Ever since that first moment in the club, he had become intensely fascinated by her. Add tequila in with that exchange, and he had been hooked. He had even gone back several nights after that, always looking for her but never finding her. Imagine his delight when Josh had invited him to Mason’s Halloween party, and he’d walked in to see her dressed like some kind of ninja. And again, she had run from him.

Well, not anymore. The time for running was over—unless, of course, she was running straight to his bed. The only way he thought he could remove this fixation with her was to satiate his curiosity.

As the elevator came to a stop on his floor, it made the usual loud ding. He made his way out and turned left, passing by the closed doors of his unknown neighbors and several mass-produced floral prints on the walls of the cream-colored hallway. When he reached his corner condo, Cole pulled out his keys from his pocket, unlocked the door, and pushed it open.

Stepping into the small foyer, he dumped the keys on the wooden table at the entryway. He shrugged out of his coat and black suit jacket and then hung them both on the six-foot cherry wood coatrack situated in the opposite corner.

Rolling his shoulders, he stretched his neck from side to side, trying to ease some of the tension knotted up between his shoulder blades and the top of his spine. Making his way across dark hardwood floors into his kitchen, he opened a cabinet and grabbed one of his crystal tumblers. He reached up to loosen his tie as he walked over to where he kept his liquor. At the opposite end of the kitchen, he’d had a wine fridge installed on the bottom half of a separate cabinet, and above it was where he kept his old friend, a bottle of twenty-five-year-old Macallan.

Moving over to the sink with the bottle and tumbler, he uncorked the scotch. He turned on the tap, got his fingers wet, and then proceeded to pour himself a single neat before he flicked a couple drops of water into the liquor.

Lifting it to just under his nose, he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. In the complete silence, he thought about the unobtainable for a moment—the one thing he currently desired more than anything, even more than the drink he now had in his hand.

How long has it been since I was so focused on a woman? A damn long time, he thought, moving around the kitchen counter. He walked toward the French doors that opened onto his balcony. The night was dark, and the lake was too, he mused as he stepped outside. He finally brought the glass to his lips and took a slow sip, the fiery liquid warming a path down his throat to his belly. He reached down to where his crisp white shirt was tucked into his black tailored pants and pulled it from its confines. Lifting the glass again, he took another sip as he started to undo the bottom buttons.

How can I find her again? That was the main question that was currently bothering him. He knew he could go down to Exquisite, but he also knew he would have to get past her brother. While the thought of dealing with Josh’s friend Mason didn’t bother him at all, Cole wanted his next meeting with Rachel to be private. He wanted to get her alone, and he wanted it to happen soon.

Downing the rest of the scotch with a deep swallow, Cole walked back inside and placed the empty tumbler on his coffee table. First, he needed to relax. Unbuttoning his shirt, he made his way down the hallway, passing his office and library, through to his bedroom. When he reached the top three buttons, he stopped, pulled the tie over his head, and threw it on the end of his bed.

Opening a drawer in his large bureau, he pulled out his swimwear, and then he grabbed a towel from the linen closet before he headed to the pool upstairs. It was time to decompress. Only then would he be able to really focus and work out a plan—a plan that involved Rachel and himself in a room together, alone.

* * *

Rachel pushed through her apartment door at approximately one in the morning. After kicking it shut behind her, she threw her bag on the floor, toed her black flats off, and walked barefoot down the hall to her kitchen. Opening the small fridge with a yawn, she pulled out the almost empty jug of milk, poured herself a glass, and then threw the container in the trash.

She headed into the living room and flopped down onto her old, comfy leather couch. Unbuttoning her coat, she pulled her feet up under her as she looked around the sparse living space. God, when did my life become so lonely? she thought, moving her head back and forth against the couch.

When her phone rang, she wasn’t surprised. She pulled it out of her coat pocket and then grinned as she looked at the caller ID. Casanova.

“I’m here, and I’m alive. No one mugged me on the way home.”

“You’re home then?”

“Yes, Mase, I’m here, safe and sound.” She sighed before she quickly added, “Thanks for checking on me.”

Her brother chuckled. “I don’t know why I feel the need to check on you. I mean, with your kickboxing moves, you could probably fight off a mugger better than I could.”

Rachel laughed. “Yeah, you’re probably right. See you tomorrow, brother.”

“Night, Rach,” he said before she ended the call.

Placing her phone down beside her, she closed her eyes, trying not to feel sorry for herself. Letting pity and self-doubt creep into her mind was becoming a nasty habit of hers whenever she was alone at night, and that was why she had finally decided to venture out to Whipped several months ago. It was the place where she had unintentionally caught the eye of a man who reminded her of things she’d thought she had buried the day her father had been laid to rest.

Cole. That was the only name she knew him by. To avoid the possibility of being set up, she hadn’t bothered to ask Josh anything else. After the Halloween party, Josh had dropped the case—thank God—and she hadn’t seen or heard from Cole since. That is, until today, nearly two months later, and holy mother of God, did I see him and every last inch of his tall frame.

Just thinking about the uptight, perfectly tailored suit made her palms itch. As her skin started to heat, she found herself sitting up and shrugging out of her coat. Throwing it beside her on the couch, she leaned back and closed her eyes, picturing Cole’s short blond hair, his scorching hazel eyes that were so focused and so intent, and that damn mouth that had licked and sucked that stupid piece of candy. Apparently, it also totally destroyed my brain cells, she thought as she opened her eyes and sat up on the couch.

Standing, she stretched her arms above her head. She removed the elastic from her ponytail and shook her hair out, causing several blue tips to fall over her shoulder. Yeah, I’m sure I’m exactly who his mother wants him to bring home. Then again, I can’t imagine a man like him giving a shit about what anyone thought.

Either way, it didn’t matter. The likelihood of her seeing him again was not very high. Even if they were to run in to one another at the club, they had similar tastes, which meant one thing. They were certainly not compatible for each other. That was exactly the point she had been trying to stress each time they had met. He just wasn’t listening, Rachel thought as she walked into her bedroom.

She pulled down the zipper from the back of her black leather pants and then peeled them off her body. After removing her shirt, she looked herself over in the full-length mirror in the corner of her room.

The blue-and-black demi cup bra had cost her a little over a hundred dollars. When she’d added in the matching strip of blue lace that had been sold as a thong—but looks more like a small piece of string—the cost had jumped to one-fifty.

Placing her hands on her waist as she cocked her left hip, Rachel decided that the money spent had been worth it. If there was one thing she indulged in, it was her lingerie. She loved the feel of lace and silk against her skin. She also loved how the boutique sets made her feel sexy. It was like she had her own little secret under her clothes. Well, it’s one of many.

As her long black hair draped over her shoulders, she could feel the blue tips tickling the upper curve of her breasts. She gazed in appreciation at the new silver navel ring she had bought yesterday. As it winked back at her, she could see the edge of the script writing she had tattooed down her ribs on the right side of her body.

Rachel knew she was outside of the box. She was okay with that; she had people in her life that loved her because of that. Mason, Josh, Wendy, and now Lena and Shelly all loved her just the way she was, but when she was alone in bed late at night, she found that it wasn’t enough anymore.

As she made her way past the small dresser, she looked at the framed photo of her parents who were both gone now, and she felt that same stab of loneliness deep inside her heart. Everyone is moving on. Mason had moved on with Lena, and now, Josh was moving on with Shelly.

Crawling between the covers, Rachel closed her eyes and pictured a tall, blond-haired man sucking on a piece of candy. She almost laughed at the absurdity. God, I really am lonely if I’m dreaming about him. Rolling over, she tried to let go of the heaviness that had recently started to weigh on her heart.

3

Eight o’clock the next morning, Cole stepped off his work elevator and made his way toward Jane’s desk with a smug feeling of victory. I have a plan.

Unbuttoning his coat with one hand while holding his black briefcase in the other, he smiled down at his paralegal as he stopped in front of her desk. Jane had been working for him for six of the eight years she had been with the firm.

As she sat there, staring up at him, he could tell she knew something was different about him.

Taking the envelopes she held out to him, he inclined his head as she greeted him with a warm smile.

“Good morning, Mr. Madison.”

“Good morning, Jane.”

“Apparently, it is. You seem positively upbeat this morning.”

Cole knew not to take that the wrong way. Jane was one of the few people who ever told him the truth on a regular basis, so it wasn’t out of the norm for her to point out when he was being a miserable asshole.

“I think today is going to be a very informative day.”

Jane chuckled as she adjusted her wire-rimmed glasses on her nose. “Is that right?”

Tapping the envelopes on the edge of the desk, Cole lifted his briefcase and gave her a rare smile. “Oh yes, Jane, that is right. Can you do me a favor?”

“Of course, what—”

Just as she was about to continue, her phone rang. Cole gestured for her to take it as he turned and moved toward his office door.

“Good morning. This is the law office of Mitchell & Madison. Jane speaking.”

Opening his office door, Cole walked in and closed it behind him. After placing his briefcase on the black leather couch sitting against the wall by the door, he shrugged out of his coat and hung it on the rack. Walking to his desk, he undid the two buttons securing his gray pinstripe jacket. He tugged the bottom of the vest that accompanied the outfit into place as he looked down at the documents Jane had deposited in his inbox.

On the very top of the stack, he noticed a small yellow memo note that had two words: Call Becky.

Damn it. That was the last person he wanted to deal with today. Why can’t it be Friday already? That way I could go up there in person. Instead, he had two more days to push through before he could take off.

Cole sat down and ran a frustrated hand back through his hair. He let out a deep breath, and for a moment, he forgot the reason for his good mood. Looking at the day planner on his desk, he figured if he got Jane to move a few of his meetings around, he could leave the city by three o’clock tomorrow afternoon.

“Jane!” he called.

Immediately, she popped her head in and looked him over, her smile turning to a frown. She made her way into the office and stopped in front of his desk. “You got the memo, I see.”

“Yes.” Cole sighed as he stood with his eyes still on his calendar. “Is there any way you can shuffle around tomorrow’s meetings? Maybe get Harrison in here at ten and Fogerty at noon. I’ll skip lunch and see Gallagher at one. I want to try to be out of here by three. Three thirty at the latest.”