Rapid Pulse: A Limited Edition Spicy Romance Collection

by Gina Kincade

  "I'm going to check the room and get ready. I will be down in a bit to head out," Kane says to no one in particular.

  Carrying his coffee, the warm liquid gives him strength, as each step up the stairs is like having his foot full of concrete.

  Pushing his door open, the slight creak is the only sound that greets him. Putting his coffee down on his wooden night stand, he heads in to the bathroom.

  Getting out of the shower, he grabs his clothes roughly off the hook, causing a paper to flutter down to the wood floor. The white paper against the dark floor a contrast. Picking it up, he slowly opens it, the rough papers rubbing against his fingers.

  It is Desiree's writing, and his wolf perks up. His own heart beat is erratic, worrying and hoping.

  I am sorry.

  I hope you can forgive me.

  I need to save what I know I can.

  I love you.

  Dez

  His heart falls in to his stomach, and his wolf cries. He can't even be angry at her. If she got hurt, or if the baby got hurt, he would never be able to live with himself. Shaking his head to clear the thoughts, he dresses quick.

  "Let’s get this day over with."

  Kane

  The soft ground is supple under his feet. His steps quick.

  A nearby bird is calling out to others, creating a canopy of joyful music as they walk in to the clearing. Scanning the area, along with Shawn, they both use their animals to check.

  "All clear," Shawn says.

  "All clear," Kane repeats, only seeing rabbits scurrying through the undergrowth a fair distance away.

  They all stand in the position Dez told them, a 'V', to protect their sides. And it allows them to close off into a circle if needed.

  A distant wolf's cry carries on a fierce rustling breeze. Loud enough to drown out the chorus of the birds.

  Kane looks to his pack mates, all standing up with him. For him. Through their link, he sends his thanks and gets multiple replies back at once, causing him to smile.

  The Smith pack entering the other side of the clearing instantly wipes the smile off his face. Kane's eight other pack members are out-numbered with five more wolves and one human in the Smith's pack.

  "Kane, I am mighty glad you chose correctly," Justin Smith says. Dez's ex-boyfriend. The one who caused her to run for so many months.

  High-Rise Heat by Elle Berlin

  © Elle Berlin 2017

  Cover design by Elle Berlin

  Ilsa has everything planned.

  Traveling to a Hong Kong to make the biggest deal of her career ... check.

  Sharing the same high-rise suite with her ridiculously sexy boss, Dominick ... double check.

  Planning to change their relationship status from two-years of flirty looks across the board room to multiple O’s on every surface their modern suite has to offer ... you’d better believe it!

  Nothing is going to ruin this weekend.

  Except ... for the half-naked man Ilsa finds sleeping on the couch.

  Unbeknownst to her, Dominick has invited his best friend from law school to drop by. Suddenly three’s a crowd, especially when the third wheel is Isaac, the lounge-around-shirtless-and-make-thousands-of-dollars-in-his-pajamas CEO of a small internet startup.

  Quick to make his intentions known, Isaac informs Ilsa that if Dominick hasn’t made a move in two years, she ought to find a man who isn’t afraid to appreciate her. Suddenly, the biggest business deal of her life hangs in the balance and Ilsa can’t stop thinking about the tempting take-action stranger who isn’t the boss she thought she was falling in love with.

  Chapter One

  Ilsa

  “Holy shit! Is that our view?” I drop my carry-on bag in the entry way and walk straight through the presidential suite to the balcony terrace.

  The investment firm we work for told us they’d spare no expense on this trip, but I had no clue they’d put us at the top of the tallest high-rise that Hong Kong has to offer. The city skyline sparkles in a carnival of color, shimmering in teal and pink and silver.

  “Dom!” I call back into the suite, where I see his shadow near the door, tipping the bellman. Between us are floor-to-ceiling windows that run the whole length of the living room, all of them reflecting the spectacle of color behind me. “Get out here. You won’t believe this!”

  I walk to the edge of the balcony, feeling as if I’ve stepped into a universe of stars. Not only is the sky twinkling, but the entire terrace is reflective and breathtaking—the railing walls are made of glass and a private pool reflects the city. There’s even a lounge area with a modern fire-pit where flames dance from a mound of cut glass that look like a raw gems. It’s a sparkling terrace of wishes, a thousand stars and neon reflections of light.

  “Damn! How many rooms are in here?” I hear Dom say from one of the hallways and a prickle of delight warms my stomach. The summer air is warm and balmy, and a tiny ball of nerves flutters over my skin. I’m sharing this suite with Dom—my boss.

  I glance back through the glass. Dom wheels in our luggage cart, looking like he just walked out of the pages of GQ magazine, completely elegant and unflustered by the long flight. His fitted grey suit is cut to perfection, hugging his tall frame, and there’s not a button out of place. Dom wears business suits the way other men wear t-shirts. They just fit him. I’ve never seen him more at ease than in a business suit, as if there’s nothing more comfortable in the world. In fact, I can’t say I’ve ever seen him wear anything else.

  My palms slip against the terrace railing as I watch him unload the cart. He fills out his trousers too well and his fit backside makes me flush. Dom and I have been on dozens of business trips before. We’ve shared a hundred shitty cups of hotel coffee and mastered the art of eating chow-mien out of Styrofoam take-out boxes with plastic chopsticks. We’ve spent countless nights laughing and talking strategy—followed by an awkward good-night hug—before I’d retreat back to my private room. Two years he’s been grooming me for the firm’s restaurant division. Two years of waking up in the morning and strolling into the hotel lobby where I’m met by Dom’s brilliant seize-the-day smile as if I didn’t sleep alone in my hotel room fantasizing about what might’ve happen if he’d knocked on my door in the middle of the night and asked for dessert.

  Only Dom isn’t that kind of a man. I can imagine his suit on the floor and his Irish skin dolloped in whipped cream as much as I’d like, but the reality is he’s the epitome of professional. Brilliant and always the gentleman. And gentlemen don’t appreciate you thanking them for their business acquisitions tutelage with cans of whipped cream and naughty intentions. Not even after the two of you made a silly drunken pack on your first business trip together to never keep anything from each other. I’m pretty sure “I want to jump your bones” doesn’t fall under appropriate boss and mentee secret-sharing. So, yes, that prickle of heat I feel when Dom is near is one card I keep close to my chest.

  Dom knows these trips are important—to the company, to our careers, to me. And he’s gone out of his way to make sure I feel like his equal. “It’s hard to be a woman in a man’s world,” he’s said, and it’s been his personal declaration to make sure I’ve never felt taken advantage of. But that pronouncement has also created an unspoken tension between us, because Dom would never mess up our business relationship with something like sex ... despite our longing glances or the hundreds of late hours we’ve spent together in foreign cities, both of us over-worked and full of pent-up stress.

  He’s my boss; the boss who respects my job too much to ever make a move. That, and the easy excuse of separate rooms.

  But this trip is different.

  This trip is our last trip. Not only has the firm put us up in this star-lit presidential suite together, but this is it. This is the largest acquisition our firm has ever made and it will give us a significant foothold in the Asian market. If Dom and I nail this deal, I’ll get promoted to the head of the restaurant division, which is what Dom’
s been grooming me for the last two years anyway. We both know it’s been leading up to this. Nail this weekend and I will be Dom’s equal. I’ll be given my own accounts and staff and office on the twenty-second floor of the building that just so happens to be on the complete other side of Manhattan. Yup, I won’t be working with Dom anymore. I won’t even be in the same building. This is our last trip together. It could be the jet-lag or the warm foreign-country air, but I know he feels it too. The finality of this. And, yes, I’m about to make the biggest deal of my career, but honestly, it’s not the deal that’s got my palms sweaty.

  “Damn, that’s beautiful.”

  I turn to see Dom leaning against the glass doorway, his auburn hair catching the wind. A hint of that rogue Irish-boy peeks out from under all his polish and grace, and I can’t help but smile. Dominick Pierce is the smartest and most brilliant acquisitions lawyer I could ever imagine having by my side. He’s taught me more about negotiation and business law than I could thank him for, but that’s not what’s got me twisted up inside. Dom’s gaze lingers somewhere between me and the glittering city at my back, but I can’t read his expression.

  I hold his gaze, consciously imagining something there that probably isn’t. It’s irrational, and I know that, even though the affection I feel for him is real. Even though the respect and admiration he has for me is real. But respect doesn’t easily translate to lust.

  “Did you bring a bathing suit?” I ask, turning away from the heat I want to imagine is in his gaze and shifting our attention to something lighter. I walk toward the pool, hearing him laugh uncomfortably.

  “Um...” he mumbles. “No, I didn’t,” he says politely and I suddenly realize the implication of that comment.

  I stop in front of the sheen of silver water and try to shrug off my own unconscious intention. “Too bad,” I say playfully, even though my imagination is already a traitor. What would it be like to walk out here in the morning and find Dom in this pool? To be met by his beautiful smile and wet body? And he just said he doesn’t have a bathing suit, so ... my neck heats making me kick off my shoe and dip my toes in the water. The surface ripples as my foot descends into the cold, sending a chill all the way up my leg and under my skirt. “Oh wow!” I say, surprised. “They don’t heat the pool.”

  I pull my foot out, despite the soothing chill of goosebumps that shiver over my skin.

  “I bet it feels good,” Dom says, walking toward the balcony railing with his head angled away from me. I wonder if he’s doing that deliberately. If he’s avoiding me with my shoe off and my ankle wet. Is he’s also thinking about what it would be like to be in this pool surrounded by water and skin?

  All I can do is speculate as Dom looks out at the city. He leans against the wall of glass and it looks like he about to fly, perched on the edge of a precipice. I can’t help but feel like my heart is standing out on that edge with him. We’ve both known for weeks that we’d be sharing this suite. And here we are, for the first time up in this high-rise. Alone.

  My body warms with how badly it wants this to happen, and a part of me considers walking over to him right now and kissing him. I could close this unspoken distance and tension by pressing him up against that glass and showing him exactly how I’ve imagined this happening.

  “Do you want to choose a bed?” Dom asks and my eyes cut to him. A flush of heat spreads across my chest and I know I should’ve worn something more professional. This airy sundress is thin as crepe paper and it barely hides how my nipples peak at that comment. Only he’s not looking at me. Instead he’s nodding back to the suite. “I think there are four bedrooms. You can pick whichever one you want first. I don’t mind.”

  “Oh, uh ... sure,” I say, realizing he only means for me to find my own private space, which nipples-be-damned I wouldn’t mind right now. I had no idea how badly my body has been waiting for this weekend. Nor did I realize that even the slightest innuendo, which wasn’t innuendo at all, could betray how eager my body is. Dom is over ten feet away, yet my body is achy and flushed and positive that this is a sure thing. But, if I’ve learned anything from the last ten years of fighting my way up the corporate ladder, it’s that treating anything like a sure thing is a recipe for disaster. Especially as a woman.

  “Are you nervous?”

  My eyes find him again. “Nervous? What do you mean?”

  “About tomorrow,” he says calmly, a slight wind playing with the collar of his shirt. “About the negotiation?”

  “Oh, uh ... no. Of course not.” I shake myself and find my shoe. “Sorry. It must be the jet-lag.” I slip my foot back inside the heel, needing to focus. “We’ve got this planned, Dom. Everything will be perfect.”

  I take a long measured breath before walking toward him, forcing myself to ignore the soft way my dress plays against my hips and the tickle of fabric at the back of my thighs. My body thinks it’s on a date and this is the most romantic high-rise in the world—twinkling lights, summer dress, my beautiful boss with soft lips who’s casually leaning against the railing.

  “Are you nervous?” I ask, trying to deflect, and he shakes his head before looking out at the city again. Only, the fact that he didn’t answer means he is. I want to put my hands on his shoulders and rub that tension away, to tell him it’s nothing and we’ve got this. But, I don’t dare touch him. I don’t trust my hands to not unbutton his collar first and then the rest of him.

  Dom’s troubled expression is out of character. He’s always so sure, always the confident one oozing smiles and charm and able to make even the most boring of Excel charts fascinating. He’s the one who taught me to walk into every room as if the deal is already done, as if I don’t need it, and I’m ready to walk away. That’s what puts you in the power position. And I thought I was ready. Ready to walk into this weekend with that same confidence, making every fantasy I’ve ever dreamed of become a reality. But that troubled look on Dom’s face means I care too much. I can’t make a move. Not right now. Not at the expense of this deal. He’d never forgive me.

  “There’s no possible way you—we—can screw this up,” I say. “Our strategy is perfect. The only reason this deal won’t close is if they’ve been leading us on. And we both know they want this as much as we do.”

  Dom looks at me and the uncertainty in his gaze is unsettling. His shoulders have locked and his hands are clasped into a tight fist.

  “Hey?” I ask. “What are you worried about?”

  He shakes his head. “Nothing.”

  I call him out on his vagueness. “No lies between us. We agreed on that our first deal together. Day one. We’re only as strong as the truth we share.”

  He straightens up and fiddles with the top buttons of his pressed shirt. “Curse the day I said that to you.” He smiles kindly, both of us knowing that pact has only brought us closer and made us a more powerful team. “Tomorrow’s a big deal,” he admits. “Maybe I’m just putting too much pressure on myself.”

  “You’ll be brilliant,” I say, leaning against the railing next to him. “Everyone knows you’re the best man for this job.”

  “Well...” he smiles, deflecting and pretending to take the compliment. “You have to say that. You’re my protégé.”

  “That doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”

  His eyes flick to my mouth and linger. Suddenly, the hot air on my shoulders becomes a sauna slicking hair to my neck. The worried crease in his forehead deepens and I start to wonder if it’s not tomorrow he’s worried about. After all, there’s a whole night for us to get through first.

  “You always close the deal,” I say softly. “You always get what you want.”

  Dom’s eyes skim down the front of my dress and I bite my lip at the dress’ lack of modesty. The thin fabric barely hides my tightened nipples, which should assure him there’s nothing to be nervous about if his hesitation is about me.

  “It was a long flight,” Dom says abruptly, smoothing out his suit and turning toward the suite—a motion tha
t feels like an overcompensating act of politeness. “I just need to sleep.”

  “Of course.” I nod, before changing my tone to one that’s more playful. “Yes, well,” I start. “I get to choose the first bed!” I stalk away from him, making a show of stomping my heels along the shiny patio. I do it to lighten the mood, but when I twist around at the door I have to grab the doorframe. Dom’s gaze is completely disarming. He’s even farther away now, but the light from the suite allows me to see the actual heat in his gaze. His eyes skim my body again and it’s laced with a longing I know all too well, shooting a pulse of heat straight between my legs.

  I’ve imagined a look like this on Dom’s face before, but it’s nothing like the real thing. My heart races and all of my skin tightens, because your boss isn’t supposed to be looking at you like that. Like tomorrow’s business merger doesn’t matter as much as grabbing my hips and crushing the air out from between us.

  I squeeze my legs together and try to shallow my breath.

  Business first.

  Acting on this will be sweeter after the deal is signed. Dom’s passion will only heighten when he’s in victory mode and all our hard work can be truly celebrated.

  “Goodnight, Dominick,” I say quietly, inching backwards and hoping I don’t trip over the carpet with my bone-less legs.

  “Goodnight, Ilsa,” he says back, and he’s too far away for our traditional awkward hug, for which I’m thankful. My body is too awake to feel his hands curl around my back and the whisper of his stubble against my neck. I nod and head back into the suite, grabbing my luggage in the hallway before walking into the first bedroom I can find. I don’t bother to compare them.

  The door clicks shut and I force myself to take several deep breaths, leaning my head against the doorframe. We’ve been here a whole—what? Twenty minutes? And I’m already out of my depth. I knew there’d be tension this weekend, but when did my body get so damn strung up?