Page 10 of Tender Offer (Chance at Love #3)

Preston

“ I s there anything else I can get you, Mr. Donnelley?” a silky voice calls from the doorway.

“That will be all, thank you.” I don’t bother glancing up from my screen.

Heels click across weathered oak, signaling Stephanie’s departure. She’s a phenomenal executive assistant…when she’s not sending subliminal messages involving my dick.

“Please tell me you tried it,” William says from the door that should be closed. My idiot brother leans back with his lip between his teeth. “What a woman.”

Stephanie is brilliant, overqualified for her position, if you ask me.

She graduated top of her class with an MBA and isn’t hard on the eyes.

She’s peng, as we say here, but her slim figure and large bust are what have my brother in a chokehold.

I’ve always gravitated more toward wide hips and thighs.

The ample curves I’ve anchored to the bed with steady thrusts pulls my attention back to the computer.

A smile ghosts the seams of her full, red-stained lips.

Her stare is practiced, like it’s second nature to pose for photographers, rivaling the best supermodels.

Cinnamon brown hair flows over her shoulder in thick waves above the silhouette of voluptuous breasts.

The dress that caresses her body has my erection straining against my .

I’ve been hard all morning, searching for every glimpse into Madison’s life I can find between a lineup of meetings.

It’s become a ritual in the weeks since I drove her to the airport.

Time is rarely on my side, and that’s made any attempt to get to New York a failed effort.

But following her digital footprint requires no passport.

I have so many tabs open, it’s a miracle my laptop still functions. Photos of her online, her social media, and the files my private investigator sent consume the screen. Three weeks is nowhere near enough time to catch up on the years I’ve missed. I need to know everything about her.

Madison found her footing as a stylist. It’s been her dream since we met, and she’s living it on her terms. I grin at her success, which is cataloged through these photos. She did it.

“Bruv, are you listening? You’re missing out.”

This again.

I massage the bridge of my nose to wish my brother away. “Give it a rest, William.”

“She’s proper peng,” he says about Stephanie.

“Need I remind you of the no-fraternization policy?” My warning provokes the smirk he inherited from our father.

Between the two of them and our grandfather, generations have violated that policy without consequence. Our family name demands power, and that unlocks consenting legs.

I’ve fucked plenty in my office, but never an employee. Sex in the workplace gets messy, especially if there’s an uneven power dynamic, which is always the case when a Donnelley is involved.

“The holiday was supposed to remove the stick from your ass. You’ve been a mope since you got back.”

“I don’t let sex dictate my life. That’s the difference between you and me,” I counter.

I was William twenty years ago. An entitled little shit with a degree, access to a trust fund, and the rest of my youth to fuck my way through. I never remembered names or faces and sidestepped commitments. Until I laid eyes on a woman who changed the beat of my heart.

Madison altered something in me. At twenty-six, with the promise of more power at my fingertips, I saw a different path with the woman who reveled in high fashion but enjoyed strolls around our neighborhood before sunset.

She might’ve pretended to be someone else, but there was no faking the lighthearted laughs that filled our living room and the blinding smile I’d get when I put work away to focus on us.

The future we were creating rivaled any title or recognition I’d gain by stepping into my father’s shoes.

When Madison left, she took with her my ability to care.

I leaned into the bachelor life and fucked any woman in my path.

I never made a public spectacle of my private life, never officially dated anyone out in the open.

My brother and father lauded my conquests without realizing I was dead inside, missing the piece of my heart I allowed to break.

Once I became CEO, I reduced all sexual activities to a few women who’d maintain my privacy and not expect emotional attachment.

William crosses my office to stand next to the window that spans the length of the wall. This high up, I have a view of Westminster and the flat across the street I keep for convenience. It’s clear out, with a mix of frost and light winds. Another cold day in London.

“Tell me you at least enjoyed Ravenous while you were there.” My brother stuffs his hands into his gunmetal suit pockets and sighs. The accusing glance he casts is full of the disappointment he inherited from our father.

His pear-shaped jaw and steel blue eyes are the only physical markers of their shared genetics. William is his mother’s child, and I’m mine.

My father married Briar less than a year after my mother died. They had William two years later. His sandy blond hair and teardrop face make him the spitting image of the woman who’s loved our father faithfully despite his own disinterest in upholding his marriage vows.

Outside of the Donnelley name, the thick brows, and the semi-thin lips, I’m nothing like William or our father.

I lack the proper English accent thanks to years of boarding school, and I wear my mother’s features with pride.

From the pictures Nonna showed me, she was a knockout.

Thick hair framed the graceful lines of her face.

My honey hue is a mix of my mother’s caramel and Nonna’s mahogany shades.

Our wide cheekbones hold the same smile.

I was only hours old when she died. Every story Nonna shares implants memories I couldn’t experience. But her spirit is alive in the culture my grandmother instills, from generations of Black Sicilians who’ve called the island home and asserted their place.

“Preston. I haven’t seen you in weeks. What’s gotten into you?”

I scrub a hand over my face. “It was exceptional,” I say about Ravenous. There’s no enthusiasm behind my tone, but it’s not a lie.

Ravenous is my after-dark project. It won’t be available at every Donnelley property, but it provides select guests a taste of pleasure away from prying eyes. It’s not a full-fledged sex club, but it offers elements of exploration and voyeurism.

The Vail pop-up was exquisite. I chose our Colorado property because of the unsuspecting location. It was a last-minute decision, but we pulled it off with great success. Who knew my holiday would coincide with a singles’ retreat or be the place where I found Madison?

The shows and demonstrations were everything I hoped for, a top-tier experience for our first go at a pop-up playspace.

Guest concealed their identities behind masks and cloaks, which made it easy for me to slip in on the nights I went.

I like to watch, and I enjoyed a few shows, including a personal performance with a dancer and her toys.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” William’s mouth twitches. “How was the action?”

I didn’t sleep with anyone, a fact that disappoints him. My flight from London to Colorado was a different story. The flight attendant assigned to my family’s jet kept my glass full and the head of my dick at the back of her throat.

“Don’t you have work to do?”

“Oh, sod off.” William dismisses me with a hand. “Like you’ve been productive, the way I caught you daydreaming. What’s got your attention, anyway?”

“Nothing.”

My corner office is far from small. The engineered gray oak flooring, black walls, and recessed ambient lighting reflect a transition from my over-the-top predecessor to a modern aesthetic.

The seating areas around the room border my desk, which is stationed front and center.

The sleek wood trimmed in gold is long enough to serve as a conference table for meetings, but it does a shit job of keeping my nosy brother at bay.

He rounds the corner before I have a chance to close the window with a hundred open tabs.

“Who. Is. That?”

William goes completely still. He shamelessly gapes at a photo of Madison resting on a lounger in a bikini. Her face is to the sky, her eyes closed, the sun kissing her smile.

“Madison,” I say to her image.

William’s whistle is low. “No wonder you’ve been glued to your computer. I’d be beating the—”

“Knock it off! Don’t be a fucking ass.” What gray hair I have is because of this prick. I love my brother, but he needs to learn when to shut the fuck up.

He lifts his hands and takes a cautious step back. “Apologies. I meant no disrespect.” He tips his chin to the screen. “She’s a looker.”

“What now?” I sigh at whatever is about to come out of his mouth.

He hesitates with a bite to his lip. “You’ve always had a thing for ’90s women. She looks like the one in that movie you made me watch, with the Terminator.”

“ Eraser .”

He snaps his fingers. “That’s the one. Looks just like her.”

After primary school, I was off to a boarding school in Connecticut, two and a half hours from New York. My father agreed to let me stay in the States through secondary school under the condition that I attend an Ivy League university and dedicate six years to learning the business in France.

Maia Campbell.

Tatyana Ali.

Lisa Bonet.

I soaked up every Black American ’90s sitcom and fell in love. It’s one of the reasons Justice caught my eye at the singles’ retreat. You can’t tell me she isn’t related to Tia and Tamera.

Does Madison favor Vanessa Williams from back in the day? Yeah, I’ll give William that. But she’s more than a replica; she’s one of a kind.

“We met fifteen years ago, in Paris,” I say to William, who plops himself into a chair in front of my desk.

His brows do their best to fight gravity. “And you saw her on holiday? Did you two keep in touch? I’m not following.”

I tell Stephanie to hold my calls and fill him in. He was still in uni when I was in France. I kept my relationship with Madison away from outside influence. Everything was perfect until secrets we couldn’t overcome surfaced.

“That’s heavy, Pres. What’s the move?”

I scrub a hand over the goatee I’ve let grow. “Get her back.”

William cackles. “What are you waiting for?”

“I lost her once, and I’m not rushing anything. You’ll see once I return.”

I fly to Malaysia in two days. Then to Indonesia before a small stint in California to check on a project there. There’s no time to go to New York. So, I’ll do the next best thing, even if it might get me slapped.