#1 Sunday Times and #1 international bestselling author Sylvia Day, the multi-award winning author of provocative fiction, delivers the debut story in this brand new series.

The realization that Jax still affected me so strongly was a tough pill to swallow.

He’d only been part of my life for five short weeks two years ago. But now he was back. Walking into a deal I’d worked hard to close. And God, he was magnificent. His eyes were a brown so dark they were nearly black. Thickly lashed, they were relentless in their intensity. Had I really thought they were soft and warm? There was nothing soft about Jackson Rutledge. He was a hard and jaded man, cut from a ruthless cloth.

In that moment I understood how badly I wanted to unravel the mystery of Jax. Bad enough that I didn’t mind how much it was going to cost me...

Sexy, contemporary romance stories for today’s fun, fearless women.

Cosmo Red-Hot Reads from Mills & Boon

www.millsandboon.co.uk/Cosmo

Dedication

This one is for all the Cosmo girls.

Acknowledgments

My gratitude to Kimberly Whalen, Ann Leslie Tuttle, and Dianne Moggy—the fun, fearless women taking this journey with me.

And to my dear readers, who inspire me every day. Thank you!

Dear Reader,

I’m so excited to be sharing Jackson and Gianna’s story with you, and to do so as the launch title of Cosmo Red-Hot Reads from Mills & Boon! While Jax and Gia are discovering the possibilities of second chances, we’re exploring new opportunities with this collaboration between Mills & Boon, Cosmopolitan and me. Like every Cosmo girl out there, I’m always thrilled to blaze new trails.

I’ve been a Cosmo girl and romance reader for nearly as long as I can remember. Through every stage of my life, from high school through to marriage and parenthood, I have had the latest issue of Cosmopolitan and a romance novel (or a few) on my coffee and bedside tables. You’re never beyond being fun, fearless and fabulous, and we all deserve to find our one-in-a-million guy.

I hope you enjoy Gianna’s story as she takes the New York business world—and Jackson!—by storm. I look forward to talking with you about it after you’ve turned the last page. You can find me here: www.sylviaday.com/community.

Stay fierce!

Sylvia

Afterburn

#1 Sunday Times Bestselling Author

Sylvia Day

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Extract

Chapter 1

IT WAS A breezy fall morning when I entered the mirrored glass skyscraper in midtown Manhattan, leaving the cacophony of blaring horns and pedestrian chatter behind to step into cool quiet. My heels clicked across the dark marble of the massive lobby with a tempo that echoed my racing heart. With damp palms, I slid my ID across the security desk. My nervousness only increased after I accepted my visitors badge and headed to the elevator.

Have you ever wanted something so bad, you couldn’t imagine not having it?

There were two things in my life I’d felt that way about: the man I’d stupidly fallen in love with and the administrative assistant position I was about to interview for.

The man had turned out to be really bad for me; the job could change my life in an amazing way. I couldn’t even think about walking away from the interview without nailing it. I just had this feeling, deep inside me, that working as Lei Yeung’s assistant was what I needed to spread my wings and fly.

Still, despite my inner pep talk, my breath caught when I stepped out onto the tenth floor and saw the smoked-glass entrance to Savor, Inc. The company’s name was emblazoned in a metallic feminine font across the double doors, challenging me to dream big and relish every moment.

Waiting to enter, I studied the number of well-dressed young women sitting around the reception area. Unlike me, they weren’t wearing last season’s styles secondhand. I doubted any of them had held three jobs to help pay for college, either. I was at a disadvantage in nearly every way, but I’d known that and I wasn’t intimidated...much.

I was buzzed through the security doors and took in the café-au-lait walls covered with photos of celebrity chefs and trendy restaurants. There was a faint aroma of sugar cookies in the air, a comforting scent from my childhood. Even that didn’t relax me.

Taking a deep breath, I checked in with the receptionist, a pretty African-American girl with an easy smile, then I stepped away to find a bare place against the wall to stand. Was my scheduled appointment time—for which I was nearly half an hour early—a joke? I soon realized that everyone was set for a brisk five-minute audience, and they were marched in and out precisely on time.

My skin flushed with a light mist of nervous perspiration.

When my name was called, I pushed away from the wall so quickly that I wobbled on my heels, my clumsiness mirroring my shaky confidence. I followed a young, attractive guy down the hall to a corner office with an open, unmanned reception area and another set of double doors that led into Lei Yeung’s seat of power.

He showed me in with a smile. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

As I passed through those doors, I was struck first by the cool modern vibe of the decor, then by the woman who sat behind a walnut desk that dwarfed her. She might’ve been lost in the vast space, with its stunning views of the Manhattan skyline, if not for the striking crimson of her reading glasses, which perfectly matched the stain on her full lips.

I took a moment to really get a good look at her, admiring how the strip of silver hair at her right temple had been artfully arranged into her elaborate updo. She was slender, with a graceful neck and long arms. And when she looked up from my application to consider me, I felt exposed and vulnerable.

She slid her glasses off and sat back. “Have a seat, Gianna.”

I moved across the cream-colored carpet and took one of the two chrome-and-leather chairs in front of her desk.

“Good morning,” I said, belatedly hearing a trace of my Brooklyn accent, which I’d practiced hard to suppress. She didn’t seem to pick up on it.

“Tell me about yourself.”

I cleared my throat. “Well, this spring I graduated magna cum laude from the University of Nevada at Las Vegas—”

“I just read that on your résumé.” She softened her words with a slight smile. “Tell me something I don’t already know about you. Why the restaurant industry? Sixty percent of new establishments fail within the first five years. I’m sure you know that.”

“Not ours. My family has run a restaurant in Little Italy for three generations,” I said proudly.

“So why not work there?”

“We don’t have you.” I swallowed. That was way too personal. Lei Yeung didn’t seem rattled by the gaffe, but I was. “I mean, we don’t have your magic,” I added quickly.

“We...?”

“Yes.” I paused to collect myself. “I have three brothers. They can’t all take over Rossi’s when our dad retires and they don’t want to. The oldest will and the other two...well, they want their own Rossi’s.”

“And your contribution is a degree in restaurant management and a lot of heart.”

“I want to learn how to help them realize their dreams. I want to help other people achieve theirs, too.”

She nodded and reached for her glasses. “Thank you, Gianna. I appreciate you coming in today.”

Just like that, I was dismissed. And I knew I wasn’t going to get the job. I hadn’t said whatever she’d needed to hear to make me the clear-cut winner.

I stood, my mind racing with ways I could turn the interview around. “I really want this job, Ms. Yeung. I work hard. I’m never sick. I’m proactive and forward-thinking. It won’t take me long to anticipate what you need before you need it. I’ll make you glad you hired me.”

Lei looked at me. “I believe you. You juggled multiple jobs while maintaining your honors GPA. You’re smart, determined and not afraid to hustle. I’m sure you’d be great. I just don’t think I’d be the right boss for you.”

“I don’t understand.” My stomach twisted as my dream job slipped away. Disappointment pierced through me.

“You don’t have to,” she said gently. “Trust me. There are a hundred restaurateurs in New York who can give you what you’re looking for.”

I lifted my chin. I used to be proud of my looks, my family, my roots. I hated that I was constantly second-guessing all of that now.

Impulsively, I decided to reveal why I wanted to work with her so badly. “Ms. Yeung, please listen. You and I have a lot in common. Ian Pembry underestimated you, isn’t that right?”

Her eyes blazed with sudden fire at the unexpected mention of her former partner who’d betrayed her. She didn’t answer.

I had nothing to lose at this point. “There was a man in my life who underestimated me once. You proved people wrong. I just want to do the same.”

She tilted her head to the side. “I hope you do.”

Realizing I’d come to the end of the road, I thanked her for her time and left with as much dignity as I could manage.

As far as Mondays went, that was one of the worst of my life.

* * *

“I’M TELLING YOU, she’s an idiot,” Angelo said for the second time. “You’re lucky you didn’t get that job today.”

I was the baby of the family, with three big brothers. He was the youngest. His righteous anger on my behalf made me smile despite myself.

“He’s right,” Nico said. The oldest of the Rossi boys—and biggest prankster—bumped Angelo out of the way to set my meal in front of me with a flourish.

I’d chosen to sit at the bar, since Rossi’s was packed as usual, the dinner crowd boisterous and familiar. We had a lot of regulars and often a celebrity or two, incognito, who came here to eat in peace. The comfortable mix was a solid sign of Rossi’s great reputation for warm service and excellent food.

Angelo bumped Nico back with a scowl. “I’m always right.”

“Ha!” Vincent scoffed through the kitchen window, sliding two steaming plates onto the service shelf and ripping the corresponding tickets off their clips. “Only when you’re repeating what I said.”

The ribbing coaxed a reluctant laugh out of me. I felt a hand at my waist the moment before I smelled my mother’s favorite Elizabeth Arden perfume.

Her lips pressed against my cheek. “It’s good to see you smile. Everything happens—”

“—for a reason,” I finished. “I know. It still sucks.”

I was the only one in my family who’d gone to college. It’d been a group effort; even my brothers had pitched in. I couldn’t help feeling like I’d let them all down. Sure there were hundreds of restaurateurs in New York, but Lei Yeung didn’t just turn unknown chefs into name brands, she was a force of nature.

She spoke frequently about women in business and had been featured on a number of midmorning talk shows. She had immigrant parents and had worked her way through school, making a success of herself even after being betrayed by her mentor and partner. Working for her would have been a powerful statement for me.

At least, that’s what I’d told myself.

“Eat your fettuccine before it gets cold,” my mother said, gliding away to greet new patrons coming in.

I forked up a bite of pasta dripping with creamy Alfredo sauce as I watched her. A lot of customers did. Mona Rossi was closer to sixty than fifty, but you’d never know it from looking at her. She was beautiful and flamboyantly sexy. Her violet-red hair was teased just high enough to give it volume and frame a face that was classical in its symmetry, with full lips and dark sloe eyes. She was statuesque, with generous curves and a taste for gold jewelry.

Men and women alike loved her. My mom was comfortable in her skin, confident and seemingly carefree. Very few people realized how much trouble my brothers had given her growing up. She had them well trained now.

Taking a deep breath, I absorbed the comfort around me—the beloved sounds of people laughing, the mouthwatering smell of carefully prepared food, the clatter of silverware meeting china and glasses clinking in happy toasts. I wanted more out of my life, which sometimes made me forget how much I already had.

Nico came back, eyeing me. “Red or white?” he asked, setting his hand over mine and giving a soft squeeze.

He was a customer favorite at the bar, especially with the women. He was darkly handsome, with unruly hair and a wicked smile. A consummate flirt, he had his own fan club, ladies who hung out at the bar for both his great drinks and sexy banter.

“How about champagne?” Lei Yeung slid onto the bar stool next to me, recently vacated by a young couple whose reserved table had opened up.

I blinked.

She smiled at me, looking much younger than she had during our interview, dressed casually in jeans and a pink silk shell. Her hair was down and her face scrubbed free of makeup. “Lots of rave reviews about this place online.”

“Best Italian food ever,” I said, feeling my heartbeat quicken with renewed excitement.

“A lot of them say a great place got even greater over the past couple of years. Am I right in assuming that’s due to you putting into practice things you’ve learned?”

Nico set two flutes in front of us, then filled them halfway with bubbling champagne. “You’re right,” he said, butting in.

Lei caught the stem of her glass and stroked it with her fingers. Her gaze caught mine. Nico, who was good at knowing when to disappear, moved down the bar.

“To get back to what you said...” she began. I started to cringe, then straightened up. Lei Yeung hadn’t made a special trip just to berate me. “Ian underestimated me, but he didn’t take advantage of me. Blaming him would give him too much credit. I left the door open and he walked through it.”

I nodded. The exact circumstances of their split were private, but I’d inferred a lot from the reports in industry magazines and filled in the rest from gossip columns and blogs. Together they’d had a culinary empire comprised of a stable of celebrity chefs, several restaurant chains, a line of cookbooks and affordable cookware that sold in the millions. Then Pembry had announced the launch of a new chain of eateries bankrolled by A-list actors and actresses—but Lei hadn’t been part of that.

“He taught me a lot,” she went on. “And I’ve come to realize he got as much out of that as I did.” She paused, thoughtful. “I’m getting too used to myself and the way I’ve always done things. I need fresh eyes. I want to feed off someone else’s hunger.”

“You want a protégée.”

“Exactly.” Her mouth curved. “I didn’t realize that until you pointed it out. I knew I was looking for something, but I couldn’t say what it was.”

I was totally thrilled but kept my tone professional. I swiveled toward her. “I’m in, if you want me.”

“Forget about normal hours,” she warned. “This isn’t a nine-to-five gig. I’ll need you on weekends, and I might call in the middle of the night.... I work all the time.”

“I won’t complain.”

“I will.” Angelo came up behind us. All the Rossi sons had figured out who I was talking to and, as usual, none of them were shy. “I need to see her every once in a while.”

I elbowed him. We shared a sprawling, half-finished loft apartment in Brooklyn—all three of my brothers, me and Angelo’s wife, Denise. Most of the time we bitched about seeing one another too often.

Lei thrust out her hand and introduced herself to Nico and Angelo, then to my mom, who had wandered back over to see what the fuss was about. My dad and Vincent gave shout-outs through the service window. A menu was set in front of Lei, along with a basket of fresh bread and olive oil imported from a small farm in Tuscany.

“How’s the panna cotta?” Lei asked me.

“You’ll never have better,” I replied. “Have you already had dinner?”

“Not yet. Lesson number one—life’s too short. Don’t put off the good stuff.”

I bit on my lower lip to hold back a grin. “Does that mean I got the job?”

She held up her flute with a brisk nod. “Cheers.”

Chapter 2

One year later...

“GOD, THE RUSH,” Lei said, her feet tapping beneath the dining table. “It never gets old.”

I grinned, having caught the bug from her over the months we’d been working together. We’d experienced a lot of highs, but today—a cloudless late-September afternoon—was special. After months of finessing and wooing, we were going to close a deal that would snag two of Ian Pembry’s brightest stars. Payback for what he’d done to Lei long ago and a major coup for us.

Lei had dressed for the occasion and so had I. Her Diane von Fürstenberg wrap dress was vintage and her signature red. Paired with black boots, she looked fierce and sexy. I debuted a dark gold shell snagged from Donna Karan’s fall collection and the cigarette pants the designer had paired with them. The ensemble was chic and reflected a new me, a Gianna who’d evolved a lot over the previous year.

Impatient to finalize everything, I looked toward the entrance of the hotel bar and felt a surge of adrenaline when the Williams twins appeared as if on cue. Brother and sister made a striking pair, with auburn hair and jade-green eyes. They were a great team in the kitchen, having made a name for themselves with down-home Southern cooking updated with gourmet ingredients. The package they presented sold deluxe books and cute little tins of seasonings, but the truth wasn’t so pretty. Behind the scenes, they hated each other.

And that had been Pembry’s fatal mistake with his dynamic duo. He told them to suck it up and make it work, because they were making millions off their sibling success story. Lei had offered them what they really wanted—the chance to split up and shine on their own, while still capitalizing on their supposedly playful rivalry. Her plan was to build a chain of restaurants with dueling kitchens in the world-famous Mondego casinos and resorts.

“Chad. Stacy,” Lei greeted, rising to her feet along with me. “You’re both looking fabulous.”

Chad came over and pressed a kiss to my cheek before he even said hello to Lei. He’d been flirting with me for a while and it had become part of our negotiations with him.

I’ll admit I’d been tempted to do more than flirt on occasion, but thoughts of his sister retaliating held me back. Chad wasn’t a saint by any means, nursing a fierce ambitious streak. But Stacy was a real piece of work and she hated me more than her brother. Despite all my friendly overtures, she’d taken an instant dislike to me and that had seriously hindered the whole process.

Personally, I suspected she was sleeping with Ian Pembry—or had been once—and was carrying a torch for him. I thought that was why she didn’t like Lei, either, but maybe she was just one of those females who hated other women.

“I hope your rooms are comfortable,” I said, knowing damn well they were. The Four Seasons didn’t have its five-star reputation for nothing.

Stacy shrugged, her glossy hair sliding over her shoulder. She had an angelic face, pale with a smattering of freckles that were adorable. It was disconcerting how someone so sweet and innocent-looking, with a syrupy Southern accent, could be such a raging bitch. “They’re all right.”

Chad rolled his eyes and held out my chair for me. “They’re great. I slept like a rock.”

“I didn’t,” his sister griped, sliding gracefully into her chair. “Ian kept calling. He knows something’s up.”

She slid a side glance at Lei, as if gauging the impact of her words.

“Of course he does,” Lei agreed easily. “He’s a smart man. Which is why I’m surprised he didn’t do more to keep you both happy. He knows better.”

Stacy pouted. Chad winked at me. Usually I didn’t find winking cute, but it worked for him. Part of his good-ole-boy charm that was tempered by how sexy he was. There was something about him that hinted he might spank you with a spatula as expertly as he cooked with one.

“Ian did a lot for us,” Stacy contended. “I feel disloyal.”

“You shouldn’t. You haven’t signed anything yet,” I said, having learned reverse psychology worked best with her oppositional nature. “If you feel that your identity as the Williams twins has more potential than being Stacy Williams, you should absolutely go with your gut. It’s got you this far, after all.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Lei’s lips twitch with a repressed smile. It gave me a thrill that she was pleased, since she’d taught me pretty much everything I knew about herding egos where we wanted them to go.

“Don’t be an ass, Stace,” Chad muttered. “You know this casino deal is a prime opportunity for us.”

“Yes, but it may not be the only opportunity,” she argued. “Ian says we need to give him a chance to deliver.”

“You told him?” her brother snapped, scowling. “For fuck’s sake, the decision isn’t just yours to make! This is my goddamn career, too!”

I shot a worried glance at Lei, but she just gave a nearly imperceptible shake of her head. I couldn’t believe how cool and unruffled she looked, considering this deal would be the one to finally even the score between her and her mentor-turned-nemesis.

The Hollywood eateries Ian had pulled out from under her went bust when the celebrity investors got over the novelty of it and went looking for other tax shelters that didn’t involve personal appearances. And two of his heavy-hitter chefs had gone back to their home countries, leaving a lot riding on the young shoulders of the Williams twins.

“The Mondego deal is exclusive to Savor, of course,” Lei said. “What’s Ian offering you?”

What the hell had gone wrong? I glanced between the two siblings, and then at my boss. I had the contracts in my lucky satchel under the table. We were in the home stretch and suddenly our prime bet was backing away.

Later on, I’d recognize the ripple of awareness that shimmered across my skin for what it was. At the time, I thought it was foreboding, my instincts warning me that the deal had tanked long before we’d sat down at the table.

Then, I saw him.

Everything in me stilled, as if the predator couldn’t see me if I didn’t move. He came into the bar with a sultry stride that made my hands curl into fists beneath the tablecloth. That walk of his was easy and smooth, confident. And yet it somehow signaled to the female brain that he was packing heat between those long, strong legs and knew how to use it.

God, did he.

Dressed in a gray V-neck sweater and dress slacks of a darker hue, he looked like a successful man with the day off, but I knew better. Jackson Rutledge never took a day off. He worked hard, played hard, fucked hard.

I reached for my water glass with a shaking hand, praying he wouldn’t recognize me as the girl who’d once fallen hopelessly in love with him. I didn’t look the same. I wasn’t the same.

Jax was different, too. Leaner. Harder. His face made more stunning by the new sharpness in the angles of his jawline and cheekbones. I took a deep, quivering breath at the sight of him, reacting to his presence as if I’d been physically struck.

I didn’t even realize Ian Pembry was walking beside him until they stopped at our table.

* * *

“WHAT ARE THE chances Jackson Rutledge is related to Senator Rutledge?” Lei asked with silky evenness as we slid into the backseat of her town car. “Or any of the Rutledges for that matter?”

Her driver pulled away from the curb and I fumbled with my tablet just to have an excuse to keep my gaze averted. I was afraid to reveal too much, that her perceptive eyes would see how shaken I was.

“One hundred percent,” I said, my eyes on my tablet screen and the gorgeous face I’d thought—hoped—I would never see again. “Jackson and the senator are brothers.”

“What the hell is Ian doing with a Rutledge?”

I’d been asking myself the same thing as the deal I’d worked so hard on fell apart in front of me—we’d come with contracts and pen in hand and left empty-handed. Unfortunately, I’d lost track of the conversation the moment Jax had allowed Stacy to press an exuberant kiss to his cheek. The roaring of blood in my ears had drowned out everything.

Lei’s crimson-tipped fingers tapped a silent staccato on the padded door handle. Manhattan spread out all around us, the streets crawling with cars and the sidewalks with people. Steam billowed sinuously from the subways buried below, while shadows claimed us from above, the sun kept at bay by towering skyscrapers that choked out the light.

“I don’t know,” I answered, slightly intimidated by the energy she radiated, that of a tigress on the hunt. Did Jackson have any idea what he’d stirred by getting in Lei’s way?

“Jackson’s the only one of the Rutledge males not serving in political office somewhere in the country,” I continued. “He manages Rutledge Capital, a venture capital firm.”

“Is he married? Any children?”

I hated that I knew the answer to that question without looking it up. “Neither. He plays the field. A lot. Prefers pedigreed blondes in public, but won’t turn down a roll in the hay with something...flashier in a pinch.”

I couldn’t help remembering how Jax’s cousin-in-law, Allison Kelsey, had once described me. You’re flashy, Gianna. Guys like to fuck flash. Makes ’em feel like they’re banging a porn star. But that’s what turns them off, too. Enjoy him while it lasts.

Allison’s melodious voice and cruel words echoed in my mind, reminding me why I straightened my naturally wavy dark hair and had stopped maintaining the French-manicured acrylic nails that had made me feel sexy. I couldn’t do anything about the genetics that gave me an overly generous ass and big boobs, but I’d toned the rest of myself down, striving to be classy instead of flashy.

Lei looked at me sharply. “You got that from a five-minute search?”

“No.” I sighed. “I got that from five weeks in his bed.”

“Ah.” Her dark eyes took on an avid gleam. “So he’s the one. Well, this just got interesting.”

* * *

DURING THE REMAINDER of the ride back to the office, I braced for Lei to tell me the conflict of interest was a problem. I scrambled to find a way to downplay it.

“It wasn’t serious,” I told her as we rode the elevator up. At least not for him... “More like an extended one-night stand. I don’t think he even recognized me just now.”

And hell if that hadn’t stung. He hadn’t even looked at me.

“You’re not a woman a man forgets, Gianna.” She looked thoughtful. “I think we can work around this, but are you up for it? If this is going to get personal for you, we need to talk about that now. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I also don’t want to put my business at risk.”

My first instinct was to lie. I wished Jax had meant as little to me as I had to him. But I respected Lei and my job too much to be untruthful. “I’m not indifferent to him.”

She nodded. “I can see that. Glad you’re honest about it. Let’s keep you on this for now. You’ll throw Rutledge off balance and we’ll need that. And you’re my in with Chad Williams. He likes doing business with you.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. She was wrong about Jax, but I wasn’t going to blow my shot by pointing that out. “Thank you.”

We exited onto our floor and were buzzed through the glass doors. The receptionist, LaConnie, raised her brows at me, obviously picking up on our agitated vibe. We should have returned triumphant, not frustrated.

“Any idea why Rutledge would have a sudden interest in the restaurant industry?” Lei asked, returning to her earlier question as we headed to her office.

“If I had to make a guess, I’d say one of the Rutledges owed Pembry a favor.” That was the way the Rutledge family operated. They worked together like a tightly knit team, and even though Jax wasn’t a politician, he still played the game.

Lei went directly to her desk and took a seat. “We’ll need to figure out what chip he’s cashing in.”

I caught the undercurrent of annoyance in her voice and understood it. Ian Pembry had been undermining Lei in countless ways for years, but Lei had bided her time—it had been a study in patience that she admitted had made her a better businesswoman. She was determined to prove she’d learned his last lesson in betrayal well and I was determined to help her.

“Okay.” I knew a little of what she felt. It still made me angry that I’d jumped into bed with Jax. I’d known who he was, knew his reputation, yet I’d thought I was sophisticated enough to take him on.

Worse, I’d deluded myself into thinking he cared. He lived in D.C.; I was in Vegas. For five weeks he’d flown out to see me every weekend and the occasional weekday. I’d told myself a guy as beautiful and sexy as Jax wouldn’t go through all that trouble and expense just to get laid.

I hadn’t considered how rich he was. Rich enough to find it entertaining to jet cross-country for a piece of tail and cautious enough to find it convenient that his inappropriate mistress was far away from both the public eye and his family.

My desk phone started ringing, and I hurried out of Lei’s office to answer it. My station was set up just outside her doors, making me the last barrier visitors faced before they had an audience with her.

“Gianna.” LaConnie’s voice came clipped and quick through the receiver. “Jackson Rutledge is in the lobby, asking to see Lei.”

I hated the way my heart gave a little kick over hearing his name. “He’s here?”

“That’s what I said,” she teased.

“Have him sent up. I’ll be around in a minute to show him to the conference room.” I placed the receiver carefully back into its cradle and then walked back into Lei’s office. “Rutledge is about to arrive at reception.”

Her brows rose. “Is Ian with him?”

“LaConnie didn’t say so.”

“Interesting.” She glanced at the diamond-encrusted watch on her wrist. “It’s nearly five o’clock. You can stay for the meeting with Rutledge or head out, your choice.”

I knew I should probably stay. I was already feeling like I’d lost ground by freaking out at the Four Seasons. I’d been too shell-shocked by Jax’s unexpected appearance to grasp how the situation with the Williams twins had changed. Sadly, I wasn’t in any better shape now.

“Instead of sticking around, maybe I should use this time to reach out to Chad,” I suggested. “Get a feel for where he’s at with this. I know we wanted to take the Williams twins together, but even if we get just one, it’ll hurt Pembry in a significant way.”

“Good plan.” She smiled. “It’ll do Rutledge some good to get better acquainted with me, don’t you think? If Ian’s led him to believe I’m an easy mark, it would be smart to prove otherwise now.”

I almost smiled at the thought of Jax and Lei butting heads. He was far too used to females falling all over him, for both his devastating good looks and his family name, which was as close to royalty as America got.

“I’ll do some digging after I talk to Chad—” I backed out of the room “—and see if I can find the connection between Pembry and the Rutledges.”

“Good.” She steepled her fingers together and rested her chin on the tips, studying me. “Forgive me for asking, Gianna—but did you love Jackson?”

“I thought we loved each other.”

Lei sighed. “I wish that was one lesson women didn’t have to learn the hard way.”

Chapter 3

I GRABBED MY purse out of my desk drawer before I headed up to reception, clutching it like a talisman that would hurry me away from Jax before he realized who I was. The walk up to the front seemed to take a very long time.

It was a tough pill to swallow, realizing he still affected me so strongly. He’d only been part of my life for a short time. I’d had two other lovers since him and thought I had moved on.

He was studying a display of our bestseller cookbooks when I rounded the corner and my breath caught. His tall, powerful frame was now shown off to full advantage in an expertly tailored suit, a sign of respect for Lei I couldn’t help but appreciate. I’d never seen him dressed so formally in person. We’d met at a bar, of all places. I’d gone out with some classmates, and he was attending a bachelor party.

I should’ve known it wouldn’t turn out well.

But God, he was magnificent. His dark hair was close-cropped on the sides and back, slightly longer on the top. His eyes were a brown so dark they were nearly black. Thickly lashed, they were relentless in their intensity. Had I really thought they were soft and warm? I’d been blinded by that lush, sensual mouth and wicked dimple. There was nothing soft about Jackson Rutledge. He was a hard and jaded man, cut from a ruthless cloth.

He raked me from head to toe with a slow, intense look that made my fingers flex as I approached him.

It was well-known that he was a connoisseur of women. I told myself I could be anyone and get that look from him, but I knew better. My body remembered him. Remembered his touch, his scent, the way his skin felt against mine...

From the way he was looking at me, the same recollections were heating his blood, too.

“Hello, Mr. Rutledge,” I greeted him formally, because he still hadn’t acknowledged that he knew who I was. I spoke each word carefully, in a controlled voice not quite my own. I usually didn’t have to think about sounding too Brooklyn anymore, but he made me forget myself.

He made me want to forget everything.

“Ms. Yeung will be out in just a moment,” I continued, deliberately stopping a few feet away from him. “I’ll show you to the conference room. Can I get you some water? Coffee? Tea?”

His chest expanded with a deep breath. “Nothing, thank you.”

“This way, then.” I passed him, managing a strained smile for LaConnie as I walked by her. I could smell him, that subtle hint of bergamot and spice. I could feel his gaze on my back, my ass, my legs. It made me hyperconscious of my walk, which made me feel awkward.

He didn’t say a word, and I was afraid to, my throat too dry to make speech comfortable. I felt a terrible yearning—the almost desperate need to touch him the way I’d once had a right to. It was hard to believe I’d had him in my bed. Had him inside me. How had I ever had the courage to take on such a man?

I was relieved when we reached the conference room, the door handle feeling blessedly cool as I pushed it down.

His breath gusted softly over my ear. “How long are you going to pretend you don’t know me, Gia?”

My eyes slid closed as he purred the name only he had ever used.

Pushing the door open, I stepped inside, holding on to the handle so there was no mistaking that I wouldn’t be staying.

He walked right up to me, standing face-to-face. He was a little more than a head taller—even though I wore heels. His hands were in his pockets, his head bowed over me. He was in my personal space. Too intimate. Far too familiar.

“Please step back,” I said quietly.

He moved, but not in the way I wanted. His right hand slid out of his pocket, and then down my arm, from elbow to wrist. I felt his touch through the silk of my navy blouse and was grateful that the long sleeves hid the goose bumps.

“You’ve changed so much,” he murmured.

“Of course. Enough that you didn’t recognize me earlier.”

“Jesus. You think I didn’t know it was you?” He turned away, but that didn’t lessen his impact. The back view was just as splendid as the front. “You could never hide from me, Gia. I’d recognize you blindfolded.”

Shock and confusion held my tongue for a moment. We’d gone from distant and impersonal to searingly intimate in a heartbeat. “What are you doing here, Jax?”

He walked to the windows and looked out at New York. In the near distance, Central Park was a splash of green already touched with autumn-red and orange, a vibrant burst of color in a concrete jungle. “I’m going to offer Lei Yeung whatever it takes to make her go play in someone else’s sandbox.”

“It won’t work. This is personal.”

“Business should never be personal.”

I stepped back toward the threshold, eager to escape. The conference room was spacious and airy, with floor-to-ceiling windows on one side and clear glass on the other. The walls at either end were a soothing pale blue, with an expensively stocked bar to the right and a huge display screen to the left. Still, Jax dominated his surroundings, making me feel caged.

“Nothing’s personal, right?” I said, remembering how he’d just failed to show up one day. And every day after that.

“Things were between us,” he said, his deep voice husky. “Once.”

“No, they weren’t.” Not for you...

He turned abruptly, causing me to take another cautious step back even though we stood a room apart. “There are no hard feelings, then. Good. There’s no reason not to pick up where we left off. My meeting with Yeung won’t take long. When I’m done we can head to my hotel and get reacquainted.”

“Fuck you,” I snapped.

His mouth curved, revealing that delicious dimple. Oh, how that changed him, concealing how dangerous he was with a touch of boyish charm. I hated that playful little indentation as much as I adored it.

“There you are,” he said, with an unmistakable note of triumph. “You almost had me fooled into thinking the Gia I knew was gone.”

“Don’t toy with me, Jax. It’s beneath you.”

“I want you beneath me.”

I’d known he would say that, if I opened the door, but I’d had to hear it. I had to hear him spell it out. He was direct when it came to sex, sensual and natural as an animal. I loved it, because I’d been that way with him, too.

Greedy. Insatiable. Nothing else had ever made me feel as good.

“I’m seeing someone,” I lied.

Visually, he didn’t bat an eye, but somehow, I got the impression that struck a nerve. “That Williams guy?” he asked too casually.

“Hello, Mr. Rutledge,” Lei said, sweeping in on her killer Jimmy Choo slingbacks. “I’m going to assume this is a pleasant surprise.”

“It can be.” He turned his attention to her so completely, I felt dismissed.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” I said, walking out. Lei’s gaze caught mine and I understood the silent message. We’d be talking soon.

I didn’t look at Jax again, but I still got the same message from him.

* * *

I CALLED CHAD WILLIAMS as soon as I passed through the turnstiles in the lobby. “Hey,” I said when I heard his smooth Southern drawl. “It’s Gianna.”

“I was hoping you’d call.”

“Do you have dinner plans?”

“Ah—I can break them.”

I smiled, feeling a little guilty about preempting whoever was going to be ditched, but it felt good to have a little ego-stroking. My confidence had taken a beating from seeing Jax again.

I couldn’t forget how he’d been with me long ago. Frisky, teasing, affectionate. If I closed my eyes, I could still feel him come up behind me, sliding my hair out of the way to press his beautiful mouth against my throat. I could still hear the way he’d groan my name when he was inside me, as if the pleasure were too great to stand.

“Gianna? You still there?”

“Yeah, sorry.” I started pulling out the pins that restrained my straightened hair into a sleek chignon. “I know a charming Italian place. Cozy. Casual. Excellent food.”

“You’ve got yourself a date.”

“I’ll call the car service. I can pick you up in about fifteen minutes. Will that work?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

* * *

TRUE TO HIS WORD, Chad was standing on the sidewalk when the car pulled up. He wore loose-fitting black jeans, boots and a dark green Henley that went great with his eyes. As far as dates went, he was prime.

He started toward the cab, then jumped back with a curse as a bike messenger sped by.

“Christ almighty,” he muttered as he settled into the seat beside me. He looked me over as we merged back into rush-hour traffic. “I like your hair down. It suits you.”

“Thank you.” It’d taken me a while to get used to wearing it up. It was so thick and heavy, the weight of it gave me headaches...like the one I had at that moment.

“So,” I began, “I have to confess—”

“Hope it’s sinful.”

“Uh, no. I’m taking you to my parents’ place.”

His brows rose. “You’re taking me to meet your folks?”

“Yep. They own a restaurant. We won’t have trouble getting a table without a reservation—usually impossible on a Thursday night—and they won’t rush us off, either.”

“You planning on keeping me around awhile?” he teased.

“I’d like to. I think we could work really well together.”

Chad nodded, sobering. “Stacy knows what you’re offering is exactly what we need, but...she’s sleeping with Ian and it’s screwing everything up.”

“I figured.” Ian Pembry was a suave and distinguished fifty-year-old man with silvery gray hair and striking blue eyes. He wasn’t handsome in the usual sense, but he had charisma and a bank balance that made a lot of women overlook his flaws. Stacy had her work cut out for her; since Lei, he’d never stayed with any lover long. “What’s he offering you to stay with him?”

And where does Jax fit in? Had seeing me knocked him for a loop at all?

“Ian says he can put something together like you’ve presented and he can do it better, because Lei doesn’t have what it takes. That’s why she’s poaching his talent.”

“You know that’s crap.”

“I do, yeah.” He smiled. “You wouldn’t be working for her if she was second-rate.”

“And the Mondego resort chain is five-star all the way,” I reminded him. “They wouldn’t work with someone second-rate, either. This is the opportunity of a lifetime, Chad. Don’t let Stacy take it away from you.”

“Goddamn it.” His head fell back against the seat rest. “I don’t think we can make it separately. That’s why the idea of the dueling kitchens was going to work.”

“It will work. But you can do it on your own, too.”

He looked at me, his gaze searching. “Give it to me straight, Gianna. You’ll say anything to close this deal, won’t you?”

I thought about Jax and what he’d said about business not being personal. For me it was always personal. I cared.

“I’ve got my reasons,” I admitted, Jax now being one of them. I’d worked too hard to have him stroll in, toss his money around and ruin everything. “But I wouldn’t screw you over. It doesn’t get Lei or me anywhere if you’re not successful. I promise you, I won’t disappear as soon as the ink is dry.”

“And now I’ll know how to track you down through your folks,” he said, relaxing.

“Over thirty years in the same location.”

“I guess that’s as good a guarantee as anyone can get.”

* * *

MY FAMILY PULLED out all the stops when we got to Rossi’s, deducing who Chad was from my previous descriptions. We were seated at a corner table and everyone came by to introduce themselves, giving Chad a heaping dose of Rossi hospitality.

I had Chad take the bench seat facing the rest of the restaurant, while I took the single chair across from him. I wanted him to feel the energy, to see the faces of customers enjoying a great meal. I wanted him to remember why he wanted what Savor was offering him.

Over a toast, he said, “You’re right. This place is great.”

“I’m never going to lie to you.”

He laughed, and I enjoyed the sound. It was a bit wild, a lot free. Very much like the man himself. I was attracted to him on a comfortable level. Nothing like the explosion of body and mind I’d felt from the very first second I’d laid eyes on Jax, but then no one elicited that reaction but Jackson Rutledge.

“Smart bringing me here,” he said, running his fingertip around the lip of his wineglass. I suspected he’d prefer beer, but he didn’t ask for it. “Making me see you’ve got the business in your blood, too. It’s not just a job.”

“My family just opened our second Rossi’s in Upper Saddle River.”

“Where’s that?”

“New Jersey. Posh as hell. My brother Nico is spearheading it. Just passed the three-month mark.”

“So why not hook your family up with the Mondego?”

“It’s not what they want. They want this—” I gestured around the restaurant with a sweep of my hand. “Community. Franchising was never their dream.”

He studied me. “You make it sound like your dreams are different.”

I sat back. “I suppose they are. I want to help them get what they want, but I want something different.”

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