by Liz Meldon
Skye just needed one to stick. And she had a good feeling about this one. She could chat about sex all day. Sure, her cheeks would be permanently pink for about three months when she first started, but it would all be old hat after a while.
Oz, her ball of pure white feline fluff, sleepily cracked open one blue eye from the other end of the couch, clearly unimpressed that his afternoon nap had been interrupted—again. She grinned, creeping across the cushions toward him, then laughed when he rolled onto his back, belly up for rubs.
“I’m not falling for that,” she cooed in a voice strictly reserved for cat cuddling. Knowing better than to stick her hand in the bear trap, she went for his cute little face instead, smooshing it between both hands and showering him with kisses. His only protest was a pitiful meow, and while his paws pressed to her face, his claws remained sheathed.
She loved him for that.
And she adored Cole—despite their recent weirdness at Finn Rai’s…sexual event—for giving her this little bundle of kitten joy four years prior. Life was somehow easier with her Oz man around.
Purrs intensified, the cat gave in to her affections, but just as Skye was about to scoop him into her arms, someone knocked at her apartment’s door. She straightened with a frown; the front desk hadn’t called to let her know someone had stopped by to see her. Since the bash at Finn’s house, she had nothing scheduled with Cole either. None of her friends were likely to make random house calls.
Another knock, this time louder. Untangling herself from Ozzy, she strode over, tugging her little booty shorts down—it was too warm for yoga pants, too cold with the AC blasting, so she opted for less clothes and open windows to strike a happy medium. She did a quick T-shirt check to make sure it wasn’t see-through, then peered through the peephole.
Roses peered back.
Slowly, toeing the line between caution and curiosity, Skye undid the various locks, then opened the door just a few inches—and found Finn Rai smirking on the other side of that bouquet.
“Finn…” Her first instinct was to shut the door and pretend she wasn’t home. She hadn’t taken him up on the tantalizing offer of brunch suggested on the card he had slipped into her purse last week—though not because she didn’t want to. Skye just hadn’t decided what would be healthiest for her relationship with Cole yet, but that hadn’t kept the deliriously sexy Finn Rai, heir to the Rai’s Sweets chocolate empire in Britain, out of her dreams.
“Skye…” With a voice like velvet, his head tipped to one side as that smirk shifted into a grin. “Are you indecent?”
“No.” She hesitated a few moments longer before opening the door, then popped a hand onto her cocked hip, ignoring the bouquet that was clearly meant for wooing her. “Just wondering how you got my address. Pretty sure I didn’t give it to you.”
He was even more handsome in daylight: tall, with the broad shoulders of a swimmer, brown skin a tad more sun-kissed than she remembered, and a devilishly handsome smile. He wore a pair of knee-length green shorts, stopping at the right length for her to admire marvelously toned calves, and a beige tee with a slight V-neck—just enough for her to catch a glance at the muscular chest she knew lay beneath. Flip-flops replaced the leather dress shoes of their last encounter, and she decided right then and there he was one of the few men who looked equally scrumptious in formal attire and casual loungewear. Still, the slightly styled cowlick of his jet black hair, the dark hue mirrored in his eyes, suggested he had put some effort into his appearance.
The butterflies in her stomach fluttered to life at the thought.
“Well, you see, I have eyes everywhere,” he teased. The delectable rumble of that sultry baritone, wrapped in a posh English accent—oh, it was positively swoon-worthy. Skye leaned on the door for support, hoping Finn wouldn’t notice, and narrowed her eyes.
He waited, as if expecting a response, then cleared his throat and straightened, lowering the bouquet. “Actually, Cole gave it to me.”
“What?”
“I said I was sending thank-you cards,” Finn admitted with an impish shrug. “These are for you.”
Skye bit her lower lip before letting her gaze drop to the roses. They really were quite lovely, though there was something strange about their color. Darker than standard roses… Thicker, too. Finn held the bouquet out for her, and when she finally accepted it with a long, drawn-out sigh, Skye caught a whiff of one of her favourite scents.
“They’re chocolate?” She went for one of the leaves, laughing softly when it popped off and started to melt between her fingers. Finn slipped his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth onto the balls of his feet, his pleasure at her surprise obvious.
“Any old idiot can get actual flowers,” he mused.
She popped the leaf in her mouth and briefly closed her eyes, savoring the exquisite taste. Rai’s Sweets really did make the best chocolates, and from the look on his face, Finn knew it.
“I had it commissioned for you at the shop in LA. It arrived this morning.” He watched her break off another leaf and pop it in her mouth, smiling. “I’m actually in charge of rolling out this new service in the US… We can pretty much make anything out of chocolate.”
“It tastes delicious,” she murmured, swallowing a moan.
“And, as I recall, so do you.” Finn pursed his lips when she looked up sharply, cheeks on fire, and appeared to be trying not to laugh. “Can I come in? Just to talk… Or more, if you want. I’m game either way.”
Skye contemplated slamming the door in his smug face, just to knock him down a few pegs, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead, she sighed again and stepped aside.
“Just to talk,” she insisted, fighting the urge to dreamily float along behind him in his cologne cloud as he breezed by. Sandalwood. Cedar. Woodsy yet refined—the scent brought forth images of Finn hiking through towering red pines to a cabin. Said cabin would be stocked with every amenity a billionaire could need, and he’d sip bourbon on a deck while Skye padded toward him, wearing his discarded shirt over her naked, glowing, totally satisfied body, post-orgasm…
She blinked and slammed the door harder than necessary.
Whoa.
This…was not good. Did the cologne companies know their product had such insane effects on women?
Or was it all Finn? Maybe he just enhanced something that was already mind-altering…
Focus, Skye.
Shaking her head, she crossed the spacious, sparsely furnished apartment and set the bouquet of chocolate roses on the kitchen island. Finn had already made himself comfortable on the couch, and as she turned back, deciding to hover there at the island to keep some distance between them, she found him lifting a limp, sleepy Oz onto his lap. The cat appeared mildly disgruntled to be manhandled by a stranger, but soon closed his eyes, purring, as Finn massaged his neck.
Skye knew just how talented those fingers could be…
Another headshake to refocus. “What are you doing here?”
“Straight the point today, I see,” he mused, his attention on Oz. Skye folded her arms over her chest.
“Well, we left things kind of awkward, and now you’re here, so…”
“I just wanted to talk,” Finn told her. He finally looked up from Oz, perfectly businesslike, and stretched his arm along the back of the couch. “Are you romantically involved with Cole Daniels?”
Anxiety skittered through her in prickling waves.
“How is that any of your business?”
“I’ve made it my business.” Finn’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I’m many things in this life, Skye. Some pleasant, others not. I know that. However, one thing I’m not is a man who fucks his friend’s girlfriend. I’ve never been that man, nor do I have any intention of becoming that man. So,” he scooped Oz up to his chest, then inched to the edge of the couch and leaned forward, meeting her eye, “I need to know the truth.”
To anyone else, Skye would have told her usual lie, that she and Cole had been dati
ng for years, right away. However, knowing that Finn had met Cole long before she even started telling said lie, she couldn’t deceive him. She couldn’t let him walk away thinking he had screwed over one of the nicest men Skye had the privilege of associating with. And, given how firmly he spoke, his tone suggesting an instant shift from playful to no-nonsense, she had a feeling Finn felt the same way about Cole as she did.
Well. Maybe not completely. Even though she had come to terms with the fact that Cole probably, maybe, potentially wasn’t interested in pushing the boundaries of their relationship, she still had feelings for him. Ones she had been trying to bury by throwing herself into her workouts, her day trips to the beach, her Friday night sushi gab-fests with her friends, and her soul-crushing job hunt. Skye liked to keep busy, but in the week that had followed her run-in with Finn and her weird goodbye with Cole, she had been living on overdrive. Hell, she was due at the cat sanctuary in an hour so she could voluntarily clean cages and litterboxes, immediately followed by a paint-and-wine-night thing with her girl Brynn and a few friends downtown.
“Skye.” She leapt out of her wandering thoughts at the sharp way Finn said her name.
“It’s complicated,” was the best answer she could give him.
He did a great job at maintaining his steely demeanor while Oz, now wide awake, sniffed and rubbed his fuzzy cheeks against Finn’s stubbly cheek. “Why?”
“Because…” She threw her hands up. “Because it just is.”
“I am privy to some information regarding his use of that agency.” The way his face pinched with distaste sent her hackles up. She recrossed her arms, scowling as he struggled to say it aloud—something Skye had grappled with at first too. “The… The… Well… I know that he has a, er…” He gestured to her, floundering. “You know.”
“Sugar baby?” she offered, after which Finn settled back on the couch, Oz still cuddled to his chest, and scoffed.
“Yes, that. What a ridiculous title.”
“I’m not arguing with you there.”
“He’s told me some details of the arrangement,” Finn continued without missing a beat. “I’m surprised we’ve never run into each other at events, but Cole and I have been a bit opposite with schedules in the last five years, and for my own sanity I don’t follow the tabloids. But from what I’ve gathered, he’s very fond of his…sugar… Oh, don’t make me say it.”
While it was tempting to draw out his torment, the subject matter was a little too dangerous for Skye to hem and haw around.
“Look, I can’t confirm or deny anything that you’re saying,” she told him, reaching back and snagging another chocolate leaf, “as per my contract.”
She popped it in her mouth quickly, though she didn’t taste the chocolate as strongly this time. The silence that followed weighed her down, smothering her taste buds, drying out her throat. Finn was back to massaging Oz, his brow slightly furrowed.
“Right.” He cleared his throat. “I see.”
Panic started to make its presence known as a wave of nausea struck her. “You can’t say anything to anyone—”
“Like I would do that to Cole.” Another scoff. He retracted his hands when Oz took a swipe at him, and they both watched the fluffy white creature toddle off his lap and settle one cushion away. The cat stared at Finn for a moment, then began furiously grooming himself, as if to clean off all that scrumptious man smell. Finn chuckled, then folded his hands on his lap with a soft sigh. “Cole and I are friends. Not society friends, actual friends. Good friends. His reasons for using the agency’s services have always made sense to me. Before you arrived, the press, particularly back home, was ruthless when it came to his love life. I wouldn’t ever bring that on him again.”
Relief left her unsteady, and Skye grabbed another leaf before joining him on the couch, keeping Oz between them as a buffer.
“Thank you,” she said softly, breaking the leaf in half and offering him some, which he accepted with a small smile.
“Of course. I don’t want either of you to get into any legal trouble. You don’t have to tell me anything about your relationship.” He studied the leaf, the green shimmer catching in the sunlight streaming through the enormous windows at the far end of the couch. “Cole has always spoken of you, without naming you, rather affectionately. I assumed there was a sort of familial-like bond between him and his…person.”
Great. Skye chomped on her half of the leaf, catching the bits that crumbled onto her shirt. So, Cole talked about her like she was, what, a little sister? He had always been protective over her; he’d spared no expense on security for the apartment, installed all the right apps on her phone and laptop to keep her data safe, and insisted on her being escorted home after night outings, usually by his assistant if he couldn’t do it personally—even when his assistant wasn’t technically on the clock. She was a year younger; it made some sense that he would describe her as a sister to someone like Finn.
But just because it made sense didn’t make it feel good.
“Judging from your expression, that isn’t welcome news,” Finn mused. Heat flooded her cheeks and she looked away quickly, wishing he couldn’t read her quite so well. After all, he didn’t know her; they’d just had sex.
“It’s fine,” she said, ignoring how stiff her words sounded. “Cole and I are friends too. I mean, outside of all the, you know, sugar daddy stuff, I actually think he’s one of my best friends. It doesn’t bother me that he’d talk about me like that.”
“Funny how I don’t believe you.”
“Well, I guess that’s your problem, isn’t it?” She picked at her nails, waiting. If Finn had worn a suit, he might have stood and buttoned up his jacket. Instead, he merely drummed his fingers along the back of the couch, smirking, and then tapped Oz lightly on the head. The cat rolled over, paws poised for destruction.
“I’m not here to waste anyone’s time, Miss Summers,” he said, a shiver running down her spine at the use of her last name—something else she hadn’t given him. “Least of all my own.”
Her gaze followed him as he stood. “Because you’re a very busy man?”
“Precisely.”
“Most of you are.”
“Hmm. I suppose.” He pursed his lips, as if unimpressed with her implication. “So, let me be perfectly frank. Are you in love with Cole?”
Her whole body seemed to spontaneously ignite at the question, her cheeks on fire, the heat spreading down her neck and under the scoop neck of her slouchy tee. “I… I… No.”
Skye had never asked herself the question before, not seriously anyway, but it worried her that she stuttered over her answer. Even if she did love Cole, what was the point? Nothing was ever going to happen—why pine over a man who adored you like a sister, and whose friendship you might never be able to live without?
“Right,” Finn said briskly, running a hand down the front of his T-shirt like he was smoothing the creases from a four-hundred-dollar button-down. “If there’s romantic love between you two, I’ll bow out. I’ll withdraw my name from consideration. I have no interest in mangling either of your hearts.”
She sniffed, her heart pounding. “How noble of you.”
“But since you’re not in love with him”—he looked down at her for confirmation, and she hastily shook her head—“then I’m all in.”
“But—”
“Not in public, of course,” Finn insisted, quieting her with his hands as one might soothe a startled horse. “I understand there are contractual obligations between you and Cole regarding your public personas, and I’m not here to sully that. But in private, I’m coming after you.” He all but smoldered down at her and Skye’s stupid stomach butterflies were positively beside themselves. “Hard.”
“Why?” Skye couldn’t think of anything else to say in response to that. Never in her life had someone stated their active intention to pursue her. Even before Cole and the whole sugar daddy business, her dating life had been stunted because she worked all the
time. Dates were more like one-night stands, and long-term relationships were usually just friends-with-benefits hook-ups that usually included food after.
Finn studied her for a moment, his expression softening. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”
She snorted. “No.”
“Me neither. Worth a shot though.” He flashed a smirk before swooping down and kissing her firmly, a hand on the back of the couch while the other cupped her face. The butterflies turned to fireworks, and she let out a tattered, ragged moan, her eyes dropping closed as her body arched up toward him of its own accord, desperate to be closer. Finn pulled away abruptly, ending the kiss just as quickly as it began, and her lips tingled pleasantly in his absence. When she pressed her hands to her furiously burning cheeks, her eyes wide, he laughed and headed for the door.
“Now, put my number from the business card into your phone,” he instructed, pointing to the abandoned black rectangle on the couch, “and text me so I have a better means of reaching you. Otherwise I’m just going to keep showing up here at inopportune times to kiss you.”
“What a nightmare,” she said, pleased that her voice wasn’t a breathless mess. “Whatever’s a girl to do?”
“Call me.” He flashed one last gorgeous grin before leaving, the most graceful, suave exit her front door had ever experienced.
Alone again, Skye sank down into the couch and groaned, hands pressing harder to her cheeks.
In her peripherals, over her fingertips, she caught Ozzy staring at her.
“Oh, don’t judge me,” she snapped. “You were all over him too.”
The cat offered a slow blink in response before resuming his noisy grooming session.
What the hell had just happened? Was this real life? She wasn’t dreaming, passed out in delirious excitement after landing an interview?
