The man to give her every pleasure

All the exquisite things that money can buy are at world-famous restaurateur Nicco Morretti’s fingertips. But he knows he’s met his match when he encounters a feisty young woman whose alluring smile turns his world upside down. Jariah Brooks is unlike any woman who’s ever tempted him before. She’s a spirited single mother and his new employee, but he’s craving to get to know her on a personal level—despite the risks.

Love has been low on Jariah’s priority list ever since the birth of her beloved daughter, though she’s not immune to Nicco’s radiant charm…. And once the Italian heartthrob decides to sweep her off her feet, will the troubles stacked against them keep them apart forever?

“Would you like that?” he asked, leaning into her, his smoldering gaze probing and intense. “Would you like to feel my hands all over your body?”

You have no idea.

Electricity crackled between them, caused the air in the room to swelter. Nicco seized Jariah around the waist and drew her right up to his chest. Then the unthinkable happened—he kissed her. He brushed his lips against her mouth, gently at first, but the kiss quickly evolved into a passionate, desperate plea. Nicco kissed her with urgency, with a passionate, ferocious heat.

They’d crossed the line, jumped headfirst over it, and now there was no turning back.

Burying her hands in his hair, Jariah grabbed a fistful of curls and stirred her fingers around his dark, lush locks. Playing in his hair increased her desire, her sexual hunger. Finally, after weeks of stolen glances and lascivious smiles she knew just how delicious his mouth tasted. And it was better than she’d imagined. Beyond her wildest dreams. His lips were flavored with wine, carried a hint of spice, and the intoxicating blend made her delirious with need.

For a split second, Jariah considered fleeing the private tasting room, but she was helpless to resist his kiss, and his sweet, sensuous caress.

PAMELA YAYE

has a bachelor’s degree in Christian education. Her love for African-American fiction prompted her to pursue a career in writing romance. When she’s not working on her latest novel, this busy wife, mother and teacher is watching basketball, cooking or planning her next vacation. Pamela lives in Alberta, Canada, with her gorgeous husband and adorable, but mischievous, son and daughter.

Seduced

by the CEO

Pamela Yaye

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Dear Reader,

I’m going to let you in on a little secret: I like bad boys a lot. I love their swag, their confidence, how they own every room they enter and even their wild, adventurous side. That’s why I had a blast writing Nicco Morretti’s story. The celebrated restaurateur is one of the most captivating men you’ll ever meet, and the moment I put my pen to the paper his story consumed me. The CEO with the model good looks has it all: smarts, charisma and sizzling sex appeal, but a chance meeting with single mom Jariah Brooks forces Nicco to rethink his bad-boy ways.

Jariah doesn’t believe in mixing business with pleasure, and indulging in a tawdry office romance with her bad-boy boss would be career suicide. Besides, the Italian heartthrob is all wrong for her. He’s arrogant and flashy, everything she doesn’t want in a man, but after a magical first kiss, she realizes there’s more to Nicco than meets the eye. They’re destined to be together, and although the odds—and his mother—are against them, Nicco is determined to make Jariah his one and only.

Seduced by the Heir, featuring Nicco’s big brother, Rafael Morretti, hits shelves soon.

I would LOVE to hear from you, so drop me a line at pamelayaye@aol.com, find me on Facebook or visit my website, www.pamelayaye.com. Thanks for the support. Happy reading, and be blessed.

With love,

Pamela Yaye

This book is dedicated to single mothers everywhere.

I hope you find a sexy, romantic man like Nicco Morretti who sweeps you off your feet and cherishes you every day of your life.

I wrote this one for you moms, so enjoy!!!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Dear Reader

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Copyright

Chapter 1

Famed restaurateur, Nicco Morretti, watched celebrity party planner Claudia Jefferies-Medina sail through the doors of Javalicious and noted that as usual, she was right on time. Smiling broadly, he stood and pulled out a chair for her at their table. Celebrating the grand reopening of his restaurant lounge, Dolce Vita, last night left Nicco feeling sluggish. But he quickly shook off his fatigue and smiled. “Good morning, Claudia.”

“It’s great to see you again.” Kissing him on both cheeks, Claudia greeted him as if they’d known each other all of their lives rather than just a month.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet me on such short notice. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Claudia said as she sat down, took off her white blazer and draped it behind her chair. “I was already in town on business, so squeezing you in this morning was a cinch.”

“I ordered you a cappuccino when the waiter came by earlier. I hope that’s okay.”

“You remembered what kind of coffee I like,” she said, touching a hand to her chest. “Thank you, Nicco. That was very thoughtful of you.”

The waiter arrived, tray in hand, and placed two steaming mugs on the round wooden table. “Would you like to order something from the breakfast menu?”

“Nothing for me,” Nicco said, reaching for his coffee mug. “I’m good.”

While Claudia chatted with the waiter about the morning specials, Nicco studied the thin, long-haired women seated beside the front window. They grinned lasciviously, and he did, too, making a mental note to introduce himself to the blond babes after his meeting with Claudia ended. He glanced around the sparsely decorated café, surprised to see that it was filled to capacity. The quaint coffee shop attracted locals and tourists alike, and although it was only nine o’clock in the morning, a steady stream of casually dressed people shuffled through the open door. The scent of sea water mingled with the aromas wafting around the café, and the sound of squawking birds and laughter filled the air.

“Have you had a chance to review the notes I sent you last week?”

Nicco wanted to laugh, but didn’t. Claudia sat on the edge of her seat, her eyes bright and her excitement sky high. “I think my mom will get a kick out of the live band, and the vintage photo booth, but the rest of the report didn’t wow me.”

Claudia frowned as if confused by his words, but she didn’t speak.

“The party’s too small, too low-key. It needs to be grand, flashy and over-the-top.”

“Nicco, it doesn’t get much bigger than the grand ballroom at the Biltmore Hotel,” she said, sounding as animated as a high school cheerleader. “I’ve done several events at the Biltmore, and they outdo themselves every single time. If you’d like, I could email you some pictures of the pre-Grammy party I did back in January.”

Nicco shook his head. “That won’t be necessary.”

“Are you sure? I think if you saw some pictures you’d feel differently about us booking the Biltmore. It’s a gorgeous hotel rich in history and culture, and one of my personal favorites.”

“I’m just not feeling it, Claudia, so please keep searching for another venue.” His mind was made up. Nicco tasted his coffee, and leaned back comfortably in his chair. He loved the Biltmore Hotel, and thought the food and service was outstanding. But he didn’t want to have his parents’ anniversary party in a hotel where he’d had numerous sexual liaisons. But he couldn’t tell Claudia that, not without looking like a sleaze ball. He wanted the celebrity party planner to think he was a mature, upstanding guy. So, spilling the beans about his past escapades at the historic hotel was definitely out of the question. “My parents worked hard to give me and my brothers a great life in this country, and I want to throw them the most expensive, outrageous anniversary bash Miami has ever seen!”

Claudia was silent for a moment. “What about a mega yacht?”

“Will three hundred people fit comfortably inside?”

“When did the guest list balloon to three hundred people?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Once word got out that my parents were celebrating their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, our relatives in Venice and Florence insisted on making the trip to Miami.”

“The more the merrier, right?”

“That’s the Morretti way!”

“Trust me, it’s the Mexican way, too. A small family dinner at my in-laws’ place usually involves hundreds of people, and more food and alcohol than a Carnival Cruise ship!” Claudia laughed out loud, but quickly sobered and continued her spiel. “A mega yacht can comfortably hold up to five hundred people, and has everything you can think of—lavish staterooms, a lounge, a formal dining room, a pool and even a personal theater. You name it, the yacht’s got it.”

“Interesting,” Nicco said, stroking the length of his jaw. “That could work.”

“I’ll look into it and get back to you once I find out more information. Can I get your assistant’s new number?” she asked, her pen poised to write. “I rang her yesterday to confirm our meeting this morning, but her cell phone has been disconnected.”

“Gracie no longer works for Morretti Inc.”

“That’s too bad. I really liked Ms. O’Connor. Have you found a replacement yet?”

“No, but my HR director is in the process of interviewing suitable candidates as we speak.” Nicco raised his mug to his lips and took a swig of coffee. “Hopefully she’ll find someone soon, but in the meantime you can reach me by phone or email.”

“That works for me.”

“One last thing. I want the party to be a surprise, so I’d appreciate if you kept everything quiet.” Leaning forward in his chair, he glanced conspicuously around the café to ensure no one was listening in. “The only people who know about the anniversary bash are my brothers, Demetri and Rafael, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“I can do that!” She fervently nodded her head. “Covert is my middle name!”

Laughing, they clinked coffee mugs.

Claudia’s cell phone vibrated, and when she glanced at the screen, her face brightened. “I apologize for the interruption,” she said, swiping her cell phone off the table. “Do you mind if I take this call? It’s my husband, and I’m worried he’s still stuck at the Orlando airport.”

“Please, by all means, go ahead.”

Claudia pressed her cell phone to her ear. “Santiago, bebé, ¿estás bien?”

For the second time in minutes, Nicco swallowed a laugh. Claudia sounded more like a love-struck teenager, than an accomplished businesswoman who’d recently been featured in top magazines. With her cell phone at her ear, she swept through the café, speaking in a hushed tone. Nicco scoured the café for the blonds in the daisy dukes he’d spotted earlier, but couldn’t find them anywhere. And that sucked, because he needed a woman in his bed bad. Like yesterday. Sex was his favorite pastime, the only thing ever worth missing a round of golf with his brothers for. And Nicco couldn’t think of anything better than having a gorgeous woman—or two—between his black satin sheets.

Punching in his cell phone password, he fired off a quick text to his older brother, Rafael, and waited anxiously for his reply. For months, Nicco had been debating whether or not to buy Javalicious, and as he sat in his corner table watching the staff fly around the room like busy bees, he decided investing in the coffee shop would be a smart, solid business move. And if Rafael agreed, he’d be one step closer to owning the popular Ocean Drive café just steps away from Miami Beach.

“Wesley, I don’t need you to take care of me. I’m a strong, intelligent woman who can take care of herself. Got it?”

Frowning, Nicco shot a glance over his shoulder, curious to see who was responsible for the loud, angry outburst. Seated directly behind him, a woman with short black hair and dressed in pink workout gear spoke on her cell phone. Nicco couldn’t see her face, but there was no mistaking her frustration, or the contempt in her voice for the person on the line.

“Please, you wouldn’t know the truth if it walked up and slapped you!”

Nicco cracked up. But when he saw the puzzled expressions on the faces of the patrons seated nearby, he killed his laughter and pretended to read the menu card propped up against the napkin holder.

“Sorry about that.” Claudia took her seat and rested her cell phone on the table. “My husband was calling to give me an update on his schedule. He’ll be in Miami within the hour.”

“Then don’t let me keep you,” Nicco said. “We’re finished, so go meet your husband.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

Up on her feet, her eyes twinkling like diamonds, she collected her things and flashed a friendly wave. “Take care of yourself, Nicco. I’ll be in touch.”

The second Claudia rushed out the café doors, Nicco searched the room for the woman in the pink workout gear. He found her standing in line, typing furiously on her cell phone, wearing a cheeky grin. Nicco stood in the middle of the café, staring at her. Her facial features were perfect, and so was her taut derriere. Last night, at the grand reopening of Dolce Vita, he’d met scores of women, but they all looked the same—long, silky hair, coats of thick makeup, wearing tiny dresses that left nothing to the imagination. But the woman in front of him now with the killer curves and big brown eyes instantly seized his attention. She’s a stunner, nothing short of magnificent, the most striking woman on the face of the earth.

Nicco moved forward, toward her. Couldn’t help it. Couldn’t stop himself. His hands itched to touch her, to squeeze, to caress and stroke her delectable, hourglass shape. Her tank top showed off toned arms, her leggings fit her body like a second skin, and her neon-pink sneakers drew his gaze down the length of her long, sculptured legs.

God bless the man who invented spandex! The woman had a body that made him salivate. Her looks were jaw-dropping, clear off the Richter scale, and Nicco found it impossible to turn away from her. He more than liked what he saw—her dimpled cheeks, the beauty mark above her mouth and most importantly her fine, feminine figure. His thoughts were all over the place, jumping from one illicit image to the next. Battling the needs of his flesh, he stood transfixed, unable to move.

The woman glanced up from her cell phone and caught his eye. Nicco’s heart rate sped up, beating at a wild, fanatic pace. For a moment, all he could do was stare helplessly at the beauty standing across the room. That’s it. Breathing required every single drop of energy he had left.

Her glossy, pink lips slowly curled into a smile, one that hit him straight in the heart. And when his eyes zeroed in on her moist, lush mouth, Nicco imagined himself planting one on her. A long, sensuous kiss that would turn her on.

Nicco watched the woman pay her bill, and when she headed in his direction, he surfaced from his sexual haze. Clearing his throat, he racked his brain for the right pick-up line, one that would capture her attention and buy him a few precious minutes of her time.

“How was your workout?” Nicco winced when he heard the question slide past his lips.

How was your workout? mocked his inner voice. Surely you can do better than that. Quit staring at her cleavage, man, and get your head in the game!

Her feet slowed and a frown bruised her lips. “My workout?” she repeated, regarding him closely. “Were you in my Bootie Camp class this morning?”

Nicco chuckled. “No, unfortunately I missed it. Where do you teach?”

“Why? Are you looking to drop a few pounds?”

“Do I need to?” Raising an eyebrow, he cocked his head to the right. Nicco wanted her to get a good look at him, so he stood tall and squared his shoulders. He saw her eyelashes widen and flutter, and heard her quick intake of breath. She darted a glance down at his shoes and a sly grin claimed his mouth. That’s right, baby. I wear a size twelve shoe. How you like me now?

“Since you’re a fitness instructor, I’d love your expert opinion.” Nicco rested his hands on his waist and displayed a bold, in-your-face stance. “Am I in good shape or not?”

Rolling her eyes, an exasperated expression marring her features, she heaved her gym bag over her shoulder and stepped past him as if he hadn’t just asked her a question.

Nicco didn’t know what possessed him to touch her, but when his hands connected with her flesh he felt a rush, a charge so powerful his knees buckled. They stood in the middle of the café, staring at each other. His desire for her so strong, his mind went blank. “Please don’t go. We’re not finished talking.”

Leaning forward, he read the name printed on the top hand corner of her tank top. Jariah Brooks. Nicco tried it on for size, allowing the syllables to stroke the length of his tongue, before deciding that her name was as striking as her dark, creamy complexion. “I’d love to take you out sometime, Jariah. Can I get your phone number?”

“I’m busy.”

“Every night?”

“Look,” she snapped, “I’m having a really bad day, and I’m not in the mood to hear any of your slick lines, so go hit on someone else.”

“Let’s sit down and talk.”

“Let’s not and say we did.”

“Do you know who I am?”

Jariah sputtered a laugh. “No, should I?”

“I think so.” Bragging was usually beneath him, but to impress the saucy fitness instructor, he was willing to use every trick in the book. “I’m well-known around these parts. My picture is always in the newspapers and on TV.”

She stared at him for a moment, as if trying to place his face, then fervently nodded her head. “Oh, wow,” she gushed, pointing a finger at him. “I thought you looked familiar.”

A grin overwhelmed Nicco’s mouth. Finally. Now that Jariah recognized him—and knew that he was one of the most successful restaurateurs in the nation—they could skip the preamble and head straight to the penthouse suite at his favorite, luxury hotel. He had plans for Jariah, plans that involved whip cream, Cristal, and a box of Magnum condoms, and the sooner they got to his suite at the Hilton Bentley the better.

“You were on last night’s episode of Cheaters, weren’t you?”

Hanging his head, Nicco clutched his shirt, as if wounded by the dig, but deep down he was amused. Aroused actually. He loved their playful banter. Much like her stunning looks, Jariah’s cheeky wit was a turn-on. But what Nicco liked most about the mocha-brown was her mouth. Her lips were thick, moist and plump, and looked incredibly inviting.

“Sorry, but I’m not interested.”

“Not interested?” Nicco chuckled a laugh. “Can’t say I’ve ever heard that one before.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” she said in a sing-song voice.

“Are you married?”

“Why?” she quipped. “Are you looking for your one true love?”

Nicco choked on his tongue. Hell, no! he thought, sliding his hands into the back pocket of his blue Levi’s jeans. I’m only thirty-four and besides I’m far too smart to ever do something as stupid as tying the knot! Nicco caught himself, just as he felt a tidal wave of guilt. Not everyone who fell in love and got married was foolish. His kid brother, Demetri, had found love with news reporter Angela Kelly—and he’d never seen a happier, more loving couple. Since popping the question last month on live TV, Demetri and Angela had become the newest celebrity “it” couple, and every time Nicco talked to his brother he waxed poetic about his new fiancée and their upcoming wedding.

Happily ever after isn’t for everyone, and it certainly isn’t for me. Nicco didn’t do relationships, and rarely saw the same woman twice, but he was willing to make an exception for Jariah-Curves-Galore-Brooks. One night with the saucy beauty wouldn’t be enough. He’d need a week with her, shoot, maybe even two or three.

Nicco couldn’t think straight. It was hard for him to stay present in the moment. He felt unsteady on his feet, as if he’d been smacked upside the head by a Roger Clemons fastball. This had never happened to him before. Ever. No one had ever affected him like this. Over the years he’d hooked up with a wide assortment of red-carpet darlings, but Jariah Brooks was the first and only woman to ever take his breath away.

His heart roared like the engine of his Harley Davidson, and when Jariah moistened her lips with her tongue, Nicco strangled a groan. I don’t know how much more of this I can take, he thought, raking a hand through his short, curly hair.

“Mommy!”

Nicco felt someone bump the back of his legs and a cold liquid splash onto his sandals. A chubby, wide-eyed girl with pigtails jumped into Jariah’s arms and giggled with delight. Her hands swung wildly, and every time she moved her drink splashed onto him.

Stepping back, Nicco snatched a wad of napkins off the breakfast counter along the front window and dabbed at the front of his black V-neck T-shirt.

“Mommy, can we go to the beach? Please? Pretty please?” the girl whined, tugging on her mother’s tank top. “I promise to be a good listener.”

“Not today, Ava. You have a dentist appointment at ten forty-five.”

The girl stamped her foot. “But I don’t want to go to the stinky dentist. I want to go to the beach! You promised I could go swimming!”

Intrigued by the exchange, Nicco glanced up. The little girl was the splitting image of Jariah. Mother and daughter shared the same dark brown complexion, wide, expressive eyes, and delicate button nose. A tanned, stocky man joined them, and kissed Jariah on each cheek. He wore a lopsided smile, and was so smitten with the fitness instructor he had stars in his eyes.

Feeling dumb for hitting on her, Nicco mentally berated himself for publicly making a fool of himself. He watched the trio exit the café, and as Jariah strode past the front window, hand-in-hand with her daughter, their eyes met. She caught him staring at her—again—but this time Nicco didn’t flash his trademark grin. There was nothing to smile about. Jariah had a kid, and at least two men in her life. And since children and drama were a turn-off Nicco tore his gaze away from her pretty face and studied his diamond Montblanc wristwatch instead.

Nicco dumped his napkins in the garbage. He had to hurry or he’d be late. He had an eleven o’clock meeting with the head of his security team, Gerald Stanley, and was anxious to hear if the former navy SEAL had garnered any new information about the break-in at his downtown restaurant. The perpetrators had caused thousands of dollars’ worth of damage, but two months later the police still had no leads. He suspected deep in his gut that his ex-assistant, Gracie O’Connor, was involved, but he wasn’t ready to share his thoughts with anyone. He was going to handle it his way, and no one was going to stop him—not even his brothers.

How had things come to this? How had things gone so bad, so quickly? Nicco wondered, expelling a deep, troubled breath. A year ago, he’d been on top of the world, living the good life, but the day before his thirty-fourth birthday his whole world had fallen apart. Twelve months later, he was still picking up the pieces.

Slipping on his aviator sunglasses, he strode purposefully through the café doors. Outside, at the intersection of Ocean Drive and First Street, Nicco spotted Jariah and her daughter. The little girl was cute, every bit as beautiful as her mother, and Nicco couldn’t help thinking what a great-looking family they were.

Nicco shook his head, dismissed the unsolicited thought that rose in his mind. Jariah Brooks is a stunner, but I definitely dodged a bullet there. Kids weren’t his thing, but playing the field definitely was, and as soon as he finished his workday he was making a move on the full-figured brunette at his favorite spa. The masseuse wasn’t as witty as Jariah Brooks was, but she was the ready, willing, down-for-whatever-in-the-bedroom type, and tonight, that was all that mattered to Nicco Morretti.

Chapter 2

Jariah sat at the conference room table inside Morretti Inc. mentally preparing for her interview. Her heart was beating so loud and fast she feared she would collapse. As Jariah waited for the Human Resources Director to arrive, she straightened her dress and assessed her look. Jariah was excited about the account manager position, but worried her nerves would get the best of her and she’d trip all over her words.

Glancing around the conference room, she took in the tasteful paintings, the leafy plants positioned beside the window and the low-hanging lights. I have to nail this interview. I need this job and the salary even more. Jariah had been out of work for months, and pounding the pavement had yet to produce any results. Teaching aerobic classes at Premier Fitness was great fun, and she loved seeing her students’ progress each week, but the paycheck just wasn’t cutting it. Her bills were piling up, and Jariah feared if she didn’t land a full-time position soon she’d have to dip into her emergency fund.

And what will I do once that runs out? Jariah told herself not to imagine the worst possible scenario—the one with her losing her home and crawling back to her ex-fiancé. It didn’t matter what Wesley said. She would make it without him, and when she did, she’d finally be able to give her daughter, Ava, the life she’d always dreamed of. And she didn’t need Wesley or anyone else to help make it happen.

Turning her face toward the window, she closed her eyes and allowed the sunshine raining down from the morning sky to calm her fears. Jariah felt herself relax, felt the tension radiating through her cold, chilled body recede. Hearing her cell phone vibrate from inside her purse, Jariah slid a hand into the side pocket and took out her BlackBerry. Jariah had three new text messages from Wesley, and each one was more annoying than the last. He was furious that she had refused to get back together with him. So he’d been blowing up her phone for weeks, his cruel taunts only proved how immature he was.

Switching off her cell phone, she dropped it inside her purse, and sat back comfortably in her leather wingback chair. Jariah was sick of Wesley’s superior, know-it-all attitude and she refused to take any of his calls.

Wesley Covington, the twenty-nine-year-old chief administrative deputy making waves from Orange County to Capitol Hill, was not only the father of her daughter, but an overgrown child himself. The Ivy League graduate had the power to ruin a perfectly good day, and as Jariah thought about the messages he’d sent her, she wondered for the umpteenth time what she’d ever seen in the privileged mama’s boy.

Why can’t I meet a nice guy? Jariah wondered, releasing a troubled sigh. Someone sweet, chivalrous and romantic, who was good with kids. Hoping the man upstairs was listening, she stared up at the ceiling pitifully, as if that would seal the deal. A little chemistry would be nice, too, she thought with a fervent nod of her head. Since calling it quits with Wesley eight months ago, Jariah had been on dozens of dates but none of the guys she met excited her.

A picture of a tall, gorgeous guy with intense eyes and curly hair sprang in her mind. As Jariah sat there, thinking about the hottie who’d approached her at Javalicious on Friday, she inwardly chastised herself for not giving him her phone number. Why? her inner voice questioned. He’s a player who’s probably bedded more women than Hugh Hefner!

Hearing a sharp knock on the door, she shot to her feet and adjusted her Donna Karen dress. The door opened, and Jariah stood there, dumbfounded. Her lips parted, but nothing came out. What the hell? What is he doing here? It was the guy from Javalicious. The one who’d hit on her, and probably every other woman in the popular café. On Friday, he’d looked handsome in his casual T-shirt and khaki pants, but today he looked like a Hugo Boss model fresh off the runway. Clean-cut, with thick eyebrows, and sideburns, his ebony-black hair a mass of short, tight curls, he carried himself like a man who was used to getting his way in the boardroom and in the bedroom. All arms and legs, he was the height of a basketball player, and had the strong, muscled physique to match.

Her eyes slid greedily down his chiseled body. His shoulders filled out every inch of his lightweight suit jacket, his sky-blue shirt showed off the powerful definition of his upper chest, and his tailored pants hung just so. The man knew how to rock a suit, and smelled as debonair as he looked. He was cool, suave and hot—just like she remembered. He wasn’t the kind of man a woman forgot, and as he crossed the room toward her, Jariah felt a rush of panic. Her palms grew slick with sweat, and if her knees shook any harder her legs would give way.

“We meet again,” the stranger said in a velvety smooth voice. “Jariah, right?”

Taken by his smile and his dreamy scent, all Jariah could do was nod her head. Is this really happening? she wondered. Am I actually standing face-to-face with the guy I blew off two days ago? He was too close, but Jariah didn’t move. Couldn’t, not when he was openly staring at her. The Italian hunk was the sexiest thing on two legs, but something about him still rubbed her the wrong way. Jariah didn’t know anything about the attractive stranger, but she could spot a player a mile away, and this guy was definitely that. His cocksure stance said it all: I’m handsome and charming and I can have any woman I want.

Not me Casanova, so back off!

“I thought that was you. I glanced into the conference room, and there you were.” He slid a hand casually into his pocket, stood there as if he had all the time in the world to shoot the breeze. “Shouldn’t you be at the gym teaching the morning Bootie Camp class?”

“Are you stalking me?”

His eyes gleamed with mischief. “No. Would you like me to?”

Jariah couldn’t think of a witty comeback to put him in his place, so she said nothing.

“I’m just kidding,” he said, holding his hands up in the air, as if he was surrendering to Miami’s finest. “I work here. What’s your story?”

“If you must know, I’m here for a job interview.”

“That’s really great news.”

Baffled by his statement and his enthusiasm, she said, “It is?”

“Absolutely. This place is filled with a bunch of boring, stuffy suits, and it’ll be a nice to have a woman like you around for a change.”

“A woman like me?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve got moxie, and I find your honesty refreshing.”

“You don’t know me.”

“Not yet,” he shot back. “But I’m working on it.”

He smelled of expensive cologne, and when he raked a hand through his hair, Jariah wondered what it would be like to play in his dark, thick curls.

“How’s your daughter? Did everything go okay at the dentist on Friday?”

Stunned by the question, Jariah eyed him closely, trying to recall their previous conversation. What is this guy up to? Is it possible that he is stalking me? He didn’t give off that creepy, peeping-tom vibe, but he made her nervous. His questions put her on edge, made her uncomfortable. Before she could put him in his place, the door opened and a skinny brunette wearing designer eyeglasses and a stylish gray pantsuit marched briskly inside.

Stopping abruptly, she said, “Good morning, Mr. Morretti. Is there a problem?”

Jariah didn’t hear the gasp that escaped her lips, but it must have shot out of her mouth in surround-sound because the brunette gave her a funny look.

Touching a hand to her scalding-hot cheeks, Jariah choked down the lump in the back of her throat. This young, ridiculously hot guy owns Morretti Incorporated? Hell, no. No way. It couldn’t be, she argued, refusing to believe it. He was the boss’s son. Had to be. Remembering their conversation on Friday made Jariah wince. I am so screwed. There’s no way I’m getting this job. Not after the way I spoke to him at the coffee shop.

“Please, Mrs. Reddick, call me Nicco.” His eyes were narrowed, as if he was pissed off, but his mouth held a teasing grin. “Save the formalities for Rafael and my father. I’m far more laid-back. Haven’t you figured that out by now?”

Jariah wanted to roll her eyes but didn’t. The HR director was wearing a wedding ring the size of a jaw breaker, and was likely in her mid-forties, but she giggled like a kid watching Finding Nemo.

“Mrs. Reddick, if it’s okay with you I’d like to sit in on this interview.”

No, it’s not okay! Jariah screamed inside in her head. She prayed the brunette would show Nicco Morretti the door, but when he flashed one of his wide, panty-wetting smiles at the HR director, she eagerly nodded her head.

“Of course, by all means.” Mrs. Reddick gestured to the conference room table with more flair than a model at the Miami Car Show. “Please, pull up a chair and join us.”

“Can I get you something to drink?” Nicco asked, sliding behind Jariah and holding out her chair. “Coffee? Tea? A glass of wine?”

Jariah felt the compulsion to laugh, but didn’t. Who drinks wine at nine-thirty in the morning? she wondered. I bet he does! Nicco was testing her, but Jariah refused to let the hot-shot businessman unnerve her. Guys like Nicco Morretti—rich, arrogant, womanizers—were a dime a dozen in Miami and hardly her type. It didn’t matter that he had dashing good looks, or more swagger than a championship winning bull fighter. He was just a man, and like her ex, not someone she could ever trust. Nicco Morretti was a charmer, a guy who got off on seducing women and no one could tell her otherwise. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”

Girl, you better lick those lips and hike up that skirt!

Jariah was appalled by the thought that entered her mind. Yes, Nicco Morretti was attractive, and flirting with him certainly wouldn’t hurt her cause, but Jariah wanted to the get the account manager’s job on her own merit. Not because she’d flashed some cleavage at the boss’s son. She wouldn’t do it. No way, no how.

All business, the HR Director sat down with a flourish and opened the manila file folder she’d put down on the round, mahogany table. “Welcome to Morretti Inc., Ms. Brooks. I’m Mrs. Reddick. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

To conceal the fact that she was shaking, Jariah crossed her legs, and clasped her hands around her knees. Taking a deep breath didn’t calm her nerves, and Jariah feared if she tried to speak nothing would come out.

“Tell us about yourself, Ms. Brooks. What would you like us to know about you?”

Releasing the breath she’d been holding, she sat up straighter in her chair. This was her time to shine, to prove that there was more to her than met the eye, and Jariah held nothing back. She told the HR director about her education, her past work experience, and the joy she found in volunteering with the Meals on Wheels program.

“What makes you stand out from your peers?” Mrs. Reddick asked.

“I’m dependable, trustworthy and responsible. I take great pride in my work, and I’m committed to being the best account manager I can be.”

The HR director continued. “What’s your worst character trait?”

That depends on who you ask. My parents think I’m irresponsible, my ex says I’m unreasonable, and his mother is convinced I got pregnant to trap her beloved son. The accusation stung, even after all these years, but Jariah didn’t have time to dwell on her troubled thoughts. “I can be stubborn at times, especially when I’m very passionate about a project, but I’ve never allowed my shortcomings to interfere with my ability to do my job.”

Mrs. Reddick folded her arms rigidly across her chest, and Jariah knew she’d said the wrong thing, but before she could revise her response, the HR director spoke.

“Why should we hire you, Ms. Brooks?”

“Because I’m a dedicated, hard-working professional who thrives under pressure.”

“Mrs. Reddick, if it’s all right with you I’d like to ask Ms. Brooks a few questions.”

Bewildered by Nicco Morretti’s request, Jariah regarded him coolly. This isn’t good, she thought as her heart rate sped up.

“Go ahead, Nicco.” Mrs. Reddick flapped her hands like a bald eagle taking flight. “She’s all yours.”

Leaning forward in his chair, his eyes zeroing in on hers, he was nothing like the sly, flirtatious guy who’d hit on her two days earlier. “Why do you want to work for Morretti Inc.?”

Because I’m an out-of-work single mom, and kids are expensive! Unsure of what to say, Jariah racked her mind for a suitable answer, one that would paint her in a favorable light. Over the past three weeks she’d been on so many interviews it was hard to keep the companies straight, and though she tried, Jariah couldn’t remember anything remarkable about Morretti Inc. But she couldn’t tell the boss’s son that, so she said the first thing that came to mind.

“This is not only a fine opportunity for personal growth and professional advancement, but Morretti Inc. is a place where I feel I can make a difference.” Hearing the nervous quiver in her voice, Jariah paused to take a deep breath. “As an account manager, well versed in finance, book keeping and stock and investment options, I see this position as a perfect fit for me. Because I have excellent time management skills, I’m able to accomplish a lot in a limited amount of time and I have always led by example.”

“Is your significant other supportive of your career ambitions?”

Jariah frowned, and noticed that Mrs. Reddick raised her eyebrows, too. What an odd question. Is that his way of asking me if I have a boyfriend? She expected Mrs. Reddick to come to her rescue, but when the HR director didn’t, Jariah had no choice but to respond. “I’m single,” she said brightly, though she wanted to kick Nicco in the shin for digging around in her personal life. “My daughter is my number one priority right now.”

“Do you have any qualms about working at a male-dominated company?”

“Absolutely not. To be honest, I get along better with men than I do with women.” The second the words left her mouth Jariah regretted them, but to her surprise, Nicco grinned. He looked amused.

“Do you have any questions for me before we conclude today’s interview?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact I do.” Jariah held his gaze. For some odd reason seeing the puzzled expression on his face bolstered her courage. “What makes Morretti Inc. different? What sets your company apart from the competition?”

Nicco gave her a long, searching look. “That’s a great question, Ms. Brooks.”

You impressed the boss’s son. You go girl!

“Morretti Inc. has been the leader in the shipping industry for over fifty years, and since expanding our services in the nineties we’re increased our profits by 16 percent. In addition to our shipping, moving and security divisions, we also own condominium properties, car dealerships and a wildly successful restaurant franchise. Have you heard of Dolce Vita?”

Yes, but it’s too expensive for my tastes. “Yes, of course. It’s a celebrity hotspot, and one of my favorite Italian restaurants in Miami.”

Jariah fidgeted with her fingers and shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Lying didn’t sit well with her. It troubled her conscience, made her feel like a fraud but she felt compelled to tell Nicco Morretti what he wanted to hear. The interview was going well, better than she’d expected, and she didn’t want to do anything to turn him off. “Can you tell me about your employee development program?”

Mrs. Reddick spoke up. “We have a mandatory, one-week training session for all new employees, monthly webinars and workshops and a tuition reimbursement program for all full-time employees enrolled in university classes.”

“That’s impressive,” Jariah said, meaning every word. “When will you make a decision about the account manager position?”

“By Wednesday.” Mrs. Reddick closed her file folder. “Do you have any other questions?”

Shaking her head, Jariah picked her purse up off the floor and stood to her feet. “Thank you for taking time out of your very busy schedule to meet with me this morning.”

“No, thank you for coming.” Nicco stood and gestured to the door. “I’ll walk you out.”

“That won’t be necessary. I remember the way.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.”

Stepping forward, Jariah took the hand Nicco offered, and gave it a firm shake. Ignoring the warmth of his touch, she strode through the conference room door with her shoulders squared and her head held high.

* * *

Staring through the glass window, Nicco watched Jariah walk down the hallway with the grace of a woman twice her age. Her sleeveless dress, which clung to each sinuous curve of her body, made Nicco wonder if she’d ever been a model. He imagined her naked, with nothing on but her red patent leather pumps, and all but exploded in his boxers.

Jariah Brooks is all wrong for you. His conscience pointed out. She has a kid, man trouble, and a serious attitude problem, remember? Nicco did, but that didn’t stop him from wanting her. Intelligent, assertive women turned him on, and he enjoyed Jariah’s strong personality and the way she stood up to him. She was definitely a looker, and he liked that she was single...and available.

“What do you think?”

Remembering that he wasn’t alone and that Mrs. Reddick was standing beside him, watching him like a hawk, he turned away from the window and shook off his thoughts. “I think Ms. Brooks would be a great addition to our accounting department, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t.”

“You don’t?” Nicco heard the surprise in his voice and coughed to clear his throat. After leaving Javalicious on Friday, Nicco had told himself to forget about Jariah, but the message had failed to reach his brain. All weekend, he’d thought of her and nothing else. Running into her at his office had been a stroke of good luck, and after sitting in on her interview, Nicco was even more intrigued by the single mom with the keen mind and stellar résumé. “I was impressed by her answers and the questions she asked.”

“Ms. Brooks is articulate, and obviously intelligent, but I don’t want to hire anyone who may cause trouble or disrupt the harmony within the accounting department—”

“And you think Ms. Brooks is trouble?”

Mrs. Reddick shoved her papers back into her manila file folder. “I can’t say for sure, but I’d rather not take the chance. And besides, she’s a single mother.”

“What does that have to do with her ability to do the job?”

“In my thirty years of experience in HR, I’ve found single moms to be unreliable, undependable, and often too distracted by personal issues to effectively do their job.”

“That sounds like discrimination, Mrs. Reddick.”

“It’s called selective hiring.”

Her words troubled him, but Nicco decided not to argue with Mrs. Reddick. The HR director was new to Morrretti Inc., but his father trusted her wholeheartedly, and he didn’t want to say anything to ruffle her feathers. “You’re the expert. Do what you think is best,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Have you hired a new executive assistant for me?”

“Unfortunately, none of the men I’ve interviewed yesterday were up to snuff.”

Stunned, Nicco stared wide-eyed at the HR director. Was Mrs. Reddick off her rocker? What would ever possess her to hire a dude to be his right hand? “Come again?”

“In light of what happened with Ms. O’Conner, your father thought it was best I hire a male assistant to work alongside you, and I agreed.”

“I don’t give a damn what my father thinks,” Nicco snapped, growing annoyed by her condescending tone. He knew what the HR director was implying, and he didn’t like it. “I would prefer working with a woman, so please don’t discriminate against female applicants.”

“I’ll keep your wishes in mind, but I have to do what’s right for the company...”

Nicco raked a hand through his hair. It wasn’t his fault his former assistant, Gracie O’Conner, had developed feelings for him and caused a scene at the company barbecue. Three days later Gracie quit, and when word had got back to company headquarters about the incident his father, Arturo, had reamed him out in English and Italian.

His thoughts slid back to the past. Nicco loved everything about women—their strength, their femininity, the way they smelled and looked and moved. But they were also the most cunning, calculating people on the face of the planet. One night, after too many glasses of Cristal, he’d slept with Gracie. The next morning he’d apologized and made it clear that they could never be more than friends, but like all of the other women in his past she’d foolishly thought she could change him. When that didn’t work, she threatened to sue him for sexual harassment. To keep her quiet, and their family name out of the tabloids, his father had quietly paid her off.

The muscles in his jaw tightened. Every time he thought about how Gracie had screwed him over, he burned inside. Why did women view him as their meal ticket?

He didn’t want to rock the boat or piss off Mrs. Reddick, but he wasn’t sold on having a male executive assistant. He needed someone strong and assertive who spoke her mind. Someone like... A light went off in his head. “I want Ms. Brooks.”

Mrs. Reddick gasped. “Excuse me?”

“I want Ms. Brooks to be my new executive assistant.”

“But she applied for the account manager job.”

“I know, but since you’re not hiring her for the position, I’d like her to work for me,” he said, keeping his tone casual, despite his growing excitement. “Not only does Ms. Brooks have marketing training, she also has extensive experience working with start-up companies, and I bet she has great ideas on how to trim costs without sacrificing value and quality.”

Mrs. Reddick pursed her thin lips. “I’ve been an HR director for more than three decades,” she reminded him. “My gut instinct is that Ms. Brooks isn’t the right fit for this company.”

Nicco dismissed her words with a shake of his head. For some unexplainable reason, he wanted to help the out-of-work single mom. Other women like Gracie enjoyed living off men, but Jariah was independent and charitable, and he admired her ambition. After reading her curriculum vitae, he felt that she’d be a great addition to the Morretti Inc. family. He didn’t care what Mrs. Reddick thought. He was hiring Jariah, and that was that. “With all due respect, Mrs. Reddick, I’m quite capable of hiring my own executive assistant.”

“Ms. Brooks is a university graduate, with years of experience working in finance,” she said matter-of-factly. “Being an EA is beneath her. She won’t take the position.”

“She will.” Nicco adjusted his tie and flashed a broad grin. “Because I’m going to make Ms. Brooks an offer she can’t refuse.”

Chapter 3

“Mom, can Dad come over for dinner?”

Absolutely not! Jariah thought, opening the fridge and taking out the Tupperware container filled with last night’s leftovers. The less time she spent with her ex the better, so inviting Wesley over to break bread after another stressful day of job interviews was definitely out of the question. “Not tonight, baby.”

“But I haven’t seen Daddy since my birthday party.”

Hearing the anguish in her daughter’s voice made her heart ache, but Jariah couldn’t tell Ava the real reason her father wasn’t coming around anymore. He was still trying to get back at her for breaking up with him, but the only person he was hurting was their daughter. “Your dad is busy at work, but he’s always thinking about you, Ava, even when you’re apart.”

Ava sat at the kitchen table, playing with her stuffed animals, and when she poked out her bottom lip she looked just like her father. “I miss Daddy so much,” she said. “He buys me ice cream and games and always tells me funny stories...”

Like most children, Ava adored her father and could go on for hours about how wonderful he was. Jariah wasn’t in the mood to talk about Wesley, but she let her baby girl talk, and resisted the urge to change the subject. Her ex was a decent father who spoiled their daughter silly, but he was a terrible boyfriend and a selfish lover. Considering how inept he was in the bedroom, it’s a miracle we ever got pregnant.

Jariah’s gaze drifted to the window above the sink. Birds chirped in the trees, girls played jump rope in the streets and the neighborhood watchdog, Mr. Regula, stood in his driveway, buffing his Cadillac to a shine. Aventura was a safe, caring community, filled with hardworking people, and Jariah enjoyed living in such a diverse, multi-cultural neighborhood.

“Mom, can we go to Chuck E. Cheese’s tomorrow?” Ava asked, glancing up from her toys.

Jariah popped the leftovers in the microwave and set the timer for two minutes. “You have day camp tomorrow, remember?”

“I hate summer camp. It’s boring and the kids are mean.”

“Still not getting along with the other girls, huh?”

Her lips twisted into a scowl. “Laquinta called me a boo-boo head and pulled my braids.”

“La who?”

When Ava giggled, her pigtails tumbled around her pretty, plump face.

“It doesn’t matter what anyone says. You’re beautiful.”

“Just like you, right, Mama?”

“That’s right, and don’t you forget it.” Jariah walked over to the table, cupped her daughter’s chin and kissed the tip of her nose. “Put your toys away. It’s time for dinner.”

“Are we having pizza? I hope so. I just love cheese pizza.”

“I’ll make you pizza this weekend, but tonight we’re having veggie casserole.”

“Again? But we had that yesterday.”

Overlooking her daughter’s disappointment, Jariah opened the stove and heaved the casserole dish onto the counter.

“When I’m at Dad’s house he lets me eat whatever I want,” Ava announced. Marching over to the pantry, she tugged open the door and rummaged around inside. “I don’t want leftovers. I want Froot Loops and chocolate chip cookies.”

“Ava, cut it out. You’re going to eat what I made for dinner and that’s final.”

“Why?” she demanded, her voice a shrill shout. “Why can’t I eat what I want?”

“Because eating junk food will give you a tummy ache, and I don’t want you to get sick.”

“You always say no. You never give me what I want.”

Feeling her temperature rise, Jariah cautioned herself to remain calm. Instead of scolding Ava for acting like a spoiled brat, she picked up the stuffed animals scattered on the table, and handed them to her daughter. “These need to go back to your room.”

“I hate it here,” Ava shouted. “I wish I lived with Daddy!”

Of course you do, Jariah thought sourly. Your dad gives you whatever you want, and there are no rules at his house. It’s one big party over there! Releasing a deep sigh, she fought back the tears of frustration that threatened to break free. Ava’s words hurt, made her question whether or not she was a good mother. Before self-pity could set in, Jariah shook off her thoughts and regarded her strong-willed daughter. “You can sit down at the table and eat dinner with me, or you can go to your room. It’s your choice.”

Ava stood there for a minute, her big, brown eyes narrowed as if weighing her options. Without a word, she took the toys out of Jariah’s hands and moped down the hallway toward the stairwell. Her head was down, her shoulders were bent, and she moved like someone racked with grief.

Sadness flooded Jariah’s heart. She felt a tightness in her chest that made it hard to breathe. It hurt to see her daughter like this, but what could she do? It wasn’t her fault Ava hadn’t seen her dad in a month, was it? These days, Wesley’s visits were short and sporadic and more often than not he didn’t show up at all. Should I take him back? Should I move in with him for Ava’s sake? Is that the answer to all of my problems?

Chasing away the thought, Jariah returned to the stove and resumed preparing dinner. Taking Wesley back would be a mistake. He didn’t love her—not the way she needed to be loved—and more importantly she didn’t love him. Years ago, when they’d started dating at Miami University she’d naively thought Wesley was “the one.” But after discovering she was pregnant, she’d seen a different side of him—a weak, spineless side that chose his parents repeatedly over her. And after years of playing second fiddle to his family, Jariah realized Wesley was never going to change, and broke things off for good. Contrary to what he thought, she deserved more, and didn’t need him or anyone else to take care of her.

Hearing her cell phone ring, Jariah searched the kitchen for her BlackBerry. Spotting it on the breakfast bar, she scooped it up and read the number on the display. Luckily, it wasn’t Wesley or his obnoxious mother. Jariah didn’t recognize the number on the screen, but as she put her cell phone to her ear, she hoped and prayed it was someone calling to offer her a job. “Hello, Jariah Brooks speaking.”

“Good evening, Jariah. This is Nicco Morretti. How are you?”

The sound of his deep, smooth voice tickled the tips of her ears.

“I’m great, thanks.” Jariah knew why Nicco Morretti was calling, and for the first time since losing her job last month, she smiled from ear to ear. Excitement surged through her veins, hard and fast. Jariah wanted to dance around the kitchen, but she maintained her composure.

“I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time.”

“No, not at all,” she rushed to say. “I’m not doing anything. Now’s a great time to talk.”

“I’d like to discuss a business proposition with you.”

Confused, Jariah scratched her head. A business proposition? Frowning, she stared down incredulously at the phone. Did I get the account manager position or not? she wondered, leaning against the granite countertop. “I’m sorry, Mr. Morretti, but I’m afraid I don’t understand. What is this pertaining to?”

“I’d rather not discuss it over the phone.”

Discuss what? I have no clue what you’re talking about!

“Let’s meet at Dolce Vita for drinks at eight o’clock.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes, is that a problem?”

“Mom, look, I washed my hands with soap!” Ava stood beside the pantry door, waving her hands frantically in the air, hopping up and down as if she was on a pogo stick. “Can I have some cookies now?”

To quiet her daughter, Jariah pressed a finger to her lips, and steered her over to the table. “Is it okay if I call you back in an hour? I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

“That’s no problem at all,” he said, his tone calm. “I’ll talk to you then.”

Jariah hung up and rested her phone on the kitchen counter. What was that all about? she wondered. What is Nicco Morretti up to? As Jariah fixed Ava a plate, she replayed her conversation with the cocky CEO in her head, trying to figure out if she’d missed something. But there was nothing to miss. Their conversation had been brief, and he’d been vague and mysterious throughout. The only way to find out what Nicco Morretti wanted was to meet him tonight at his restaurant, but first she had to find a babysitter.

Once Ava was eating dinner, Jariah slipped out of the kitchen and went into her bedroom. It was times like this that Jariah wished she could talk to her parents. She longed to hear her mother’s voice and her father’s booming laugh, but she knew they would never take her call. They had cut her out of their lives, and their bitter rejection still stung months later.

Ignoring the heaviness in her chest, Jariah flopped down on the bed, punched in her neighbor’s phone number and waited anxiously for the call to connect. Cousins, Sadie and Felicia Robinson were good old-fashioned country girls, and Jariah loved hanging out with them. And so did her daughter. The cousins fussed over her, snuck her junk food when they thought Jariah wasn’t looking, and gave Ava free reign of their town house.

“Hey, Sadie, how are you?” Jariah asked, greeting the thirty-five-year-old boutique owner with the fun-loving personality.

“I’m great. I was just about to make dinner. How is my sweet little honey pie doing?”

“Ava’s fine, giving me sass and attitude as usual.”

“Good for her!” Sadie cheered. “She needs to stand up for herself. You’re way too strict.”

“I have to be. Her dad is a total pushover,” Jariah explained, feeling compelled to defend herself. “Ava throws a fit and he caves like a house of cards!”

The women laughed.

“Is Felicia still at work?” Jariah asked.

“No, she has a date.”

“Another one? That’s the third one this week and it’s only Tuesday!”

“I know, tell me about it,” Sadie quipped, her voice losing its cheer. “And the guy who picked her up tonight was a total hottie. Was driving a sports car and everything.”

“You sound jealous.”

“Why would I be jealous? I have a date, too.”

“You do? With who?”

“The remote control!” Sadie giggled. “Dating in the City starts in fifteen minutes, and I can’t wait to see what happens between Nelson Hamilton and the chick from...”

Jariah checked the time on the digital alarm clock, saw that it was almost six o’clock, and knew she had to rush things along. “Sadie, I need a favor,” she began, clearing her throat. “Can you babysit Ava for me tonight? I know its short notice, but the CEO of Morretti Incorporated just called and asked me to meet him for drinks.”

“No problem, girl. I’ll be right over.”

“There’s no rush. I don’t need to leave for another hour.”

“I know,” she said, “but I can smell your cooking all the way over here, and I’m hungrier than a plus-sized model on a no-carb diet!”

* * *

Jariah glanced at her wristwatch, and then tossed a look over her shoulder for the third time since arriving at Dolce Vita. When she’d entered the ritzy restaurant lounge and informed the hostess that she was meeting Nicco Morretti, the freckled brunette had greeted her warmly and escorted her to a secluded table in front of the picture window.

To pass the time, Jariah logged on to the internet and resumed reading an article she’d found that afternoon about Morretti Inc. Thanks to the magazine, she knew tons of information about the company and it’s handsome CEO with the bold personality. Knowing the good, the bad and the ugly about Nicco Morretti made Jariah feel prepared and more confident about meeting him for drinks at his downtown restaurant.

A rich, heady aroma sweetened the air. A waitress sashayed through the lounge pushing a dessert cart, and Jariah hungrily licked her lips. A loud cheer went up from the table behind her, but she didn’t pay the group any mind.

Dolce Vita was large, boisterous and busy, but the candle-lit tables, Italian marble and sable-brown decor created an intimate vibe. The restaurant lounge was the perfect setting for a romantic date, or a surprise marriage proposal, and as Jariah sat there, bored out of her mind, she reflected on the pitiful state of her love life. Is Wesley right? Am I going to regret dumping him one day and beg him to take me back?

Banishing the thought to the furthest corner of her mind, Jariah picked up her cocktail glass and slowly sipped through her straw. She longed to have someone special in her life, a man who would love her unconditionally. As she glanced around the room and saw all the starry-eyed couples toasting with wine flutes held high, she felt a stab of envy. Am I ever going to meet Mr. Right? Or am I destined to spend my nights alone with no one to keep me company but my daughter and my girlfriends?

Her thoughts turned to her parents, but instead of pushing her memories aside, she dialed their home number. As usual, the answering machine clicked on, and when it did, she took a deep breath and mustered all the cheer she had inside her. “Hi, Mom, and Dad, it’s me, Jariah. I was just thinking about you, and wanted you to know that Ava and I miss you very much. We’d love to hear from you, so please give us a call. Bye.”

Jariah pressed the end button on her phone and dropped it back into her purse.

“Can I interest you in another pineapple martini?”

“No, just the bill, thank you.”

The waiter’s eyes were wide with alarm, but he nodded and scurried off. He was back seconds later with the hostess in tow, fidgeting nervously with his hands.

“I just got off the phone with Mr. Morretti, and he asked me to apologize on his behalf,” the hostess said, her tone contrite. “Can I get you another beverage while you wait?”

“No, thank you. I’d like the bill.”

“The bill?” she repeated. “But Mr. Morretti is on his way.”

“That’s all fine and well, but he’s already wasted enough of my time tonight.” Jariah checked her watch, saw that it was eight-thirty, and stood to her feet. Cuddling in bed, reading with her daughter was the highlight of her day, and if she hurried she could still make it home in time to put Ava to bed. “The check, please.”

“It’s on the house.”

“On the house?” Jariah frowned, confused by the hostess’s words. “Why?”

“Because you’re a personal guest of the owner.”

Oh, of course. I bet all of his female guests eat for free.

“Thank you. Good night.” Jariah tucked her black clutch bag under her arm. Walking through the lounge, she noted that every table was filled and that patrons were smiling, chatting and laughing. The waiting area was jam-packed, and as she strode past the aquarium, several men wearing wedding bands winked at her. Jariah rolled her eyes and kept on moving. Getting involved with a married man was asking for trouble, and Jariah avoided drama at all costs.

The evening air was thick and held the scent of rain. Where had the summer gone? Jariah wondered, striding through the restaurant parking lot. In a few short weeks, Ava would be back in school, and she’d be...

Jariah shuddered to think what she’d do if she still didn’t have a job. Her car needed repairs, and Ava needed back-to-school clothes and supplies. If she didn’t land an accounting position soon she’d have to stop doing all the things she loved—like taking Ava to the amusement park, sponsoring children in need and going for cocktails with her girlfriends.

“Jariah, wait up!”

Searching the parking lot for the face that matched that deep, husky voice, she slowed her pace and narrowed her eyes. And when her gaze landed on Nicco Morretti— looking all kinds of sexy in his fitted blue shirt and jeans, her feet froze to the ground.

Standing there with her heart pounding and her limbs shaking, Jariah decided that it should be a crime for a man to be that good-looking. A sin, actually, because all the thoughts that flooded her brain involved handcuffs, a blindfold and whip cream. The restaurateur oozed an intoxicating blend of masculinity and sensuality, and he moved like a tiger prowling the jungle.

“Good evening, Jariah. It’s great to see you again.”

Nicco stopped, just inches away from her face, and when Jariah got a whiff of his cologne her heart murmured inside her chest. The sexy CEO made her hyperventilate—his gaze was so powerful she felt vulnerable and exposed. Jariah hated the effect Nicco Morretti had on her, and wondered how she could be attracted to a guy who’d hit on anything with a pulse.

“I’m sorry I’m late.” His voice was low, and he appeared apologetic. “Something important came up as I was leaving the office, and I couldn’t get away.”

Jariah didn’t believe his story, not for a second, but she didn’t question him. Why bother? He’d only lie, and besides, it didn’t matter why he was late because she was leaving. Remembering their earlier conversation gave Jariah pause. She forced a sympathetic smile. “What did you want to discuss?”

“Not out here. Let’s head back inside Dolce Vita.”

“I was just leaving.”

He cocked his head to the right. “I see that.”

Jariah detected a hint of anger in his voice, and wondered what that was all about. If anyone should be upset it should be me. You’re thirty minutes late! Confused by his reaction, she looked at him inquiringly.

“I invited you here so we could have a bite, and maybe get something—”

“I’m not hungry,” she interrupted, annoyed by his blasé attitude. “I lost my appetite about thirty minutes ago.”

“Then let me buy you a drink.”

The feel of his hand along her bare shoulder weakened her resolve.

“I feel terrible for showing up late, but something came up that required my immediate attention,” he explained. “I got here as soon as I could.”

His explanation sounded plausible, reasonable even, but Jariah wasn’t moved. Unsure of what to do, she vacillated between going home to her daughter and taking Nicco Morretti up on his offer. This isn’t a date, she told herself, pushing her reservations to the back of her mind. It’s a business meeting and nothing more. I don’t even like the guy. But her tingling, inflamed body suggested otherwise. Her heartbeat roared in her ears, invisible beads of perspiration dotted her forehead and her sleeveless blouse stuck to her skin.

“Come back inside. I promise to make it worth your while.”

To Jariah’s utter disbelief and amazement, the word “yes” flew out of her mouth.

“Right this way.” Nicco gestured to the restaurant with one hand and placed the other on the small of her back. “You look incredible tonight. Even more beautiful than I remember.”

I do? The tips of her ears tingled, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Commanding her legs to move and her hands to quit shaking, Jariah tried not to notice how dreamy Nicco Morretti looked or how delicious he smelled. Even though she was attracted to him, Jariah was determined not to be his next victim.

Tell that to your hot, lust-inflected body! her inner voice jeered. You want Nicco Morretti so bad you can’t even walk straight!

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