The man got a perplexed look on his face. “What? Are you two dykes or what?”

Angel bit her lip, trying to keep the hysterical laughter at bay while Becca huffed in response, looking over the man in disgust, taking in the thickness of his legs, body, and especially the neck. Dude, we don’t like men whose neck circumference exceeds that of their skull, she thought and wished she could say it aloud.

“Uh… no!” Becca’s blue eyes flashed to Angel and then back again. “Apparently, she has a new aversion to meat. If she’s not up for filet mignon, she’s not interested in ground round.”

By now, Angel was shoving Becca back toward the cardio room again, both of them laughing uncontrollably.

“Shut up, Becca! Oh, my God!”

The man stood entranced, watching them move away from him. “Huh?”

Another fit of laugher shook Angel’s shoulders, and she wiped at the tears leaking from her eyes.

“Exactly!” Becca quipped to him over her shoulder as they disappeared through the locker room doors. “I know steroids shrink their balls, but I guess the brain goes, too.”

“Stop, Becca. My sides hurt!” Angel threw out, and it was Becca’s turn to laugh. “Is it just their balls?”

“No… you know teeny peens never were my fave! I mean, seriously, all that muscle except where it counts. Dumb asses.”

“How much, um, research have you done on the subject?”

“Enough! And Angel, you need to research that sexy voice.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Running or stair-stepper today?”

“Running. Three miles at intervals. Start with a jog.”

Angel pushed the start button on the machine and began a slow jog while Becca joined her on the treadmill next to hers. “You could use a good bone. Maybe Mr. Velvet Voice can throw you one. Just sayin’, Angel.”

Angel smiled again. “You’re the one who won’t let go of the bone. You’re like a rabid dog. Why don’t you concentrate on getting yourself a good man, and let me worry about me? Let’s run. Maybe if you’re out of breath, you can get off my ass about this guy. Do you want to meet him? I’ll ask Darian to set you up.”

“He called you. You can’t tell me that doesn’t make your panties at least a little bit damp. What are you afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid, but I’m not an idiot. Men like him are dangerous to women in general. I’m not looking for a relationship, but if I were, he’d be the last type of man I’d want. He’s too detached. You heard him. He needed sex and having a monogamous relationship was a convenient way to get it. Call me crazy, but if you’re only fucking for a fling, okay. But I already have someone for that. I don’t need to complicate my life with someone like him.”

“Oh, yes. How is Kenny?” Becca crinkled her nose in distaste, took a big swig from her water bottle, and then wiped the moisture from her mouth with the back of her hand. “He’s just so… bleh.”

Angel shook her head. “He’s a nice guy.”

Kenneth Gant was a lawyer that Angel met when she first starting working as guardian ad litem for the Cook County Circuit Court. He’d taken a strong interest in her from the first time they’d met. Angel dated him for a while, but now it was mainly a sexual relationship once or twice a month. Even that was getting too much. Her rule—sex with no strings for short-term only—was sorely stretched on this one. Funny though, he was the one with feelings, not her.

Angel sighed. When she thought about it, it was about scratching an occasional itch. Maybe it wasn’t so different from Alex’s situation, except he treated the girl like they were in a relationship, so the boundaries got blurred. With Ken, she was honest and told him, in no uncertain terms, that they had no future together. Kyle had hurt her badly when he cheated on her with one of the band’s groupies, and she wasn’t about to open her heart like that again. No man was going to control her, or her life, or her emotions ever again. It wasn’t worth it to her.

“Nice is girl code for bleh,” Becca pointed out with a cringe, and Angel shrugged.

“He’s been good to me. I’m not seeing him that much anymore, anyway. I felt like I was leading him on. I know he wants more and I don’t.”

“No shit? Probably the bleh factor kicking in,” Becca deadpanned. “He’s not bad looking, but his personality—not so much.”

“He’s not that bad. He’s sweet.” Angel shook her head and chuckled.

“Yeah? There you go with more code-speak again. Translation? Boring. You need to get out more, Angel.” Becca shook her head knowingly. She was well aware that Angel was not into this lawyer at all. “When you start using adjectives like amazing, fuckhawt or magic peen, then I’ll know your vag is at attention.”

“Magic peen is an adjective and a noun,” Angel pointed out with a smirk.

“Yeah, well, I think you get my point.”

* * *

Alex paced back and forth in front of his desk, impatient for Cole to call him back. It was Saturday and the office was empty, most of the lights were off, and it was eerily silent. Avery Enterprises had three entire floors of the John Hancock Center, and Alex’s office was on the Southeast corner of the top floor. Of course, it was the best view of the city and the waterfront, and it was more like a small apartment, with luxurious furniture and a full private bathroom, sitting room, and closet. The sofa was oversized and Alex had found himself asleep on it many times while working late on an acquisition deal or schematics for a new hotel.

Ever since that damn phone call last night, his thoughts were consumed with the incomplete glimpses he’d seen of the mysterious woman named Angel Hemming. He didn’t have her face, but he had her words. Just that sultry voice intrigued him more than he was willing to admit, and he was compelled to know more about her. Words were the only thing between them, yet he’d been more aroused than if she’d grabbed his cock and begged him to fuck her.

He huffed in disbelief at his own weakness as his mind darted to the picture Darian had sent and the mystery surrounding the woman attached to it. She was intelligent and seemed to understand how a man’s mind worked. Which, in and of itself, was a huge turn-on and something he hadn’t come across before. Topped off by that damn snarky, teasing banter, and he was captivated. Alex wanted to know more. Much more.

He hadn’t slept much and dawn was breaking over the horizon, shining into his penthouse. As coffee brewed in the kitchen, Alex was already in his personal gym. He spent an hour rowing and running until he’d exhausted himself; the sweat casting a thin sheen on the skin of his muscular chest and arms and running lightly down his face. His original plan had been to drive out to his house and pick up his dog, Max, before going to his parents’ acreage on the north side of the city. Instead, he found himself in front of his computer Googling Angeline Hemming.

He shook his head in utter astonishment. Alex fucking Avery Googling a woman? Pathetic. The worst part was, he found almost nothing. A nod to her chairing some women’s empowerment organization, and small mentions about her in articles surrounding a couple of the highest profile abuse cases that Chicago had seen in the two years since she’d gotten her PhD. The nature of her work kept the details quiet as most of the case files were sealed, but it was apparent that she was well respected and sought after. Alex was impressed. She was professional and she had ethics. The only other thing he found was a press release issued about the new radio show being a platform for her charity work. Nothing personal. Not one damn thing. And what burned Alex’s ass more than anything was that there wasn’t a single picture to ease his burning curiosity.

He moved across the room, raking both hands through his thick hair, and stopped in front of the windows. It was a clear day and the water of Lake Michigan sparkled in the sunlight, contrasting its dark hues against the light blue, spring sky.

“Fucking hell,” Alex muttered to himself. He felt irritated that his thoughts were consumed by a woman he’d never met, and he was angry at Darian for taunting him. He shook his head in disgust. He hadn’t even seen her face. Stupidly, I fell for the goddamned bait!

It had only been minutes, yet seemed like hours when his brother finally called back.

“Cole, what the hell took you so long?” Alex admonished sharply. He was younger than Cole by two years, but of the three Avery children, Alex was, by far, the most responsible. Cole worked because his father and brother forced the issue, but if he had his preference, he’d be laying on a beach in the Bahamas or Bali instead.

“I’m not home. Otherwise engaged, dude.”

Alex grimaced at the slang term. Ugh.

“Uh, can’t say I give a shit what your state of engagement is, Cole. What’s the name of that investigator? The one that Dad has on retainer?”

“Whoa. The CFO doesn’t remember the name of the investigator?” Cole teased lightheartedly. While Alex was serious and focused, Cole could make any situation into a joke. “I mean, if I was in charge of all the money, I sure as shit would know who the head of security was.”

Alex sighed and ran his hand impatiently through his hair again, his fingers stopping to yank on the strands. “Cole, if you want to be in charge of the cash, I suggest you take it up with Dad. For now, can you help me out?” His voice was flat and resigned, like a parent dealing with a disobedient child.

They shared brotherly love, but there was a decided competition between the two. Cole held a degree of resentment toward Alex because he was technically his boss. Their parents, especially their father, Charles, didn’t trust Cole’s slacker nature. It was always Alex who stepped in to clean up the mess, and it didn’t go unnoticed. He was the model child; always excelling, always doing what was expected and more.

“Bro, forget work. Let’s go to the Cubs game this afternoon. Get Darian and Dad, and I’ll call Josh, too,” Cole rattled on. His complete lack of focus made Alex’s mouth tighten in annoyance.

Joshua Franklin was their sister Allison’s husband. Ally met Josh on a spring break trip to Cabo San Lucas six years earlier. His family was from a small town in Oklahoma, and though he wasn’t wealthy, Allison loved his gentle charm and easygoing nature. Charles hadn’t accepted him easily; at first thinking no one was good enough for his youngest child and only daughter. But with fortitude and grace, Josh eventually won him over. Josh refused to take a job within the company, preferring to be self-sufficient and started a small insurance agency. Alex ensured Josh’s success by running all of the corporation’s insurance policies through the Franklin agency. The Avery account and the connections with the family soon had his agency well networked and extremely lucrative.

“Can you please just give me the. God. Damn. Name?” Alex enunciated every word.

“What’s got your shorts in a wad up your ass? Jesus, Alex, you need to lighten up. Have some fun for Christ’s sake.”

“Someone’s got to earn the money, and between the two of us, we know who jacks off. If you want me to go to the game and front the beer, stop pissing with me and tell me what I want to know. I can get my business done while you call the rest of your little playmates.”

Cole laughed softly in response. “Fuck you.”

“Maybe later, dickhead. The name?” Alex wasn’t laughing, but he was grinning from ear to ear, and the amusement in his voice told Cole he was joking around.

Alex heard some rustling on the other end of the phone. “Fine. I have to look in my contacts. Hold on.”

Alex went to his mahogany desk and sat down in the large leather chair, waiting. He put his phone on speaker and set it on the desk.

“Uh, Bancroft. Jason Bancroft.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Okay, get tickets and text me with the game time. I’m taking Max to the folks, so I’ll grab Dad and meet you there.” Alex was already looking up the phone number for the Bancroft agency online.

“Sure. Alex, what’s this about?”

“Probably nothing. I’m curious about something, and I can’t find much on the net. I’ll tell you about it later but not in front of Dad.”

“You can get anything online, but it takes time. You need to get some patience.”

“I’d rather just have it done. Besides, I don’t have time to fuck around on the internet.”

“If you’re keeping it from Dad, it isn’t about the company. And the plot thickens.”