A redeeming passion

Ten years ago, rebellious corporate heir Alexander Diallo was living in Jamaica, a world away from his moneyed roots. But his youthful indiscretions have followed the successful computer engineer back to Miami. Now he’s being emotionally blackmailed into romancing a perfect stranger. The seduction becomes all too real when Lex starts falling for Noelle Palmer...and longs to turn the pleasure-driven charade into a more permanent union.

Being abandoned at the altar left emotional scars, and Noelle isn’t ready to trust again—even if Lex is everything she ever dreamed of in a lover. His sensuality and magnetic charm tempt her to let down her guard and open her heart. Until she discovers that they didn’t meet by chance. Can Lex convince her that what began as a deception has deepened into a love that can erase all the mistakes of the past?

“You look beautiful,” Lex said. His whiskey-scented breath brushed Noelle’s cheek and she shivered. “I thought about you last night.”

If she had any doubts about what he meant, the firm and possessive curve of his hand on her hip dismissed them all. She licked her lips, wanting to be reasonable and sane. This was the same man who’d had another woman hanging off him just a few minutes before. But this was also the same man who made her knees weak with just one look. His hand on her hip guided her back into the wall.

“No,” she said, although she wasn’t sure what she was saying no to.

“You didn’t think about me?” He stepped closer, like he was under a spell and couldn’t help himself, his eyes focused only on her.

“I didn’t,” she lied.

Up until she’d fallen asleep, Lex had been wrapped firmly around her very thoughts. Wondering why she wanted him so much, wondering if she could have him, hoping...

He stopped a few breaths from her. “Kiss me,” he said.

“What?”

“Kiss me. I can’t—”

Dear Reader,

I’m Lex Diallo. Former stripper, current software engineer and recent celibate.

Food, family and the favors of generous women are, or at least were, some of my favorite things to enjoy when I’m not working. I don’t like to tell people who my family is, but by the time I finish saying my last name and flash this gorgeous smile, they know I’m one of the Miami Diallos and very closely connected to their multibillion-dollar cosmetics company. My family’s money isn’t what makes me sexy, though.

To find out more about me, get deeper between these covers and come take a long, hard look. I promise it’ll be worth it.

Lex Diallo

Bare Pleasures

Lindsay Evans

www.millsandboon.co.uk

LINDSAY EVANS was born in Jamaica and currently lives and writes in Atlanta, Georgia, where she’s constantly on the hunt for inspiration, club in hand. She loves good food and romance and would happily travel to the ends of the earth for both. Find out more at www.lindsayevanswrites.com.

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

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

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

Alexander Diallo was taking a break from casual hookups.

He sipped his champagne, his back to the wall of the gallery where his sister was currently having her first solo exhibition, trying not to think how this would impact his social life.

“Hey, Lex.” His brother Kingsley walked up with a champagne glass of his own, tapped Lex’s glass with it. “Did you congratulate Lola yet?”

“No, not yet. She’s a little busy.”

In the center of the room, their younger sister stood surrounded by nearly a dozen people. Willowy and petite with big anime eyes her siblings often teased her about, Lola, who was two years younger than Lex, looked years away from being twenty-six. She wore some sort of pale green, flowy dress that brushed the floor, a contrast to her dark and moody paintings on the gallery walls.

“Yeah.” Kingsley sipped his champagne and swept his eyes around the rest of the gallery. “A lot of people are here tonight.” He said it like he was surprised.

“Why not? She’s popular enough and not just on Facebook.” Lex tracked his eyes around the room, not so subtly checking out all the gorgeous women not related to him. This resolution wasn’t off to a great start.

“Lola is a pretty girl everyone loves to be around, but that doesn’t translate to getting people to show up to things that matter,” Kingsley said.

An excited squeal caught their attention. Lola had wandered away from her adoring crowd and now stood near one of her more expensive paintings with a longtime friend of the family. A check changed hands.

“Looks like she just sold something,” Lex said.

Kingsley nodded. “To one of Mama’s friends. Let’s hope she can keep selling this stuff once she wears out the family connections. Most of her art-school friends are as broke as she is.”

Lex made a deliberately noncommittal noise. His parents were rich. Not as rich as the Kennedys or even Oprah, but they did well enough as owners of a multibillion-dollar cosmetics corporation. Their money, though, was not their children’s money, even with the millions held in trust for each and made available after their thirtieth birthdays.

He hated the assumption that just because his parents had a lot of money, that he did too. Over the years, he’d done a lot to distance himself from that belief, from the Diallo Corporation and from money he never earned. Not all his siblings felt the same way; hell, maybe only a couple of them did. Kingsley, the oldest of the thirteen, was their mother’s right hand at the company while Wolfe, the second oldest, had built a business of his own from nothing. Or as close to nothing as a person can get after borrowing start-up money from their parents.

Lex didn’t want any of it. He fought his whole life not to be just another Diallo trust fund kid. He wasn’t naive enough to think he was ever truly financially on his own. But what he had, except for the money held in trust, he’d earned for himself.

“What are you doing after this?” Kingsley asked. His champagne glass was now empty and he looked around the gallery with easy hunger. Like Lex would’ve done a few months or even weeks before, he was on the hunt for feminine distraction. “We’re all heading to the bar after the gallery closes.”

“I’ll come with you,” Lex said.

“Good. Maybe you can find a hot girl at the bar to take that frown off your face.”

Lex brushed a hand over his face, hoping that gesture, like a mime’s trick, would wipe away the frown he hadn’t even been aware of. “I’m good,” he said. “I’m not having sex these days.” The confession rolled smoothly enough off his tongue. He’d practiced saying it out aloud.

Kingsley laughed though, a sharp crack that attracted more than a few amused stares. “You all right?”

“Yeah. I’m just not into expending that much energy right now.”

His brother looked him up and down, wearing a smile of disbelief. “Maybe expending some...energy is exactly what you need.”

“Don’t even start,” Lex muttered.

His last four relationships had quickly gone south because they got physical way too fast. And after the sex was done, he and the women realized they had nothing left between them. Just sweat and apathy. Those relationships left him feeling emotionally drained and unbalanced. Not that he was looking for meaningful ever-afters, but it all became too much.

“Sex is fun,” he said to Kingsley. “But that’s not the kind of fun I’m looking for right now.”

His brother nodded, looking thoughtful. “But you’re okay, right? Nothing wrong with your...?” He waved his hand south of Lex’s waist.

“No, man!”

“And it’s nothing from before?” Kingsley pressed. Sometimes he took his role as the oldest Diallo sibling a little too seriously.

Still, a mutual memory from ten years ago flared between them. Lex’s incessant rebellion had frustrated their parents enough to send him off to Jamaica right after high school. Back then, he’d been the knucklehead son doing the dumbest crap just because he could. Taking his father’s car for a joyride. Bringing women into the house to screw when nobody was home. Setting other people’s property on fire. Things that infuriated his father and finally made his mother say “enough” in a big way. She sent Lex away to Jamaica for college and to learn better manners. He spent two out of his four years on the island before coming back to America and finishing up at MIT with a degree in electrical engineering and computer science.

“No. Everything’s cool,” Lex told Kingsley. So far, none of his bad behavior had come back to haunt him.

He took another sip of his champagne and then froze when a flash of long legs caught his eye. Very slowly, so he wouldn’t chase away the gorgeous apparition, he lowered his glass to get a better look. High heels. Rounded calves with a hint of muscle. A familiar heat snaked low in his belly and pooled behind his zipper.

He wanted to see more. But when he moved his eyes up to look at the rest of the woman, she disappeared behind a broad back clothed in a pinstripe jacket. Kingsley started to say something the same moment the woman reappeared from behind the pinstripe. She was in profile this time, showing off for him a body like a Coke bottle, thick thighs flowing up into a wide and round ass he easily imagined overflowing his hands. Her waist was ridiculously small. And her breasts... He licked his lips and gave his imagination free rein.

Kingsley waved a hand in front of his eyes, nearly choking with laughter. “Good luck with that celibacy thing.”

Lex blinked and took another swallow of champagne to ease the dryness in his throat. “I’m celibate, not blind,” he said, still staring at the woman. Her face was pretty in an ordinary way, red lips turned down slightly at the corners, her hair thick and straightened to brush just beneath her collarbones.

“Yeah, well, looking is just the first step. Especially if you’re gawking at her like that.”

Lex wanted to do more than look. Before his (now ill-advised) vow of celibacy, he’d have walked up to the woman, given her his number and definitely gotten hers. Then they’d probably end up in his bed later that evening. He slid his empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter and deliberately turned away from the woman.

“Well, now I’m not even looking,” he said.

“Okay, Lex.” Kingsley just laughed at him. What else were big brothers for?

A sharp, brittle sound, cutlery tapping on glass, captured Lex’s attention. The gallery’s entire focus was moving, conversations halting and flowing into silence to pay attention to Lola, who stood in the center of the room with a champagne glass and a dinner knife in her hands. When the room was quiet enough for her to be heard, she stopped tapping on the glass.

“Thank you all for coming tonight,” Lola said. “You have no idea what it means to see you all here celebrating this huge moment with me.”

Lex moved closer so he could see her better. His little sister was growing up. Four years out of grad school with her MFA in studio art and a museum job lined up, she was doing very well. Lola had high hopes of making it as an artist but was being responsible and had a backup plan just in case those hopes proved challenging. She was definitely her mother’s child, practical while firmly holding on to her dreams. With people from every aspect of her life celebrating her triumph with her, she was glowing. Lex winked when he caught her eye. She giggled in the middle of her speech.

“I couldn’t have made it here without the love and support of my family!” Lola grinned and threw her arms wide, nearly splashing the person closest to her with champagne. “I love you all so much!” Her twin, Leo, pushed through the crowd to hug her, his height and wide shoulders just about hiding her from everyone. He kissed her noisily on the cheek, smiling, to the sound of loud whistles and applause.

Lex grinned, proud of how his family stood with and helped each other. All his brothers and sisters were there to celebrate with Lola. Yeah. She was lucky. They were all fortunate to have each other. An elbow bumped into his and he turned, expecting Kingsley, but it wasn’t his brother who he saw. His breath hitched.

No. It can’t be her.

The woman who’d caught his attention turned toward the back of the room, but from just the shape of her cheek and chin, the long and narrow lines of her body he knew who it was. Panic dropped, swift and nauseating, into his belly. He stared at the woman, noting the changes from the last time they’d been in the same room. Her face leaner, her clothes more sophisticated and expensive. When she didn’t turn back to face him, he began to breathe a little easier.

“You okay, Lex?” Kingsley was suddenly at his side and lightly squeezing his arm. “You look a little gray.”

Gray? He felt like all the blood in his body had dropped to his feet, leaving him cold and shaking.

“I’m good.” He threw what he hoped was a reassuring smile his brother’s way and then turned again to the front of the room, slowing down his breathing. Although he was positive the woman saw him, she never acknowledged him. Maybe she didn’t realize who he was. Ten years was a long time. He’d changed a lot since then. His face was thinner, his body less obviously muscular. He’d even grown a couple of inches since those days of being an eighteen-year-old asshole. He took another breath.

“Everything is fine,” he said, hoping to convince himself.

When Lola finished her sweet, if disjointed, speech, Lex pushed his way through the crowd to congratulate her. She squealed when she saw him, a tiny whirlwind, and latched her arms around his waist, laughing. Lola smelled like champagne and whipped cream from the bonbons she’d insisted on serving. “I’m so glad you made it! I thought you’d be working again.”

Lex had been stuck in front of his computers, either at the office or at home, for most of the past few weeks. The project—fine-tuning a program for national law enforcement to help track, capture and prosecute human traffickers—took up more of his time than he’d initially planned. It kept him from at least one family dinner—he wasn’t sure his mother would ever forgive him—and had him regularly estranged from his bed a few nights a week. It was still a work in progress, important work, but there was no way he’d miss Lola’s first solo show.

“I am working,” Lex said. “It’s all up here.” He tapped his forehead. “I’m great at multitasking.”

She clung to his arm, smiling wide to reveal her slightly crooked bottom teeth. “Hmm. That’s why you’re the smart brother.”

“Oh, you do love me.” He laughed. Three of their brothers were self-made millionaires and one was on the fast track to NASA. “Get back to your adoring public.” He playfully pinched her side and she fell into his chest with an attack of the giggles. “Kingsley and I are waiting to buy you a drink after this is over.” He could sense his brother just behind him.

“Okay. But don’t run off with some skank before then.” She wagged a finger at them both. “Where are these skanks she’s talking about?” Kingsley asked, his eyes crinkling with laughter. “It’d be nice to run into a couple right now. I’d even handle your share since you’re on lockdown.”

Lex made sure to jab a sharp elbow into his brother’s side as he passed him and headed to the other end of the gallery where their parents stood together.

“That was rude,” Kingsley said loud enough for half the gallery to hear.

Lex ignored him but was grateful for his brother’s foolishness and whatever else the two of them would get into before the night was through. He needed a distraction from the woman in the gallery, an unwelcome phantom from his past. He’d have to eventually deal with her and everything she represented. But right now was for celebrating. Right now was for family.

Chapter 2

For Noelle, food was one of the true pleasures of life. She cooked well and often enough to please herself, but when she was someplace that served excellent food or visited a friend who could burn it up in the kitchen, she was in trouble. So she tried to stay away from the food at the gallery opening because it all looked sinfully good. In one of the smaller display alcoves in the back of the gallery, some evil genius had arranged sushi of every conceivable type and color on a model of an old-fashioned Japanese ship. The ship was half Noelle’s body length and the rolls were replaced every ten to fifteen minutes. All around the barge, arranged like waves on an ocean, lay golden cream puffs bursting with curls of whipped cream and dusted with powdered sugar.

She tried to stay away from the delicious display but couldn’t. Her sister had dragged her out of her house, and away from Netflix and her pint of pistachio ice cream, to mingle with people she didn’t know. Something Margot was doing more often lately. If she had to be away from her extremely comfortable couch, she might as well do something else she enjoyed. Like eat yummy-looking free sushi.

After taking three steps away, Noelle floated back toward the sushi barge. The smell of fresh soy sauce and pickled ginger moved around her like a teasing breeze. She paused to stare at it and then looked away. And saw something else that made her mouth spurt wet with hunger.

What might possibly be the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen stood near the front of the gallery. And he was staring at her. His lips faintly pink and parted. Tongue tucked suggestively into the moist V of the corner of his mouth in a way that made her thighs clench. Noelle frowned and took an unconscious step back at the sudden and ripe desire rising in her to plump her nipples and flutter her pulse. The dip of her spine connected with the sushi table. This man was nowhere near the type who usually caught her eye. She loved the Morris Chestnut types. Dark with silky skin and a six-pack she could scrub clothes on.

This man was nothing like that. He was pretty instead of handsome. Skin like roasted wheat, a slender build and not very tall. He was probably just at her height of five foot eleven. He hovered his mouth over the rim of his champagne and stared at her as if there was no one else in the room.

He stared without giving a damn who was watching him stare. Which was why it surprised her that he caught her attention so completely. He was looking at her, not at her face but at her legs, his compelling gaze gliding up her body in a way that was as thorough as it was intense. He took the champagne glass away from his mouth and licked his lips, a wet swipe of tongue that made her tremble a little, lean back against the table to keep her balance. A man wearing a pinstripe suit walked in front of her, broad and cheerful, saying something about the boat being edible, and rescued her from her disorientation.

Okay. Chill, girl.

She pressed a hand to her belly and turned away from the stranger at the same time the man took another step forward and made a sweeping gesture with his hands. The stranger was still looking at her. She could feel his stare like a hand on her thigh. Unexpected and arousing.

“You okay, Noelle?”

Her sister appeared at her side with a glass bottle of sparkling water in her hand. Slender and tense-looking with her straightened hair styled in a razor-sharp black bob, Margot was dressed in what Noelle called one of her Jessica Pearson suits. A gray couture number tight enough to inspire the proper amount of envy at her slim body, expensive enough to inspire jealousy of her presumably large wallet.

She passed the water to Noelle without asking if she was thirsty. Noelle gratefully took the bottle even as she felt the stranger’s eyes slide from her face. Margot was so used to taking care of her since their parents died that it was second nature by now. She gave to Noelle before she took anything for herself. Always looking out for her little sister.

“Thanks.” She drank the water, wincing at the effervescence that bit her tongue and throat. “This has been nice, but I think I’m ready to go.”

“But we just got here.” Margot tucked her handbag more firmly under her arm, instantly looking ready to leave although she obviously wanted to stay. “Lola’s about to talk about her artistic process, maybe even invite us to her studio.” Margot loved art. If she hadn’t been yanked into taking care of Noelle when they were both so young, Noelle imagined that she would’ve gone to art school too, maybe even had a solo show of her own and been happy. As it was, she didn’t think Margot was happy at all.

“It’s fine,” Margot cut herself off before Noelle could say anything. “We’ll leave. I’ll take you home after you finish your water.”

Earlier that afternoon, Margot had unexpectedly dropped by her house to tell her they had a “sister date.” She’d barely given Noelle enough time to put away her ice cream and turn off the television before whisking her off to coffee and then the Wynwood Art Gallery. Another of Margot’s constant efforts to get Noelle out of the house.

“I have money for a taxi.” She put a hand on her sister’s arm. “I know you want to stay.” She didn’t want to be responsible for Margot giving up yet another thing she enjoyed just for her. Noelle opened her purse to flash a twenty-dollar bill and then a credit card when Margot seemed less than impressed. “I promise I’m not going to be stranded if you stay here and enjoy yourself.”

Margot was still as a stone by Noelle’s side, her version of indecisiveness. “Please stay. I’ll be really sad if you don’t.”

At the mention of sad, a muscle twitched in Margot’s jaw. “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. Stay here and soak up enough culture for both of us.” Although she appreciated art as much as the next college graduate, this really wasn’t Noelle’s scene. She preferred bigger spaces, more adventurous projects. “I’m getting a little headache anyway,” she said. “Tell me everything I missed when I see you tomorrow. Okay?”

Margot’s agreement came reluctantly. “Okay.”

“Good.”

Margot hugged her tight, squeezed Noelle like she was about to disappear forever, and then let go with a sigh. “Text me when you get home.”

“I will.”

She called for an Uber and by the time she walked out into the humid Miami night and down the short flight of steps leading to the sidewalk, a car was already waiting to take her back to her small rented house in Miami Shores. At home, she only made it as far as the couch, where she sank into the comfortably worn cushions and kicked off her shoes.

She tossed her purse on the coffee table, knocking over a bottle of prescription pills. Without looking at them, she knew they were the antidepressants her doctor had prescribed. She was holding off on taking them, not completely convinced that they were what she needed. At least, she hoped not.

Noelle stretched her feet on top of the coffee table, nudging her purse and the pills. The sadness had come over her not too long after her fiancé left her three days before their wedding, tossing her aside with a sorry excuse about needing to find himself somewhere other than married to someone who barely knew herself either. Noelle had thought they were on the same path and would find what they needed together. But she had been wrong.

After seeing her doctor a few days ago, she realized she’d allowed that situation to drag her down to a place she never thought she’d be. A year later, she was thirty pounds heavier and never wanted to leave the house. It shocked her how easily it had happened. And to her, a woman who’d been so independent and self-reliant that she didn’t need a man to tell her what she was worth. But here she was, still reeling because his acceptance of her, his adoration, had all been a lie. He hadn’t really loved that, at nearly six feet, she was tall enough in high heels to look him in the eyes. He hadn’t loved her passion for food and the pleasure she took in eating. He had in no way enjoyed having to coax out her interest in sex.

A brief memory of the man in the gallery jolted through Noelle at the thought of sex. Her body pulsed. Every other thought tumbled away, discarded like clothes on a rushed journey to a bedroom. In the darkness of her living room, she blushed and skimmed a hand across her nipples, which were suddenly achingly hard. She whimpered in pleasure and the sound felt like it came from a stranger. A stranger...

What’s wrong with you?

She snatched her hand away from her body and squeezed her eyes shut to rid herself of the memory of him. The here and now was what mattered. He was a beautiful fantasy she needed to wipe from her mind.

But, lying in the dark with her body pulsing dimly for the stranger, Noelle found that was easier said than done.

Chapter 3

A week after the gallery exhibition, Lex still couldn’t get the stunning woman out of his mind. At work, he sat in front of his two computer monitors, his mind buried in code until, jolted by his knee, a pencil rolled across his desk, heading for the floor. He caught it. And the smoothness of the pencil between his fingers made him remember the sharp heel of the woman’s black shoes, the curve of her foot and the line of her calf.

“Diallo, it’s after seven.” He flinched when his boss rapped loudly on his door before pushing it open. He squinted at Lex, square hipster glasses magnifying his gray eyes. “Go home!” They were finally in the homestretch of the project. He could afford to be generous with free time. “Work on it there.” Or not. Then he was gone, leaving Lex alone with the pencil still clutched in his hand and his mind still full of her.

This celibacy thing was going just great.

After giving his body enough time to calm down, he packed up his work laptop and left the office for the short drive to his house. For the first time in weeks, he was getting home before ten with the project almost finished and his boss well on the way to acting human again. Which made Lex happy. If anyone had asked him ten years ago if he would have felt fulfilled working for a small tech firm in midtown Miami, living in a modest house his parents and most of his siblings could afford with pocket change, he would’ve said they were crazy. But his contentment came in small packages these days.

When he opened the door, the music he’d programmed to turn on as soon as he walked into the house started playing from the speakers installed in every room. Earth, Wind & Fire’s “Boogie Wonderland.” At the kitchen counter, he sorted through his mail. Bills. An invitation to a wedding. An envelope with no return address. He frowned and turned it over. The envelope was small and square, just large enough to fit a thank-you note. He slit it open and turned it upside down. A Monopoly card fell to the countertop.

The only thing that surprised him was his lack of surprise.

So she had noticed him at the gallery. The card sat on the speckled-gray granite, innocuous-looking but very far from that. It was an old-fashioned “Get Out of Jail Free” card, orange and rectangular. It looked brand-new. Without examining it too closely, he saw that an address was scribbled on the bottom of the card, along with a date and time. Lex closed his eyes and released a slow breath. When he opened them again, he wasn’t seeing his own kitchen; instead, he saw the red velvet couches and wide stage of the Kingston strip club where he had hidden from himself for nearly two years, dancing and showing his body off to women who had the money and the time to look.

That time was ten years behind him, but the card brought it back as if it was yesterday.

The date on the card was two days away. A Saturday. He didn’t waste his time wondering what she wanted. He left the card on the counter and finished sorting his mail. Saturday would come soon enough.

* * *

And it did. When the time came, he dressed like it was any other weekend, in jeans and a T-shirt, pushed his feet in leather sandals and left for the address on the card. It was a small Jamaican restaurant he’d never heard of hidden among the boring beige buildings in Coral Gables. Its outside seating was only two tables on the narrow sidewalk, but that was where he found her.

She sat in a bistro chair facing the road, a too-slender figure in a bloodred suit. The hem of her skirt sliding up above her knees, legs crossed, a black high heel slowly tapping to the music coming from inside the restaurant. She was still as beautiful as he remembered, a brown Morticia Addams, although her hair was short now, styled in a chin-length precision cut. When she saw him, she stood up.

“Alexander.”

“Madame M.” He felt a little foolish calling her that, but he’d never learned her real name. Not in the two years she had regularly dropped by the club to check on its progress.

A corner of her mouth curled up. “It’s good to see you.” She put down the glass of sparkling water she was drinking and reached out to him. Lex clasped her hands in his, a gentle version of a handshake.

“I wish I could say the same,” he said.

Her smile faded away. “I understand.” She released his hands and sat down. “Please, have a seat. Can I get you something to drink? My treat.” She waved the waitress over.

Lex reluctantly smiled. She treated him like the wannabe rent boy he had been ten years ago, offering to spend money on him like he didn’t have a perfectly functioning wallet of his own. But what the hell. When the waitress came, he ordered a Red Stripe.

“That’s all you want?” she asked.

“For now.” Lex thanked the waitress before she left to put in his order.

Then he settled back in his chair, ankles crossed, to wait for the reason Madame M had brought him here. The calm felt good, a direct contrast to the panic that had burned down his spine at the gallery. Back in Jamaica when they first met, he’d been a spoiled and ridiculous kid, high on his own self-importance and spoiling for a fight. He wasn’t that dumb kid anymore, but with Madame M in Miami and so close to his parents, who still didn’t know about the bad choices he’d made while in Jamaica, he felt antsy.

He drummed his fingers once across the table. “What can I do for you, Madame M?”

She leaned in with a warmish smile on her red lips. “For starters, please, call me Margot.”

Margot? The unexpected sweetness of her name almost made him smile. “Okay, Margot. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I wish this visit was purely for pleasure,” she said.

“I figured it wasn’t when you sent the Monopoly card.”

She had the grace to look a little embarrassed. “Sorry about that. Sometimes my sense of the dramatic gets the better of me.” Her red-tipped fingers curled around the glass of mineral water, but she didn’t drink. “By the way, your sister’s show was great. I picked up one of her pieces for my living room.”

The fact that she had a living room in Miami, or so he assumed, made Lex’s hand tingle for the feel of the bottle that hadn’t arrived yet. He didn’t necessarily want to drink it, but it would give him something to hold on to in his suddenly shifting world.

“I’ll let her know you enjoyed it,” he said.

Margot chuckled. “Will you really?”

Lex’s beer came and he took a long pull from the brown glass bottle. “So, do you plan on telling me anytime soon why you’re here?”

“It’s actually a little embarrassing—” Her eyebrow jerked up and her mouth quirked, self-deprecating in a way Lex had never seen before. “It’s about my sister. And...” She sighed, finally lifting her eyes to meet his. “Just hear me out before you flat out say no.”

“If that’s not an inviting buildup, I don’t know what is,” he said.

“I know, right? I think I used to be much better at this.”

“Okay.” Lex put his beer on the table. Maybe he wanted to be absolutely sober for this. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his hands in his lap. “I’m listening.”

“It’s my sister,” she said again. “She’s going through a rough time right now, and I want to help her.”

Lex nodded for her to continue, although she obviously didn’t need the prompt.

“Her fiancé left her at the altar a year ago.” Something moved across her face, an emotion—which was unusual in itself—that Lex couldn’t clearly interpret. “She hasn’t been the same since. Maybe not depressed, exactly, but close enough that it makes me worry.”

It sounded like something normal enough to Lex. If someone he trusted and loved enough to think of settling down with suddenly left him in the lurch with a lifetime of embarrassment and an outfit he couldn’t return, he’d hole up at home in his pajamas too.

“Since we were kids, I’ve been the one to take care of her. I want to take care of this for her too.” Her gaze on him sharpened and, if he had been ten years younger, Lex would have quickly excused himself and run like hell. But he sat and waited for what would come out of her mouth next. “This is where you come in,” she said.

Either he was getting braver in his older age or stupid. “I don’t see any room for myself in this equation,” he said carefully. “If you’re that worried, get her to see a shrink.”

“She’s already doing all that, but it’s not working. What I want you to do is distract her from her depression.”

Lex raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think it works like that.”

“It can,” Margot insisted with a certainty that would’ve been admirable if she wasn’t talking about manipulating her sister. “Noelle is depressed right now, not clinically but just having a moment in her life. A distraction like you will be good for her.”

Lex didn’t bother to ask what she meant by a distraction like you. “You think asking one of your ex-strippers to sleep with her will solve her problem?” He ignored the flash of anger in Margot’s eyes and pushed on. “I don’t mean to be the bearer of bad news, Margot, but this isn’t going to go the way you think.”

“No, no, no. You are not going to sleep with her.” Margot shook her head so hard that the ends of her hair slapped her mouth. “I never allowed that in the club and I’m certainly not going to ask you to do that now.”

“You want me to seduce her out of her depression but not have sex with her? Sounds like you want her to be pissed off and more depressed when this whole thing is over.” Just like he would be.

“Noelle has never been a sexual person—wow, I don’t even know why I’m telling you this—” Instead of covering her face as it looked like she was going to do, Margot primly clasped her hands on top of the table. “I don’t think you teasing without delivering will be a problem.”

Her justification for wanting to do this for her sister looked pretty thin. Lex understood about wanting to take care of the people you love, but this...this didn’t seem to be the way to go at all.

“Margot, don’t think I’m not grateful for what you did for me back in Jamaica, but even you have to see this is a little crazy. Making me into a neutered stud for your sister just because she has a little case of the blues doesn’t make sense here. I don’t think you’ll be doing her any favors. Let her find her own way out of this. I’m sure your sister is more capable than you’re giving her credit for.” Especially if she’s your sister, Lex silently added.

“I have to do this for her, Alexander. I have to.” The emotionless mask she always wore bent at the edges and he could see hints of her desperation, the love she had for her sister and the care she wanted to take of her. “You’re just what she needs right now. And I trust you to fulfill those needs without overstepping your boundaries.” She raised a meaningful eyebrow, reminding him again that he wasn’t allowed to go too far with her sister.

Since he wasn’t going to agree to any of her madness, it didn’t seem necessary to bring up his current celibacy.

“Margot, even though I hate to say no to you, I have to step back from this. What you’re planning doesn’t feel right, and it sure as hell doesn’t sound necessary.”

“Consider it a little longer, Alexander. I’m not asking you for a kidney here.”

“That would be easier,” he said.

Margot palmed her water again, looked at Lex as if she was seeing him for the first time and then glanced away to the pedestrian traffic parading past.

“You’ve changed,” she said.

“Of course. I’m sure you have too. After all, it’s been ten years.” He was twenty-eight now. She had to be at least forty.

Her eyes ran a slow course over him, from the top of his head, his hair cut close with tight waves, over his America Eagle jeans, to the simple leather sandals on his feet. “And it’s not just the clothes you wear. No latest-designer gear, no pierced nose.”

Lex grinned, a quick flash of teeth. “The piercings have moved to more inconspicuous locations.” Her eyebrow arched playfully at that. “But I like to think I’ve cultivated some more mature tastes in the last few years. For no other reason than to save money. Keeping up with the Kardashians is expensive.” He quirked the corner of his mouth.

“You’ve definitely changed. I didn’t exactly expect the same arrogant boy from the club, but...”

“But you did.”

“Yes, or at least, I expected to see some remnants of him.” Her eyes dipped to the T-shirt draped across his chest, which was no longer swollen with muscle like it had been the last time she saw him. He’d cut down on that too. Less being more and all that.

He said as much.

“Very droll.”

“I’m just not as worried about things as I used to be.” Then he had to laugh at himself, considering how worked up he’d been when he saw her at the gallery. “Mostly, anyway.”

She nodded, finally taking a sip of water that had to be room temperature now. “Well, I hope the man you’ve become will consider my plea. It’s a favor that I’m asking, not a trade, not a bribe. This is just something you’re uniquely qualified to do. You’re the only man I trust to do what I ask without taking advantage of my sister.”

Lex hummed to let her know he was listening, but he had already made his decision. She wasn’t blackmailing him, so he could safely say no. Maybe after he refused her for the last time, Margot would get her sister some real help.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I can ask.”

Ask all you want, he thought. I’ll still say no. “Now that that’s out of the way, what have you been up to?”

“The same. A little bit of this and that.”

He almost laughed again. In Jamaica, he hadn’t known much about Margot. Not even her name. She came to the club four to six times a year, trusting the running of its operations to a pair of streetwise twins who made sure nothing illegal happened at the place. “So things haven’t changed for you that much, then,” Lex said.

“Well.” She drew out the word, obviously reluctant to share any information with him, despite just asking him to seduce her sister. “I sold the club and invested in some less controversial properties.”

From conversations he and Margot had toward the end of Lex’s time in Jamaica, he knew she’d inherited the club from her parents, who were long dead. She had transformed the slightly sleazy, uptown girly bar into an exclusive, membership strip club that catered to both men and women and had a dedicated ladies’ night when men were not allowed. Women paid for the privilege of ogling hard and oiled masculine bodies without men sitting among them. During the rest of the week, the club hosted mostly rich and powerful men in the audience while gorgeous girls of every shade danced on stage or made themselves available for lap dances.

“So you’re doing well for yourself here in Miami, then?” Lex asked. Margot’s designer suit and thousand-dollar stilettos said as much, but she wouldn’t be the first person to floss in haute couture when they were damn near homeless.

“I get by,” she murmured.

She was probably a millionaire several times over. Lex smiled and pushed away his drink. Time to do a little research, then. “I’m glad you’re satisfied,” he said, feeling far from that state himself. But that would change soon.

His phone vibrated in his front pocket. “Excuse me,” he said as he reached for it.

His twin’s big eyes flashed at him from the screen. He answered the phone, turning slightly away from Margot. “Hey.”

“What are you doing?” Adisa asked the question as if she knew he wasn’t doing anything special.

“Nothing much. What’s up?”

“You’re not getting ready for family dinner tonight?”

“What’s to get ready for? I’m dressed and showered. My car is working so I’ll be able to drive there.”

“You’re such an idiot. You do know it’s their anniversary, right?”

“I think you’re the one being an idiot. I know when their anniversary is and it’s not today.”

“It’s the anniversary of you know...” Her voice trailed off dramatically in typical Adisa fashion.

The you know was the unfortunate incident of their parents’ separation when their mother ran off to some island with another man. Their parents didn’t think they knew, but all the siblings were very aware of what had happened, although not why, and had created an unofficial celebration of their parents’ reunion by dropping by their house, even when it wasn’t a family dinner, and bringing presents.

With the meeting with Margot on his mind, Lex had actually forgotten. “Okay, fine.”

“So, what are you bringing?” Adisa pressed, sounding impatient.

Lex barely stopped himself from saying something mean. “Right now, nothing.”

“Let’s go shopping and then we can go to the house after. You can even buy me a drink.”

“Why am I buying you a drink when you make at least four times my salary?”

“Because you’re older and that’s what older brothers do.”

He was about to remind her that older by twelve minutes didn’t really count, but then he remembered where he was. Lex sighed heavily into the phone. “I’ll be at your place in fifteen.”

“Perfection. I’ll be waiting for you on the porch with fresh coffee.” They were both caffeine addicts and drank coffee any time of the day or night, especially when they were together.

“French vanilla, please,” Lex said.

“Like I don’t know who I’m talking to.” She hung up.

Lex slid the phone back into his pocket.

“You have to go?” Margot looked amused. She’d never seen him interact with any of his siblings before. Their entire relationship had been in the context of Lex’s isolation from his twin and the rest of his immediate family.

“I do have to go.” Lex took one last sip of his lukewarm beer. “But I’ll be in touch.”

She reached across the table to squeeze his hand, her eyes rising to meet his. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Even if I say what you don’t want to hear?”

“I’m an optimist,” she said.

Lex got to his feet. “All right, Margot. We’ll talk soon.” Then he left the restaurant without any intention of ever seeing her again.

* * *

When he pulled up to Adisa’s front door, she was sitting on her front step reading her version of a trashy novel. On the cover was a pretty illustration of nuclear fission. Like him, she was a nerd from way back.

“Lexie!” She jumped up from the step, slipped her book under her arm and grabbed the two cups of coffee at her side, one with her lipstick stain on its rim. “I swear, you are the most punctual black man in the universe. What did you do, roll out of bed and push her out the door at the same time?”

He unlocked and opened the car door to let her in. “I didn’t push anybody anywhere.”

“Right. You were with a woman. I know it.” She passed him his coffee and climbed into the car butt-first, bringing the smell of vanilla-flavored coffee and her bergamot body lotion, a Diallo Corporation blend, with her. She wore her natural hair pulled back from her face and circled with a bright blue scarf. Jeans, a cropped white T-shirt and a gold body chain that flashed at the neckline of her shirt and across her flat belly completed her latest casual look.

“There was a woman, yeah.” He could never hide anything from Adisa, and he never wanted to. “But not that kind.”

“A butterface?” She plopped her coffee in the appropriate cup holder and slammed the door shut. “Understandable. You’re a pretty devil, but sometimes you gotta take whatever is available.”

“Don’t be crass.”

She tipped her head back in mock shock and then burst out laughing. “Don’t take this all new Alexander to boring levels, brother dear. Remember I knew you back when.”

Lex started the car just after she belted herself in, gunning the engine of the Charger and taking off so fast that she slammed back into her seat.

Adisa grabbed the door handle. “You asshole!” But she was laughing. “Wait until I tell Mom...”

Chapter 4

Working on Saturdays is for suckers, Noelle thought. Which made her the biggest sucker of all since this was the third Saturday in a row she was in the office. She worked the extra hours for no reason other than she wanted to finish the work on a pending case that her boss needed ASAP.

“Fuck my life,” she muttered as she stepped outside the law firm’s five-story building into the sunshine and eighty-degree heat.

It was a gorgeous fall day with just the right amount of crispness in the late morning to make her long for a walk to her favorite Cuban bakery for a pastelito and then a stroll back home to savor that hint of cool weather that Miami got blessed with once in a blue moon. But instead of doing that, she’d been at work. Researching, collating that research and sending it off to her boss in a format he could understand.

Noelle shrugged out of her sweater and draped it over her arm, slid on her sunglasses and walked toward her car. A few feet away from her little red Honda Civic, she stopped mentally complaining for long enough to realize there was somebody leaning on her car.

“Hey, there.” Margot waved her phone at her. “I was just about to text you.”

“How did you know that I was here?”

“You told me you were catching up on some work, remember?”

Noelle searched her memory but couldn’t find such a conversation. But she shrugged. “Okay. What’s going on?”

“I’m taking you out to lunch.”

Noelle looked at her watch and saw it was just past eleven o’clock. She’d been in the office since eight.

“Come on. I’m parked over there.”

Margot gestured toward her own car, a black four-door Mercedes parked in the shade.

Noelle was never one to turn down a free meal. “Okay. Let me just switch out these heels for my flip-flops.” She’d gotten dressed for the office, just in case someone else happened to come in. The professional suit and high heels were comfortable in the office, but now that she was off and on her own time, she felt like putting on sweats and sneakers.

“No, you should keep on your shoes,” Margot said. “Let’s go.”

Oh. That meant they were going someplace fancy. With small portions. Lord help her.

“All right.” Noelle suppressed a sigh, hitched her purse more securely on her shoulder and walked with her sister to her car. The Mercedes still smelled new after nearly a year. The interior was as clean and organized as if Margot had just driven it off the lot. Noelle settled in beside her sister and let Margot sweep her away to parts unknown.

Parts unknown turned out to be a restaurant in Key Biscayne. Four stars, without listed prices and with a sommelier on staff, according to the menu. Noelle secured her bag under the table with a purse hook and wriggled herself to comfort in the plush chair. Leather and wood cupped her back like the hands of a lover, tucking her sweetly up to the table.

“This is a nice place,” she felt obliged to say.

She loved her sister and had known her all her life, so she sensed Margot was up to something. Noelle waited for it, ordering an appetizer and glass of pomegranate juice in the meantime. Margot looked like she was coming from a meeting, wearing one of her obvious power suits with a pair of those red-bottomed shoes she loved so much. She appeared commanding and cold; a look she deliberately cultivated. Sometimes Noelle missed the sister she’d known before their parents left their lives. The sister who played made-up games with her and loved to push her in shopping carts through store parking lots until they were both giggling from the rush.

Noelle sipped her juice and made small talk with Margot, sneaking peeks at her watch and waiting.

Then finally Margot said, “This place is nice, right?”

Noelle let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Yeah,” she said. “This is good.” She raised her glass of bright red juice, served in a wineglass with a lemon peel curled on the edge and a sprinkling of pomegranate seeds at the bottom.

The waiter came then, properly dressed in his dark apron, and presented their appetizers on tiny plates. He was gone so fast it was as if he disappeared into thin air. This was the kind of service Margot liked. Efficient and just about invisible. Noelle picked up her fork and prepared to demolish the prettily presented crab cakes, determined to at least get Margot’s money’s worth before her sister ruined her appetite.

“This is a nice place,” Margot said again, picking through the sparse leaves of her starter salad with a fork that looked like real silver. “It’s nice to be able to afford a place like this, don’t you think so?” She ate her salad without dressing and tipped her head to look at Noelle with what Margot seemed to think was her most inscrutable expression.

But Noelle had known Margot long enough to read nearly everything about her. Right now, the slight upward curve of her mouth, the minute quiver of her eyelashes said she was feeling pleased with herself about something. In other people’s company, she laughed often, sometimes even reached out to touch in a show of closeness and connection. When she was being herself, though, she was contained. Barely there smiles instead of laughs, hands still and clasped close to her body. Their parents’ abandonment and then death had changed them both.

“Yes,” Noelle agreed. “It’s nice you can afford this place and treat me to lunch.” Although she knew that wasn’t the point, Noelle added, “Thanks for inviting me out today.”

“You know it’s nothing. Anytime I can take my little sister out is a good day.” Margot twirled her fork in a pile of spinach leaves like it was spaghetti.

“I could take you out to a place like this if that’s what you really want,” Noelle said. “But you’d have to wait until payday.”

“That’s just my point.” Margot’s eyes snapped with triumph, a subtle shimmering under her thick fan of lashes, the only thing about her that was lush. “Wouldn’t you love to take yourself out for meals like this whenever you want? Without worrying about a paycheck or making payments toward it on your credit card?”

Noelle shrugged, forked off another piece of crab cake in her mouth—and it practically melted there, buttery and faintly sweet—before she said anything. She slowly chewed, savoring the crab meat on her tongue. “I have the kind of life that I want, Margot. You know that. Eating at expensive places and wearing shoes that cost as much as one month’s rent is not my thing. It’s yours.”

Noelle put another piece of the tiny crab cake in her mouth, determined to enjoy every last bite while she could.

“If you ever used any of the money in your inheritance account, you’d want that too.”

Noelle rolled her eyes. Some random nightclub in Jamaica their parents had owned started to actually turn a profit a few years after Margot took over. Her sister made sure Noelle’s share of the profits got deposited into an account they both referred to as the inheritance account. Noelle knew the money was there and knew it was a lot of money, but she rarely looked at it, preferring to leave it there for the rainy day that life with her parents taught her was always coming.

“If is a big word, Margot. Right now, I have everything I need and can buy everything I want.” That wasn’t quite true. She couldn’t afford to take the trip to the Great Barrier Reef she wanted, but that was only a matter of saving her vacation time.

“But what if you just went to law school and became an entertainment lawyer? Wouldn’t that be better than just being a paralegal at the firm? You could work directly with ball players and entertainers as their legal counsel.”

It was an old conversation but framed in a different way. Margot had money. Noelle didn’t know exactly how much and she didn’t care. Just like she didn’t care about the details of the inheritance account, it was simply enough to know Margot had financial security. Her sister had given up her own childhood to make Noelle comfortable when their parents disappeared for the last time. Noelle was nine. Margot was nineteen. When the disappearance ended with Hugo and Michelle Palmer being found dead on some abandoned farm in the middle of Iowa, the girls breathed a sigh of relief. Not because they were rid of their parents, but because they finally knew where they stood. Alone.

Margot dropped out of college and took over running the Jamaican nightclub, taking care of Noelle every day except for the half a dozen times each year she left the country to check on the club and other businesses she had going. Other than during those disappearances, when Margot left Noelle with a trusted friend of their mother, Margot was there to make her meals, help with homework and provide every material thing they needed. Margot had sacrificed to get the money and financial freedom she had now. But that was not what Noelle wanted for herself. Her small happiness was more important to her than any pair of thousand-dollar shoes or meals that cost a hundred dollars a plate.

The waiter came back to take away empty dishes and bring their entrees, but Noelle didn’t pick up her fork.

“I already told you, Margot, I like my life the way it is. When I’m not at the office, I don’t have to worry about anything there unless I feel like it. Most of the lawyers work through lunch and miss dinner with their families and spend entire weekends at the office instead of being with the people they love. I don’t want that.”

“Even if I pay for the LSATs and law school for you?”

That was a new one. Margot had offered to pay for the LSATs before but never for law school. Noelle took her napkin out of her lap and lay it across the table. Carefully, she rested her hands on either side of her plate and drew a calming breath.

“I don’t want to sound ungrateful about this, Margot. But if you don’t stop harping on this law school thing, I swear to God I’m going to walk out of here and take the bus back to my car.”

Margot sighed and sat back in her chair. “Calm down. I’m not trying to upset you. I’m just—”

“I know what you’re just trying to do, Margot. But we’re not our parents. I’m not completely broke and reliant on a man who takes chances with my life. You’re not a drug-addicted gambler who can’t tell a trap from a score.” She swallowed the sudden tears that threatened the back of her throat. “And we’re not kids anymore and I can make my own decisions about the kind of life that I want.” Noelle took another breath and truly tried to calm herself down. Their parents had done a number on them both, especially Margot, who thought she had to fix everything in Noelle’s life. Hell, she’d wanted to fix her anger at Eric for jilting her by hiring someone to break his legs.

For a moment, it looked like Margot’s carefully constructed facade was going to crack, like she was finally listening to what Noelle was saying and actually understood. But then she picked up her fork and knife as if Noelle hadn’t spoken.

“Fine,” she said. “We’ll let this conversation go for now. Just know that I love you.” Margot swallowed loudly. “And I only want the best for you.”

“I know.” Noelle hooked her bottom lip between her teeth. That was what made it so hard for her to be truly angry at her sister. She did it all out of love and fear that they would both slide to where their parents had been. No matter what Noelle said or did, she couldn’t convince Margot they were okay. She blew out a breath and reached for her fork.

“It’s okay, Mags. Just eat your food before it gets cold.”

Margot gave her a smile that was only a painful stretch of teeth. But it was better than nothing. Noelle drank some of her fruit juice and tried to settle the knots in her stomach. It didn’t quite work, but it was a start.

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