. He’d never grumbled at her before, yet in the past few weeks it had become his favorite form of communication. Not that he wasn’t handling the Flavios’ questions and concerns properly. And not that he wasn’t offering great financial advice. But there was something in the way his deep blue eyes kept flicking up to meet her gaze.
She’d worked with him long enough to know when something was off. When that particular something wrinkled his brow and created tension at the corners of his eyes. But never had the look been directed at her. At least not with such intensity.
Had she done something wrong?
Maybe she shouldn’t have taken that day off last week when she’d come down with food poisoning from the deli sandwich she’d snagged at the convenience store on her way home from work. She never took a day off unless it was absolutely a puking-in-the-trashcan necessity. Her hurried selection from the store’s cooler and lack of checking the expiration date had caused her to miss an important meeting. When she’d returned to work the following day, Dec had kept his distance.
Maybe he’d just thought she had contagious cooties. Or maybe he’d become dissatisfied with the quality of her work.
No. That couldn’t be it.
From analyzing documents, to preparing research reports, to supervising the clerical staff, even to organizing baby showers and employee recognitions, she knew she was an integral part of the team. A part of the business Dec would either have to take care of himself or hire someone else to do. As his executive assistant she was more than just a message taker or a calendar coordinator. She kept his days managed and fluid. And she’d helped his business become one of the top financial companies in Southern California. Plus, she’d never had a bad or even a problematic performance review.
Still, an employee rarely knew when the ax was about to fall. Especially if they thought they’d been doing a good job.
Was she about
to be fired?
God, she hoped not. She’d just booked a diving vacation in Costa Rica. She couldn’t afford to lose her job now. Then again, no time was a good time.
A direct question from her boss forced her to temporarily push the concern aside and do what the man paid her to do.
As the hour-long meeting with the Flavios crept along, Brooke struggled to stay on task. Each tick of the clock increased her edginess about what was going on inside Dec’s complex mind. The distraction made her anxious and until now she’d never allowed herself to become preoccupied during work hours.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true.
She allowed herself to be plenty distracted by her boss—her gorgeous boss—who’d never been anything other than a gentleman. Who’d never displayed any intent other than getting a job done well. He’d never looked at her with anything more than his professional game face. He’d never made an inappropriate joke or a suggestive pass.
Even though she’d be totally open to it.
He worked too hard and, yes, he seemed a bit rigid and reserved, but that just made her want to dig deeper. To discover which buttons to push to get him to cut loose a little. He had so much passion for the financial world and his business that he must be equally passionate about everything beyond the office walls. Or was that just her wishful thinking?
A horrified thought crashed through her brain.
What if she’d been too transparent about her infatuation with him? What if she’d made him feel awkward with the longing looks she knew she sometimes couldn’t help? Like now, when he was relaxed in his chair looking confident and powerful. What if she’d inadvertently let her silk sheets fantasies about him out of the bag?
No. That couldn’t be it. It wasn’t like she’d ever drooled or anything. She’d been careful.
Hopefully.
Maybe.
She glanced up from her keyboard, watching him as he began to wrap up the meeting. His presence commanded a meeting in a way that had more to do with his brain and less to do with his nearly black hair and blue-eyed good looks. He was smooth and smart, and the Flavios were inhaling his every word like he was some kind of economic demigod. She saw him as a god too, but hers leaned more toward the sexy superhero kind, even if she’d never seen him in anything other than a suit. The dark blue tie he wore today matched the color of his eyes. He had amazing eyes. Especially when he smiled. Which, come to think of it, wasn’t all that often.