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  I sit up a little straighter. “You’ve been with a lot of women, Granddad.”

  “I grieved for your grandmother for many years, Alec. But I knew she didn’t want me to spend the rest of my life alone. It was many, many years after she was gone that I started dating again.”

  “Yeah, I guess I never really thought about that.”

  “You have a lot of me in you, whether you believe that or not. So does Tate. Look how happy he and Summer are. They’re in it for the long haul. You’ll see.”

  “They do seem happy.” A sound catches in my throat. “And Megan did say I remind her a lot of you. She said we have the same mannerisms.”

  Granddad leans forward. “You don’t think you can be loyal?”

  “Not really.”

  “Let me ask you this. Have you slept with Sara?” I groan. In no way do I want to talk about my sex life with my ninety-year-old grandfather. “Answer me, son.”

  “No, I didn’t sleep with Sara. She tried to get me into bed, but I pushed her away.”

  His brows arch. “Even though she was your fiancée, you pushed her away.”

  “Yeah.”

  Cloudy blue eyes lock on mine. “Why do you think that is?”

  I shake my head. “I just...it didn’t feel right.”

  “Why didn’t it feel right?” he asks, and I wish he’d stop pushing.

  “Granddad—”

  “Answer the question, Alec.”

  I briefly shut my eyes and take a deep breath. “Because I’m in love with Megan, and being with someone else felt wrong.”

  “And there you have it,” he says, and leans back in his chair, a smirk on his face.

  I mull that over for a moment. I couldn’t sleep with Sara, not after I’d had Megan in my bed. In fact, I made the decision to have a celibate marriage, because it felt wrong...disloyal to Megan.

  Holy shit.

  “Granddad...what have I done?”

  “Nothing you can’t fix.”

  I shake my head. “You’re so wrong about that. Megan must hate me. Did you see the tabloids, see what they’re saying about her and her business? Jesus, no one will ever hire her again. She has every right to hate me.”

  “Yeah, you were quite the dense ass,” he says.

  I scoff. “Why don’t you tell me what you really think?”

  “All right I will.” He waves his hand toward the door. “Get up off the sofa, get out there and go fight for the woman you love.”

  “How?”

  “You’re a smart man, most times,” he says with a grin. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

  I jump from the sofa, my heart and mind racing a million miles an hour. I need to make this right. I need to show Megan what she means to me. As an idea forms, I glance at Granddad. “I’m going to need your help.”

  “I thought you might say that.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Megan

  “I CAN’T BELIEVE I let you talk me into this,” I say to Amanda and give a slow shake of my head.

  “When someone offers you a free vacation, you don’t turn it down,” she counters.

  I glance out the window, take in the beautiful mountains, with their snow-peaked caps. The last time I was here, in St. Moritz, it was after prom, when I seduced Alec. I never, ever thought I’d find myself back in the place that holds so many glorious, yet painful memories. But James called me a few days after I ruined Alec and Sara’s farce wedding, offering me use of his private jet and his villa here in the Alps. I flat out refused. But Amanda begged and pleaded with me, which is a little uncharacteristic of her. In the end I caved. Her business went down with mine last week. This is the least I could do to make it up to her.

  The cab driver whistles from the front seat, and I fold my hands on my lap, my heart still raked raw from Alec’s rejection. But I don’t want to think about him. This vacation is about getting him out of my mind and heart once and for all.

  “I did a bit of research on this place,” Amanda says. “Before we go to the villa can we go to Lej da Staz?” She blinks hopeful eyes at me.

  I shrug. “Fine by me.” I remember that lake. It has a long boardwalk out over the water, with the mountains as the backdrop. It’s a beautiful spot. A perfect wedding venue, one I would have picked over a country club. But now, well, now I no longer believe in true love and happily-ever-after. I might as well start collecting cats.

  Amanda leans forward and talks to the driver as I check my phone. No messages, no brides calling to book their future weddings. And why would they? They probably think I’m going to try to steal their grooms. I groan low in my throat and rest my head against the back of the seat.

  A short while later the cab stops, and I’m grateful. After the long flight, I need to stretch my legs. I’m about to get out of the backseat, but out on the boardwalk there appears to be a wedding. My heart climbs into my throat and tears threaten as painful memories from last week bombard me.

  “We should go,” I say to Amanda. “Looks like a wedding and I don’t want to disturb them.”

  “Let’s just stretch our legs. We’ll be quiet.” She opens her door and jumps from the cab. Unsure about this, I quietly open mine and slide out.

  I shade the sun from my eyes and kick out my cramped legs. I glance around and see numerous tents set up. Under one, food is being laid out for the reception and it smells divine. In the distance I glance at the guests milling about, and note the soft blue colors and decorations.

  “Come on, let’s get a closer look.”

  “I think I’ve crashed enough weddings this week,” I say, but Amanda, being a little pushy and persistent, grabs my arm and practically drags me along. As I get close, I slow my steps.

  “Is that Uncle Dave?” I ask, my head rearing back in surprise. The sun is in my eyes, and I haven’t slept for a week, so there is a good chance I’m hallucinating.

  “You tell me,” Amanda says, her voice a little amused.

  I scan the crowd, and when I see my family and friends, my heart leaps. “What’s going on?” I ask, but when I turn to Amanda, she’s backing away. “What are you doing? Amanda, what the hell?”

  “It’s the grand gesture,” she says. “The way it was meant to be.”

  I turn back to the wharf and when I see Alec coming toward me, dressed casually in a white shirt, beige pants and barefoot, tears sting my eyes. “Alec...” I choke out. “What’s...going on?”

  He steps up to me, takes my shaky hands into his. “What’s going on is that I was a complete idiot. But I plan to fix that.”

  “What...what are you doing?” I ask when he pulls a box from his pocket.

  “Megan, I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

  Tears fall down my face. “You said never me, Alec. You looked me in the eye and said never me.”

  “Haven’t we already established that I’m an idiot,” he says. I nod, in agreement, and he laughs softly. “Megan, I’ve wanted you my whole life, but I never thought I could be loyal. The men in my family, well, you know all about them. I thought I was no different. Even my mother...” He swallows. “You’re the woman I want.”

  “Alec,” I say again, my brain trying to process.

  “You were right when you said I was like my grandfather. He was loyal to Grandmother, and I am loyal to you. I know that because Sara seduced me and I couldn’t touch her. Couldn’t be disloyal to my love for you.”

  “You...love me?”

  He laughs and goes down on his knees. “I love you, Megan. I want you to be my wife. Please say yes.”

  I look past his shoulders, take in all my family and friends, watching us. Amanda is nervously shifting from one foot to the other. I guess now I know why she was so adamant that we come here. “You did this? You set this up?” I choke out, returning my gaze to Alec.

  �
�When we were teenagers, you described your perfect wedding to me. Do you remember that?”

  “I do,” I say. “I can’t believe you remember, though.”

  “I remember everything, Megan. I remember every detail, right down to the casual way you wanted the groom to dress.” He goes quiet for a moment, thoughtful, and I listen to his throat work as he swallows. “I remember the night you came to me in my room after prom. It was the best night of my life.”

  I nod. “Mine, too, until the morning.”

  “I’m sorry. I handled it badly.”

  “No, I understand now. You were trying to protect me.” My heart swells as my throat tightens with all the things I feel for this man. All these years he was trying to protect me from himself, when all he wanted to do was love me.

  He holds the ring out. “I will love you forever if you let me.”

  “I don’t love you like you think,” I say, and his face falls, sadness backlighting his gorgeous blue eyes.

  “Megan—”

  I press my fingers to his lips to quiet him. “You think women love you because of your power and wealth. I don’t love you for that.”

  A relieved smile lights up his face. “So you do love me?”

  “Of course I love you, you big dummy.”

  He laughs and tears fall down my face as he pulls the ring from the case, but I back up.

  “Megan...what?” he asks.

  “I wish I had my dream dress.”

  Once again relief moves into his eyes. “Sara,” he calls out, and she comes forward with the strapless gown I tried on and fell in love with at the bridal boutique.

  I give a big hiccupping sob. “Alec, I can’t believe...”

  “Marry me, Megan. Make me the happiest man on the planet.”

  “Yes,” I say, and he slips the beautiful ring on my finger. A moment later he stands, and turns to the crowd.

  “Whew,” he says, wiping his brow. “It was touch and go there for a while but she said yes.”

  As everyone claps, he picks me up and spins me around. “I love you, Megs. I promise to be the best husband in the world.”

  “I love you, too,” I say as he puts his mouth on mine for a deep, intimate kiss full of love and promises.

  “Okay, let’s get this show on the road,” I say, as he laughs and pulls me to him, renewing my belief in true love and happily-ever-after.

  * * *

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  CHAPTER ONE

  I LOVE MY line of work. People bitch and moan about their careers but not me.

  Clients task me with a job and I get it done. I don’t run an empire. I don’t employ anyone full-time. I only have myself to watch out for and that’s the way I like it.

  This job earned my family back a shred of their respect a decade ago and I’ve been dishing the dirt on corrupt arseholes, playboys and spoilt little rich girls ever since.

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  Only this kind of dirt I cannot dish.

  It crosses a line that even my skewed moral compass cannot abide.

  ‘Come on, Ash, what gives?’

  I raise my eyes from my untouched pint to see Jackson grinning at me from the other side of the bar. ‘Where’d you come from?’

  ‘We’re short-staffed tonight. I’m helping out.’

  ‘A bit beneath you, wouldn’t you say?’

  ‘Nah, I kind of enjoy it.’

  He scans the darkened corners of the room, the various people making out, and barely raises a brow. And why would he? This is his life day in, day out. This is his club—Blacks—complete with sex on tap, catering to the British elite. The upper crust. A circle to which I once wholeheartedly belonged and now wouldn’t piss on if it were on fire.

  These people have money. Enough to pay for the exclusive membership and the non-disclosure agreement that comes with it. Anything goes within these walls—within reason—and no one on the outside is any the wiser. Including my client. But the presence of my target—her—tells me there’s more to Coco Lauren than what the world sees. What the press witnesses. And that’s what I need to tap into, to expose, if I’m to get what I need and deliver what my client demands.

  ‘Jesus, you need something stronger than a pint, judging by the look of you.’

  I barely acknowledge his observation. Truth is, what I need is something that gets her to step out of line, outside of this safe haven where I can’t say anything without compromising my friend’s business.

  He backs up and snatches a bottle from the side with two shot glasses, smacking them down between us. ‘You never come here, so I repeat: What gives?’

  The truth will only piss him off, and I’m not about to lie, so I stay quiet and his eyes narrow, his powerhouse of a frame turning rigid. If he wasn’t my oldest friend I’d think he was about to punch me.

  ‘You’d better not be here on the clock...’

  ‘Hey, easy.’ I raise my palms. I knew he’d be suspicious, and he has every right to be—because he’s right. I never come in here. ‘The twisted secrets of this place are safe with me.’

  He continues to study me and I know he’s warring with what he knows of my work and what he knows of me. I know he doesn’t like how I earn a living; we agree to disagree. As far as I’m concerned, these people deserve what they get.

  Just like the princess teasing me with her long bare legs, cute little arse and a face that’s bordered by a blonde low-swinging bob. She projects such innocence to the outside world, but not now, not in h
ere.

  As if on cue she stands and bends over the table to whisper in the ear of her female companion. I clock the feline curve of her body, the gentle swell of her hips, the delicate arch to her back, and then her friend turns and they kiss. Not just a peck. A deep, tongue-sinking kiss that has a spasm of heat ripping through me.

  I straighten against it. Fuck.

  I’ve seen her dressed for swanky lunch dates, the gym, charity galas and shopping sprees, and now I get to see her half-naked, with an intent that screams one thing: sex.

  And in surroundings such as these, with soft lighting, plush grey sofas and the perfect balance of glass and warm wood, she’s lending a sophisticated charm that you could lose yourself in. It’s only the debauched goings-on here that make it more than just a hip wine bar, and she’s smack-bang in the middle of it. Adding to it.

  I don’t want to see the appeal. The allure. The legs that go on for ever. And that kiss that sears the air, my skin, my blood.

  ‘Ah, now I see...’

  Jackson’s enlightened murmur snaps me out of it. I pull my gaze back to my pint, chug back a gulp.

  ‘It’s a woman that brings you my way—now it makes sense. It’s about time.’

  I almost choke on the bitter drink. ‘Hardly.’ He’s close, and yet so far off the mark. ‘I can’t say I care for your choice of clientele.’

  He laughs. ‘You don’t need to care—not for sex. You ought to try it some time...a bit of no-strings fun. Celibacy doesn’t suit you.’

  ‘Really?’ My brow lifts. Never mind him punching me, I’m going to swing for him across the bar, to hell with the doormen flanking the place.

  He laughs harder as he pours clear liquid into both shot glasses and slides one across to me. ‘Your mistake was letting one get under your skin.’

  ‘One?’

  ‘You know who I mean—Jess.’

  I throw back the shot and wince. The harsh hit douses the burn of her—my ex, the woman who left the second my family lost it all. ‘Yeah, well, I’d take a woman out of my local over one from here any day.’