Good Girls Don't

by Rosalie Lario

  When her cheeks heated, she let out an embarrassed laugh. Funny how she could react with such abandon in the moment, and still blush like a schoolgirl at the memory of a stranger having his way with her.

  Images of the night before bombarded her mind. James feasting on her as if she were a lavish dessert. Carrying her to the bed. Holding her thighs spread wide while he plunged deep into her with a single-minded intensity.

  The memories alone propelled her into hormone overload. Moisture built between her thighs and she squeezed them together with a moan. Trickles of sensation shot through her core, making her even more turned on.

  Funny, she would have thought that having the most mind-blowing sex of her life would have satiated her. If anything, it seemed to have awoken some dormant side she hadn’t known she had. If James had still been there, she would have no doubt attacked him like some wild beast. So maybe it was a good thing he’d snuck out while she was still sleeping. It certainly made things easier that way.

  Even if part of her was deeply disappointed that she’d never get to see him again, or experience the glory of his animalistic lovemaking.

  It wasn’t lovemaking, Lyssa. You should be clear on that.

  It had been rough, wild, no-strings-attached sex. And while she should be ashamed of that, she couldn’t bring herself to be. At least she’d gotten to experience it once in her life.

  The shrill ring of the telephone on the nightstand blasted her from her musings. She rolled over and lifted the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Good morning, Ms. Rivera,” said the smooth, calm voice of a woman. “This is your wake up call, as requested.”

  For the first time, her gaze moved to the clock beside the phone. It was already seven thirty in the morning, which meant her meeting was in an hour and a half.

  Shit.

  The wake up call was supposed to be a reminder to get her ass in gear. She’d actually planned on waking up an hour earlier to practice her speech some more. In all the excitement of last night, she’d somehow forgotten to set her phone alarm.

  Big surprise there.

  The only thing on her mind last night had been the amazing feel of James’s hard body plunging into her over and over again.

  “Thank you,” she said into the phone and then hung up to spring from the bed. The twinge between her thighs made her immediately regret moving so quickly.

  Jeez…what an impression it’ll make if I limp into my meeting this morning.

  Her cheeks grew warm again. For someone who’d engaged in some seriously wicked activity last night, she sure felt an awful amount of shyness about it.

  She turned and strode to the window, flipping open the heavy drapes. Then, after a brief pause, she gave in to her impulse to scan the room. When it revealed no card or scrap of paper, she shook her head.

  Had she really expected that James would leave his number?

  Maybe not, but apparently some part of her had hoped he would.

  Stop it. She headed into the bathroom and turned on the shower, letting it heat for a moment before stepping under the spray.

  Lyssa had known what last night was about. She had accepted it. In fact, she had been the one who’d initiated it by inviting him back to her room. She couldn’t cry foul now because he behaved as she’d expected him to.

  I had a one-night stand.

  Part of her couldn’t believe it even now. To do something so impulsive was totally against her character.

  Nadia’s going to flip out.

  Though her best friend would be in shock, Lyssa knew she wouldn’t judge her actions. In fact, knowing Nadia, she’d probably be proud of Lyssa for acting in the heat of the moment. For daring to live a little.

  No matter what happened from here on out, she’d always have the memories of this one crazy encounter to keep her warm at night.

  And if part of her wished things had been different, that she could see James again, well, she’d just have to ignore that part. What was done was done. James was gone, and in a city this size, odds were she’d never see him again.

  ***

  At precisely nine o’clock in the morning, Lyssa found herself standing inside Martin Freeman’s office located at Fifty-Fifth and Madison. The billionaire was a venture capitalist with a passion for investing in New York based companies. That he’d chosen Lyssa’s two-man digital marketing firm as one of his prospects was nothing short of miraculous. She would have thought her firm to be small potatoes for someone of his stature, but he prided himself on picking investments based on gut instinct and predictions of future success, not on current revenues.

  The problem was that Martin Freeman was known for being as eccentric as he was business savvy. Now that he was older and his bank account well into the billions, he insisted on focusing all his attention on one company at a time. Which meant if he didn’t choose her after this presentation, she would be stuck either searching out another investor or waiting for a chance to work with him again.

  That wouldn’t do. Thanks to some admittedly brilliant marketing campaigns on her part, she’d gained some notoriety throughout the community over the past year. But she’d reached the capacity of what she could accomplish with only Nadia as an employee. She desperately needed funds to branch out, to take on new help, and she needed them quickly.

  Her mother’s medical bills were sky high and still mounting.

  An older, impeccably groomed woman in a navy business suit stepped through the double doors leading into Martin Freeman’s private office. She nodded briefly at the receptionist before approaching Lyssa. Her mouth curved into a welcoming smile.

  “You must be Lyssa Rivera. I’m Rebecca Andrews, Martin’s assistant. We’ve spoken on the phone.”

  Lyssa pasted a smile to her face and rose to shake the woman’s hand. Her stomach flipped and flopped as if she were riding a Tilt-A-Whirl, but she swallowed hard and did her best to ignore it. It was perfectly natural to be nervous, given how much rode on the meeting. But she didn’t need to be nervous. She was prepared, both mentally and physically. Her presentation was memorized, her hair schooled into a tidy bun at the base of her neck, and she wore her best suit—a black blazer and pencil skirt combo that screamed class and confidence.

  You’re ready. You’ve been ready. Don’t freak out.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Andrews. I’m looking forward to discussing with Mr. Freeman how we could establish a mutually beneficial business relationship.”

  The woman gave Lyssa an engaging smile. “Call me Rebecca. Follow me this way, please.”

  She led Lyssa through a set of double doors that fed into a long corridor. Walking briskly down the hallway, she said, “As you know, Mr. Freeman has compiled a short list of potential investees. He’ll be meeting with each of the three of you to hear your proposals for your company, whereupon he’ll make his final decision.”

  Lyssa nodded. Rebecca had explained Martin’s process to her over the phone, so this wasn’t anything unexpected. “When will he be meeting with the other prospects?”

  Rebecca came to a stop in front of another set of double doors. She turned to Lyssa, and although her demeanor didn’t change, something in her eyes told Lyssa she wasn’t going to like what she heard next.

  “Actually,” Rebecca said in that same pleasant voice, “Mr. Freeman feels it best to interview all three of you at once.”

  Lyssa stiffened, the smile wiping from her face. “At…at once?”

  A glimmer of something—pity, maybe—shone in Rebecca’s eyes. “Yes, you’ll all be together when you present your proposals.”

  What she didn’t say was far too obvious to Lyssa’s mind. It was a test. Put all three of them in the same room, force them to iterate in front of the others why they were the best investment choice, and see how each of them responded.

  If Martin Freeman’s goal was to knock her off balance, then he’d succeeded. But she wasn’t going to let it deter her. She couldn’t. Too much was at stake.

&nb
sp; Forcing the polite smile back to her face, Lyssa said, “That sounds lovely. Thank you, Rebecca.”

  Maybe it was her imagination, but she could have sworn there was a hint of approval in Rebecca’s gaze. She turned and swung the door open, leaving Lyssa to follow her inside. Lyssa took a breath to calm her racing heart, and stepped inside.

  She was now in a conference room that held a rectangular wooden table and eight black chairs. An older man with a thick head of salt and pepper hair paced back and forth in front of a large window that showcased the cityscape. He turned at the sound of the door opening, a wide smile plastered to his face. When he saw who it was, however, he immediately lost the fake smile.

  “Lyssa, I’d like to introduce you to Steve Peterson,” Rebecca said, stepping toward the man. “He’s the owner of Peterson Development. Mr. Peterson, this is Lyssa Rivera of North Star Digital.”

  Ah, so this was one of her competitors. Lyssa recognized the name of his company from her dealings with other real estate developers. Peterson Development was a newer but rapidly growing company that specialized in building smaller-scale office buildings in Brooklyn and the Bronx.

  She breathed a sigh of relief. Though Peterson Development was considerably larger than her own firm, it wasn’t so far off that the idea of competition between the two was laughable.

  Lyssa stepped forward to shake the man’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Peterson.”

  “Ms. Rivera.” He gave her a measuring glance. “North Star? You market for local real estate companies, correct?”

  “Mostly. We also have a few retailer accounts in the area.”

  The corners of his mouth rose upward and he released her hand. She could practically see the wheels spinning in his head. He was weighing her level of threat as his competition.

  “It’s a pleasure.” With those words, he turned back to the window, effectively dismissing her.

  The old, familiar weight of anger burned in Lyssa’s chest. How many times since she’d opened her firm had others dismissed her in that same callous manner?

  She forcibly pushed the anger aside. If Steve Peterson wanted to underestimate her, let him. That would only help her in the long run.

  When she turned and strode to the table, confidently claiming a seat at one of the ends, Rebecca’s mouth tipped up into a smile. So quickly that Lyssa wondered if she’d imagined it, Rebecca gave her a wink. “The third member of your party should be here shortly, as should Mr. Freeman.”

  With those words, she left the room.

  The minutes ticked by slowly. Steve Peterson paced the room the entire time, his mouth moving as if he were practicing his speech. Just looking at him made her nervous, so she purposely diverted her gaze and took a deep breath.

  Going over her speech one more time wasn’t going to do anything at this point. She already knew it all. Now was the time to clear her head, so she concentrated on her breathing techniques until her heart rate slowed back to normal tempo. Hopefully, it wouldn’t go crazy again once Martin Freeman arrived.

  She lost track of how much time passed before the door to the conference room swung open once more. An elderly man strode inside. Even though he walked the slower pace of a man in his late seventies, he was bursting with assurance. There was no doubt that this was Martin Freeman.

  Lyssa shot to her feet as his gaze moved from her to Steve and then back. An easy smile formed on his lips. “Good morning Ms. Rivera, Mr. Peterson, I’m Martin Freeman.”

  Even though she knew now would be the time to get nervous, something about the older man immediately put Lyssa at ease. Her smile was genuine as she crossed the room, reaching him just seconds before Steve, who’d practically raced over to him.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Freeman.” She held out her hand, and he gave it a warm shake.

  “Likewise.” He turned to shake Steve’s hand before saying to them both, “Please, call me Martin. I hope we can all be on a first name basis here.”

  When she murmured her agreement, he glanced at his wristwatch and said, “I had hoped our third party would be here by now, but since he isn’t, we’ll just have to commence without him.”

  Maybe the third person wouldn’t show. If only she could be so lucky.

  Martin shot them a charming smile and motioned toward the table. “Shall we?”

  She headed back to her chair, but only made it about halfway there before the door squeaked open behind her. Before she could turn toward the sound, the smooth, deep voice of a man said, “My apologies on my tardiness. I hope I’m not too late, Martin.”

  Shock rooted Lyssa to the floor. The panic that she’d initially feared finally materialized. Because that voice…it sounded awfully familiar.

  “Certainly not,” Martin said, his tone congenial. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

  “You as well,” the man agreed.

  “Lyssa, Steve,” Martin said. “I’d like to introduce you to the third member of our party, James Everly of Everly Publications.”

  Swallowing hard to rein in the rising tide of nausea within her, Lyssa forced herself to turn around.

  Her shell-shocked gaze locked on the familiar blue eyes of the man who’d snuck out of her bed sometime between last night and this morning.

  Chapter Four

  Lyssa was going to be sick. She felt like she might literally hurl the meager contents of her breakfast onto the thick, plush carpeting.

  James, for his part, didn’t look much better than she felt. His eyes went wide when he saw her, and his back was ramrod straight as Martin made the introductions to her and Steve.

  When James spoke, however, all he said was, “Pleasure to meet you both.”

  He strode woodenly forward to clasp her hand in his. For lack of a better response, she stood there like a mute. His bright gaze bored into hers, as if trying to communicate something, but then he let go of her hand and moved toward Steve.

  Freed from the power of his attention, she drank in the sight of him. She had to admit, part of her had wondered that morning whether he would look as good by the light of day, without the assistance of any alcohol, as he had the night before. After all, she’d already had a few by the time he’d sat down beside her.

  Now she knew. He looked better.

  Gone were the sweater and slacks from yesterday. In their place was a crisp, expensive-looking suit in a deep midnight hue. Beneath that, he wore a starched white shirt and a light-blue silk tie. He looked sure and commanding and utterly breathtaking.

  How could he even be here right now? What was happening?

  “James Everly,” Steve said as he shook James’s hand. “Wouldn’t have thought your company would be seeking investors.”

  The intimidated note in Steve’s voice finally broke her from her stunned daze. That was when it hit her. James—the man she’d slept with last night—was James Everly of Everly Publications, and he was the third competitor.

  Her mouth dropped open as she looked on in a stupor.

  The man she had hooked up with was not only part owner of one of the largest magazine publishers in the nation, but he was competing with her for funds.

  How could this have happened?

  She thought back to last night, to what he’d said when she’d asked what he did for a living.

  “So you’re a publisher, huh?”

  If he noticed the caustic tone of her voice he didn’t let on. His gaze traveled back to her. “Yes, my company owns Distinguished Gentleman.”

  Oh, she knew. It was one of the fastest growing magazines in the nation, and it had been the last thing from her mind when he told her he worked for a publishing company. She’d imagined he was an editor at a small book publisher or something, not part owner of a large corporation.

  “We’re on the verge of expanding into foreign markets,” James added, flicking his gaze back to Steve in apparent response to the man’s previous comment.

  Lyssa couldn’t believe she and James had managed to
meet on the eve of their proposal to the venture capitalist that could provide the funds they needed. The likelihood of such a thing happening, much less in a city the size of New York, was so infinitesimally miniscule that it was nothing short of miraculous.

  More like disastrous. Because, as she now realized, it meant that she was going head-to-head with a veritable monster of a company whose yearly profits would make hers seem like pocket change.

  To top it off, he’d seen her naked, blowing any possibility of her maintaining her confidence when she presented in front of him.

  I don’t stand a chance.

  Her heart fell at that stark realization.

  Then she remembered. Her mother, and all the reasons why she couldn’t fail.

  No. Her loss wasn’t a foregone conclusion just because James had an edge over her. An admittedly large edge. She’d been head-to-head with more than her fair share of intimidating business owners, yet she’d managed to grow her marketing firm by leaps and bounds in the three years she’d been in business.

  She could do this. She had to.

  “Well, should we get started?” Martin said, motioning toward the conference table.

  Infusing a layer of steel into her spine, Lyssa turned and headed back to her spot at one end of the table. Martin took the other end, while James sat to her right and Steve to her left. She purposely kept her gaze off the right side of the room. Maybe if she didn’t look at James she could pretend he wasn’t here.

  Yeah, right.

  James’s presence washed over her like a tidal wave of heat. Delicious, pheromone-loaded heat.

  Not that she noticed.

  “Lyssa, why don’t you start us off?” Martin nodded at the podium and projector screen set up behind Steve. A computer rested on the podium.

  Great. She got to go first.

  Well, at least she’d be the first one to get it over with.

  Grasping on to that nugget of optimism, she fished her flash drive out of her briefcase and plugged it into the computer, pulling up the PowerPoint presentation she’d spent two laborious weeks on. She took a deep breath, and lifted her chin.