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Fuck. I don’t ever remember wanting a woman this much. I’m consumed by lust and it’s going to ruin the takeover if I don’t get this under control. I need to wine and dine the board members tonight, not drool over my assistant turned date.

I’ve racked my brain attempting to figure out how to coerce her into my bed. But the delicateness of her situation, her association with Mason, and her innocence mean I have to tread so carefully.

Blowing out a breath, her fingers tighten instinctually on my arm, some small gesture of comfort.

This is one of the ways men end up fucking married. It’s the woman they can’t have, the one they’ll do anything to get.

And I know I’m officially losing my mental capabilities because, for a moment, I consider it.

Would she marry me for a year? I know it’s ridiculous, putting terms on marriage like I do on dating.

But I could take care of her brother, have a prenup where she gets a tidy sum after. We’d both win.

And then I could fuck her in every position in every room of this house until I’ve worked out whatever lust-induced haze has clouded my mind.

I tuck that idea away, attempting to focus on tonight.

I do not normally greet guests with a woman on my arm. I don’t want my date to get ideas…

But as Honeyeh is not a real date and I’d really like to see how she handles tonight, I keep her hand on my arm as I station myself by the front door.

But the first guest through the door is my brother, Gris. I am a man who normally sees the details. How could I miss this one? My family might get the wrong impression when they see me with Honeyeh. They know I don’t normally allow my dates to play hostess.

Gris sizes up Honeyeh in a single sweep of his knowing gaze, his eyes meeting mine with a satisfied gleam. He doesn’t have the wrong impression, he’s got it exactly right.

Next to me, Honeyeh gasps.

“What’s wrong?”

“In tuxedos, you look even more like your brother,” she whispers back.

Arabella greets Honeyeh with a wide smile. “Why, hello, I’m Arabella. Such a pleasure to meet you.”

Honeyeh gives my future sister-in-law a glowing grin back. “Honeyeh Karimi, and the pleasure is all mine.”

The two women embrace, leaving Gris and I to stare at each other, surely wearing matching looks of confusion. They’ve never met. Why would they hug?

“I’m Gris Smith,” Gris interrupts, his hand landing on Arabella’s back. “After my fiancée is done commandeering this introduction.”

Honeyeh and Arabella laugh, Arabella backing up. “Sorry. The women at these things aren’t usually friendly. It’s just refreshing.”

“Oh, that’s good to know, actually,” Honeyeh reaches for Arabella’s hands again. “Otherwise, I might have worried the lack of friendliness was directed at me.”

And then the two of them begin babbling to each other in quick bursts of conversation I can hardly keep up with.

“What is happening?” Gris whispers, giving me a bewildered look.

I shake my head. Hell, if I know. He’s the one who’s getting married. “You’d know better than me.”

Rush and Ryker enter together, neither with a date. Fools.

But they stop when they see my hand on Honeyeh’s back as she talks with Arabella. Rush gives a low whistle while Ryker’s brows shoot up.

Honeyeh barely notices as she and Arabella keep talking. I’ve never heard Honeyeh say so much, she’s normally quiet and I feel a twinge of jealousy.

But it leaves Ryker free to come to my other side. “Who is the bombshell?”

“That’s Honey something,” Gris offers.