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To step out of his need for power like I watched him step out of his clothes that night at the beach.

I swallow.

Spending a night with him would be more than a quick fix. I can’t let him get under my skin more than he already has.

“I don’t think so.”

His gaze narrows as he folds his arms across his chest. “You don’t want to spend an evening with me.”

I cross to his desk, lift the letter opener off the blotter, and hold it out. “In case you need help scraping yourself off the ground.”

But before I can turn, a hand closes around my wrist, hot and firm and strong.

“I said it would be more appropriate if you dated my brother. That wasn’t a suggestion.”

“Really? You’re so damned subtle it’s hard to keep up,” I taunt.

Bad idea.

His thumb brushes the underside of my wrist. Soft, deliberate.

My pulse leaps in response, and the letter opener clatters to the desktop.

“I need a date, and you owe me three favors,” he drawls. I don’t realize I’ve stopped breathing until he releases me again. “Consider this the first.”

10

RAE

This is a bad fucking idea.

I take a deep breath as I turn back to the mirror. The dress is the color of tangerines, ripe and lush.

It’s cut high at the front, circling my neck like a collar. The back is nonexistent, starting above the top of my ass. The skirt has a high slit up one thigh, and the long fabric on either side ripples when I turn or walk.

Before I could ask Ash what to wear or browse shops on my own, the box appeared on my bed.

The sky-high wedge sandals that came with the dress are the same color as my skin. They’re uncomfortable as hell when I fasten them around my ankles, but before I can decide whether to take them off, a knock sounds on my door.

“I understand most women consider tardiness a virtue, but I didn’t expect it of you,” comes the grumpy British voice from the other side.

I pull it open an inch, and my chest contracts.

Harrison King is breathtaking in his tux. James Bond come to life, with a hard body, sculpted lips, strong hands, and eyes that promise to steal your secrets and keep them for himself.

But it’s the naked hunger on his face when he sees me, his gaze dragging over me like he’s starved, that makes me want to turn around and slam the door.

“It’s more Little Queen than me,” I quip to hide the ripples of awareness.

“She’s you. And this…” His gaze runs down my figure again. “This is definitely you.”

His praise warms me. I don’t need anyone else’s approval, but knowing a man who’s seen everything, done everything, could have anyone, gets simple pleasure from being in my presence is a high I never expected.

“You arseholes coming, or should Toro and I go on ahead?” Ash taunts from down the stairs.

When I start along the open hallway, Ash spots me from the foyer and dining area below and whistles. “Christ, Rae. If you’re looking for a man tonight?—”

“She’s not,” Harrison informs him.