Sometimes the only crime is giving in to temptation...

Winning a high-profile case has given a huge boost to New York attorney DeAngelo Di Meglio’s career—and his love life. Too bad fame hasn’t helped him win the woman he’s been infatuated with for years. Tired of waiting and wondering, Angelo books a trip to the singles-only Bahamas resort where Peyton Mahoney is celebrating her thirtieth birthday. And just as he hoped, when they finally connect, the chemistry is mind-blowing….

Two weeks in paradise has given Peyton some sizzling memories. That’s all she expects—or wants—from a legendary player like Angelo. Having grown up on Chicago’s South Side, she is worlds away from his life of privilege. Then a controversial case puts them on opposing sides. And as sexual tension spills over from the courtroom to the bedroom, there’s no way they can ignore the undeniable attraction….

Courting Justice

NEW YORK TIMES AND USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR

Brenda Jackson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To the love of my life, Gerald Jackson, Sr. My one and only. Always. Happy 40th anniversary! And I’m looking forward to many, many more!

To everyone who enjoys reading about the Madarises, this one is especially for you.

Dear Reader,

I never imagined when I penned my first Madaris novel that I would still be going strong seventeen years later.

The Madaris family is special, not just because it is my first family series, but because over the years you’ve made them your family. I’ve often said that the Madaris men have become your heroes because they represent those things you desire—men whose looks not only take your breath away, but who have the ability to make you appreciate the fact that you’re a woman.

I set the stage for Courting Justice in my last three Madaris novels. The hero and heroine, De Angelo Di Meglio and Peyton Mahoney, take center stage in a love story that will leave you breathless until the end.

I hope you enjoy reading Courting Justice, the eighteenth book in the Madaris Family and Friends series.

All the best,

Brenda Jackson

For none of us liveth to himself, and no man dieth to himself.

—Romans 14:7

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Epilogue

Chapter 1

“This is Martin Long reporting live from the steps of the U.S. District courthouse in lower Manhattan. We’ve just been told that a verdict has been reached in the federal case against Senator Ivan Russ. So far the headlines have been dominated by the prosecutor and the defense attorney in the case—a legal battle between two high-profile lawyers dubbed the “Thriller Maxilla” and the “Italian Hellion.” According to sources, defense attorney DeAngelo Di Meglio has gotten his client, Senator Russ, acquitted on all charges. Government prosecutors, headed by Attorney Samuel Maxilla, were shocked when their key witness in the case broke down after only fifteen minutes on the stand under cross-examination from Di Meglio.”

The reporter shifted the microphone to his other hand. “Under relentless questioning by Di Meglio, Congresswoman Andrea Vermeil shocked everyone in the courtroom with her confession that she had framed Senator Russ in a conspiracy to embezzle over a half million dollars in campaign funds…”

DeAngelo Di Meglio tuned out the reporters surrounding him and braced himself for the onslaught of media that would descend on him the moment he left the courthouse. This case was what he’d worked hard for his entire career, one that would make him a household name, one that would put him at the top and establish his legal reputation. And now at the ripe old age of thirty-four and after practicing law for ten years, he’d finally done it.

“Mr. Di Meglio, how did the case come together?”

“Why didn’t the senator admit to the affair with the congresswoman to save himself?”

“Are you upset the senator wasn’t truthful with you about everything?”

The reporters’ questions came at him from every direction.

He’d had a gut feeling the moment Congresswoman Vermeil had taken the stand, and his instincts made him push her in his cross-examination. Maybe it was the “I’m about to hang you by the balls” look she’d given his client, Senator Russ, who denied having an affair with the congresswoman and was willing to risk prison time to keep the affair from his wife, who was terminally ill. DeAngelo shook his head. Ivan Russ had actually believed that it was better for his dying wife to believe he was an embezzler rather than find out he was unfaithful.

The reporters continued to bombard him with more questions despite his response of “no comment.”

“How do you feel about breaking this case?”

“What do you think about the federal prosecutors and how they handled the case?”

The scene outside the courthouse reminded DeAngelo of the very first time he’d lost a case and how he’d felt then. He remembered the advice his parents, both of whom were lawyers, had given him: If you can’t say anything nice about somebody, then don’t say anything at all.

He looked straight into the TV camera pointed in his face and said in a direct, confident voice, “No comment for now. We’ll answer questions at the press conference.”

A short while later he was back in his office, surrounded by family, friends, associates and the law firm staff. They had all dropped by his office to congratulate him on winning a case many had thought would last for weeks or months. In fact, a few had even assumed there was only a snowball’s chance in hell of winning the case. The federal prosecutors had boasted that they had an airtight case against the senator, and when they found a briefcase filled with half a million dollars buried in his backyard, many assumed he was guilty.

Although the evidence had been damaging, for some reason DeAngelo had believed Senator Russ’s claims of innocence. But DeAngelo had suspected the senator wasn’t being truthful when he’d asked him if he knew of anyone who would want to frame him. DeAngelo got the sense that Senator Russ was trying to hide something, trying to protect someone. But no matter how he’d tried, he couldn’t get Ivan Russ to tell him anything other than that he didn’t plant the money in his backyard.

Momentarily distracted, DeAngelo blinked when his father snapped a finger in front of his face.

“Daydreaming, son? If you are, then you’re entitled. That case has consumed you for months now, and I speak on behalf of this entire firm in saying that you made us proud today.”

“You most certainly did, Angelo,” his mother chimed in with a huge smile on her face.

Coming from his parents, it meant a lot. He’d always appreciated their opinions—even at times when he didn’t want to hear them. “Thanks, Dad, Mom.”

His mother and father had always been his heroes. The two were highly respected attorneys who’d made a name for themselves and the Di Meglio law firm in Manhattan. The family firm had been established generations ago by his great-great-grandfather, and now included his parents, his father’s two brothers—Federico and Leandro—and their sons, Maddox and Damon. They were all Di Meglios, and had made a name for themselves representing the rich and famous. The only person who wasn’t part of the law firm was his younger sister, Samari. She was a partner in two law firms—one in Houston and another in Oklahoma City—and she had called moments ago to congratulate him and to tell him how proud she was of him.

“Same here, Angelo,” his uncles chimed in, as they grinned from ear to ear. “We want you to take some time off. You deserve it,” his uncle Leandro, the eldest of the three Di Meglio brothers, said. “Besides, you need to prepare to take on all those interviews and book offers that will be coming your way. The case not only made national headlines, it even made news overseas. Winning this case makes you one of the hottest lawyers around.”

“Hey, but don’t get the big-head,” his cousin Maddox warned.

“If you do, then we’ll have to take you down a peg or two,” his cousin Damon threatened. Both tried to look serious, but Angelo saw the amusement lurking behind their dark eyes.

He was about to tell both of them—who he thought of more like brothers than cousins—to kiss him where the sun don’t shine when he remembered his parents and uncles were still in the room. Instead he glanced over at his uncle Leandro. “I doubt things will go that far, Uncle Andro. I may be news today, but history tomorrow.”

“Don’t be too sure of that, Angelo,” his uncle Federico warned. Fed—as everyone called him—was the middle Di Meglio brother, and the uncle who was the most fun to be around. He was the Di Meglio who’d covered for Angelo and his cousins over the years when they’d gotten into trouble.

Over the next three hours, DeAngelo’s uncle’s warning was born out when his phone kept ringing nonstop. It seemed that winning a high-profile case had not only given a boost to his career but also to his love life. In reality, he’d stopped considering himself a “ladies’ man” a while ago. These days he dated just for fun, and always let the women he went out with know beforehand that there was no chance of emotional involvement. That had been deliberate on his part once he’d decided just what his future was.

He paused a second after locking his office door and glanced around. Everyone had left hours ago, but he and his two cousins had stayed late to celebrate some more. He had begged off Maddox’s invitation to go back to his place to party and have a good time. Back in the day he would have gone along with the kind of partying Maddox had in mind—beautiful women and lots of champagne—but not now.

He knew his cousins were wondering just what the hell was wrong with him since for the past couple of years his wild bachelor lifestyle had begun winding down. They accused him of no longer being any fun—like tonight. No doubt Maddox and Damon had hooked up with some hot women and had plans for an outrageous night.

Bidding good-night to the firm’s security guards, Angelo left the office and caught the elevator to the parking garage. He had received lots of calls that day. Some he’d preferred not to have received. There were the morning talk shows that called to get an interview and several well-known publishers offering book deals. Tomorrow, he decided, he would hire someone to handle all the press.

Then there were the calls from women he hadn’t dated in months—deliberately. Evidently they hadn’t gotten the hint since most of their calls made it seem as if they were still his flavor of the month, and would enjoy being by his side in the spotlight. He thought to himself, that wouldn’t be happening.

He fished his car keys out of his coat pocket. He opened the door to his two-seater Mercedes sports car and slid in. Whether his admirers knew it or not, his absence hadn’t been by accident. He had stopped seeing them for a reason. It seemed that lately one woman in particular seemed to dominate his thoughts.

After buckling his seat belt, he pulled out his cell phone and checked his messages. He would have to clear some of them out, he thought as texts and voice mails nearly totaled a hundred. He frowned as he realized the one call he had wanted most wasn’t among them. He had expected her call if for no other reason than because he was her best friend’s brother and he’d won an important case. Since she was a lawyer herself, she would know what that meant and how it felt.

Even now he remembered the first time he’d met her, the first time his sister Sam had brought her two best friends from law school—Mackenzie Standfield and Peyton Mahoney—home to spend the holidays with the Di Meglio family at their Long Island estate. Both women had been lookers, but there had been something special about Peyton that held his interest, if only for a moment. It was easy enough to see that she had issues. For starters, he sensed that she was uncomfortable surrounded by the Di Meglios’ wealth. She’d had a chip on her shoulder the size of the Rock of Gibraltar. Later, he’d found out why when he heard about the hard life she’d had growing up on Chicago’s South Side. He couldn’t help but admire her.

Although he rarely saw her, over the years he’d come to realize that he was attracted to her. It was subtle—and sexual, or so he thought—but his interest increased whenever he saw her. At first, he chalked it up to her being different. But then things changed when he made a surprise visit to his sister in Oklahoma, only to find she was away on a business trip in Florida for several days. At the time, Peyton wouldn’t hear of him staying at a hotel and had invited him to crash at her place until Sam returned to town.

It was during those five days that he’d gotten a chance to really know Peyton Mahoney and see a side of her she probably reserved for only those closest to her. With him, she let her guard down. And in doing so, he found her even more intriguing. She hadn’t been as unapproachable as he’d thought she was. During that time he’d discovered just how compassionate and loyal she was and that she didn’t have a pretentious bone in her body. Those five days had been special. And it was during those days, as unlikely as it might seem, that he had become totally enamored with her, although he’d done a good job of hiding it and ignoring his feelings. The man who could have any woman he wanted was hot and heavy for a woman who probably didn’t want anything to do with him, even if she knew how he felt.

He was about to slide his cell phone back into his pocket when it rang. He glanced at the caller ID and when he saw it was an Oklahoma number, he heaved a sigh of relief. He felt a twinge that sent a fluttery feeling through his body. He’d been waiting for this call. He pressed the key to connect the call. “This is Angelo.”

“Hey, this is Peyton. I don’t want to take up much of your time, but I just had to call to congratulate you. I’ve been keeping up with the trial and you were simply fantastic.”

The first thought that ran through his mind was that she could never take up too much of his time. And the second, a compliment coming from her meant everything. “Thanks, Peyton. I appreciate you calling. It was difficult at times.”

“I can imagine. I’m involved in a messy case now myself. I go to trial in a couple of weeks, so wish me luck. I want some of that Di Meglio courtroom magic to rub off on me.”

He smiled, thinking that the Di Meglio good fortune wasn’t the only thing he wanted to rub off on her. The thought of his hands touching her skin sent shivers of desire down his spine.

“Well, I’ll let you go, Angelo. I don’t want to hold up The Man.”

She’d always referred to him as that: The Man. Now he was beginning to wonder what it took to go from The Man to her man. “You’re not holding me up. Besides, I’m on my way home from the office. I’ve got nothing better to do tonight.”

“Yeah. Right.”

He could tell from her voice that she didn’t believe him. She still thought he was that skirt-chasing Di Meglio who enjoyed adding notches to his bedpost. He rolled down the car window to let in the summer breeze as he drove toward his place in Long Island. His parents had invited him to drop by their house, but he’d wanted to go home.

“I mean it. I don’t have anything better to do tonight.” Anything I’d rather do than talk to you, he thought silently. He wondered where she was. At the office? Home? “I enjoy talking to you,” he added.

“Thanks for being sweet and saying that, but I can’t indulge you, at least not tonight. I have to be back in court first thing in the morning. The attorney for the plaintiff is trying to play games, and I’m not in a playing mood. Gotta go, Angelo. It was good talking to you. Congratulations.”

He couldn’t imagine her taking a break. In all the years he’d known Peyton, he’d never seen her let her hair down and just enjoy life. She usually worked from sunup to sundown on her cases, and when she did take a break from the office he knew that she usually headed back home to Chicago to do pro bono work in the community. She probably didn’t know the meaning of relaxing, or pampering herself, or just plain chilling.

“Well, don’t celebrate too much tonight.”

He chuckled. If only she knew that was the last thing he intended to do. He would go home, shower, retire early and lie in bed savoring her phone call. “I won’t and I hope you have a good day in court tomorrow.”

“Hey, thanks. I’m going to need it. Next time I see you I hope you’re willing to share your secrets. You’ve won so many cases this year and I’d like to know how you do it.”

The answer to that question was easy. By staying focused and understanding what I really want out of life, he thought to himself. “Yes, next time we see each other I’ll be more than happy to share my secrets with you.”

He could hear her laughter and the sound was more sensuous than anything he’d heard in a while. Goose bumps pricked his skin and stoked his libido in a way that only she could do. She didn’t have a clue just how sexy he thought she was.

“Good night, Angelo.”

“Same to you, Peyton.”

After disconnecting the call, he was exhilarated yet felt a sense of longing. As the breeze blowing through the window floated across his face, he decided it was time to finally put his plan into action. There had to be some reason why he was so attracted to her, why he sought her out whenever they attended parties or family functions together and why he got jealous of any man who dared try and talk to her.

It was time for him to discover what it was about Peyton that had him fighting feelings he wasn’t accustomed to. When he got home, he would call his sister Samari, who had voiced her suspicions that he had a thing for her best friend. She’d known it and no telling how many others did as well—except for the lady herself.

Tonight he was going to enlist his sister Sam’s help in orchestrating his plan. His sister had been the first one to notice the attraction. And of course he had denied it, mostly because at the time he hadn’t been sure just what his feelings were. All he knew was that he was intensely attracted to Peyton.

As he drove along the expressway toward home, he couldn’t help but smile. There was a feeling of peace and tranquility that flowed through him. His friends and family had nicknamed him “Smooth Operator.” And because of his courtroom success, the media had dubbed him the “Italian Hellion.”

Right now, the only thing he wanted to be successful at, the only thing he wanted to be known as, was the man who conquered Peyton Mahoney.

Two weeks later…

Peyton stared across the table at the two women who had been her best friends since law school—Samari and Mackenzie Madaris. She looked down again at the early birthday gift they’d given her—a gift certificate for two weeks at Dunwoody Cove, the exclusive five-star, singles-only resort on a private island in the Bahamas.

Knowing the cost of a stay at the posh resort, her eyes widened. She glanced up and a smile touched her lips. “Have I been so much of a bitch lately that the two of you felt you needed to get rid of me?”

Of course it was Sam who smiled sweetly and said, “Your being a bitch we can handle. But a horny bitch is a little too much for anyone to have to deal with, Pey.”

Mackenzie gave Samari a playful punch on the shoulder. “Hey, Sam, did you have to go for the jugular?”

Peyton ignored the jab as she stuffed the tissue paper back into the gift bag and grinned. “Sticks and stones may break my bones but—”

“But that’s exactly what you need, Peyton—bones,” Sam interjected. “You need some fine man’s bones to jump. Then maybe that’ll get you out of this funk you’ve been in lately.”

Peyton didn’t say anything, because Sam was right. They knew the source of her bad attitude lately. It was just weeks before her thirtieth birthday, and she was still single with no love life to speak of. Her two best friends, however—Sam and Mac—were not only married to drop-dead gorgeous men who happened to be cousins, but both were mothers to two beautiful babies. Mac had a three-month-old son named after her husband, Luke, and Sam had a beautiful little girl named Blair, who would be celebrating her first birthday in a few months.

“You’re going to the resort for two weeks, aren’t you?”

Peyton glanced at Mac. Her friends, who were genuinely concerned, didn’t know the half of it. Although the part about her being horny was up for discussion, she was never one to constantly need male companionship. But what she did need was a break from Oklahoma and from her caseload.

She’d won her last case a few days before, but it hadn’t been easy. Opposing counsel had tried to play hardball, but she’d shown them that when pushed, she could take things to a whole new level. She had proven when provoked, she could go toe-to-toe with anyone in the courtroom.

She was glad the case was over and wasn’t ready to take on another one. She just needed some time away from work, and it would be nice to go somewhere other than Chicago. Although she liked going home, since her grandmother who’d raised her had died a few years ago, the South Side hadn’t been the same.

She met Mac and Sam’s expectant gazes. “Yes, I’m definitely going,” she said, inhaling deeply.

“Hallelujah!”

Peyton knew that what she really needed to do was figure out the reason why she’d recently begun thinking about things she’d never considered before—like settling down, getting married and making some babies. She could very easily attribute it to Mac and Sam. Lately, they’d been all smiley-faced.

Sam had a huge smile on her face now. “That means we get to go shopping,” she said.

“For what?” Peyton said.

“For some lingerie.”

“I’m going to the resort to rest, Sam, not necessarily to get laid. Besides, I have lingerie.”

“It’s a singles resort, kiddo. Of course you’re going there to get laid,” Sam said, giving her a pointed look as Mac leaned back in her chair and grinned.

“And we’re talking about sexy lingerie, Peyton. There’s no way you’re going to the Dunwoody taking that granny-panties underwear you have,” Sam added.

Peyton rolled her eyes knowing not to take offense at Sam’s comment and feel insulted. Been there, done that. And with Sam it was only a waste of time. Sam was Sam and there was no changing her. In law school, they had gotten off to a bad start, mainly because they’d come from two totally different backgrounds. She’d seen Sam as a spoiled little rich kid and Sam had seen her as the tough South Side of Chicago girl who still had a chip on her shoulder because she came from the wrong side of the tracks. It was one of the reasons Peyton still believed in defending the little guy.

Thanks to Mac, who’d always been the peacemaker, the three of them had come to an understanding and their friendship had survived the test of time, including some of Sam’s exorbitant shopping sprees. The woman could spend money like she had her own personal mint, while Peyton still watched her pennies, something she’d always done. She had grown up not knowing where her next meal was coming from or when it would get there. Besides, both Sam and Mac knew that when it came to sharing her bed, she was as picky as hell.

“So what time do you want to meet us at Sylvia’s tomorrow?”

Peyton immediately held up her hand. “Whoa! Back up! I will not go shopping for anything at that place again.”

The last time Sam had talked her into going to Sylvia’s to shop, what she’d spent on a nightgown could have fed the entire block of the housing project where she grew up. She enjoyed nice things like anyone else, but the prices at Sylvia’s were utterly ridiculous. Personally, she didn’t think the lingerie looked any better than what she’d bought at Victoria’s Secret.

“Okay, we’ll go to Diana’s Boutique then.”

Peyton rolled her eyes. The prices at Diana’s were just as bad, but she decided that now was not the time to argue with Sam or things could get ugly. And she didn’t want that. Especially after the wonderful gift they’d given her. She was not particularly outgoing, so it would be hard at first for her to socialize with a bunch of strangers at a resort. But she would try.

Although she, Mac and Sam still did things together, it wasn’t the same. Now they set their watches to get home to their hubbies and babies in time. She couldn’t much blame them and was happy for them, really. But she still remembered those times when they would work hard during the day and head over to Cello’s for dinner and to party. Now those days were long gone.

“Okay, so it’s all set. Tomorrow we’ll meet in town at noon at Diana’s.”

Peyton opened her mouth to argue then closed it. She glanced over at Mac who gave her a playful wink, and she couldn’t help but chuckle. She didn’t have a fighting chance against these two. Somehow she would get through this or she would end up killing Sam.

Chapter 2

Angelo entered the huge ballroom and glanced around. It was “Getting to Know You” night and the place was filled wall-to-wall with people, mostly women. All of them appeared ready, willing and available. After all, this was a singles resort. There was a time when a scene like this would have excited every sexual bone in Angelo’s body. And the Di Meglio nose—which could detect a woman a mile away—would be sniffing like crazy, zeroing in on his next conquest.

It had been three weeks since he’d won the Russ case, and women were still throwing themselves at him. He’d told them that his playboy days were over, but they still didn’t believe him. Some thought that tempting him with sexual favors would do the trick. And he was still shaking his head at the number of brazen propositions that had recently come his way.

As he perused his way around the ballroom, he was very much aware of the eyes that turned to follow him. But while they were watching him, he was scanning the room for someone else. Tonight his focus was on finding one particular woman. Thursday was her birthday, and he intended to help her celebrate. In fact, whether she knew it or not, he intended to spend all of his time with her, if that’s what it took. He was determined that by the time they left Dunwoody Cove their relationship would have moved to a whole new level—sexual, that is. She would no longer see him as the brother of one of her closest friends. Instead, he planned on being a whole lot more.

He suddenly heard that throaty laughter of hers and his head spun around in that direction. Even in dim light his gaze focused on Peyton sitting on a stool at the bar with several men standing around her. Already she’d acquired a fan club. She had been at the resort two days before he’d arrived and that might have been two days too many, he thought. But he would remedy that very soon.

Now that he’d arrived he wouldn’t waste any time staking his claim…but subtly. He wouldn’t rush her, but he intended to be thorough in his pursuit. Two weeks would just be the start of things—the groundbreaking for their relationship, so to speak. He had decided that the best approach was to get her away from her life in Oklahoma—here, unsuspecting, alone and with him.

First he had to gain her trust, though there was no reason for her not to trust him. After all, he was Samari Di Meglio Madaris’s brother. She had known him close to seven years and seemed comfortable with the friendship they’d forged. He wanted her to see him not just as a friend, but as something more. He wanted her to take the blinders off and finally see what others had been seeing for years. It went deeper than just the physical attraction, but he was willing to stoke the sexual chemistry first.

Peyton being here at Dunwoody Cove was his idea. Getting Mac and Sam to go along with his plan hadn’t been easy. After all, Peyton was their best friend and they knew of his reputation when it came to women. Convincing them he wanted more out of a relationship with her had been difficult, and they had questioned his motives. Nevertheless, he took it in stride since he’d made up his mind to go after Peyton with or without their help. And once he made up his mind about something, there was no stopping him. But there was a nagging question: why was he so determined to have her?

Peyton was sitting on a barstool in a slinky black cocktail dress with a split up the side that displayed nearly every inch of her thigh and gorgeous leg. She looked absolutely stunning, the way the thickness of her dreadlocks swept across her shoulders. She hadn’t seen him yet, which gave him a chance to observe her unnoticed. Although she usually came off tough as nails, there was a softness that showed in her face. Her lips were full and sexy, and the reason why he had laid in bed so many times thinking about how it would feel to taste them. Her coffee-colored skin framed her dark eyes. And a pair of gold chandelier earrings dangled from her earlobes, giving her an exotic, sensual look.

She shifted in her seat, revealing a bit more of her thigh, and a spasm of desire coursed through him. He couldn’t see much of her dress. But from what he could see, it covered just enough to make him fantasize about the rest of her.

The men standing around her were eagerly hanging on her every word. They reminded him of predators circling their prey, ready to pounce at the first chance. And he intended to make sure they didn’t. They may have put her at the top of the food chain, but he was going to have her on his menu for her entire stay.

Peyton laughed again, throwing her head back and accentuating her long graceful neck. She sat there looking simply gorgeous and more dazzling than any other woman in the room. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen her look so jaw-droppingly beautiful. There had been times they’d run into each other at weddings and family gatherings. And she always managed to garner more than enough attention, just like now.

When she laughed again, he figured she had started the party without him and it was time to make his presence known, especially when one of the men continued refilling her cocktail as another placed his hand in the center of her back, touching her bare skin.

Not on his watch.

Ignoring the women looking in his direction, he moved toward the bar where Peyton sat entertaining her audience. He frowned the closer he got. It seemed one guy in particular intended to make her his for the night, the one who kept refreshing her cocktail.

She was talkative, more than he’d ever seen before. When he was in her line of sight, she blinked. Seconds later, a huge smile spread across her lips, from corner to corner. “Angelo! What on earth are you doing here?”

Angelo smiled warmly at her as he moved past the men encircling her and came to a stop in front of her. He heard the slight slur in her voice, which meant she’d had one drink too many. “Maybe I should be asking you the same thing, Pey,” he said, intentionally using her nickname to convey his familiarity as he gently pried the glass out of her hand and placed it on the counter.

Angelo knew that Peyton wasn’t a drinker, seldom touched the stuff. She wasn’t completely sloshed yet, but a few more would get her there. “What are you drinking?” he asked her.

She shrugged her shoulders. “Scotch and water. I don’t drink much.”

Angelo nodded. “I know.” He glanced at the glass. It was more Scotch than water.

“I’m celebrating my birthday. It’s this week, and I’ll be thirty.”

He heard the excitement in her voice. “I know that,” he said, “and an early happy birthday to you.”

“Thanks. These guys are helping me celebrate,” she said, motioning to the men standing around her.

“Umm, you don’t say.” Angelo stared at them, taking a hard look at each one of them. A few had the decency to look away, probably to shield the guilty looks on their faces. He knew just how they had intended to help her celebrate.

“Yes, wasn’t that nice of them?”

She really didn’t want to know what he truly thought of them, so instead of answering, he slid onto the stool opposite her. “How can you be turning thirty when you don’t look a day over twenty-five?”

She reached out and patted his cheek. “You’re so sweet, Angelo.”

“Hey, evidently you don’t know the rules around here,” the man who’d had a heavy hand in refreshing her drink said gruffly, moving to stand closer to Peyton’s side.

Angelo gave the man a hard look. “No, I think you’re the one who doesn’t know the rules, especially with the amount of Scotch you’ve been giving her,” he said, glancing back at Peyton, and seeing the glassy look in her eyes.

“He was just being nice, Angelo,” she said softly, smiling. “I’m here to have a good time, right?”

“Right, but I think you’ve had too much of a good time for now.”

She nodded slowly. “Yes, I think so, too.” Then she leaned in closer. He ignored how good she smelled and listened attentively when she whispered, “I’m beginning to feel sick.”

“Then, let me get you to your room,” he said, standing.

“Hey, look here, buddy,” the man said angrily.

Angelo turned stony eyes on him. “No, you look,” he said in a steely voice, trying to keep it down so as not to cause a scene. But if he had to, he would. “You were deliberately trying to get her drunk. Now, I suggest you haul ass before I kick yours.”

The man was about to open his mouth to say something when one of the resort’s well-dressed, no-nonsense security men approached. “Is there a problem, Mr. Di Meglio?”

Angelo glanced over at the resort’s security manager whose name was Saul. “No problem.”

He reached out and took Peyton’s hand and gently tugged her off the barstool to bring her to his side. “I’m escorting Ms. Mahoney to her room. You might want to go over the rules of the resort with these guys, regarding taking advantage of guests by getting them drunk.”

With Peyton nestled close to his side, he began shouldering his way through the crowd. Behind him he heard the man ask Saul in a pissed-off voice, “Just who the hell does he think he is?”

Saul’s response was short and direct. “He’s one of the owners.”

* * *

“Do you need me to help you undress?”

If Angelo had meant to snap her out of her tipsy state he certainly succeeded with that question, Peyton thought, drawing in a quick breath and glancing across the room at him.

She’d just stepped out of the bathroom, after voiding her stomach of the Scotch she’d drank earlier. She’d stayed in the bathroom a few minutes longer, wiping a warm cloth across her face, brushing her teeth and gargling. She felt a little better, but not a whole lot, and knew that in the morning she would probably have a doozy of a headache.

What on earth had made her drink that much when she knew she couldn’t handle it? She’d always known her limits. Overindulging had never been her thing, and she would get upset at anyone who did.

“Peyton?”

It was then that she realized she hadn’t responded to Angelo’s bizarre question. And maybe it wasn’t so bizarre considering how sick she’d been moments ago in the bathroom. There was no doubt he’d heard it and probably figured she’d almost died in the bathroom.

“No thanks, I can manage,” she said, entering the room on wobbly legs and dropping down in the nearest chair.

Mac and Sam hadn’t just given her a room at Dunwoody Cove. They had given her the mother of all luxury suites. She could have probably fit her modest-size apartment in here. She couldn’t believe the view she had of the ocean from her balcony, as well as how expensive the furniture looked. And the closets were big enough to accommodate a family of four.

“You sure?”

Rubbing her temples as she already felt a headache coming on, she met his gaze. “Positive. But thanks for asking.”

“You’re welcome.”

A few seconds passed, and then he said, “All right then. Do you want to talk about it?”

She dropped her hand down in her lap and couldn’t help the smile that touched her lips. Sam would always tell them how whenever she got in trouble about anything, Angelo would begin their discussion by asking that question. Do you want to talk about it?

“There’s really nothing to discuss, Angelo.” Bottom line, she’d made a fool of herself tonight. No big deal. No harm done. She drew in a deep breath knowing that it was a big deal since it was so unlike her. She glanced down at herself and decided to blame it on the dress.

She had found enough courage to wear one of the outfits she’d bought shopping with Mac and Sam last week. For once, she had let Sam talk her into buying a couple of things she normally wouldn’t have purchased.

She wasn’t vain, but she had to admit the dress looked pretty damn good on her. When she had walked into the ballroom and noticed the attention several men had given her, her head had swelled a little. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn something that had turned a man’s head, mainly because she couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone out of her way to impress anyone. That wasn’t her style.

She could only assume the reason the attention had gotten to her was because she was going through this almost-over-the-hill, turning-thirty crisis. She was enjoying her last few days in her twenties, and it had been pretty heady stuff to draw the attention away from women a few years younger than she was.

“You are aware that that man was deliberately trying to get you drunk?”

Yes, she knew and would have eventually called him out on it. But dammit, she had enjoyed being the center of attention. And the Scotch had brought her out of her shell and made the never-have-anything-to-say-except-in-the-courtroom Peyton Mahoney more sociable. Besides, she figured she could handle the amount of Scotch he’d been giving her. She hadn’t expected her system to react so adversely, so soon.

“You’re not falling asleep on me, are you, Peyton?”

She chuckled at the thought and rested her head back against the sofa cushions. What woman in her right mind would fall asleep on DeAngelo Antonio Di Meglio, the “Italian Hellion,” and one of the most gorgeous men to walk the face of the earth?

“No, I’m wide-awake,” she said, glancing over at him.

He was still standing, and she couldn’t help the way her gaze scanned him up and down. He was amazingly tall and so well-built that when he walked into a room, women did a double take before going slack-jawed and drooling. She’d done that very thing the first time Sam had taken her and Mac home for the holidays. As soon as she’d seen Angelo, she’d immediately thought that Sam had one fine brother. The Di Meglio cousins, Damon and Maddox, were eye candy as well, but there had been something about Angelo that had managed to swoosh air from her lungs whenever she saw him. The man was so incredibly handsome it made her eyes hurt just looking at him.

It might have been the beautiful, even tone of his chestnut-colored skin, or the gorgeous dark eyes that could hypnotize anyone. Or it could be the sharp angle of his nose, which bore his Italian ancestry, or his luscious-looking lips. His face was clean-shaven and his hair was cut low in the front but longer in the back so that the silky strands of his hair grazed the collar of his shirt. Tonight his hair had a rugged, unkempt look that made him appear even sexier. And last but not least, there was that diamond stud in his ear.

“Maybe I need to undress you, after all, and get you in the bed.”

She swallowed, knowing he hadn’t meant it the way it had sounded. He was playing the big brother role and quite naturally, since she was Sam’s friend, it would extend to her. It wouldn’t be the first time. She chuckled as she remembered when she, Sam and Mac had gone partying in Manhattan one year and had gotten plastered.

“I’m glad one of us can find humor in tonight, Peyton.”

She wiped the smile off her face. “Lay off, Angelo,” she said, straightening herself in the chair. “I told you I’m fine. So please forget about the big brother role. I can manage. Thanks for seeing me to my room.”

“You’re welcome.”

“But you never did answer my question about what you’re doing here.”

He paused a moment. “I come here often.”

She nodded. And why wouldn’t he, with so many beautiful, single women in one place? Angelo was extremely rich just as he was extremely handsome. He would be a good catch for any woman.

Even if he didn’t work a day in his life, he could still live off the trust fund he’d inherited once he turned thirty. Since she was one of Sam’s best friends she knew all about it. She knew that his paternal great-grandparents had come to this country from Sicily with little more than the clothes on their backs. They had worked hard, educated their sons and were proud when they went into practice together, opening the first Di Meglio law firm in the Bronx office above their father’s little Italian restaurant so many years ago. One of Angelo’s cousins still owned and operated the restaurant today.

The Di Meglio brothers made a name for themselves and pretty soon had made enough money to open an office in Manhattan and build the twenty-five-story Di Meglio Building. It was widely suspected that his family had had ties to the Mafia, especially since they were Sicilians—every last one of them. And they had money and plenty of it. Peyton had always thought the family spent money frivolously, especially when you considered the people who didn’t have any.

“It’s a nice place,” she said, deciding to keep the conversation going. The room suddenly felt hot and stuffy, which was odd since the air-conditioning was on full blast.

“I think so, too. Hopefully, you can see more of it tomorrow.”

She frowned, not sure what that meant. She might decide to sleep off the hangover she’d probably have. She blinked when he walked over and eased down into the chair across from her in a move that was ultra-sexy. She couldn’t help noticing how the fabric of his slacks stretched across his taut thighs when he did so. She’d always thought he had a way about him that was smooth and ultra-cool.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked.

Her eyes moved from his thighs back to his face.

“No, I’m fine.”

When he just sat there and stared at her, she suddenly felt her entire body heat up. What on earth was wrong with her? She had gotten over her stupid crush on Angelo ages ago, she was sure of it. She’d stopped getting those funny butterflies in her stomach whenever he came within ten feet of her years ago. So why was her composure—the little she had left—weakening around him now? And what was this hot rush of desire that was overtaking her, prickling her skin, stroking her insides?

She cleared her throat. “Aren’t you leaving?”

“Not until you answer my question.”

She frowned. What question was that? Then she remembered. “No, I don’t want to talk about it.” She’d almost made a major blunder by celebrating too much. It happened. She realized that some men were still assholes who would try to take advantage of a woman if given the chance.

And then, because she felt a little put out by Angelo’s presence, by the way his being here was making her feel, she all but snapped. “And you don’t have to babysit me. I’m not Sam. You’re her brother, not mine.”

Evidently her words hadn’t offended him, if the smile that suddenly curved his luscious-looking lips was anything to go by. “Yes, you’re right. You aren’t Sam, and I am not your brother.”

Peyton blinked. She might be wrong, but it seemed as if he was reiterating her statement for a reason. “Good. I’m glad we understand each other, Angelo. I’m here to have a good time. It’s my birthday present from Mac and Sam. I hadn’t expected to run into you here, but that’s fine. Although I appreciate your making sure I got to my room tonight before I threw up all over the place, the last thing I want is for you to play the big brother.”

He threw his head back and chuckled. “Trust me, I don’t intend to play the role of big brother to you, Peyton. I had a reason for coming here.”

She nodded and didn’t have to think twice about what that reason was. This was a singles resort, and the women outnumbered the men two to one. She’d heard from Sam that the media had dubbed him the new legal boy wonder. His name was now an everyday word on the lips of many…mostly women. She was surprised he wasn’t reveling in the publicity, milking his newfound popularity and fame for all it was worth.

“Glad to hear it,” she heard herself say.

“So, as you can see, you have nothing to worry about, Peyton.”

He slowly rose from the chair as her gaze followed his every move. Damn, he did everything with the smoothness of a man who had it goin’ on and was comfortable in his own skin. And speaking of skin, she thought his coloring—the perfect blend of his Italian father and African-American mother—was simply beautiful. His features were all Italian, except for the fullness of his lips. They had to be the sexiest pair she’d ever seen on a man.

For some reason she had always been a woman drawn to a man’s lips and believed they could tell a lot about him. She’d heard that a man with full lips, like the ones Angelo had, meant that he was extremely sensual and sexually demonstrative. Men with full lips were into physical pleasure, had high-energy and stamina when it came to passion and liked to keep their sex lives interesting. She could believe that about him after hearing for years about all his sex-capades from Sam.

“I would ask you to walk me to the door, but I’m not sure you’ll be able to make it without falling flat on your face.”

Peyton couldn’t help but smile. “Hey, it’s not that bad.”

He chuckled. “Tell me that in the morning. I have a feeling you’re going to wake up with a hell of a headache.”

“Like I said, I’m here for my birthday and I plan to enjoy myself and have a good time.”

“And I want you to enjoy yourself and have a good time as well.”

He had come to stand in front of her and surprised her when he reached out his hand to her, especially since he’d acknowledged earlier that she was in no shape to walk him to the door.

She took his hand and stood. She felt a moment of light-headedness and reached out and flattened her hands against his chest. “Sorry, I guess I’m not as steady on my feet as I thought I was.”

“That’s fine. I’ve got you and I won’t let you go.”

It wasn’t so much what he said, but the sensual tone she heard in his voice that made her lift her gaze to his. And then, at that moment, her breath was nearly snatched from her throat and the very air she was breathing was suddenly suffused with heat of the most intense kind.

She figured that it had to be the Scotch that was still in her system. Because, at that moment, when she stared up into his eyes, she could have sworn she saw hot-blooded passion in his gaze—intense, simmering heat. And the sight of it was torching her insides, churning desire through her veins and playing havoc with her senses.

She swallowed as his gaze held hers, and seconds later she could barely breathe. She tried breaking eye contact with him but she couldn’t move. It was as if her gaze refused to cooperate and was glued to him. At that moment she became even more aware of the power in his masculine frame as he took a step closer, bringing his body next to hers.

Was it his hardened erection she felt that made the nipples of her breasts rigid in response and caused her to take on a whole new breathing pattern? She blinked and quickly concluded that yes, it was definitely an erection—an arousal of the most intense kind. And instinctively, her body seemed to inch closer. She felt the hot throbbing at the juncture of her legs, and thanks to the thin material of the dress she was wearing, she suddenly felt like a naked body plastered to him.

She shivered. Oh, God. She felt a pang as if she’d been stunned. Another sensuous tremor jolted her, making her shiver again.

“Are you cold, Peyton?”

He must have felt her quivering. She bit down on her lips to bite back the feelings of shock. His erection meant he was attracted to her. Why? Sam had teased her about the dress drawing male attention. But arousing the likes of Angelo Di Meglio? Come on? Really?

She shook her head, knowing she was way off base. There had to be another reason he had a hard-on. “No, I’m not cold,” she said, aware that her denial hadn’t sounded convincing.

He tightened his arms around her anyway, and the warmth of his touch was almost startling, and definitely unexpected. There had to be a reason she was reacting to Angelo this way. She quickly figured out that since she hadn’t had a real serious date in months, her body must be starved for attention and affection. Yes, that had to be it.

She leaned back and glanced up at him. “Angelo?”

“Yes?”

He’d only responded with that one word. Why did he have to sound so mouthwateringly sexy when he’d said it? Why did her breath continue to catch that way? And why had he suddenly moved his hands to rest in the center of her bare back? And why had a warm rush of desire trickled over her skin the moment he’d touched her?

She wanted to ask him what was going on. Why were they embracing in what seemed like a sensual cocoon? Instead she replied, “Nothing.”

Peyton was tempted to close her eyes and wrap herself up in the sensations that were overtaking her like a summer breeze on a hot July night. But she knew she had to keep her eyes open and try to figure out what was happening to her. Why had the palms of her hands, which were flattened against his chest, lifted of their own accord and wrapped themselves around his neck?

“Peyton?”

He said her name and for the life of her, even though she was staring into his face, she didn’t see his lips move. “Yes?”

“Think about what you said moments ago.”

What had she said? She couldn’t remember. It was as if her mind had suddenly gone blank and the only thing she was focused on was him. Peyton couldn’t say that she was seeing him in a whole new light, because she’d always been aware of just how overpoweringly sexy he was—how breathtakingly handsome. But she was confused about her reaction to him—her deep-in-the-belly kind of attraction. Of course she had been drawn to him years ago when they’d first met. What woman wouldn’t be drawn to such a sexy hunk?

But that had been more than seven years ago and the attraction had quickly worn off when she’d known she was way out of his league. Sam had already told them about her brother. Peyton had known about the revolving door to his bedroom and about the women who threw themselves at him. She hadn’t wanted to be one of them, figured she didn’t have a chance even if she’d wanted to.

Besides, she’d never fit into his world and preferred her own life anyway, thank you very much. She’d been proud of her humble beginnings in the South Side of Chicago. Times had been hard, and she’d had to be tough. But growing up with very little had taught her how to appreciate much. She didn’t need a lot of money to be content.

And speaking of content, why did it feel so good being in his arms this way? Why was she in his arms anyway? Thinking she needed to come to her senses and quick, she made a move to step back, but his hands on her back tightened, making it impossible to retreat.

“DeAngelo?” And why did she feel it necessary to call him by his first name and not the shorter version she usually used? And why did doing so sound so right at that moment?

“Yes?”

His single-word response packed a wallop, and she drew in another deep gulp of air. “What did I say? I can’t remember. And just what is going on here?”

She’d tried sounding a little annoyed, but the feeling truly wasn’t there. She was overwhelmed by sudden feelings of lust and yearnings that she hadn’t indulged in in a long time. She felt warm, and her body was getting hotter by the second. He had opened the French doors to the balcony and the gentle June breeze was coming through but was doing nothing to cool her off.

Her brain was warring with competing emotions. One side kept reminding her that this was Angelo, Sam’s outrageously sexy brother—the one who made her do a double take the first time she’d met him. But then the other side of her brain, the one that had a few screws loose on occasion, reminded her where she was and why. This was a singles resort, and she was here to celebrate her birthday. If she was going to get buck-wild, then shouldn’t it be with someone she knew?

Peyton blinked when he reached out with his thumb and touched her bottom lip moments before he leaned in close to her—so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her mouth.

“I can show you what’s going on here, a whole hell of a lot better than I can tell you, Peyton,” he said, his voice dropping an octave to a sensuous low.

And then, before she could draw another breath, his mouth slanted across hers.

* * *

Angelo hadn’t known just how much he wanted Peyton until he got his first taste of her, and then it was on. He wasted no time kissing the confused look right off her lips. It was obvious she hadn’t expected it, but she would find out soon enough that he was full of surprises.

Now it was time to take the kiss to the next level.

She stiffened only for a second when he slid his tongue into her mouth and began devouring her with all the heated desire that had been bottled up inside of him for some time now—a couple of years in fact. During those two years he’d wondered how she tasted. Now he was finding out firsthand. Caught off guard, Peyton began returning his kiss. She didn’t have a choice, particularly when his tongue became more demanding and probing, exploring her mouth with a persistence and greed that he felt everywhere, especially in his groin.

Initially, he had thought about being gentle. After all, this was their first kiss and he intended for there to be plenty more. But the more his mouth plundered hers, the greedier he became. Whether she knew it or not, she was the one he wanted. The one woman he wanted to make love to.

Maddox and Damon thought he’d lost his mind, but they just didn’t understand. He hadn’t understood at first either, but now he did. His grandfather had always warned him things would be this way when he found the woman who was his soul mate.

For years, he hadn’t accepted such a thing was possible. At least he hadn’t wanted to believe it, considering he was having so much fun being single. But then the bachelor life had begun losing some of its allure and the thought of just being with one woman had begun to appeal to him.

He knew Peyton had had everything to do with his change of heart. She lived in Oklahoma, and he lived in New York. Sometimes he found the distance between them almost unbearable. In the past two years he had found excuse after excuse to visit his sister in Oklahoma. But now that Sam lived in Houston most of the time, he couldn’t rely on that as an excuse. That’s when he’d made the decision to do something about the woman he wanted in his love life.

When she leaned closer into him, he instinctively deepened the kiss. His tongue feasted on hers, staking a claim like he had every right to do so.

He wanted to just pick her up in his arms and carry her to the bedroom and make love to her, but he couldn’t. He had waited a long time, and so he wanted to do things right.

She suddenly broke off the kiss, and he watched her draw in a deep breath. Her lips were wet, and he wanted to taste them again. But the frown that marred her features let him know that wouldn’t be happening.

“What did you do that for?” she asked angrily.

He smiled when she unconsciously licked her top lip where his taste still lingered. “This is Dunwoody Cove,” he said. “Everyone who comes here does so for a reason, Peyton. And as you reminded me, you might be close to my family but you are not my sister. And I don’t intend to play the role of big brother to you—in fact, far from it.”

He leaned down and swiped a quick kiss from her lips. “Get some rest, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As he headed for the door, he knew without looking that she was standing there stunned. But she would have plenty of time to figure things out because starting tomorrow, he was taking off the kid gloves and Peyton Mahoney wouldn’t know what hit her until it was too late.

Chapter 3

Peyton opened her eyes then closed them when the insistent throbbing in her head became almost unbearable. It had been years since she’d had a serious hangover. Not since her college days, and this one was off the charts.

She kept her eyes closed as snippets of the previous night slowly began coming together in her mind. She recalled having a little more to drink than she’d intended. And then Angelo had appeared out of nowhere, and the next thing she knew he walked her back to her room where she’d rushed to the bathroom to throw up. She vaguely recalled what happened after she’d come out of the bathroom, and suddenly her eyes sprang open when she remembered that Angelo had kissed her. She reached out and touched her lips. Had he really kissed her or had she just dreamt it? She turned her body and stared up at the ceiling. Ignoring the deep pounding in her head, she tried to recall everything that had happened in the hotel room last night once she’d stepped out of the bathroom. They had been talking about nothing much, and he had gotten ready to leave. He had walked over to her, pulled her off her feet and into his arms and…

She shook her head. No, she had to be imagining things. There was no way Sam’s sexy-and-handsome-as-sin brother would have kissed her. It had to be the side-effects of last night’s drinking binge that had her brain mushy.

But if that was the case, then why was the memory of being locked in Angelo’s arms so vividly clear? They did kiss, she thought. And then there was his touch. She remembered his hands grazing her spine, which was exposed in her backless dress. There had been the feel of her body plastered close to his, and even now she could feel the solid wall of muscles pressed against her.

Peyton closed her eyes, unsure whether her memories were reality or fantasy. At that moment, the only thing she was absolutely sure of was the persistent pounding in her head. That, combined with the memory of being held and kissed by Angelo, made her brain feel as if it was in overdrive. She tried clearing her head and found it nearly impossible to do so. The pounding and memories continued. And moments later she was pulled into another deep sleep.

* * *

Angelo leaned back in his chair, sipped his coffee and smiled. His kiss had taken Peyton by surprise last night—probably shocked the living daylights out of her. That was good, and it was something she might as well get used to, he thought.

He knew there was a possibility that she wouldn’t remember anything about last night. That was okay since at some point today he intended to make his desire for her quite obvious. He had two weeks, and he intended to use them wisely. He’d never pursued a woman before. But then he’d never tried either. But he planned to do so with a purpose and a resolve like no other.

“Why am I not surprised to see you here DeAngelo?”

He glanced up and wished he hadn’t. Lela Stillwell, the woman who had been a thorn in Sam’s side throughout high school. For some reason the two of them always butted heads and had never gotten along. He later found out why. Lela always put herself on a pedestal, especially with the help of an over-indulgent father, who happened to be one of Angelo’s father’s clients.

Lela had come into the office several times with her old man some years ago, and Angelo had once even considered having an affair with her. But that was before she had accused a pro football player of attempted rape. The authorities weren’t buying it and had detected holes in her story. Angelo’s father had gotten her to drop the charges, and she later admitted that she had falsely accused the athlete when he had brushed off her advances. Luckily he didn’t press charges against Lela, but that was only after her father reached an out-of-court settlement with the accused athlete. Her father had sent her to Paris for a year or so until the scandal died down. Evidently she was back.

“How are you, Lela?”

She slid into the seat across from him uninvited. “I’m doing fine now that I see that you’re here, Angelo.”

He gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I don’t see why my presence would make a difference.”

“Don’t you?”

“Quite frankly, no,” he said, checking his watch. It was close to noon. If Peyton wasn’t up yet, then it was time for him to wake her up.

“I’m sure you know I’ve always been interested in you.”

“Have you?”

“Yes, and I think you’ve been interested in me as well. That unfortunate incident last year with Kevin Swank wasn’t my fault.”

He wondered how she could say that. When she had shown up at Swank’s home, security cameras had captured the entire incident. It hadn’t been hard to figure out who had been pursuing whom. There hadn’t been any inappropriate behavior on Kevin Swank’s part as Lela had claimed. She had nearly ruined his career and reputation with her allegations, which ultimately forced her father to fork over a hefty settlement to avoid a countersuit.

“I’ve been hearing a lot about you lately, Angelo,” she said, interrupting his thoughts. “Your name has been all in the news.”

“Really?”

“Yes, and you need the right woman by your side to help you handle all that media attention—one who is refined, elegant and poised.”

He looked over at her and couldn’t help but smile. The one thing Lela hadn’t mentioned was honest. That was definitely something she was not.

“Thanks for the suggestion,” he said, standing. “Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s someplace I need to be.”

Ignoring her, he took one last sip of coffee before walking off.

* * *

“Peyton.”

Her name sounded like a whisper uttered from the deep, husky voice that infiltrated the recesses of her deep sleep. She slowly opened her eyes, looked up and immediately connected with the most gorgeous and intense dark orbs staring down at her.

Her heart kicked up a beat when she thought back to the time she’d first been ensnared by Angelo’s eyes. She hadn’t been in the Di Meglio’s humongous house in the Hamptons for more than a few hours when Sam’s tall, gorgeous and handsome-as-sin brother walked through the door.

Bringing her thoughts back to the present, Peyton’s gaze shifted from his eyes to his mouth, and for a spellbinding moment she was mesmerized by the shape of his full and sensuous lips. They had kissed her last night and practically devoured her lips. Why? If he had been in the kissing mood, she was sure there were plenty of women at the resort who would have eagerly obliged. But then, she hadn’t resisted either.

Now she was questioning her own actions last night, especially since she was no longer the starry-eyed twenty-two-year-old who’d had a crush on him. She was twenty-nine and looking at thirty too soon to suit her. But there was nothing she could do about it. “Angelo? What are you doing here?” she heard herself asking.

“I wanted to check in on you before leaving to play tennis.”

Rubbing a hand down her face to wipe the sleep from her eyes, she sat up in bed, careful to keep the sheet covering her in place. She had very little on, which was normally how she slept—usually in a top but rarely any bottoms. “What time is it?”

“A little past noon.”

“Noon!” she said in shock.

“Yes.”

Peyton rubbed another hand across her face. She usually was an early riser and had never slept this late before. But then she usually didn’t drink much either, and the pounding in her head reminded her that she’d started celebrating her birthday early.

“Here, I think you can use this.”

He handed her a cup of coffee. “I made it just the way you like.”

She took the cup and was about to ask how he knew the way she liked her coffee and then she remembered. He had stayed at her place a couple of years ago when Sam had been out of town and had probably become aware of her habits. But not all of them. He’d never known how much she’d lusted after him during those five days. She’d confided in Sam and Mac, and they’d all had a good laugh about it later, specifically about how many times she’d been tempted to jump his bones.

She took a sip of her coffee. He was right. It was just the way she liked with just the right amount of cream and sugar. “The housekeeper let you in?” she asked. The one thing the resort prided itself on was its security.

“No, I kept the key you gave me last night. I checked on you earlier this morning and you were sleeping soundly.”

She blinked. “You came into my room while I was sleeping?”

“Yes.”

The thought that he had come into her room when she’d been unaware annoyed her a little. She hoped it hadn’t been one of those times she had kicked the covers off her body or he would have seen more than he had needed to.

Evidently it hadn’t been one of those times. At least she could only assume it hadn’t been since he was acting normal. But then he had kissed her, and he was acting normal about that as well. She reminded herself that this was a man who had his pick of women, and she was certain a lot of them had a better looking body than hers and could probably kiss a whole lot better. Seeing her partially naked on top of the covers and kissing her the way he had probably hadn’t done anything for him.

“I figured when you did wake up you’d have a hangover and would need the coffee,” he said, interrupting her thoughts.

She did, and it certainly hit the spot. She took another sip and studied him when he moved away from the bed. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a white shirt and was sexy as sin.

“So what are your plans today, Peyton?”

He’d almost caught her staring when he turned to look at her. She shrugged. “I’ve slept a good bit of it away. I plan to shower, dress and then go downstairs to get something to eat.”

She took another sip. She appreciated him thinking enough to make her coffee, but why was he hanging around? This was a singles resort. Certainly he had more important things to do. “Is something wrong, Angelo?” she asked. Was he uncomfortable with the thought that he’d actually kissed her last night? Should she let him know it hadn’t been a big deal?

He opened his mouth to say something then stopped, and as if he’d made his mind up about something, he said, “I need to ask a favor of you. If you can’t do it, I understand.”

She raised a brow, wondering what kind of favor he needed. “What is it?”

“I ran into someone I wish weren’t here,” he said.

She chuckled. “Um, let me guess. An old girlfriend?”

“Hardly. She and I never dated. She was a former client of my father’s and has a tendency to make a nuisance of herself at times.”

Peyton looked at him, clearly confused. “This is a singles resort,” she reminded him. “The single women here are looking for single men. Last I heard you’re still single.”

He leaned back against her dresser. “Yes, but I’m not looking for anyone. I came here to get away. Escape the media, so to speak, to relax.”

She shook her head and laughed. “Relax? You at a singles retreat? And you actually thought you would relax?”

He chuckled. “I could only hope. Things have been crazy for me since winning that case.”

“So I heard. I also heard that one of those reality stars has been trying to grab your attention. I’m surprised you’re not breaking your neck giving in to her. Most men would.”

“I’m not like most men.”

She took a sip as her gaze scanned his body. Yes, she’d definitely agree that he wasn’t like most men. At least he wasn’t like any she’d ever encountered. “So what’s the favor?”

“For the next couple of days I’d like us to pretend that we’re lovers. I know it might cramp your style since you’re single and undoubtedly came here looking for single men.”

She laughed. “No, I didn’t come here looking for single men. This is a birthday gift from Mac and Sam, and God knows I need a break. That last case I worked on was a doozy.”

“So you didn’t come here looking for a man like I didn’t come looking for a woman.”

“Yes, that sounds about right.”

“Then you won’t have any problem pretending to be my lover.”

She held up her hand. “Whoa, wait a minute, I didn’t say that. I’m not good at pretending and especially about something like that.”

“It will be easy. All you have to do is follow my lead.”

Follow his lead.

And that was what she was afraid of, if the kiss last night was anything to go by. She had followed his lead and experienced something she’d never felt before. Evidently he’d forgotten their kiss since he hadn’t brought it up. But then she really hadn’t thought it meant anything to him anyway. Why would it have?

“I need to think about it, Angelo. Although I didn’t come here looking for a man, I want to have fun. Besides, I met a couple of nice guys last night.”

“They were jerks trying to get you drunk.”

She’d figured as much, but still. Okay, what happened wasn’t very smart on her part. She should have known better and acted responsibly. That dress had been asking for trouble. Instead of drawing the attention of nice guys, she’d caught the interest of a few less-than-desirables.

“I guess I’m going to have to deal with Lela Stillwell on my own.”

Peyton’s attention was captured. “Lela Stillwell? Isn’t that the woman who Sam doesn’t get along with—the woman who falsely accused that NFL player of forcing himself on her when it was actually the other way around?”

“Yes, she’s the one.”

“And she’s here?” she asked.

“Yes, she’s here.”

Peyton had never met Lela Stillwell, but Sam had mentioned her often enough and none of it had been positive. According to Sam, Lela Stillwell had been after Angelo for years and had blamed Sam for Angelo not reciprocating Lela’s interest. Peyton also remembered Sam saying that Lela had added salt to the wound on what was to have been Sam’s wedding day to a guy named Guy Carrington. Lela had spread rumors about how things had gone down that were as far from the truth as they could get.

“Will you at least think about it?”

His question interrupted Peyton’s thoughts, and she glanced over at him. “Okay, I’ll do that, but I’m not making any promises.”

He smiled. “Thanks, and I appreciate it.”

Peyton felt a surge of warmth settle in the pit of her stomach. She tilted her head back to glance up at him. “Now I need you to leave so I can get up and get dressed.”

“Are you coming down to participate in the activities lined up for today?” he asked.

“Not sure how many activities I’ll get to. But then I don’t plan on hanging around in this room for the rest of the day either. Sam and Mac paid too much money for me to not have fun. Besides, I’m hungry and want to grab something at that restaurant downstairs.”

“Well, if you need anything, let me know. I’m on this floor.”

She arched her brows. “You are?”

“Yes.”

He smiled again before turning to leave. Her cheeks burned when she realized just how long she’d stared at his backside before hearing the door close behind him. It was only then that she thought about his proposition to avoid Lela Stillwell.

Truth be told, she couldn’t imagine pretending to be his lover, although it was a tempting idea. But then, she thought as she eased out of bed, how much pretending would she have to do to be enamored with Angelo? She didn’t have a thing for him now, but she could easily see herself getting into character and that was one of the things that bothered her. She had felt something for him at one time. And although it had quickly passed once reality had set in, the feelings were still there. Was it possible that her feelings for Angelo could be rekindled?

She pushed such thoughts from her mind. That had been years ago. A lot had happened in her life since then. Although she no longer resented those who were wealthy, she still couldn’t get past the fact that sometimes Sam reminded Peyton that she still walked around with a chip on her shoulder, as if she was holding a grudge against anyone lucky enough to be born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

Her thoughts shifted to the likes of the man-hungry, snooty-as-hell Lela Stillwell. At least the Di Meglios with all their money never came across as a family who thought they were better than anyone else. Whenever she spent time with them they had always made her feel welcome, like part of the family. And no one had looked down their ultra-rich nose at her. She had appreciated it, because heaven knows the situation was different than that first time she’d felt like a fish out of water.

Her thoughts returned to Angelo and his ridiculous proposal as she walked toward the bathroom, pulling down her top to hide the missing bottom. She was hungry, and she couldn’t think on an empty stomach. Peyton wasn’t sure why the thought of what he’d asked her to do intrigued her, but it did. Maybe it was the possibility that going along with his plan meant she might get another kiss out of it, or maybe it was something else.

Chapter 4

The corners of Angelo’s lips were still smiling when he entered his own room moments later. As he closed the door behind him, his mind was already contemplating his next move.

If anyone would have told him a few years ago that he, DeAngelo Antonio Di Meglio, would be in hot pursuit of any woman he would have thought they were crazy. But here he was, at a singles resort filled with women, and he was chomping at the bit for just one. But she wasn’t just any woman. He decided two years ago that she was the woman he wanted. Peyton was the one he intended to spend the rest of his life with. Now if he could only get her to thinking along those same lines.

Now, for his plan.

He didn’t consider himself manipulative—far from it. But at this stage of his life he was calculating and determined, and he planned to use every opportunity he could to sway Peyton. Convincing her to go along with his romantic ruse was the first move. If that didn’t work, it was on to Plan B.

He exhaled and couldn’t help the sly grin that touched his lips. Lela’s presence was a godsend. He of all people knew how close Mac, Sam and Peyton were. So it was obvious that if Sam didn’t care for the woman, Peyton wouldn’t either. Peyton and Sam might disagree on a lot of things, but their friendship and loyalty to one another was rock solid.

He glanced around his suite thinking that being one of the partners in the resort had its perks. The humongous room was divided into a small kitchen with a bar, a living room and a huge bedroom with a balcony that overlooked the beautiful blue waters of the Atlantic Ocean. He was a Di Meglio so he was used to the finer things in life. Still, it was nice to just take time to appreciate all the things he’d been blessed to have come his way.

A few years before, an escaped convict—hell-bent on getting even with Angelo’s father—decided to turn his attention to Angelo. He’d never forget the night the man had finally made good on his threats and had forced Angelo off the road.

Luckily, he had survived. But it had taken coming that close to death to open his eyes and make him realize that tomorrow wasn’t promised, and that there was more to life than partying and women. His cousins couldn’t understand how he could walk away from both. After all, he was only in his mid-thirties and what his cousins called the prime of his bachelorhood. Now his focus had changed. Recently, he along with several businessmen—including his brother-in-law’s cousin, Lee Madaris—had invested in several resorts around the world. In addition to Dunwoody Cove, they also had resorts in London and Paris.

Being an attorney was his career, but he didn’t intend on making it his life. He hoped his investments would make it possible for him to retire by his fortieth birthday. The last thing he wanted to do was follow in his parents’ footsteps and still be practicing law until his retirement. Although his parents still enjoyed practicing law and were still sharp as tacks, he believed there was a life outside of the Di Meglio law firm. He was content with how things were now, but was already planning his future, and heading the list was Peyton Mahoney.

Angelo kicked off his shoes and was about to stroll into his kitchen to grab a bottle of water out of the refrigerator when his cell phone rang. He rolled his eyes when he saw it was Sam on his caller ID.

He connected the call. “This had better be good, Samari.”

He heard his sister’s soft chuckle. “Mac’s here in the office with me, and we want to know how Peyton is doing.”

He dropped down on the sofa. Didn’t his sister and Mac have law cases to work on? Babies to take care of? Husbands to keep happy? “And how is she supposed to be doing? I just got here last night.”

And just in time, he thought, although he wasn’t going to mention anything to Mac and Sam about Peyton almost being taken advantage of. They probably wouldn’t have believed him, knowing Peyton would never let her guard down. Though he was hoping she would continue to let loose, but only with him.

“Well, just to let you know, we’re beginning to have second thoughts about helping you win over Peyton.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, refusing to let the tension settle there. It was too late for them to have second thoughts now, but he was curious as to why. “Is there a reason for this change of heart?”

“An article in today’s paper might have something to do with it.”

He lifted his brow. “What article?”

“Some woman is claiming the two of you are in a hot and heavy affair, but you asked her to keep it secret. She says she has phone records to prove it.”

“Bring ’em on.” Angelo glanced across the room at the clock to check the time. “When did you start believing everything you read, Sam?”

“I don’t. We just don’t want Peyton caught up in your madness.”

He drew in a deep breath, knowing that by we his sister meant both she and Mac. “It’s nothing more than a publicity stunt, Sam. You and Mac should know that.”

“We do. However, we figure that’s just the beginning, and we’d prefer sparing Peyton any such foolishness.”

He tensed a bit. He needed his sister and Mac as allies. Wavering support from them was the last thing he needed. He had been upfront with them about his feelings for Peyton and the two hadn’t seemed particularly surprised. He had only confirmed what they had already thought, and like him, they figured it was time to finally let her know how he felt. Because they knew Peyton better than anyone, they thought a subtle approach was better than being more direct.

He didn’t expect Peyton to suddenly fall head over heels for him in the next two weeks, but he did intend to get something going that would continue after they left the Bahamas. That would give them both time to build the type of relationship that was solid and one that could endure just about anything, especially claims like the one that appeared in the newspaper today.

The thought of a long-distance romance didn’t bother him since he had made it a point to visit Oklahoma often before Sam moved to Houston. And he could visit his good friend Frederick Damon Rowe—nicknamed FDR—another attorney who had worked in their family law firm, had married and moved to Oklahoma.

“I gave you and Mac my word that everything would work out fine in the end. The two of you are going to have to trust me on this, Sam.”

There was a pause on the other end, and he understood why. The three had been best of friends since law school and were very protective of each other. Then Sam said in a threatening tone, “I swear, Angelo, if you hurt her in any way, you’re going to have hell to pay when you deal with me and Mac.”

“Okay, I hear you. Now let me and Peyton have the next two weeks in peace without any more calls from you two. From here on out, I take care of Peyton. And I would never hurt her.”

There was another pause. “You do care for her, don’t you?” his sister asked, in a voice that sounded like it had finally dawned on her just how much.

“Yes, I do. More than you know. Now goodbye.”

He disconnected the phone. Angelo couldn’t recall exactly when he’d fallen for Peyton. He just knew that he had. He began to realize it during his stay with her in Oklahoma, but it had taken him a few years after that to accept what his feelings meant.

And then it was that kiss they’d shared the night before, a kiss he couldn’t stop thinking about. He sat down and rested his head against the sofa cushion and closed his eyes. Images of Peyton filtered through his mind, how he would stand on the sidelines at parties and family events and watch her. Now was the time to act on that desire.

And he had just two weeks to get the wheels in motion.

Chapter 5

Peyton felt a little uncomfortable standing by herself in the elevator as other women gossiped about men they’d checked out since arriving. She would never have imagined herself coming here on her own, but would have definitely enjoyed it with Mac and Sam. But that was before the husbands and babies. Now they didn’t live the same lifestyle nor have the same freedom they’d had before they were married. Their priorities had changed and understandably so. And although they went out of their way to still include her in most things, it wasn’t the same. They were no longer a part of each other’s lives the way they once were. She knew that and figured they knew it as well.

“Girl, have you seen that fine brother walking around here? The one they say is part Italian—the same one whose name has been in the news a lot lately after winning that high-profile political corruption case?”

Peyton’s ears perked up when she heard the woman whispering about Angelo.

“Yeah, I saw him today at breakfast. He’s fine, fine, fine. I couldn’t eat for checking him out. I wouldn’t mind him being my baby’s daddy.”

The other women in the group giggled, and Peyton could only shake her head. She understood the women going gaga at the sight of Angelo. Hadn’t she done the same thing herself the first time she’d seen him? But seriously—Angelo being some baby’s daddy? He would undoubtedly be a great catch for any woman, but she didn’t think he was ready to take on a wife or fatherhood.

She shrugged. Seriously. None of that was any of her business. Angelo was a big boy, and she was certain that he could handle the likes of any wannabe-baby-mamas. Then why had he asked her to help him avoid a certain woman?

Peyton figured he wasn’t dealing with just any woman. He was dealing with Lela Stillwell. And from the horror stories Sam had painted, the woman could take the description of spoiled, selfish and hellish to a whole other level.

The elevator reached the lobby, and Peyton waited for the other women to get off. They hurried on their way, probably to enjoy the fun that awaited them.

Dunwoody Cove was a huge place with lots of activities, if the brochure she’d been given upon arriving was anything to go by. She hadn’t signed up to take part in any special activities, but she planned to attend the nightly parties. And the next time around she would keep her eye out for guys who were trying to take advantage of her.

Her stomach growled, and she increased her steps to make it to the restaurant. There were other places to eat, but she liked this one. The items on the menu were simple, and she wasn’t tempted to purchase anything she might not like. Upon reaching the café, she glanced around, grateful it wasn’t crowded and that there were several empty tables. She would grab something to eat and then walk around a bit and check things out. Since she liked to swim she thought about hitting the pool later.

When she moved toward an empty table, a guy passed by her and met her gaze, but then quickly turned away, seemingly picking up his pace as he walked out of the café. She realized they’d met just last night. He’d been the one trying to get her drunk. She wondered if he was in such a hurry because he thought she was going to confront him about last night. Well, he was wrong if he thought so. She was just as much to blame. But like she’d told Angelo, she had come here to have a good time.

She was studying the menu when a sudden rush of heat suffused her. She glanced up. “Angelo.”

He slid in the chair across from her. “Glad you finally came down to grab something to eat. And I forgot to mention that I like your new hairstyle.”

A wave of pleasure skimmed across her skin at the sound of his deep, husky voice. She had just seen him a few hours ago, so why was she reacting to him this way? She was convinced it had everything to do with that kiss from last night, and it was a kiss that she was still trying to figure out.

She shifted in her chair and slid her fingers through her hair. Usually she wore her dreadlocked hair down her shoulders, but for the trip she had gotten them done up in lush curls that brought out its fullness, body and gloss. She had gotten a lot of compliments and had to admit she liked the style as well.

“Thanks. The hairstyle was Sam’s idea.”

He chuckled as he pulled a menu out of the rack on the table. “Now why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“It shouldn’t. You know your sister. She jumps at the chance to give anyone a makeover.”

“Yes, and was the dress last night her idea as well?”

Peyton smiled. “Yes. But I have to admit I like it.”

“So do I. You looked good in it.” He leaned over the table. “But between us, you looked pretty darn good even before Sam’s makeover.”

“Thanks.” She tried to fight back how her heartbeat had quickened with his compliment. She took a sip of the water the waitress had placed on the table and then glanced over at him. She could actually breathe in his scent. Whatever cologne he was wearing had his name on it.

“Angelo?”

He glanced over his menu and his gaze met hers. “Hmm?”

She thought he sounded good. Even his hmm had a sexiness that made her shift in her chair and cross her legs. “All this isn’t necessary, you know,” she said.

An innocent-looking expression appeared on his face. And was there a little mole on the side of his nose? Why hadn’t she noticed it before? Why on earth was she noticing it now?

“What isn’t necessary?” he asked.

“Telling me how nice my hair looks and complimenting me on the dress I wore last night, especially since I know you barely had a chance to notice it before whisking me off to my room. And saying I looked good even before my makeover was really pushing it.”

“I take it you don’t believe I was sincere in what I said.”

She leaned over closer toward him. “Look, this is Peyton and not some woman you feel you have to impress. Not sure what’s going on with you but—”

“What do you mean you’re not sure what’s going on with me?” he asked, before taking a sip of his water.

She shrugged. “I think you feel that by being here you need to practice your player lines. You’re trying to steer clear of Lela, and you think I’m safe. Good old safe and reliable Peyton Mahoney.”

He set his glass down and leaned back in his chair. “Is that what you think?”

She decided to come clean. “Honestly, I don’t know what to think. But I believe whatever is going on here started with that kiss last night.”

A smooth smile touched his lips. “No, it all started when you said you wanted me to remember you weren’t Sam.”

His words should have kick-started her memory of last night and what she’d said but they didn’t. “I don’t understand.”

“And you have no idea what that kiss was all about?”

She frowned, trying to recall if there was any part of last night she had forgotten. She swallowed deeply before saying, “Please tell me that in my delirious state I didn’t come on to you or something.”

He chuckled. “Or something?”

She frowned at him. “You know what I mean.”

He placed his menu back on the table. “No, you didn’t come on to me, but evidently you think I came on to you.”

No, she really didn’t think that. But they had shared a kiss, and she needed to know why. “I really don’t know what to think,” she said, deliberately keeping her voice low when she saw one of the groups of women from the elevator walking in and taking a table not far away. They gave her a surprised look, as if it was hard to believe someone who looked like Angelo would be spending time with her. She might not be all dolled up like they were, but she didn’t look bad.

She glanced back over at Angelo and a thought suddenly entered her mind. Maybe the kiss hadn’t been all that hot and heavy like she assumed it had been. Maybe it was nothing more than a brotherly peck, and she had dreamt that it was something else.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, Peyton?”

Pretty little head? Boy, he was full of compliments today. She held up her hand to cut off any further words from him. “Let’s just forget it.”

“Forget what? The kiss, or your thinking that I have ulterior motives for complimenting you?”

“Doesn’t matter. Have you forgotten about Lela Stillwell and what you asked me to do?”

“No.”

“Okay, then,” she said, deciding that now they were finally getting somewhere.

“Will you do it?”

Peyton hesitated. She was certain she had fully slept off her hangover, so why had her head begun spinning again? She wondered if she should let Angelo know he was practically making her dizzy. “I’ve given it some thought.”

“But you haven’t made up your mind.”

Actually, she had. She wouldn’t do it since she wasn’t sure if she could keep her infatuation with him from resurfacing. It had been bad enough two years ago when he’d stayed at her place those few days. She had told him to make himself comfortable and feel right at home. He’d done just that. He had thought nothing of walking around shirtless and letting her see him in just his pajama bottoms.

“Actually, I have. I don’t think doing something like that will work. Who in their right mind would believe we have something going on?”

He glanced over at her, seeming surprised that she would say such a thing. “Why wouldn’t they?”

She rolled her eyes. “Trust me, nobody would think of us as a couple.”

“I disagree.” He glanced around the café. “There’s not a woman in here who I could imagine myself with besides you.”

Following his gaze she glanced around the room, too, studying the various groups of women. Not surprisingly, the majority of them were staring right back at them. They were probably wondering why he was sitting with her instead of them.

She returned her gaze to Angelo and her heart rate increased when she saw he was staring intently at her. “Not that I think I’m chopped liver or anything, but look at them.”

“I did.”

“And what do you see?”

“Women—plenty of them with their faces made up, their hair in place and their nails done. And every last one of them with I’ll-eat-you-alive-if-given-the-chance looks on their faces,” he said.

She lifted a brow. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“For me it is. I told you why I’m here. And the thought that anyone wouldn’t think we’re a couple is simply crazy. You are better for me than any other woman in this room, hands down.”

Was that irritation she heard in his voice? She fought back a laugh that he would waste his time being annoyed at such a thing. “Hands down, huh?” she said, deciding to make light of their conversation.

He leaned in closer and the look in his eyes told her he wasn’t making polite conversation. “So what do you think, Peyton?”

If he thought he had answered all her questions, she had news for him. “Why me, Angelo?”

Their gazes held, and the look in his eyes had her heart pumping like crazy. She bit her bottom lip, feeling a sudden flutter in the pit of her stomach. For whatever reason, it appeared he was still annoyed with her.

“You’ve known me longer than anyone here, so I can trust you,” he finally said. “With you I don’t have to worry about your interest in me being purely financial or because of my newfound fame.”

His words were actually a compliment—kind of. And she couldn’t help the sensation that made her chest swell or the undercurrents that were making the tips of her nipples harden under her blouse. “I thought men who weren’t serious about women didn’t care one way or the other, as long as they were on top of their game.”

He shrugged his massive shoulders. “Maybe for some, but I’ve outgrown that.”

She waved off his words. “Whatever.”

“You don’t believe me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Angelo? No. But does it matter what I believe?”

He was spared from answering when the waitress came to take their order. Just as well, Peyton thought. He had told her more than enough fairy tales today anyway.

* * *

Angelo shifted in his chair thinking that every muscle in his body was feeling Peyton’s presence. Conversation for them had ceased for the moment while they enjoyed their meal.

She had ordered a lot, and he was surprised she ate it all. Since he’d eaten breakfast and lunch, all he wanted was something light and decided a bowl of soup would be enough, or so he’d thought. But more than once he swiped a French fry off her plate.

He slowly chewed on the fry thinking he could feel the connection between them even if she couldn’t. Did she even sense what was taking place? Had she caught on that he was laying the groundwork for what was to come? What would eventually happen between them?

More than once he saw her glance at the group of women sitting at a table across the room. He was very much aware that the women were staring at them and had been doing so for quite a while. He wondered if that’s what was bothering Peyton and decided to ask.

He glanced over at her and before he could speak his eyes devoured her, taking in the smooth, creamy brown texture of her skin, her dark eyes that preferred studying the food on her plate rather than him, and the way her mouth was curved in a pout.

He lifted a brow. “Would you like to tell me what’s wrong, Peyton?”

She glanced up, met his gaze, held it and was about to move her mouth to speak when they both noticed a presence at their table. He lifted his gaze and stared into the face of Lela Stillwell.

Where the hell had she come from? And why had she chosen just that precise moment to appear? And what right did she have to glare at him like he’d been caught doing something wrong?

“Lela?” he said, acknowledging her presence.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Lela said in that syrupy voice that made him cringe. Then she had the audacity to reach out and place her hand over his. Now she was being disrespectful to Peyton, and he wasn’t going to put up with it. He reached out and removed her hand from his.

“You were looking for me for what reason?”

“I thought we could spend the afternoon together.”

He gave her a smile that he knew didn’t quite reach his eyes. Then he glanced over to Peyton. “I’m sure Lela somehow forgot her manners, so let me make the introductions. Peyton, this is Lela Stillwell. Lela, this is Peyton Mahoney.” The two women glanced at each other, but neither extended their hands, nor did they exchange pleasantries.

In fact, as if dismissing Peyton altogether, Lela turned her attention back to him and said, “Well, are you ready?”

He lifted a brow. “Ready for what?”

“For us to spend the afternoon together. Didn’t you read the brochure you were given when you checked in?”

He had to remind himself that standing before him was a woman who could take the words spoiled, selfish and narcissistic to a whole new level. “Evidently I didn’t. What did it say?” he asked.

She smiled. “Tonight the resort is hosting the couples’ ball, and it would be best to claim your date early.”

He stared at her for a moment and then just to make sure he understood what she was insinuating, he said, “So you’re claiming me?”

She smiled brightly. “Of course.”

Sometimes people simply amazed him, especially women, and at that moment, particularly Lela. She had been born with a silver spoon in her mouth; had attended some of the best schools; had been introduced to all the finer things in life. But when it came to substance—namely manners and respecting others—she might as well have been raised by a pack of wild dogs. Especially compared to Peyton—who had been raised by her grandmother in a less than desirable part of Chicago, rarely saw her mother growing up, didn’t know her father and had to pay her own way through college and law school but still possessed the kind of class and grace that money couldn’t buy. If the two women were pitted against one another, Peyton was the winner hands down.

He held Lela’s gaze and was about to open his mouth to tell Lela that it would be a cold day in hell before he would allow her to claim him for anything, when he heard Peyton’s soft chuckle.

He glanced across the table in time to hear her say to Lela, “Sorry, Ms. What’s-Your-Name, but you’re a tad too late. Angelo might not have read the brochure, but I did. And he’s already been claimed—by me.”

Chapter 6

The coffee machine in Peyton’s suite was taking too long to brew and the steady slow drip was driving her crazy. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Angelo hadn’t been standing across the room watching her every move.

After putting Lela in her place and watching her stomp away like the spoiled brat she was, Peyton had finished her coffee. Angelo had had the good sense to keep quiet while she did so. Telling him she’d see him later, she’d left the restaurant. To her surprise, when she passed the group of women from the elevator, they smiled and gave her the thumbs-up. Evidently they had witnessed Lela Stillwell’s behavior from across the room and were glad she had been put in her place.

Peyton had met a lot of rude people during her lifetime, but she was convinced Lela took the icing off the cake. It wasn’t what she said, but how she had said it, like she had every right to talk down to people. Who had made her queen? How dare Lela assume that even though Angelo was having lunch with Peyton, that she was insignificant and that Lela could make a play for him right in front of her and show her disrespect. Anger raced through her body.

The nerve of that hussy, she thought.

“I hope that coffee you’re brewing is for drinking and not to throw on me.”

She looked back at Angelo over her shoulder. She had let him in a few moments before, and he was still there standing with his back against the closed door, as if trying to decide whether it was safe to stay. “I don’t know what I plan to do just yet,” she said, still fuming inside.

“Why are you angry at me? It’s not my fault Lela is the way she is.”

He was right, it wasn’t his fault. But still, why was he like a magnet for some of the most ill-mannered, obnoxious women around? Why?

She turned around and glared at him. “I hope you know that I had made up my mind not to get involved with you and that woman. You’re a grown-ass man who should be able to fight off unwanted advances on your own. However, Lela Stillwell takes the damn cake. That heifer had the nerve, the damn audacity, to stand there and act like I wasn’t there, like I was no better than the friggin’ ketchup bottle on the table. Who in the hell gave her the right to ignore me that way? As if I was insignificant!”

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