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Rebecca tossed her skirt to the side, folding it, but it was proving too difficult.

“Because I was in love with him, and everyone told me it was just a crush. It wasn’t.

So maybe I made him an offer that he couldn’t refuse.

Maybe I seduced him and used guilt as a motivator.

Or maybe we had a nice lunch, and that was it. ”

“Please, please tell me you didn’t seduce my best friend.”

“Alex, we are both adults. How much further do you want to push this? Because if I tell you something, it can’t be unsaid. You might never look at me in the same way.”

Her words seemed to register. “Stop. I don’t want to know.”

“No, you don’t. Mitch is one of your best friends, and nothing that happened with us should change that.”

“Just answer one question for me.”

The second skirt she was trying to fold ended up in a heap in her luggage. “What?”

“You didn’t have sex with Mitch, did you?”

“Did you pay any attention to the conversation we just had? You don’t listen. Go away,” she said and made a shooing motion with her hand.

Rebecca dressed in her favorite red suit for her interview in London. With her raven hair, which she wore up in a twist, and makeup to accentuate her green eyes, she looked not only professional but fashionable and very sharp.

She accessorized with a faux black patent crocodile bag and matching shoes.

Thankfully, the concierge made a hotel car and driver available to her.

She was namedropping, and on the day she was about to see her ex-lover, she didn’t care that it was something she would never do when her mind was completely clear.

She called down to the concierge ten minutes before she wanted to go to her Donovan interview.

The car was waiting when she emerged from the front of the hotel.

The driver was standing next to an open door of a midnight blue Mercedes. Well, at least she’d be going in style.

Arriving ten minutes early for her ten o’clock interview, she sat quietly in the well-appointed lobby of Donovan Security, and people watched.

All the furniture was deep espresso leather as were the walls and the carpet.

When a blonde in a pink Chanel suit—smelling of bubble gum and cotton candy swirled in carnations—arrived shortly after Rebecca sat down, Rebecca took notice.

The woman carried a dark pink quilted Christian Dior bag that perfectly coordinated with her shoes.

She walked up to the receptionist, who greeted her by calling her “Miss Donovan” and asked her who she wanted to see.

“Mitch, if he’s available. If not, then Daddy,” she replied.

Rebecca immediately pegged the other woman as Lily, Mitch’s fiancé. She had a big diamond on her engagement ring finger. Nice job, Mitch. Wasn’t Lily the lucky woman?

Rebecca tried to block out her memories of Mitch.

Lily had to be close to Rebecca’s age, but the similarities ended there. Where Rebecca was dark, this woman was light. Did it surprise her that Mitch would be so attracted to a blue-eyed blonde after her? Maybe her dark hair and green eyes had never been his type. That was a disappointing thought.

Lily’s figure was slight, whereas Rebecca’s was full and curvy.

Rebecca had big breasts and lush hips, which she never apologized for because she looked like a woman, not a boy.

She had never wanted it any other way, but maybe Mitch hadn’t liked those elements of her body.

Maybe he liked a more athletic figure. A boy’s figure?

Poor Mitch. He was a breast man six years ago, and she would be surprised if that had changed.

Well, Lily didn’t appear to have much to offer in that department.

“Miss Donovan, you can go back. Mr. Wilder is waiting for you in his office.”

The longing, the sadness, and the jealousy cut Rebecca to the quick. What she would give to have Mr. Wilder waiting for her. She only hoped Lily Donovan knew how lucky she was. She doubted it.

Rebecca flashed to a memory of Mitch’s face leaning down to give her a sweet kiss as they were joined in that soft bed at the Marriott, with its stiff white sheets. They had been a couple of kids, but it hadn’t taken long for Mitch to find out what she liked and vice versa.

As long as she lived, she’d never forget the feel of Mitch inside of her or the tenderness he showed her the first time they made love.

The lovers who had come after Mitch had not measured up.

But she had tried to turn them into what she needed to no avail.

Why hadn’t she tried harder? How many times had she almost jumped on a plane to London?

Well, why hadn’t she? She was finally in London, but now it was too late.

She was an idiot. But it was a two-way street, and he had tried his best to avoid her.

She couldn’t forget that. He obviously regretted their time together. But she didn’t, and she never would.

A few more minutes passed, and Rebecca was feeling worse and worse as she reflected on Mitch and what he’d done to never be in the same room with her. It hurt her feelings.

“Miss Stark? They are ready for you now,” the receptionist announced in a clipped London accent.

Rebecca stood and followed the woman who’d gotten out from behind the desk.

A grim-looking Miss Donovan passed them on her way out and said goodbye to the receptionist. Miss Donovan had a short meeting with Mitch, and it looked like it hadn’t gone well.

Too bad. Barely time to kiss, Rebecca thought as she followed the receptionist into a conference room occupied by Lucien Donovan and Mitchell Wilder.

He was better looking, if that was possible.

Now thirty, but he had some gray at his temples.

Not a lot, but enough that she noticed. It made him more distinguished.

He’d grown into his features, and damn, it worked.

Blindly, she shook hands with Lucien, but Mitch stood, walked around the long, shiny table, and pulled her into his arms. She tried not to lean into the hug he offered.

Of all the hugs and arms that had been around her for the last six years, nothing felt as good, as reassuring, as blindly intoxicating as this moment with this man.

But she had to keep it professional for both their sakes.

Was it her imagination, or did he sigh into her ear as he held her? It didn’t matter. The hug lasted at least two beats too long.

By way of explanation to Lucien Donovan, Mitch said, “We spent a lot of time together when I was her brother’s roommate in college. I practically lived at the Starks’ home.”

She said the most intelligent thing that came to her mind, “We used to gang up on my brother and decimate him at Monopoly. Actually, I think you both came home to do laundry and have Mom cook for you.”

“Vic used to iron my jeans. She is a sweetheart. Those were fun times,” Mitch said. “The Starks were some of my best memories from that time of life.”

Was she a good memory too? She hoped so.

“We had a blast,” she said, and she grabbed one of the chairs for support so as not to allow her emotions to overwhelm her.

“Allow me,” Mitch said and pushed the leather chair toward the table after she sat. Then he walked around the table to his vacated chair and sat down.

The blush on her cheeks was there. She could feel it. Her face probably matched her suit. Mitch always had that effect on her.

She focused on Lucien Donovan, but it wasn’t easy. She felt Mitch’s eyes on her, and she wondered what he was thinking. Had he dodged a bullet or missed a wonderful life? She knew which camp she was in. Life had really let her down on this one.

Lucien asked her a series of questions, while Mitch merely appeared to listen but did not engage.

Every time she stole a glance his way, he smiled at her, his dimples standing out in approval.

Lucien discussed the certifications she’d need and how there would be an extensive background check.

It was daunting, but she liked a challenge.

Finally, Lucien said, “Well, what do you think? Pending the background check comes back clean…Would you like to join our family?”