Tempt Me

by S. E. Lund

  Tempt Me

  The Macintyre Brothers Series: Book One

  S. E. Lund

  Acadian Publishing Limited

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by S. E. Lund

  Chapter One

  Ella

  I couldn't take my eyes off her butt.

  It was currently bare and resting atop the dark cherry wood desk. She was my fiancé's secretary. The cherry wood desk was my fiancé's desk in his office in Concord, New Hampshire.

  It was Saturday morning, and I'd felt so bad for poor Derek, who had been working extra hard to get as much work out of the way before our wedding ceremony, which was only months away. He'd been putting in fourteen hour days six days a week. He even slept in the office a couple of times, because he was working late to get everything caught up at the office.

  That Saturday morning, I decided to drive down from Dartmouth College where I was finishing my BA and pick up some bagels and coffee, bringing them to the office so we could at least have breakfast together. He was going out of town that night on a business trip and weekends were the only time we had together while I was finishing up my spring term. A week after I was done, I would graduate with my Bachelor's Degree in English with a concentration in creative writing. Then, we were getting married a month later.

  He usually drove up to Hanover to stay with me Friday and Saturday night, but he was going out of town so I thought I'd surprise him with bagels and coffee, and maybe get in some hot sex before he flew to Washington.

  That was when I realized the picture-perfect life I thought I had was a sham.

  Wealthy family, great education, attentive best friend, and on top of it, engaged to a handsome, well-educated corporate lawyer working for my father. Square-jawed and firm abs -- the whole package. After graduating with a BA in English, I was planning on getting a job as a business editor in Concord where Derek and I would live and starting a family. We were the couple everyone else wished they were. We went to charity events and gala openings. We were invited to all the most important parties.

  Even my father approved, and he was a stickler for credentials and breeding. My father, the Emmet Carlson, Governor of New Hampshire, was hard to please but Derek Marshall pleased him. The two of them couldn't wait to be Father- and Son-in-Law.

  We were engaged to be married at a resort in July in Bermuda, with our closest friends and family in attendance. Then, I'd start my new life as Mrs. Derek Marshall, wife to the future Congressman and maybe even, one day, first lady to the President of the United States of America. Why not?

  Everything was truly perfect.

  Or so I thought.

  Then I saw her naked butt on the cherry wood desk and was as much mesmerized as I was horrified while Derek pumped into her, her butt cheeks squishing and jerking in unison with each of his grunting thrusts.

  Yes, I found Derek, who henceforth and forthwith shall be known as Jerkface, boinking his sexretary on the desk in his huge corner office.

  Jerkface was in the last throes of passion and Bunni was all, "Oh, baby, baby, pound me, pound me harder..."

  I dropped the bagels and coffee on the floor in the doorway to his office, interrupting him while he was ramming into her, her bare ass on the Johnston file. Then I turned on my heel and left the office, jamming my finger against the elevator button, my world collapsing around me.

  I was too shocked to know how to respond. I only knew I had to get out of there and fast.

  "Ella!" Jerkface grabbed his slacks and managed to slip them on, covering up his now limp dick, and caught up with me at the elevator just as the door opened. "Ellie, baby, I'm so sorry! Don't get the wrong idea about what you saw," he said, actual panic in his voice, practically tears in his eyes. "Oh, Ellie, sweetheart, don't look at me like that! I love you. She means nothing to me. It was just a one-time thing."

  "I heard that," Bunni called out from the depths of the office.

  "Ellie, it means nothing. I was anxious about the wedding and the work has been overwhelming and--."

  He got to my side, the waistband of his slacks in his hands. "Ellie..."

  "Fuck off, you fucking jerk." I stepped inside the car and pressed the down button, my vision blurred from my tears. He was still zipping up his slacks as the doors closed and I was finally alone.

  "Ellie! Don't do this!" he called out as the elevator began its descent.

  Luckily, his voice soon faded and before I knew it, I was out of the building, running down the street, wiping my cheeks and trying not to sob out loud.

  I arrived at my car and opened the door, sliding into the driver's seat before locking the doors and letting my tears flow.

  Jerkface arrived at the car door just as I was pushing the start button, having taken the other elevator. His white shirt was open and his feet were bare. I swear I hated him so much at that moment that if I could have driven over him and gotten away with it, I would have.

  "Ella, don't do this to me!"

  "You did it to yourself, Jerkface," I yelled through the window, giving him the finger. I drove off with a squeal of tires, wishing I was on gravel road so I could kick it up into his cheating face, but I wasn't.

  I managed to drive back to Hanover without crashing. Once inside my dorm room, I packed a bag and made hotel reservations. For the first few days, I didn't tell anyone exactly where I was – not even Steph, my bestie and dorm mate. All I said was that Jerkface and I had split and I needed to spend some time alone with Movie Channel and a tub of Dutch Chocolate ice cream.

  Then, I cried my eyes out.

  As I was lying on the hotel bed, the movie Get Bill playing on the television screen, a huge chocolate fudge sundae with whipped cream for supper, I heard my cell chime for the tenth time. I would have ignored it but I decided to check, see what new excuse Jerkface had concocted. Other than more panicked texts from him, vowing undying contrition and loyalty forever and ever, there was one from her.

  BUNNI: He was only marrying you because of your father. He doesn't love you. He really loves me but wanted to use your father to get ahead in politics. Be thankful you found out now before it was too late.

  I stared at the text, then punched out a response.

  ELLA: I don't want a cheating jerk like him anymore. He's all yours.

  For the first week afterwards, I lurked around my dorm, waiting for commencement ceremony and spending time with my bestie, Steph. After commencement, I moved back to Concord with my parents and tried to figure out my life. A month passed and then two. My mother tried to talk me into giving Jerkface a second chance, but I refused, steadfast in my determination that he'd had his chance. Now that Jerkface and I weren't getting married, I was free to figure out what the hell to do with my life.

  For the past year, I thought I had everything planned out but now my life was wide open.

  A year earlier, I had gone to a writer's conference in Manhattan and it was there I met the woman who would change my life. Sharon Rogers, an editor with a publishing house in Manhattan, read my resume, looked at my credentials a
nd suggested that if I wanted to be an editor, I should consider doing an internship with her in Manhattan. They hired one each year for a one-year term. The next opening would be the following fall so I could keep it in mind.

  One night as I sat alone in my bedroom, I got a text from her asking if I was still interested in an internship with her company. I realized that I had to do something to move on so I was ecstatic that she considered me.

  She'd been without an assistant for two weeks after her last intern informed Sharon that she took a paid job and didn't even give Sharon twenty-four-hours-notice.

  ELLA: How soon do you want me to start?

  It took a while, but she finally responded.

  SHARON: Ella! Are you serious? I can't believe my luck. I was worried you would have already found a paying job and wouldn't be interested in an unpaid internship.

  ELLA: I want to move to Manhattan and get into the publishing business. I have some money saved so I could do an internship for six months.

  SHARON: Well, then, come! It's perfect timing. How soon can you be here?

  ELLA: As soon as I can get a place to stay and a ticket there, I'm your man. Can we say next week at the earliest?

  SHARON: Oh, thank God. Call me as soon as you know when you're arriving. We'll talk about your start date and terms of employment.

  ELLA: Thanks, Sharon. You're a lifesaver.

  SHARON: No, the thanks are all mine. I can't believe my luck that you want to work as an unpaid intern. I was looking through the resumes of other candidates a friend of mine in the headhunting business brought me but you have the best credentials. Bachelor of Arts with an Honors in English, experience editing your school's literary magazine, your own work published. I'm so glad we met at the conference.

  ELLA: I can't wait to start.

  I sent the message and leaned back onto the bed, my focus now on finding a place to live in Manhattan. It wouldn't be an easy task, but if Sharon was willing to take me on as an intern, I'd do whatever I could to go to Manhattan.

  I'd leave New Hampshire and all the memories of cheating Jerkface behind me and never look back.

  My father wouldn't be happy about it, and my mother would weep and moan, but I had to make my own life, on my own terms. I had always wanted to move to Manhattan and get into publishing, but had postponed it all because Jerkface was so insistent we get married and settle down. He was so persuasive that I let him talk me out of going to Manhattan for a few years while he finished the term working for my father.

  I'd learned my lesson well. Don't compromise on your dreams for a man.

  I wouldn't make that mistake again.

  Chapter Two

  Joshua

  The law offices of Covington, Covington, Covington, Peters, and Franklin occupied the entire thirty-third floor of a building bordering Central Park. The view from the boardroom overlooked the park and was one of the most exclusive locations in all of Manhattan.

  One of the Covington brothers – I could never remember which one was which because they all had identical bald heads and glasses and all had names starting with "G" – George, Gregory, Gordon – sat at the head of a huge polished wood table in the boardroom, my father's last will and testament on the tabletop in front of him. In my hand was a letter from my father that we were all supposed to read before we read the will.

  I scanned it, wondering why he had written us a letter, but my sense was that it wouldn't be good news.

  I was right.

  To my dear boys:

  If you are reading this, I am dead.

  You have all lived exceptionally privileged lives by virtue of having been born lucky – to wealthy parents. You have all gone to the best schools, lived in the most affluent of neighborhoods. You have lived the bachelor's life since graduation, sowing your wild oats, and traveling around the world in pursuit of your dreams. While I love you, and am proud of each of you, it's time to grow up and be men.

  You know that I have no respect for trust fund babies. I don't believe in inherited wealth. None of you did anything to deserve my fortune other than being born and as a result, none of you will receive a dollar of it upon my death; it will all go to charity. I'm sorry if you had plans that included some share of my fortune. Luckily for you, your dear departed mother made me promise I would include you in my will despite my distaste for inherited wealth but I worked for my fortune and I expect you to work for yours.

  To that end, I have created trust funds for each of you. They are called "Incentivized Trusts" and one of the Covington brothers will explain it to you in detail. The funds have certain incentives that, once satisfied, will result in the disbursement of instalments. As to the remainder of my overall fortune, it will be divided into five equal portions. Each of you will be the head of a foundation in your name so the wealth I amassed during my lifetime will do some good in this world. It's up to you what kind of charity you create with the foundation revenue. You will receive a healthy salary for being CEO, but nothing more.

  My one piece of advice on how to have a happy life? Marry well. Have a family with many children. Love your family with all your heart, the way I did you and your mother.

  I know this will be a very unsatisfactory outcome and that you were probably planning on how to spend all my money, but that's not the way life works.

  Love,

  Your Father

  What the…

  He hadn't, as we all expected, divided his huge fortune among the five of us. I glanced around the table at my four brothers to see if they were as blindsided as I was by its contents.

  David was the first to speak up. The youngest of my brothers, David was never afraid to say exactly what was on his mind, no matter where he was or whom he was with.

  "What the ever-loving hell is this?" He held up the sheet of paper and glared at Covington. "What the hell is an incentivized trust fund?"

  Covington shuffled the papers in front of him and avoided David's eyes. He cleared his throat before speaking.

  "It's intended to provide disbursements when certain requirements are met and not until."

  "He cut us out of his will," my second-youngest brother Christian said, a note of disbelief in his voice. At twenty-nine, he was just establishing himself as an adjunct professor at Columbia Law, and had political ambitions. He could have probably used some of my father's fortune to fund a future campaign for political office.

  "No, he didn't. You'll each have a considerable salary from your foundations. If you satisfy certain requirements, you'll receive annual disbursements from your trust funds."

  "Such as?" Christian asked.

  Covington flipped a few pages. "On the anniversary of your wedding day, and on each anniversary afterwards, you will get twenty-five million dollars."

  "What?" David's expression was almost comical. "That's peanuts! He's worth what -- ten billion dollars?"

  "He's been very generous, considering his views on inherited wealth. He's divided up his fortune into two equal parts. One will be used to create five foundations. The other will be used to fund you and your brothers."

  "He's paying us twenty-five million dollars to get married and stay married for a year?" David asked, stuck on the marriage part. "He can't really do that, can he? I mean, I could just marry some girl from the bar and divorce her the following year."

  "You don't have to get married, but if you do, you'll get a disbursement on each anniversary of that date as long as you stay married to your spouse. Twenty-five million a year for up to twenty years."

  "He's paying us to get married?"

  Covington almost rolled his eyes. "Your father wants you to find spouses you will be happy with and so you can't just enter into a marriage of convenience. If you do, it will only be worth twenty-five million of the one billion fund. Your father hopes you won't divorce, but understands that it might be beyond your control, but only three marriages are permitted in total over your lifetime. Once you have divorced your third wife, that's it. No more money."
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  "That's like," David said, struggling for words. "It's slavery! He's enslaving us to our wives."

  He stood up from his chair and went to the large picture window overlooking the city. Tall and well-built, David looked every inch the rock star with his longish black hair and tattoos covering his arms. He played lead guitar in an alt-metal band that was currently touring the US. They'd signed a big contract and had a new album coming out in the fall. He had groupies–lots of them–and girlfriends in every city waiting for his return. It would be especially hard for him to settle down, considering all the women willing to sleep with him on a moment's notice.

  I could see Covington fight to keep from smiling. "You don't have to get married, David. You can stay single for as long as you want but then you forfeit access to your half a billion-dollar fund set aside for your married life, which your father believes is far too much. Plus, there are incentives for having children. On the birth of your first child, or on the date you adopt if you are unable to have your own biological children, you will receive another disbursement of twenty-five million on that date and on each subsequent year. All told, it works out to one billion dollars over twenty years. That's quite a significant sum."

  We were all expecting to inherit one-fifth of his fortune. That would mean each of us would become a billionaire.

  I stared at the letter in my hand, and thought of my father. He really wanted us to replicate his own life.