“Hey, hoss,” I grunt. “Snowing there?”

  “Nah not much, just some sleet. How’s Telluride and the conference?”

  “Snowed in,” I grunt.

  He chuckles. “Shit. That sucks. But I trust you’ve secured the necessary ludicrously expensive bottle of something?”

  I chuckle. I still try and hide my substances from my sober friend, but he really isn’t bothered by it in any case.

  “Sure have.” I clear my throat. “Hey, your pal Elise is here, too.”

  “In Telluride? No shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  Evan laughs. “She mace you in the face or something yet?”

  “Or something,” I mutter. The only other time I’ve ever spent with Elise was with Evan there too. We were cooped up in his midtown penthouse after this psychotic Russian oligarch who’d started a business war with Evan threatened to hurt people he knew. But that time, I was half in the bag and throwing out lame lines to Elise, who was decidedly not interested.

  “Dude, you gotta back down from that tree. It’s not ever going to happen, Sam. You know she’s not even into men.”

  Sure she’s not, I think to myself. My jaw ticks at the memory of her lips on mine.

  Evan chuckles and then stops. “Hey, you wanna talk about that shit with Crystal and your brother?”

  My mood instantly darkness. “Not really,” I grunt.

  “Sorry man. That’s some shit.”

  “Family, huh?” I mutter.

  “Look, I know you’re opposed to the idea, but you really should just work out a contract with someone. This shit happens all the time when money like this is involved, Sam. Find a girl who wants to make an easy million or something, sign an airtight prenup, marry her, and let her do what she wants. In a year once you’re past the statute with Crystal, you can get divorced.”

  “I’m already divorced,” I grunt. “I’m not getting two before I’m thirty.”

  “Come on, Sam,” Evan groans. “You’re being stubborn.”

  “Damn right I am,” I hiss. “Evan, I got married for the wrong reason once. My parents did too. I’m not doing that again.”

  “We’re talking about half of your fortune, Sam,” my friend grunts. “I mean for fuck’s sake.”

  “Enough, Evan,” I growl back.

  “Alright, alright. I hear you. I’m just trying to help, man.”

  “I know,” I sigh. “And I do appreciate it.”

  Evan chuckles. “You could always marry Elise.”

  “Hilarious,” I mutter.

  He laughs. “Wouldn’t be the oddest couple in history.”

  “Close enough, though.” I shake my head. “Let me figure out my own way out of this, hoss.”

  “Sam, arranging a marriage is the way out. Otherwise that bitch is going to steal half of what you’ve built with your bare hands.” He sighs. “Sorry. That was wrong of me to call her that.”

  I laugh loudly. “No, it wasn’t.”

  “Fuck, I can’t believe Rick is part of this.”

  “I can,” I mutter, thinking of my shit-stain excuse of a brother. “You’re lucky you’re an only child.”

  Even laughs. “Hey, if you bump into Elise again, text me, and I’ll give her a call and ask if she can just talk with you.”

  “What?”

  “She’s a great sounding board, man, not just a great AA sponsor. She could probably help you think this through and look at the options with zero bullshit.”

  “Right.”

  “Hey, listen man, I gotta run. Julia and I are taking off for dinner.”

  “Enjoy it,” I grunt.

  “I’m going to text Elise now. If you spot her, talk to her. It’ll help, I promise.”

  “Later, Evan.”

  I hang up and slump into a chair by the window. I’ve got my brooding face on, and I feed it with more scotch. I think about what my friend said, even if he was kidding.

  I could marry Elise.

  I smirk. Wouldn’t that be a thing. The wild child bad boy of finance marrying a sober chick who only dates chicks. Well, at least that’s what it would look like. But it would save my ass and my fortune. I’m still laughing about how absurd it would be, when it stops sounding so crazy. I stop and frown.

  In a way, it would make a lot more sense than some twenty-year-old model or something. Elise has the same money as me, it wouldn’t look like gold digging. And she understands money, and the world we live in.

  I think about the kiss again, and my blood burns hotter. I know the best thing here is to stay away from her. Inviting her to my suite was a bad idea. I can tell myself it was to be a good Samaritan, but it wasn’t. It was because I want her, badly. It was because I like having her near me, like a forbidden temptation.

  I stand, and with a growl I open my door. Hers is closed across the lavish suite. I glance at the windows and groan; the snow is only going to get worse. A look at the weather app on my phone confirms it. There’s no damn way I’m getting out of Colorado tonight. Tomorrow doesn’t took great either. And that means being cooped up here with her. I can’t have this whole kiss thing hanging over us.

  “Fuck,” I mutter out loud. I cross the room and knock on her door. “Elise.” There’s no answer, so I pound again. Still, she doesn’t respond.

  “I come in peace,” I growl. “Look, let’s clear the fucking air, okay? Sorry I—”

  I frown. Sorry I what? Sorry I kissed her? I’m fucking not. Lying seems unhelpful.

  “Just open the door, let’s talk.”

  There’s still no answer, and I frown. “Elise?” I twist the knob, and I slowly push the door open with one more knock. “Hey, listen…”

  What the fuck? The bedroom is empty, and my boxers and t-shirt are folded up on the bed. What in the hell? I whirl and storm back out. I grab my cell and call her, but she doesn’t answer.

  “What the fuck,” I snarl. I walk to the window and stare out into the snow. At first that’s all I see: swirling snow and howling wind. But then I spot something else: a black luxury SUV trying vainly to make it through the streets below. I roll my eyes. The guy is a fucking idiot to be out in this.

  I watch as the SUV drives right into a snow drift. The tires spin out, and I roll my eyes again. Yeah, that car isn’t going anywhere.

  “Dumb bastard,” I grunt out loud. “Get out and get inside before you freeze to death…”

  One of the back doors opens, and suddenly, a head of long, dark wavy hair pokes out.

  “Oh you’re shitting me,” I hiss against the glass. It’s Elise, and she’s going to fucking freeze to death out there.

  I thunder for the door, barely gabbing my coat and shoving my feet into shoes. Downstairs, the doorman looks like he’s going to try and stop me from going outside. But then he sees the look on my face, and he doesn’t say shit. I bluster outside into the snow, grunting at the cold. Fuck, I’m blind out here with the swirls of white everywhere.

  I squint into the snow and finally catch a flicker of taillights maybe a block away. My jaw clenches. Yeah, that’s her alright. And here I am about to step into a world of shit to get her back.

  6

  Elise

  When the Escalade hits the snowbank, I know without a doubt I’ve fucked up, badly. All I know is, I kissed Sam Hemmings, and my whole world turned upside down. I sat in that bedroom with my pulse racing and my skin tingling.

  And then I panicked and called Carl, my driver. He was also snowed in at the Bellhouse, and I pushed him to see if we could get back to my own hotel a few blocks away. Carl’s too nice of a guy, or too good an employee, and said yes. And now, we’re in big fucking trouble.

  “Shit,” Carl swears. He tries to reverse and slams on the gas, but we’re not going anywhere. He glances back at me with a grim face. “I think we need to get back to the Bellhouse, Ms. James. I’m so sorry.”

  “No, no. This was me,” I groan. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to drive, Carl.” I open the passenger side door a crack, but the icy blast hits me hard. I gasp and yank the door shut again.

  It’s a snowy nightmare outside, and I’m barely dressed in a cocktail dress, light coat, and heels. Right, like I’m going to trudge back two blocks to the hotel in this. But the alternative is freezing out here.

  “You stay, Ms. James, I’ll run back and get help.” Carl flings the door open, but suddenly a gust of wind slams it shut on his shin. He hisses in pain. “Fuck!”

  “Carl!” I lean over into the front seats and pull him back inside. He winces again when he lifts his foot and shuts the door against the wind. “Are you okay?”

  Carl’s not a small man, and he looks like the tough as nails type. But the pain on his face is pretty clear. “I can make it.”

  “The hell you can,” I mutter. “No way are you going out there, Carl. You’re hurt.” I sit back and think quickly. Okay, no time to panic. “We’re fine out here in the car, though, right?”

  Carl looks skeptical. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe?” I squeak.

  “If the exhaust pipe gets blocked up with snow, we’ll need to turn the car off or get carbon monoxide poisoning.”

  “And that means no heat?”

  He nods.

  “Shit.” I glance at my cellphone, but the service is out too. Okay, screw this. I’m not just sitting around. “Stay put, Carl,” I say with more confidence than I feel. “I’m going to run for the hotel.”

  “No,” he shakes his head. “No, Ms. James…”

  “Carl, it’ll be fine. It’s less than two blocks away.”

  Carl is still arguing with me as I start to open the door. But suddenly, it’s yanked open for me, from the outside. I gasp, and I look up into cool, gorgeous, intense blue eyes.

  “Sam?” I whisper.

  His face looks hardened and determined. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, um…”

  Sam looks past me at Carl. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

  “No,” I shake my head. “No, I asked him to.”

  “Say no next time,” Sam growls at my driver. “You could have killed her.”

  There’s a possessive fierceness to Sam that makes my heart beat faster and my core tighten. I’ve never had a man speak like that about me. I bite my lip, my cheeks reddening.

  Sam glances down at the way Carl is holding his leg, and his look softens. “Can you walk on it?”

  “Yeah, yes sir.”

  Sam nods and turns back to me. “Come on.” He shrugs his coat off and wraps it around me. He goes to lift me, but I shake my head.

  “I can walk.”

  “But you aren’t,” he growls, scooping me up. I gasp as his huge arms cradle me close to muscled body. “Not in this, and not in fucking heels. Let’s go.”

  He turns, and I clutch him tightly. I bury my face against his chest against the whipping wind and snow, and then we’re off through the snow. I cling to him, and I gasp at how hard his body is under his shirt. Sam grunts and strains, his muscles clenching as he plows through the snow.

  The hotel staff meets us outside the front doors and helps us inside. They start to fawn over me, but I quickly insist they go help Carl. He’s made it through the storm, but he looks like he’s in agony. The in-house doctor comes over to me first, but again, I shake my head.

  “No, him,” I nod at Carl. He nods and heads over, and a few minutes later, he’s confirming a fractured bone and a gash that’ll need stitches. I make sure the hotel knows to bill me for anything as they bring out a wheelchair and cart Carl off to the hotel’s in-house medical clinic.

  “Fuck, I feel terrible,” I sigh, watching Carl disappear around a corner.

  “That was dumb,” Sam growls.

  I turn back to him and scowl. “I wasn’t asking your opinion.”

  “You’re getting it anyways. That was fucking stupid.”

  “Thanks,” I mutter.

  He growls. “You’re mad at me because you decide to be a moron and drive through a snowstorm? What, just to get away from me?”

  “Exactly!” I snap.

  He rolls his eyes. “Just ‘cause you kissed me?”

  I gasp. “Excuse me? You kissed me!”

  Sam makes a face. “Well…”

  “Oh fuck off.”

  He grunts. “Let’s go.”

  “What? Where?”

  “My suite,” he grunts. “You need to get warm and change.”

  “I’m staying right here, thank you very much.”

  I gasp as Sam effortlessly lifts me up and tosses me over his shoulder. My face reddens, and my pulse beats like a drum. My core tightens, and heat teases through my body.

  “What the fuck!” I gasp. Sam just keeps walking for the elevators. It’s like he’s oblivious to the stares of everyone else in the lobby looking at us like he’s kidnapping me.

  “Put me down! Damnit, put me down!”

  Sam grunts when I knee him in the chest and sets me down hard in the elevator. I stumble back from him.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “You!” He growls roughly, making me gasp. “You’re what’s wrong with me!”

  My mouth tightens. “Aww poor baby. Because I wasn’t the sure thing you thought your Tinder date would be?”

  “Because I never actually wanted the Tinder date,” he hisses. “I just wanted her to take my goddamn mind off you.”

  I blink in shock. The elevator doors close, and it gets silent.

  “What?” I finally breathe as it starts to rise.

  “Nothing,” he grunts. The elevator keeps rising until it stops, and the doors open. “Let’s go,” Sam mutters.

  I follow him quietly out of the elevator and into his suite. The door shuts behind me, and I pause there to watch Sam’s large frame storm across the suite.

  “Your clothes are still folded on the bed,” he growls over his shoulder at me,

  I watch him storm off, grabbing the bottle of scotch off the table. “Oh, gee, don’t forget your scotch!” I yell after him.

  “You know what?” Sam snarls, whirling on me. “You know goddamn what?” I gasp as he storms over to me.

  “What?”

  I gasp when he blusters right over, heading right into me until my back is against the door to the suite.

  “What?” I whisper breathlessly. I gasp when his strong hands move over my hips, pushing me into the door.

  “At least I’m honest about what I want,” he growls.

  I bark a laugh. “What, to get drunk and screw cheap dates?”

  “You,” Sam hisses. “I want you, Elise.”

  I tremble, remembering the feel of his lips; wanting them again, too. I gasp when he leans even closer to me, bending low so that his eyes are captivating mine.

  “We can’t do this,” he growls, his lips inches from my own. I bite back a moan, and my whole body trembles with heat. I want him, badly. But…

  “We can’t,” I whisper.

  “Definitely not,” he growls. He inhales deeply, like he’s breathing in the scent of me. I let a small moan slip out, wondering if he can smell how much I want him.

  But then, I see clarity. I suddenly realize how awful an idea this is. So before I can do anything else incredibly stupid like kiss him again, or worse, I firmly push him back.

  Sam’s jaw ticks as he steps back from me. He takes a shaky breath, and his eyes narrow at me. His shoulders heave, and he turns and grabs the bottle of whiskey off the side table he set it on. He looks at me once more with heat in his eyes and desire on his face. Then he turns, and storms across the suite and into his room.

  I stand there, pulse racing and my breath panting. And I want him, very very badly.

  7

  Sam

  I wake up groggy and pissed. I’m also a little hung over, which isn’t like me. Again, I know my reputation as the hard-drinking party cowboy. But it’s usually in moderation. I glance at the half empty scotch bottle and grimace.

  Forty-thousand-dollars in hundred-year-old single malt later, the hangover sucks. But even drunk, I dreamed last night. They were fever dreams, too. And they were all about the untouchable ice queen across the suite from me.

  I dreamed of going to her room and sliding under the covers with her. I imagined pulling back the sheets, and then pulling away her clothes. I imagined pulling my cock out and pushing it deep between her thighs—deep in that tight little pussy.

  I groan, glancing down at my hardness tenting the sheets. Shit. I glance at my phone and swear. Double shit. I’ve got ten missed call from Owen, my lawyer. Quickly, I call him back.

  “Talk to me, Owen.”

  He groans. “Jesus Christ, Sam. Where’ve you been?”

  “I’m snowed in in Telluride.”

  “I heard, but you can answer your phone!”

  I frown, more awake. “What’s going on?”

  “She’s filing,” he groans. “Crystal’s filing.”

  My stomach sinks. “Fuck!” I hiss. “She what?!”

  “She’s filing it tomorrow, Sam. It’ll be public the day after.”

  “The baby and everything? So every goddamn tabloid in the world is going to be calling me a deadbeat dad if I don’t cough up two-hundred-forty million bucks even though it’s fucking Rick’s?”

  “That’s the move, yeah,” Own groans. “She hired a brutal lawyer, too. Not as good as me, but she’s damn good and costs a fortune. I’m sure she’s working on spec waiting for Crystal’s payday from you. But this is her move. They’re going to blast you socially, knowing it’ll cripple your image with investors and firms if you try and hold back, given your wealth.”

  Motherfucker. I pull the phone away from my ear and squeeze my jaw and my eyes shut painfully hard. Owen’s right, this is going to hurt. I don’t give a shit about my reputation, and I could counter all day long that Crystal being pregnant sure as hell has nothing to do with me. But if she fires the first shot, it’ll be out there, and this will affect my business dealings.

  It’s one thing to play the part of the bad boy reckless rock star investor. It’s another thing to have ex-wives claiming you’re trying to duck out on child support. And then when this does go through, it means Crystal, and probably Rick, are going to get half of my fortune. My stomach sinks at the thought. It’s not even the money, it’s that its them.

 

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