Ready, player one...

Quinn Dellinger is supposed to be having fun at an industry party for gamers. Instead, all she can think about is the promotion she just got passed over for at her security firm. Then she spots him. Tall? Check. Dark? Check. Dangerously sexy? Check. Hell, yes—this is the guy who’ll help her forget all her worries and give her one wickedly naughty night.

The next morning she discovers her one-night stand was the guy who took her job. Oh, hell no. But Aiden Odell is not just a security specialist, he’s ex-FBI, and Quinn is expected to work with him—very closely—on a major assignment. He may be tall, dark and dangerously sexy, but this is one game Quinn is determined to win...

“I’m going to be bold...”

Quinn echoed Aiden’s words from earlier: “I like you. You’re kind of fascinating.”

They hovered for a moment, drawing out the sizzling anticipation before he took her mouth, claiming her. He tasted of Scotch and smelled of heaven and temptation. A tremor ran through her body as his tongue met hers, gentler than she expected. Teasing. Inviting.

Scorching heat seared her from the inside out, melting her into his embrace. His hand slid up her neck to cup her jaw as he tilted her head back, deepening their kiss. Even though they didn’t know one another, had never kissed before, he moved as if he knew her. As if he understood her.

Her hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him harder against her. His hot breath whispered across her skin as he trailed kisses along her jaw, stopping at the shell of her ear.

“Yes,” she said, her breath stuttering in and out. “My answer is yes.”

“I didn’t ask anything.” The corner of his mouth quirked up.

“Your kiss did...”

Dear Reader,

Writing each book is a unique experience, and no two books come out the same way. Sometimes the story comes to me in a flash of inspiration and others take a lot of thinking and staring off into space. Sometimes the ideas start with a plot point, a place or a theme.

And others, such as this one, start with a character.

If you read A Dangerously Sexy Christmas, my November 2015 Harlequin Blaze release, you may remember Quinn. She was the smart-mouthed, pink-haired tech guru who helped Max crack the case of the Noelle diamond. As soon as she appeared on the page I just knew I had to give her a happy-ever-after.

This book was so much fun to write. Since Quinn is a lover of all things video game related, I got to unleash my inner geek. I’m a child of the ’80s, which I like to think of as the era of Nintendo and Super Mario Bros. So there are plenty of game references in this story!

But don’t worry, if that’s not your thing, there’s also a dash of mystery, a hunky ex-FBI hero and plenty of sexy bits to satisfy your cravings for a steamy romance.

I really hope you enjoy Quinn and Aiden’s story. You can find out what’s coming next by checking out my website, stefanie-london.com, or Facebook, Facebook.com/stefanielondonauthor. I love chatting with readers, so feel free to drop me a line anytime.

With love,

Stefanie

A Dangerously Sexy Affair

Stefanie London

www.millsandboon.co.uk

STEFANIE LONDON is a voracious reader who has dreamed of being an author her whole life. After sneaking several English lit subjects into her “very practical” business degree, she got a job in corporate communications. But it wasn’t long before she turned to romance fiction. She recently left her hometown of Melbourne to start a new adventure in Toronto and now spends her days writing contemporary romances with humor, heat and heart.

For more information on Stefanie and her books, check out her website at stefanie-london.com or her Facebook page at Facebook.com/stefanielondonauthor.

To Nonno, who taught me that nothing learned is ever wasted.

I miss you every day.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

Extract

Copyright

1

QUINN DELLINGER SHUFFLED closer to a potted plant and tried to pull down the hem of her dress without making it look as if she was adjusting her panties. Except pulling the dress down meant giving up any hope of a modest neckline. One wrong move could land her in wardrobe-malfunction territory, and her plans for the evening didn’t include having a “nip slip” in public.

“You know, dendrophilia is kind of frowned upon.” Her friend, Alana Peterson, laughed and linked her arm through Quinn’s, pulling her away from the plant. “Or are you trying to take your wallflower status to the next level?”

“I’m trying not to show everyone what I had for lunch.” Quinn pursed her lips. “This dress is obscene.”

Away from the security of the curling leaves and fronds of the potted plant, Quinn was exposed to the room. Banners displaying the annual Bright Star Technology Innovation conference logo hung from the ceiling. Posters advertising the sponsors dotted the walls, and large LCD screens flashed photos from the preceding three days’ worth of conference activities. But everyone in the room seemed to be more interested in talking and drinking.

“Don’t be such a prude.” Alana flipped her blond hair over one shoulder. “Besides, you were the one who said you wanted to get over your issues with sex. Part of that is to become comfortable with your body.”

“And becoming comfortable with my body involves showing as much of it as possible?”

“Not necessarily. But you said you want to get back in the game, and that means you need a partner.” Alana winked. “That dress looks hot. No guy in their right mind would refuse you.”

“I feel like a human sausage.”

“It’s body con,” Alana said as if it was common knowledge. “It’s meant to be tight.”

“I’d prefer a little less con.” She rolled her eyes.

“You have an amazing body.” Alana looked at her, the admiration on her face genuine and warm. “It’s such a shame that you hide it all the time.”

Quinn sighed. Trying to explain her complicated relationship with her body to someone who could be a Victoria’s Secret model would be pointless. There wasn’t anything wrong with the way she looked, not at all. But her gangly limbs, ghost-white skin and piercings weren’t exactly magazine-worthy.

She hid behind pink hair dye and quirky clothes. And her “resting bitch face” may have repelled men on more than one occasion. Male attention wasn’t something Quinn was ever at ease with...not when that attention could lead to humiliation.

“Besides, who says sex and networking can’t go hand in hand? You might find an orgasm and a new job. There are some big players here—game-design studios, a few software-development companies. I’m pretty sure I saw a guy from Microsoft,” Alana continued. “You’re wasting your talents at that security company, and your boss has no idea what you’re capable of.”

She frowned. “You’re right. I should have been given that promotion.”

“Instead they went with someone external, who doesn’t have any of your business knowledge.” Alana’s eyes flashed as she shook her head. “What a load of bullshit.”

“Tell me about it.” Quinn sighed.

Her annoyance toward Alana’s pushiness—and by extension, the dress—melted away. While Alana’s methods might be questionable, she’d always done her utmost to bring Quinn out of her shell.

And she was the only one Quinn could talk to about her issues with sex and her decision to conquer them. She wasn’t ready to date—that required a level of trust far beyond her capacity—but she could reclaim her sexuality.

All she had to do was find the right guy.

“You should quit,” Alana said, laying a hand on her arm and pulling her out of her thoughts. “They don’t know how talented you are.”

Quinn chewed on the inside of her cheek. Quitting sounded so simple when Alana said it in that airy way of hers, but that would mean going through the interview process again...and if there was one thing she sucked at, it was interviews. And even if she got a new job, she’d have to start working with a different team and go through that epic awkwardness of being the “new girl” all over again.

It wasn’t only that. She liked working at Cobalt & Dane. She admired her manager and appreciated all that they achieved as a company. She didn’t intend to quit—she simply had to prove they’d made a mistake by not promoting her. Being part of the technology security division at Cobalt & Dane Security was her dream, and after three years working as an IT support officer, she knew that she wanted more out of her career. That she was capable of more.

“I’m getting that job,” Quinn said through gritted teeth. “The new guy is a temporary hurdle.”

Alana raised a brow. “A temporary hurdle?”

“Yep. I’m going to make it my mission to prove to my boss that I’m exactly the person he needs.”

“You’ve already proven it, but they haven’t been paying attention.” Alana frowned, her blue eyes narrowing.

“Ease up, Mama Bear. I’m happy to show them what I’m made of.”

The two girls stood to the side of the room and watched the crowd. It was an eclectic mix of people: men in suits and others in jeans, old and young, a wonderful melting pot of nationalities and cultures.

But almost all men.

As a self-professed tech-head and an avid gamer, Quinn was used to being a minority. She and Alana had bonded immediately in high school because they were often the only two girls in their IT class. They’d both gone on to study technology at college and had entered the industry still feeling as if they didn’t quite belong.

Alana had taken it on the chin and ended up using her model looks to get ahead. She figured if men were going to objectify her then she’d use it to her advantage. Quinn, on the other hand, was the typical introvert. She worked better with small groups, had a few close friends she held dear and kept everyone else at arm’s length.

“If you keep pulling on that dress, you’re going to ruin the hem,” Alana admonished. “I’ll make you pay for it.”

“And I’ll challenge you to ‘Mortal Kombat,’ winner takes all,” Quinn pointed out.

“I wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall for that twice.” Alana’s glossy lips lifted into a rueful smile. “Talk about an embarrassing defeat.”

“Less than twenty seconds, if my memory serves me correctly.”

“I still maintain you cheated.”

Quinn laughed. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

The room buzzed around them, music mixing with conversation and the sound of laughter. Waiters wove through the crowds carrying silver trays filled with champagne, wine and beer. Quinn hadn’t been to a cocktail party before, and she was surprised that they weren’t actually serving cocktails. Not that she really gravitated to drinks with little umbrellas in them, but still...

“Do you actually know anyone here?” Quinn asked, accepting a glass of red wine from a passing waiter. She sipped and tried not to cringe at the taste; this was so not her style.

“Only the guy who got us added to the list. I recognize a few people. That guy—” Alana pointed to an older man in a gray suit “—he’s the CEO of Strikevision. I’m pretty sure I saw one of the guys from Popstar Games here, as well.”

Quinn nodded. She wasn’t impressed by celebrities or reality TV stars, but put the man responsible for “Saints Row” in front of her and she’d fangirl like a sixteen-year-old at a Justin Bieber concert.

“So why are you here? I don’t buy that it’s just to be my winglady.”

“I’m working on a story,” Alana admitted.

“You lured me here under false pretenses?” Quinn tugged at the hem of her dress again. “And you make me wear this hideously uncomfortable thing. Not cool at all.”

“It’s for a good cause. I got a sneak peek at Third Planet Studios’ plans for the next Galactic Warrior game. It’s the same old bullshit again—strong men saving weak little damsels in distress. I’ve been trying to get an interview with one of the designers to ask why they never have any female protagonists in their games.”

“Let me guess, he doesn’t want to have a bar of your feminist outrage.” Quinn shook her head. “And you want to hang them out to dry.”

“It’s my job.”

Alana ran one of the most prominent gaming news sites on the internet. She’d made a small fortune creating a space for female gamers to convene without judgment or objectification. Despite being called every horrible name under the sun—not to mention constantly battling vitriolic misogyny on every social media platform—Alana was determined to change the gaming industry. Quinn often contributed game reviews and blog posts in her spare time, happy to do anything to support her friend’s business since the issue was close to her heart, too.

“When I have a daughter, I want her to be able to play video games that empower her.” Alana stared out into the crowd, her face set into a mask of determination. “I don’t want her to be treated like a second-class citizen when she goes to a gaming convention.”

“Amen, sister.”

Alana paused, sipping on her champagne. “Is it so bad that I wanted you here for moral support?”

“You could have told me. Besides, I’m not going to be much help. You know you’re the outgoing, pretty one, and I’m the quiet, smart one.” She tried to keep a straight face but it was near impossible. If they weren’t at a professional event, Alana would have socked her in the arm.

“Aside from the fact that we’re both smart, it makes me sad that you undervalue yourself.”

“Please don’t get all Dr. Phil on me,” she groaned. “I wore the goddamn dress. You don’t get any other freebies tonight.”

“I repeat—that dress makes you look hot. I hope you get some.” Alana winked. “Sex is natural and healthy. You deserve to feel good about it again.”

“It’s not that easy.” She swirled her wineglass slowly and watched as the red wine clung to the edges. “What if I can’t find a guy who’s attracted to me?”

“Then the world is full of fucking morons and we may as well give up hope.”

“I love it when you swear. It’s like a Care Bear giving someone the finger.”

Alana’s laughter stopped short as her eyes locked onto someone across the room. Target acquired.

“Aha! A Third Planet designer. I’m going to charm him into talking to me.” She squeezed Quinn’s shoulder. “Then I’m going to take him down.”

Alana walked away, and Quinn stifled a laugh as several men almost gave themselves whiplash trying to keep their eyes on her. She could hardly blame them; Alana was perfect.

All. The. Damn. Time.

At one point it had intimidated Quinn; now it only baffled her. Maybe her friend wasn’t human...

Quinn backed up until something brushed against her leg, making her jump. The tree.

“It’s you and me, old friend,” she said, positive she looked like a nutcase for talking to a plant. “Want to get drunk?”

* * *

AIDEN ODELL EXCUSED himself from a conversation that was quickly heading south. Tinder hookups weren’t something he cared about. Frankly, he didn’t need an app to help him in that area of his life.

Besides, tonight was all about work. Tomorrow would be his first official day at Cobalt & Dane Security and he’d already been assigned a case. The head of Third Planet Studios—an up-and-coming game design company—was about to launch a new project, which up until recently had been kept quiet. But someone was leaking details.

He’d called in a favor to get access to the cocktail party in the hopes of picking up information. And he’d also booked a room at the hotel in case he needed to work into the night.

This was Aiden’s chance to show people what he was made of. Not only that, his best friend—the Dane in Cobalt & Dane—had been asking him to join his team for a year. It would be a turning point for Aiden, a fresh start. He’d be able to work at a place where his expertise was valued. No more handouts because of who his father was; no more free passes or special treatment.

And he was determined to hit the ground running. Success would be his, no matter what. Even if it meant giving up part of his weekend to do optional recon.

However, he’d picked up nothing but flimsy rumors all night. Definitely nothing that hinted at who was involved. Now, several hours later, he was tired of banal conversation and dead ends. The king-size bed in his hotel room called to him. It was late and he should get a good night’s sleep.

Aiden shrugged off the temptation. The only lead he had was a leggy blonde by the name of Alana Peterson, who apparently had some kind of grudge against the company. But his attempt to engage her in conversation had resulted in his being turned down flatter than a pancake.

A flash of color caught his attention. A woman stood next to a potted plant, her lithe figure encased in a little black dress that was hot enough to melt brain cells. But it was her hair that captivated him. It tumbled down to her waist, dark brown at the top and hot-pink through the lengths. She had a nose piercing and five earrings in one ear. He couldn’t help but linger; she was sex on a stick.

Plus, he’d seen her talking to Alana Peterson earlier. Were they friends? Or simply two women gravitating toward one another in a sea of men?

The woman turned to the potted plant, her lips moving. Was she talking to a tree?

A laugh bubbled up in his throat. She was definitely more appealing than a bunch of geeky men whining about online dating...even if she did appear to be talking to an inanimate object.

“What does your friend think of the party?” he asked, coming up beside her.

She jumped. “Excuse me?”

“Your friend.” He inclined his head toward the tree. “You were talking to him, weren’t you?”

“Her,” the woman corrected, her face totally neutral. “This is Leafina.”

“Nice to meet you, Leafina.” He grabbed a frond, shaking it up and down. “And you are?”

“Not a tree.” The corner of her lip twitched as she accepted his proffered hand.

Damn, she was gorgeous. Quirky, a little awkward, but sexy as all get-out.

“I’m Aiden, also not a tree. I’m not much of a partygoer, either.” Something warned him being overconfident wouldn’t work with her—hopefully, he’d read her right.

Her face softened. “Me, neither. Are you here by yourself?”

“Yeah, but this is a work thing.” He flagged down a passing waiter and grabbed a glass of red wine. “I’d rather be home, to tell you the truth.”

She made an adorable snorting noise, bobbing her head in agreement. “I got dragged here by a friend.”

“So you’re not a tech-head?”

“Oh, I am, but I do that on my own time.”

He sipped his drink. “Who’s your friend? I might know them.”

“Alana Peterson. She’s a tech reporter.”

Bingo. Not only were they friends, but they’d come here together. If Alana was involved in the leak, this woman might have heard about it.

“I’m familiar with the name, but I don’t think I’ve met her.”

“You would remember if you had.” A genuine smile tugged at her lips. “She’s quite a force.”

“Is she working on a story?”

“Yeah. She’s always fighting for better representation of women in the gaming industry,” the woman said, her voice tinted with pride. “She wants one of the game companies to commit to having a female lead in their games. Or at the very least she wants to find out why they haven’t had one to date.”

Ah, so that must be the grudge he’d heard about. “That game company wouldn’t happen to be Third Planet Studios, would it?”

She blinked. “How did you know that?”

“People talk. Her opinions have caused a stir, and not too many guys here seem to care about feminism.”

“Color me shocked.” Quinn rolled her eyes. “That only proves why we need people like Alana asking questions.”

“You’re absolutely right.” He breathed a sigh of relief.

He could recognize a lie when he heard one—he knew how to detect the sound of it, how to look for the telltale facial movements and tics. And how to do all of that without giving a thing away himself.

Thankfully, there was nothing but honesty in this enigmatic woman’s responses.

Which meant he could keep talking to her without the weight of suspicion hanging over them.

“Who do you work for?” she asked.

“Ricochet Studios,” he said, keeping to his script.

The plan was to tell people he was a game designer, some low-level minion at a big company where no one would be likely to call him out on the lie. He had enough knowledge to have a basic discussion about game design, and he was adept at manipulating conversation should anyone get close to sniffing him out.

His experience working for the FBI had equipped him to skate the truth with ease, not that he took any pleasure in it. But his job came first.

“The company who made ‘Slayer’s Faith’?” Her pink lips parted. “You worked on that game?”

The reverence in her voice was a huge boost to his ego, which was stupid since it meant nothing. “You play?”

“I clocked over a hundred hours on it. You don’t make it easy to get the platinum trophy.” She folded her arms, the action plumping up her breasts so that they pressed together in the deep V of the dress’s neckline. “It wasn’t quite as bad as finding all the pigeons in ‘GTA Four,’ mind you.”

A hot girl who knew her games? Heaven must have been smiling down on him. “Ah, you’re a completionist.”

“All the best gamers are.”

He took a slow sip of his wine. “What’s your favorite game?”

“That’s like asking me to pick a favorite limb.” Her dark brows creased.

“Chicken.” He laughed when she narrowed her gaze at him.

The diamond in her nose winked in the light and she tapped a finger to her cheek. The chipped black polish on her fingernails seemed at odds with the hotter-than-sin dress and sexy heels. But he enjoyed the combo; a little bit of contradiction made things more exciting...like there were secrets to be uncovered. A real person under the gloss.

“‘Slayer’s Faith,’” she said, nodding as if convincing herself. “Followed closely by ‘Mario Kart.’”

“What about Leafina? What does she play?” He looked at the potted plant again and a laugh burst from the pink-haired woman’s lips.

“Can I tell you a secret?” she said, her hazel eyes glinting.

“Sure.”

She leaned in close to his ear and cupped a hand around her mouth. “Leafina is kind of boring.”

Her hot breath on his neck flipped an “on” switch deep inside him and filled his whole body with energy. Damn.

He turned toward her, his nose inches from her cheek. “What did you say your name was?”

He realized then that she had hardly any makeup on. Her lashes were dark but not artificial, leaving the unusual green and gold flecks in her eyes to stand out on their own. Her pupils were wide, black.

A delicate blush spread out across her cheeks. “You can call me Pink.”

“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” He took a step closer until the space between them shrank to mere inches. “You’re playing hard to get.”

“I’m worth it.”

He didn’t doubt her for a second.

2

QUINN SIPPED HER WINE, the need for a little Dutch courage outweighing her dislike of the taste. The man in front of her was hot with a capital H—curly black hair, a sharp jaw and blue eyes that burned right through her...not to mention a pair of soft jeans that molded to his thighs like a dream—and she was flirting with him.

She didn’t flirt. Ever.

“I bet you’re a whiz at ‘Super Mario,’” Aiden said.

“What makes you say that?” She shifted on the high heels Alana had lent her, wishing that she was wearing something more comfortable.

Having a gorgeous guy stand so close to her was making her body haywire enough; she didn’t need to compound the effect with precariously tall heels. All that talk of sex and orgasms with Alana had her wound up tighter than a coil. Could this guy be the one to help her get back in the proverbial game?

She didn’t know him from a bar of soap...which was kind of the point. One-night stands didn’t end in betrayal because there were no expectations for tomorrow.

“You’ve got good gamer hands,” he said.

“Really?” She swallowed, curling her fingers into a fist to hide the chipped polish that she hadn’t had time to remove.

“Yeah, I can tell. Those are magic hands.”

She laughed and shook her head, hoping her face didn’t convey the electric thrill he’d given her. How was it possible for her to be so attracted to him so quickly? In the past it had taken her months of chatting to someone online before she would agree to meet and, even then, it would take several dates before she’d be comfortable enough to even fool around. Until she’d dated her ex...

She shuddered. No man had gotten close to her since. But two years had passed; she’d recovered. Moved on. And her libido had definitely returned.

“So tell me, Pink. What do you do for a living?”

Quinn took a swallow of her wine, stalling. She didn’t want to admit she was a lowly IT support officer, especially not when his job was so exciting. But she didn’t want to lie and say she was a tech-security expert, either, because that job wasn’t hers...yet.

“I, uh...” She swirled the wine in her glass. “I’m actually trying to figure out where I’m going.”

“That’s sufficiently vague,” Aiden said, laughing. “I get it. You don’t have any reason to trust me.”

“Don’t take it personally. I don’t trust Leafina, either,” she quipped.

“I’m going to be bold.” He drained the remainder of his wine and handed the glass off to a passing waiter. “I like you, Pink. You’re kind of fascinating.”

“Kind of?” Heat crawled up her cheeks as she looked out at the crowd, her eyes searching for Alana. She wanted to signal to her friend that she was about to make good on her plan.

“Yeah. You’re also kind of hot.” His words smoothed over her like a caress. “Okay, that’s a total lie. You’re insanely hot.”

“And you’re kind of smooth.” Her voice came out far steadier than she’d expected. “I bet that works on a lot of girls.”

“Is that your way of saying it’s not going to work on you?”

The last third of her wine mocked her. She brought the glass to her lips and finished it in one smooth gulp. “I didn’t say that.”

“You want me to work for it?”

“Damn straight.”

His arm snaked around her waist, drawing her closer. “That I can do. How about I take you for a proper drink?”

Could she really do it? Part of her resisted the idea of going for a drink with a man she didn’t know, but her attraction to Aiden sizzled, and no warning bells had sounded thus far.

“I’m a red belt in Tae Kwon Do.” She tilted her head up to him. “And I know a lot of scary people.”

“Pink, I’m not going to do anything that you don’t want me to do. If at any point you decide to call it a night, I will organize a cab and see that you get home safely.” His breath was warm against her neck as he lowered his head. The scent of aftershave and wine mingled in her nostrils. “If you don’t want to leave... I’m more than happy to oblige there, too.”

A delicious shiver ran up the length of her spine. “I’ll take you up on that drink.”

“Do you need to tell Alana where we’re going?”

“I’ll text her.”

Aiden’s hand found the small of her back as he escorted her out of the cocktail party and into the lobby of the hotel. Alana was nowhere to be seen. Her friend would understand, but she texted her anyway.

“Tell her my name is Aiden Odell, room two-thirty-two,” he said. “We’ll be having a drink in the Lion Lounge if she wants to come find you.”

Typing with her thumbs, Quinn sent the details through to Alana. Slipping the phone into her bag, she swallowed down any reservations and allowed Aiden to guide her toward the dimly lit bar on the other side of the hotel lobby.

Two hours later they were sitting on a leather sofa, surrounded by soft lighting designed for intimacy. They were also several Scotches down and in midargument about who was a more avid gamer.

“I got my first console at six years old,” Quinn said, gesturing with her glass, the last bit of liquid swishing precariously up the side. “I’ve kept every single one since then.”

“Console collecting does not make you a master gamer.” Aiden shook his head, his dark curls looking slightly wild and out of control.

Her fingers ached to run through them, to tug them until his head was right where she wanted it. “If you had one in your hotel room, I would prove to you right now that I could kick your ass in any game.”

“That’s a bold statement, Pink.” He leaned forward and braced his forearms on his thighs, nursing a crystal tumbler in both hands. “But it’s complete crap.”

“It is not!” She pursed her lips and tried to be mad. But truth was, she loved the banter and the fact that he challenged her. Most male gamers wouldn’t even bother; they’d assume she wasn’t their equal and move on.

“It is.” He rolled the glass between his hands, warming the last of his drink. “Because if I took you up to my room, the only thing you’d be playing would be me.”

Her sex clenched and she pressed her thighs together, failing to dull the throbbing. “How can you be certain I’m not going to thank you for the drinks and then leave?”

“I can’t.” He grinned, a wicked glint lighting up his vibrant eyes. “But if you’re half as attracted to me as I am to you...well, then it’s going to be fun.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

He leaned back in his seat, finished off his drink and set it down on the mirror-finish table in front of them. “So fill me in. You don’t have to tell me your name or what you do. Or anything serious.”

“A random fact, then?”

“Yeah, something you think other people wouldn’t care about.” He rolled up the sleeves of his cotton shirt, exposing arms smattered with dark hair.

His denim-clad thigh sat inches from hers, and heat pulsed between them. Over the past couple of hours, she’d kept her space and he hadn’t pushed, hadn’t tried to make a direct move. But his words and actions were heavy with intent, each naughty suggestion pushing her further and further toward deciding to go upstairs with him.

“I’m an only child,” she said, figuring that such a benign detail was probably safe to share. “And I prefer it that way.”

“You never wanted a brother or a sister?”

“I don’t like sharing my toys.” She laughed. “I do things my way, on my terms.”

“Yeah, I got that impression.” His eye raked over her. “I have a brother and a sister.”

The darkness in his tone made her pause, but the friendly smile sprang back into place. “So how do you know Alana? Are you a tech reporter, too?”

She shook her head. “We went to school together. When she started her site, I offered to review games for her.”

“I bet she gets a lot of inside information.”

“Yeah, she does. Lots of companies send her prerelease stuff, and she’s always getting invited to parties like this.” Quinn smirked. “Then she drags me along and bails when a story comes up.”

Aiden paused and took a swig of his Scotch. “I’m surprised she’s not looking into the game engine Third Planet is building. There’s been a lot of buzz about that lately.”

Game engine? “I haven’t heard anything about that.”

“Really?” He cocked his head. “Apparently, it’s going to revolutionize the way games are designed.”

“I guess she would be interested in that.”

A dimple formed in his cheek as he smiled. “Okay, that’s enough nerd talk from me.”

“Don’t stop on my account.” She held up a hand and laughed. “I’m all for nerd talk.”

“What if I want to talk about you?” His eyes raked over her, hot and steady, lighting a path from her cheeks straight down to her sex.

“I don’t really enjoy talking about myself. Call it a lesson learned.”

His lips pressed into a line. “Sounds like you’ve got a bad story there.”

Was he genuinely concerned? Probably not. After all, they didn’t really know each other. She hadn’t told him her real name, where she worked or lived...but those were her rules. A one-night stand would be fine because she could call it quits when she wanted, and Aiden couldn’t come after her if he didn’t have her name.

“I’m a big girl. I can look after myself.” She squared her shoulders. “So, two siblings, huh?”

“Yeah, but I’m not good at sharing, either.”

“Maybe we won’t be compatible, then,” she said with mock seriousness. “We both hate sharing. We’re both competitive.”

“I’ve always found competition to be a healthy thing.” The words came out rough, low.

“Even where sex is concerned?” She bit her lip.

“Especially where sex is concerned.” His arms slid along the back of the sofa, and Quinn scooted closer to him until their knees were touching.

“I’m going to be bold,” she said, echoing his words from earlier. “I like you. You’re kind of fascinating.”

“Kind of?” he asked as his head dipped, his lips inches from hers.

“Yeah, kind of.”

They both hovered for a moment, drawing out the sizzling anticipation before he slanted his mouth over hers, claiming her. He tasted of Scotch and smelled of heaven and temptation. A tremor ran through her body as his tongue met hers, gentler than she expected. Teasing. Inviting.

Scorching heat seared her from the inside out, melting her into his embrace. His hand slid up her neck to cup her jaw. Then he tilted her head back, deepening their kiss. Even though they’d never kissed before, he moved as if he knew her. As if he understood her.

Her hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him harder against her. His hot breath whispered across her skin as he trailed kisses along her jaw, stopping at the shell of her ear.

“Yes,” she said, her breath stuttering in and out. “My answer is yes.”

“I didn’t ask anything.” The corner of his mouth quirked.

“Your kiss did.” She released his shirt and stood, holding her hand out to him.

* * *

AIDEN HELD PINK close to his body as they walked through the hotel lobby and into the bay of elevators. She interlaced her fingers with his, her small hand gripping him tightly. He couldn’t remember the last time any kiss had made him feel this much anticipation.

Guilt churned in his gut that he hadn’t been completely honest with her. He didn’t have a problem with lying on the job—it was often a requirement, in fact—but this wasn’t work. And she wasn’t an asset or a suspect. Judging by the blank stare she’d given him when he’d asked about the gaming engine, she didn’t know anything. So taking her up to his room was purely personal, and he wanted to make that clear.

The elevator dinged and they filed in behind two other couples. Keeping himself from touching her was torture, especially when Pink leaned back against him, her sweet behind fitting directly against his crotch.

Stifling a groan, he thrust his hips slightly to press into her.

She looked over her shoulder, a sly smile on her lips. “Competitive and impatient.”

“I never said I was perfect.”

Mercifully, the elevator stopped and they were first out. Laughter filtered into the hallway from one of the rooms, mixing with the soothing classical music playing through the hotel speakers. The whole scene was calm and in complete contradiction to the arousal raging inside him.

“Hey, there’s something I should tell you,” he said as they walked hand in hand down the corridor toward his hotel room.

“You’re not married, are you?” Their steps were muffled by the plush carpeting. “Or a serial killer?”

“No,” he said with a laugh. “But I’m—”

“I don’t want to know.” They stopped outside his hotel room door and she held up a hand. “So long as you’re not cheating on anyone by being with me and you have no intention of hurting me, I don’t care about the rest.”

He hesitated and uncertainty flickered in her eyes. “We’re fine on both counts. You have my word.”

“Good. Because we’re both aware what this is, and we don’t need to be coy about it.” Her voice wavered but he wasn’t about to call her out on it. “It’s sex. I don’t need any more detail than that.”

As much as he would have preferred to come clean there and then, she’d made her case. If she only wanted sex, then that was fine by him. More than fine, in fact.

“Fair enough.” He swiped the key card and pushed open the door.

It wasn’t a fancy suite—playing the role of a lowly tech employee meant skipping on the extravagant hotel room—but the large king-size bed would be more than enough. Not to mention the double shower that had been a pleasant surprise when he’d checked in.

He imagined Pink with water streaming over her naked body, and the picture was enough to make whatever blood was left in his head rush south. His cock strained painfully against his fly.

“We can still stop at any time if you’re not comfortable,” he said as she surveyed the room, an unreadable expression on her face.

As desperate as he was to touch her, he needed to hear her say she was in.

“I’m comfortable.” She nodded, stepping toward him. A shy smile played on her lips. “But I’d be more comfortable if you got me out of this dress.”

“I can definitely help with that.” He grabbed her hand and planted a soft kiss on her lips before turning her around. A gold zipper ran from between her shoulder blades to the sweet curve above her ass. She reached around to sweep her long hair over one shoulder, exposing the delicate line of her neck. His lips gravitated to the spot, as if pulled by a magnetic force. The scent of her creamy skin—soapy and clean—teased him as his hands smoothed down the lengths of her arms.

A shudder ran through her and goose bumps rippled across her skin as he gently scraped his teeth along her shoulder. He tugged on her zipper, drawing it down with deliberate slowness. One didn’t rush a decadent dessert; you savored each and every bite.

And that was exactly what he intended to do with Pink.

The V of bare skin deepened, and soon it was obvious that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Lord help him, this woman was hot enough to start a wildfire.

“You still breathing back there?” she asked, her tone dancing with laughter.

“Just admiring the view.” He pushed the dress from her body and it slid to the floor.

She stepped out of the puddle of fabric, kicking it to the side. Bright pink panties barely covered the gentle curves of her ass and hips.

“Are those ninjas on your underwear?” he asked, spinning her around.

“They might be.” She ran her palms up the front of his chest until they curled over his shoulders, pressing him down. “Perhaps you should take a closer inspection.”

He kissed his way down her stomach until he was on his knees, his lips at the waistband of her panties. “Hmm, they do appear to have ninjas on them. You know what this means, right?”

Her nails dragged against his scalp as she threaded her fingers through his hair. “What?”

“They’re likely to disappear any second.” Hooking a finger under the elastic band, he tugged the fabric down.

Pink-colored cotton pooled at her feet, the bright shade a sharp contrast to the high gloss of her black leather pumps. Holy. Hell.

He planted a palm on her thigh to keep her steady as she stepped out of the underwear and then the heels. “See, gone.”

“Like magic.” Her voice was rough and husky, the sound fanning his desire.

He felt pretty damn magical indeed. Taking a gorgeous woman to bed was exactly the antidote he needed for the recent negativity in his life. He’d pour all that pent-up frustration and tension into pleasuring Pink out of her ever-loving mind. If she didn’t scream his name until her voice gave out, then he would consider the night a failure.

“You look so serious,” she said, running her fingers through his hair.

He kissed her hip then smoothed his palm up the inside of her thigh as if he could use his touch to commit her dimensions to memory. Everything about her was delicate, and yet she had an inner strength and conviction that he found utterly irresistible. This was a woman who did things on her own terms.

“That’s because I’m seriously hot for you.” He pressed his lips to her sex in a gentle kiss—a prelude to what he intended to do next.

She gasped and tightened her grip on his hair, flipping on every damn switch in his body. His cock twitched in his pants.

“Hmm...” The sound washed over him from above. “Really?”

Her tone might have been playful, but he was serious as all hell. “Absolutely.”

He ran his tongue up the seam of her sex, parting her folds until he found the swollen bud of her clit. Gripping her thigh with one hand, he used his thumb to part her, giving him the access he wanted.

“Oh, Aiden.”

Hearing his name drove him on. He lapped at her with his tongue, insistent, demanding.

All sense of restraint and slow enjoyment flew out the window as he relentlessly pursued her orgasm. Drawing her clit between his lips, he flicked it with his tongue and tremors racked her body.

“I can’t... I can’t...”

“Yes.” He punctuated his words with hot kisses. “You. Can.”

Her thighs trembled in his grasp, her hips tilting forward as she rubbed herself shamelessly against his mouth.

“I’m close,” she gasped.

He parted her legs and touched his fingers to her sex, sliding one digit slowly inside. A shudder ran through her body, and a string of incoherent words dissolved into a moan as she tipped over the edge, her sex pulsing against his lips.

Her cries bounced off the hotel room walls and she sagged forward, her knees hitting his chest. He gathered her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.

A sigh escaped her lips as she lolled her head back against his biceps, her eyes fluttering. “If you’d told me you could do that with your mouth, I might not have made you work so hard to get me up here.”

“I wasn’t going to bribe you with orgasms.”

“You should have.” A blissful smile pulled at her lips. “We wasted two hours drinking.”

“How about we make up for it now?” he suggested, one knee sinking into the mattress as he lowered her to the bed.

“I don’t have time for your rhetorical questions.” A laugh rumbled in her throat and she reached up, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him down roughly. “Come here.”

3

QUINN CLOSED HER eyes as Aiden came down over her, his weight pressing her into the soft mattress. It was like being trapped between a fluffy cloud and a god. A sex god, if that orgasm was anything to go on.

Her body hummed, hovering in some crazy limbo between roaring hunger and total satisfaction. It had been a while since she’d come that hard, and his mouth was so, so, so much better than her trusty vibrator.

Cupping the back of her head, he slid his tongue across her lips, opening her. Allowing her to taste herself.

She moaned into him and heat fanned out across her chest as he moved down her body. There was something graceful about his movement, something sleek and elegant and primal. He captured a nipple with his lips and sucked. Hard.

“Oh.” Words escaped her as he laved her breast, tugging, licking, worshipping.

“What do you want, Pink?”

“I want... Ahhhhh.”

Colors danced behind her closed eyelids as he pushed his hips against hers, his length rubbing over her still-sensitive sex. Denim rasped over her soft skin, the steely hardness making her pulse race.

“Say it,” he growled against her breast, his teeth working her into a frenzy. “Tell me.”

“I want you inside me,” she gasped.

“No.”

Her head snapped up, eyes unblinking. If she didn’t have him now, she might explode... At the very least she’d wear her vibrator out trying to make up for not having him. “What do you mean?”

“I still don’t know your name.” He released his grip, bringing his head up to lock that electric gaze straight on her.

“I’m Pink,” she stammered, the haze of excitement fogging her mind.

“Your real name.” A dark curl fell over his forehead and he brushed it aside.

“What does it matter?” She pushed herself up and reached for the top button of his shirt. “It won’t change how incredible this is going to be.”

“I remember the name of every girl I’ve ever slept with, and if this is going to be as incredible as I think it will be...” He paused.

Flattening her palms against his chest, she pushed him back until he sat on his heels. “Yes?”

“I want to know what name to moan in your ear when I’m inside you.”

Quinn’s hands trembled as she undid the buttons on his shirt. Dark hair dusted his chest, tapering to a V down the hard plane of his stomach and dipping below the waistband of his jeans.

She sucked in a breath and tried to steady herself. She never lost her wits, ever. Aiden, however, was doing crazy things to her. Crazy, astoundingly pleasurable things.

“It’s Quinn,” she said, her hands working at the button on his fly.

He placed his hand over hers, warm and reassuring. “Quinn.”

“Are you going to tell me it’s a beautiful name?” she quipped, sarcasm her natural and comfortable shield.

“I doubt saying the expected thing would win me any favors with you.” He moved her hand away and stood, dragging the zipper on his fly down.

“It wouldn’t.”

As he stripped himself of his jeans and briefs, Quinn couldn’t help but stare. She knew more than anyone that computer geeks didn’t always fit into the stereotypes or clichés. But she hadn’t expected Aiden to be so...powerful.

Muscular thighs met trim hips, the hard jut of his cock making her blood fizz. God, she wanted him like nothing else.

“Wow,” she whispered.

His eyes crinkled as he laughed. “Thanks for the ego boost.”

Heat flared through her, filling her neck and cheeks. “I mean...uh...”

“You can stop at wow.” He brushed the hair from her face. “I’m definitely okay with that.”

She touched her fingers to the tip of him, hesitating before wrapping them around his shaft. He made a guttural noise at the back of his throat that urged her on. She slid her hand up and down, stroking him.

“Quinn,” he moaned and pushed his hips forward into her grip. “That’s so damn good.”

Emboldened by his praise, she parted her lips and leaned forward, drawing him into her mouth. The head of his cock slid along her tongue and she tasted a faint saltiness. Eyes closed, she bobbed her head down as far as she could go.

At the same time she ran her hand up and down his thigh, his hairs tickling her palm. The scent of earthy maleness danced in her nose.

“That’s enough.” His voice came out strangled. Edgy.

She eased him out of her mouth and swirled her tongue over the tip of him. “What if I’m not ready to stop?”

He grunted, sweeping the hair over her shoulder and easing her back. “I’m not going to last more than five seconds if you keep that up.”

“You’re not the only one who’s skilled with their mouth.”

“Damn straight.” He scooped up his jeans and dug a foil packet from his wallet, then tore it open in one smooth motion and rolled the condom down on himself.

His arm slid around her waist and he eased them down to the bed, his knees nudging her thighs apart. Warmth enveloped her as he pressed her into the mattress, the weight of him deliciously comforting. His lips found the crook of her collarbone, and she looped her arms around his neck.

“You’re so beautiful.” He planted a hot, openmouthed kiss on her lips.

“I thought you weren’t going to say what was expected,” she murmured, tugging on his lower lip with her teeth.

His cock pressed at her entrance, rubbing against her in a way that made her whole body ache with desperation. “I’m serious. You’re absolutely incredible and unique.”

She buried her face against his neck, unsure of how to react to the compliment. It was one thing for her to joke about herself, but another thing entirely for him to mean it. Instead of responding, she sucked on his skin, rolling her hips up against his. Showing him what she wanted instead of telling him.

He entered her in one fluid movement, the shock of his thickness pushing all the air from her lungs. A brief flash of pain gave way to liquid heat, honeyed and soothing and all-encompassing.

“God, Quinn.” He gasped against her hair. “You’re so tight. So perfect.”

“Take me. Please.”

And he did. With abandon.

Her nails dug into his back as he pumped into her, his hips knocking against hers, each stroke brushing her sex and pushing her closer to the peak. She grabbed his face in her hands and forced his mouth down to hers, meeting him thrust for thrust.

“So good,” he murmured, his eyes squeezed shut. “Oh, Quinn. Christ!”

An orgasm crashed into her as he plunged deep, his body trembling against hers. Their names mixed together, passed between each other’s lips as they fell into shared oblivion.

* * *

QUINN’S EYELIDS FLUTTERED OPEN. She tried to push the hair from her face and realized she couldn’t move. Not an inch. She hadn’t had that much to drink at the party...had she?

The bed shifted and something hard pressed against her ass, an arm tightening around her. Then it came flooding back: talking to Aiden, drinks at the bar followed by a string of life-changing orgasms.

Shit.

She’d done it...she’d actually had sex without freaking out.

And she’d slept through the night. When had that happened last? Normally, it would take an hour or two of “Slayer’s Faith” before she could even contemplate crawling into bed, and then she’d stick her earbuds in, tossing fitfully to some bullshit relaxation track until sleep finally claimed her. Temporarily, anyway.

The last time she’d slept all the way through without waking was... She couldn’t remember.

His arm was a deadweight over her midsection. His thighs lined hers and his crotch cradled her ass. Apparently, what they did last night hadn’t worn him out...not if the steel rod digging into her was anything to go on.

Easing herself out of Aiden’s grip, she shuffled to the edge of the bed and grabbed her phone. Three missed calls from Alana and a handful of texts. Oh, and it was 6:00 a.m.

Double shit!

She had to get across the bridge to her Brooklyn apartment so she could change for work. A subway ride of shame wasn’t exactly appealing, but a cab might not be quick enough. Biting down on her lip, her mind spun, searching for a solution.

Moving as gingerly as possible, she swung her legs out of the bed and stood. There was no time for awkward morning-after conversation. Besides, she’d been very clear what she’d wanted from him.

Aiden’s resting form could have been used for a mattress commercial; the hint of a smile on his lips and the messy splay of his dark curls made him look angelic.

But there sure as hell hadn’t been anything angelic about last night.

Quinn pressed the heel of her hand to the throbbing spot between her eyes. She needed to get out. Now.

Tiptoeing across the room, she gathered her panties and her dress and slipped both on as stealthily as she could. Alana’s patent leather stilettos gleamed beside the bed, still standing upright from when she’d discarded them last night. Heat surged through her as she remembered exactly what had happened after she’d shed them, her knees wobbling at the memory.

Holding the heels in one hand and her purse in the other, she glanced at Aiden. He mumbled in his sleep, rolling onto his back. The sheet came up over his hips, outlining an impressive erection. Swallowing, she let her eyes linger for a moment before sneaking for the door.

Part of her wanted to scribble down her number and leave it for him to find, but a relationship wasn’t in her plan. She had a promotion to chase and a personal life to sort out before she inflicted her problems on someone else...and her gut told her that seeing Aiden again would be like trying to take drugs without getting addicted.

You both agreed, no strings. You don’t owe him anything.

Quinn opened the hotel room door just enough to squeeze through, and she held her breath as it closed behind her.

As she walked barefoot to the elevator, her phone buzzed, Alana’s face flashing on the screen.

“Hello?”

“You slept with someone?” Alana’s high-pitched squeal ricocheted in Quinn’s head, making her flinch.

“Jesus, Alana. Can you not scream?” She shook her head, trying to clear the ringing in her ears. “And you say that with such amazement. I wasn’t a virgin, you know.”

She stopped at the elevator and jabbed the call button repeatedly, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she waited. Hopefully, the early hour would mean she wouldn’t have to walk past many people in a dress that was barely decent for a cocktail party, let alone breakfast.

“I know but it’s exciting. You’re getting past your...”

“Mental deformities?”

Pause. “Trust concerns.”

Quinn rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that sounds a whole lot better.”

“So who is he?”

“A designer for Ricochet Studios.” Quinn drew her bottom lip between her teeth. “Kind of cool that I slept with a guy who worked on ‘Slayer’s Faith.’”

Alana snorted. “I could make so many jokes right now.”

“Don’t. And, before you ask, no, I’m not going to see him again.”

Alana sighed. “I get it. Baby steps. Where are you, anyway?”

“I’m still at the hotel.”

“Me, too.” A sly laugh came through the line. “You’re not the only dirty birdie here. I’ll meet you downstairs in a few minutes and then we can head to my place.”

Alana’s was only a short walk away. She could shower and change and be at the office in forty-five minutes tops. “Any chance I can borrow something to wear to work?”

“Of course.”

Quinn stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby. Mercifully, the doors closed and no one else had joined her. “See you in a minute.”

Dropping the phone into her bag, she sagged against the elevator. Drained. Her whole body thrummed with satisfaction but a monster coffee was required to put her in good form. The new guy was starting today, and she would make damn sure her manager knew what a mistake he’d made not choosing her.

Whoever this guy was, he would not show her up.

4

“DAMN ALANA. DOES SHE not own a single pair of pants?” Quinn muttered under her breath as she walked into the Cobalt & Dane head office, tugging on the hem of another one of her friend’s dresses.

Thankfully, this little black number covered her more comfortably, although the hem was still above her knees. She’d thrown on a pair of white high-top sneakers and a denim jacket in the hopes of dressing the outfit down. However, judging by the raised eyebrows aimed in her direction, she’d failed.

“You can’t sit here.” Owen Fletcher, her colleague and friendly office pain in the ass, dropped down into her chair before she had a chance to dump her satchel there. “This desk belongs to a grumpy pink-haired lady who never wears skirts.”

Smirking, she sipped her giant latte. “That’s got to be the first time you’ve ever called me a lady.”

“Seriously, what’s with the dress? It’s...weird.” He scrunched up his nose as if she’d walked into the office wearing a trash can.

“Can’t I wear a dress without getting hassled?” She tugged on the hem again.

The tight fit was already bugging her, not to mention the fact that she’d had to go commando because she hadn’t brought a fresh pair of underwear with her. How did women dress this way? Give her a baggy top and a pair of jeans any day.

“Please come to work in a ‘Space Invaders’ T-shirt tomorrow.” Owen got out of her seat and held it out so she could sit down. “You’re messing with my view of the world.”

“Your view of the world?”

“Yes, the things I need to believe in order to know the universe is right. Taxi drivers are crazy, the Mets are the greatest team on earth and you dress like a teenage boy.”

“I guess I should feel honored that I feature in the world law according to Owen Fletcher.” She swung her chair around to face her desk. “Now go away. I have work to do.”

“No dress tomorrow, promise?” Owen raked a hand through his blond hair and grinned.

“Promise.” She shooed him away with one hand and typed her password into her laptop.

Already her inbox was filled to bursting with banal requests. Printer errors, missing cables, password resets and setup for the new hire. Ugh.

She couldn’t take this job much longer before she’d go nuts. The years she’d spent at university could not be wasted on constantly advising people to restart their computers.

“Quinn?” Her manager, Rhys, came out of his office and over to her desk.

“Morning, boss,” she said, pushing up from her chair. “Any chance you might be free to catch up today? There’s something I’d like to discuss.”

“Hold that thought. I have a special project for you to work on.” He motioned for her to follow him through the IT department. “Bring your laptop.”

Great. What’ll it be this time, a server upgrade? Someone broke a macro? A busted scanner?

She opened the cable lock that secured her laptop to the desk and tucked the device under her arm. Scooping up her coffee with her free hand, she hurried after him.

“So I was thinking about the position you applied for recently,” he said.

“Oh. Really?”

Rhys nodded to the receptionist as they walked past her and into an empty conference room where they usually met clients. “I know you were disappointed you didn’t get it.”

“No shit,” she muttered as she pulled up a chair and placed her laptop and coffee onto the table.

He held up a hand as he usually did when Quinn was about to start ranting. “We had a better candidate.”

“Did you really drag me out here to reinforce the idea I’m not good enough?” she asked, heavily ladling on the sarcasm.

He folded his arms over his chest and took the seat across from her. The wall clock ticked loudly in the pause, the sound grating on her nerves. She inspected the remains of her black polish and made a mental note to locate the bottle of remover she kept in the IT department cupboards.

A smile tugged at the corner of his full lips. “Now, if you could dial back the sulky-teenager act for a minute, I’d like to talk about the job I have for you.”

“A job?” She tried not to appear too excited at the possibility that they’d already realized she was promotion-worthy without her having to convince them.

“I want you to work a case with the new hire.”

If she’d been able to pop Rhys’s head with sheer mind power at that moment, she would have. “What?”

“We’ve assigned him to a case involving a leak at a game design company, and we thought it would also be a great opportunity for you to stretch your wings.” He folded his hands in front of him on top of the table.

“What exactly will ‘stretching my wings’ involve?” She chewed on the inside of her cheek.

“It will mean playing nice in the sandpit, for one.” Rhys looked at her pointedly.

“And?” She kept her face neutral, undecided how she felt about this opportunity. It was what she wanted...kind of. However, being forced to work with the guy who’d gotten the job she deserved was not at all her cup of tea.

“Getting a positive outcome. We’re briefing the case this morning, so you’ll be up to speed on all the important details.”

“Can’t I work with one of the other guys? What about Jin or Owen?” She drummed her fingertips against her bare thigh. “Surely they’d do a better job with this case since they already know how we do things around here.”

“No.” Rhys turned his phone over in his hands and swiped at the screen. “This is the opportunity I’m giving you. Take it or leave it.”

“Since when do you play hardball?”

“Since you decided to argue with me. I like having you on my team, Quinn, but damn, you’re difficult sometimes.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Now, are you on board or not?”

She rolled the proposal around in her mind. Her gut told her she’d be stupid to turn it down. Rhys was trying to make things right and, given he was the head of IT, she’d still be working for him.

“Who’s going to cover my job while I’m on this case?”

He shrugged. “We’ll get a temp in.”

“Will you let them sit at my desk?” She shuddered at the thought of someone touching her things.

“Yes. Where else would they sit?”

Crossing one leg over the other, she leaned back in her chair. “Do I get a raise?”

“We’ll talk about it if the assignment goes well.”

“Do I get an office?”

Rhys laughed as if she’d asked for a life-size statue made of marshmallows to be erected in her honor. “No office. What you get is the opportunity to do something different, which I believe is what you’ve been hounding me for. Do it well and then you can negotiate with me.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” He stifled a smile as he checked the clock. “You’re not going to chase the new guy away?”

“If he’s chased away so easily, he probably isn’t a good fit for our team,” she said. “So, when do I start?”

“Right now.” Rhys motioned to the conference room door as Jin, one of the senior security consultants, held the door open for the person behind him.

“Hey, Quinn, glad you could join us.”

She opened her mouth to respond but the words evaporated right off her tongue as the new hire walked through the open door.

The intensity of his blue gaze hit her immediately, followed by the sharp cut of his jaw, the tangle of dark hair and broad shoulders. Magic hands...hands that had been on her all night long.

Jin closed the door behind them. “This is Aiden Odell, our newest team member.”

* * *

AIDEN THANKED HIS lucky stars the FBI had trained him to be calm in a crisis. And finding out Quinn was his new colleague definitely counted as a crisis. Not only because he’d been pissed that she’d sneaked out without so much as a “so long, thanks for the laughs,” but also that she’d now see him as a liar and a fraud.

In his defense, he’d tried to come clean but she’d shut him up with her “this is just sex” spiel. Though, judging by the daggers she was shooting at him now, she must have forgotten that little nugget of information.

“Quinn Dellinger is our IT support guru, but given her unique skill set, we’ve assigned her to this case,” Jin said, motioning for Aiden to take a seat at the conference table. “She studied game design at university and has strong ties with the gaming community.”

“Nice to meet you,” Aiden said, sticking out his hand.

She let it hang there for an excruciatingly awkward moment, only accepting the gesture when Jin cleared his throat. “You, too,” she finally said.

“I believe you’ve already met Rhys?” Jin continued and Aiden nodded. “For your benefit, Quinn, Aiden will be working in the security consultant pool with myself, Owen and the others. But he’s mainly going to focus on the information and cybersecurity jobs, so he’ll be reporting to Rhys.”

Quinn looked as though she’d eaten something sour. But Jin proceeded as if nothing was wrong and ran them through the assignment with Third Planet Studios. There wasn’t a whole lot of extra information than the briefing Aiden had been given when he accepted the position at Cobalt & Dane, but the extra run-through was welcome since his brain was still clogged with memories of Quinn’s naked body.

She sat across the table from him, scowling, and the sexy little stone in her nose glinted in the light from the window behind her. Her brown-and-pink hair was piled on top of her head, a few strands escaping messily at the sides. What would happen if he withdrew the pin holding her hair in place? He already knew how silky and soft it would feel against his palms, or swishing over his chest as she rode him, her small breasts bouncing with each thrust—

“Aiden?” Jin peered at him from the head of the table. “Did we lose you there for a minute?”

You can’t blow it on day one, dumb ass. Pay attention to the job, not the girl.

“Just thinking about the case.”

Jin nodded. “It would be great if you could give Quinn a quick intro to your background before we dive into the approach I’ve put together.”

He swallowed, trying to ignore how intently Quinn was staring at him. No doubt she was eager to hear what he did for a living, since it was clear he wasn’t a game designer, as he’d told her.

“I’ve been with the FBI since I graduated. I started out in their police force, primarily working in the New York headquarters.” He sucked in a breath, trying not to let the memories get to him. “Then, two years ago, I moved into the Cyber Security Action team. I worked on a number of high-profile cases there, including taking down a prominent financial crime ring.”

“Why did you leave the police side of things?” Quinn asked, her tone more than a little accusatory.

“I no longer met the physical requirements for the job.” He touched his ear. “I was involved in a shoot-out inside a building, and I suffered acoustic trauma in my left ear. I failed the audiometer test.”

She uncrossed her arms and fiddled with the hem of her dress. “Oh.”

“I’m partially deaf in one ear and...it’s permanent.”

He remembered delivering the news to his father. Rather than asking how Aiden was coping with the change, his dad had immediately set about ordering the FBI to provide him a new job somewhere. Anywhere.

The perks of your father being the head of Intelligence. Too bad he’d never put that kind of effort into being a good dad.

“But my injury won’t affect my job here,” Aiden said. “I do my best work with computers and one-on-one interviews.”

Quinn shifted in her seat. Not many people knew about his hearing problem outside his family and the people he’d worked with at the FBI. Certainly no one he’d taken to bed. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of it, but he didn’t draw attention to it, either. He didn’t want sympathy, and he certainly didn’t want people thinking he was weak.

So he’d learned to cope, always taking a seat first—as he’d done with Quinn last night—so he could use his good ear. In groups or in noisy venues, he relied on his other senses for context. He read lips, analyzed gestures, listened to pitch and tone if the words themselves were hard to make out. For the most part, he could be around someone every day and he or she wouldn’t realize anything was wrong with him.

But even his father hadn’t been able to bend the FBI Police’s hearing rules. The audiometer test was an unforgiving SOB.

“Thanks, Aiden.” Jin nodded and fired up the large screen at the head of the room.

An hour later they were all up to speed with the plan for the Third Planet Studios assignment. Quinn would go undercover as a game designer—since she was the only one on the team who’d actually studied game design and had enough knowledge to pass muster with the employees—and Aiden would go in as himself. He would rattle the cage by interviewing staff and asking questions. Meanwhile, Quinn would keep her ear to the ground to observe the fallout.

They would work together. Closely.

“Is this your first time going undercover?” Aiden asked Quinn as they wrapped up the meeting.

“Yeah.” She pushed up from her chair and snapped her laptop closed. “I’m not all that adept at lying. Maybe you could give me a few tips?”

Rhys walked toward the door with Jin. “Excellent idea, Quinn,” he said, clearly missing the intended sting in her words. “Take Aiden for a coffee and get to know one another. I’m sure he could give you a few pointers.”

A blush flared across her cheeks, lighting up her porcelain skin. Her jaw clenched, the muscle twitching enough that he could tell she was grinding her teeth. “I’ve got a meeting scheduled with Addison about the new password requirements.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Rhys paused in the doorway for a moment. “Unless you’re having second thoughts?”

She steadied herself. “I’m not.”

Rhys and Jin left them alone in the room, and the air stilled. Tension rippled across his skin, heightening his senses. Firing up his brain. This was the calm before the storm.

“You...liar,” she spat, her eyes flashing. “I can’t believe I fell for your bullshit story. Game designer, my ass. Did you know I worked here? Were you following me?”

“Whoa.” Aiden held up a hand. “For starters, I tried to give you the truth last night, and you stopped me because it was ‘just sex.’ Second, I wasn’t following you. I’m not a goddamn stalker.”

“I stopped you,” she scoffed. “I thought you were going to lay down ground rules, not tell me you’d been pretending to be someone else. You didn’t try that hard to set the record straight.”

“When we stopped outside the hotel room, I was going to tell you.”

“So you say.” She tugged her denim jacket closer around her small frame. “How can I believe anything that comes out of your mouth?”

“You weren’t exactly up-front about where you worked, if memory serves me correctly.” He walked around the table to cut the distance between them.

“Keeping my private details to myself is not the same as lying.” Her fists clenched at her sides. “You flat out lied to me. Did you think you’d have a better chance with me if I thought you were a gamer?”

“No.” He shook his head, a dull ache spreading out from his temples as the ringing in his ears from his tinnitus started up. “That’s not why I lied.”

“Enlighten me, then.” Her small pink lips pressed into a flat line.

This was going downhill. Fast.

You can lie to protect a life and you can lie to protect your country, but you cannot lie for personal gain.

His father’s words swirled around in his head. He was the only man Aiden had ever met who managed to break the gray areas of life into fragments of black and white, assigning rules here and there so that he always had a framework for making decisions. The habit had stayed with Aiden, and while his moral code might not match everyone else’s, he stuck to it.

No matter what.

“I was there doing research for this assignment. I wanted to see if anyone was talking about Third Planet Studios or the leak about their new engine.” He rubbed at his temple. “I had a suspicion that Alana Peterson might have been involved since she has such a grudge against them.”

Quinn reeled as if he’d slapped her. “So you approached me because Alana’s my friend. You acted like you had no idea who she was.”

“I was doing my job.”

“Your job started today, not last night.” There was a slight shake in her hands as she fiddled with a button on her jacket. “Did you sleep with me to get information?”

The horror on her face made his stomach churn. He was a lot of things, but he didn’t use women in that way. If Quinn had given any indication that she knew what was going on with Third Planet Studios, he would have kept talking to her until he got what he needed. But he wouldn’t have slept with her to do it.

“That was all real, I promise. I was attracted to you. I wanted to sleep with you. And you seemed pretty into it, as well.”

“I can’t believe this.” Her fingers fluttered at her throat as if searching for something that wasn’t there. “You tricked me.”

“I didn’t trick you into staying the night.” He ground the words out. “You were there because you wanted to be.”

She swallowed and sucked in a deep breath. “You’re right. I did want to be there. But it sure as hell won’t happen again. If we’re going to work together, you can keep your hands to yourself.”

“Fine.” He held his hands up, palms facing her. “Does that mean we have a truce?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’ll work with you on this one assignment because I want something out of it. But I don’t trust you, and the second it’s over, I’m going to steer clear of you.”

“At least you’re honest,” he muttered.

“It’s more than I can say for you.” She tucked her laptop under her arm and headed for the door. “Come on, I’ve been told to take you for coffee.”

5

TODAY COULD HAVE been everything she wanted, but instead it was a pile of stinking irony and bad luck. The universe hated her, she was sure of it. But what could she do, cut off her nose to spite her face? She wanted this promotion, and she wasn’t going to let some lying phony take it away from her.

Some superhot, crazy-skilled-with-his-mouth phony. Ugh.

A little voice in her head reminded her that she had, in fact, stopped Aiden from talking about himself. She told that voice to shut the hell up. Instead, she found a free table in the far corner of the café, but even the familiarity of her favorite coffee spot didn’t soothe her nerves. Normally, the Brunswick Café was her safe haven, a place where she could bring her laptop and get away from the drama of the office. The guy behind the bar—who had long hair, tropical-fish tattoos and a broad Australian accent—knew her order by heart.

Even the sight of the quirky meme-inspired posters on the wall didn’t make her smile.

Behind the anger she’d hurled at Aiden was a kernel of fear taking root deep in her psyche. Had she been played by yet another guy? Used and exploited and made a fool of? Again.

Now you know he can’t be trusted. So work with him but don’t let him near you.

“One double-shot vanilla latte with a sprinkle of cinnamon.” Aiden put the towering coffee down in front of her. “Sounds like it has as much sugar as it does caffeine.”

“Something has to get me out of bed in the morning.”

He took the chair opposite her, his own coffee cup dwarfed beside hers. “You didn’t seem to have too much trouble today.”

She ignored the dig. “What’s that? Baby’s first coffee?”

“It’s a macchiato. A real coffee, not some cupcake masquerading as a drink.” His full lips quirked up. “I am sorry about lying to you, you know. I really was going to tell you last night.”

“Easy for you to say that now.” She wrapped her hands around the coffee cup and relished the warmth seeping into her palms.

“You have every right to be angry at me. But I am serious about this job, and I want us to be able to work together.” He brushed a stray black curl from his forehead, and Quinn’s heart jumped.

Stupid, traitorous body.

Sipping her drink, she focused on the sweet, sugary flavor instead of the way he was looking at her.

“I understand that I’ll need to earn your trust back and I’m willing to do that, but not at the cost of this assignment. I’m going to figure out this leak whether you’re with me or not.” He crossed one ankle over his knee, taking up all the free space at their cramped little table. “I do what has to be done for the sake of the job. If that involves crossing a line or two, then so be it.”

The smooth black wool of his pants curved around muscular legs. He wore a plain blue shirt a few shades lighter than his eyes, the sleeves rolled up and the top button popped open. She knew everything that was underneath that shirt—the ridges of muscle, the sharp V at his waist, the dusting of hair across his chest.

How good he tasted.

“I see you take yourself seriously,” she said, swallowing another mouthful of her drink.

“I take my job seriously.”

The ambient noise of the café filled in the gaps of their conversation. Familiar, busy sounds—like the rumble of the coffee machine and the clacking of cups being stacked—soothed her. They gave her something to focus on other than the swirl of toxic doubt in her mind. Quinn tapped her sneaker against the leg of the small table between them, playing out the hyped-up drumbeat of her heart.

This guy seriously unnerved her.

“What tips do you have for me, Mr. FBI? Do I need to know how to defuse a bomb with a paper clip?” She set her coffee on the table again and crossed her legs, keeping her hands at the hem of her dress so it didn’t rise too far up her thighs. “I played a lot of 007 back in the day. I’m handy with a gun... Well, a PlayStation one, anyway.”

“You need to know how to lie,” he said. “Convincingly.”

Talk about taking the wind out of her sails. Since she’d given him hell for lying to her, she couldn’t exactly proclaim to be a master liar herself. Truth was she didn’t often have to lie because she never shared details of her life. But she’d be going undercover as a Third Planet employee in a few days’ time, and she’d have to lie to everyone she met.

“Are you going to be able to do that?” He leaned forward, his forearms braced against his thighs until it felt as though he’d closed the world in around them.

Her jaw worked as she ground her teeth together, a terrible habit she’d picked up after “the webcam incident” two years ago. She often found herself doing it when she felt backed into a corner, even though Aiden wasn’t the one putting her in this position. This was her opportunity to get the job she wanted, but it drove her full steam ahead to the boundaries of her comfort zone. Hopefully, she wouldn’t crash into a wall.

“Quinn, it’s part of the job. If you’re not going to be able to do it then speak up now and I’ll go in by myself.”