Taking a Chance on Love E-Book

Iris Morland

• Herausgeber: IRIS MORLAND
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: The Youngers
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Seitenzahl: 310

Beschreibung

Merciless and driven, billionaire Anthony Bertram built his company from the ground-up, dedicating every waking moment to creating one of the most powerful corporations in the world.
The last thing he has time for is romance. He almost lost everything when his first marriage fell apart. Disillusioned from his divorce, Anthony knows from experience that love only makes you weak.
When a mix-up results in a woman showing up at his supposedly private cabin during his vacation, all of his plans are completely upended. This woman is just what he doesn’t need: beautiful, spirited, and so maddening that suddenly all Anthony wants is to make her his.
A free-spirited artist and activist, Thea Younger wants to leave the world a better place. When she arrives at the cabin she’s booked for a much-needed vacation and finds Anthony Bertram there—a man who represents everything she’s against—she refuses to let him intimidate her into leaving.
When bad weather forces the pair to stay in the cabin together for a week, though, Thea soon discovers that the man behind the mask is no heartless monster. Anthony is all flesh-and-blood man, and one whose kisses she can’t resist. Desire flames between them until they both surrender to exquisite temptation.
But as secrets loom over Thea, she must look inside her heart and find the courage to take a chance on love.

Leseprobe

Taking a Chance on Love

The Youngers Book 2

Iris Morland

Blue Violet Press LLC

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Epilogue

Enjoy this exclusive excerpt

Also by Iris Morland

About the Author

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Taking a Chance on Love (The Youngers Book 2)

Published by Blue Violet Press LLC

Seattle, Washington

Copyright © 2018 by Iris Morland

Cover design by Resplendent Media

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Chapter One

Thea Younger looked over her shoulder to make sure her boss wasn’t around and opened a new tab on her Internet browser. She’d already gotten in trouble once before for looking at this website, but she just couldn’t help herself.

The photos were mesmerizing; they made her mouth water and her heart pound faster. Her body heated with anticipation as she paged through the photos, one after another, already knowing what she’d see but needing to take them in just one more time.

Who knew that looking at trees could be such a turn-on?

“Whatcha doing?” Nicole, Thea’s fellow administrative assistant at the law office where they both worked, asked. She chuckled when she spotted what Thea was doing. “Are you looking at that cabin again?”

Thea sighed happily. “Isn’t it gorgeous? I’ll be there in three days, Nicole. Only. Three. Days.”

She paged to the photo that showed the inside of the cabin, which featured an expansive fireplace and high ceilings made entirely of gorgeous oak. Thea had wanted to stay at one of the Mighty Pine cabins for over two years now. She’d finally been able to reserve one of the cabins a month ago, and she would be staying up in the Cascades all by her lonesome for two weeks.

Nicole sighed. “Honey, we need to get you a date if you’re drooling over pine trees for the thousandth time this week. What’s so great about this place, anyway? It’s not like Washington doesn’t have trees all over the place.”

“But it’s the scenery. The open air. You can see the stars! Getting away from the city—”

“We hardly live in a city—”

Well, Thea couldn’t argue with that. They lived in Fair Haven, Washington, which was more aptly described as a small town.

“Doesn’t matter, because I leave everything behind me for two weeks.” Thea sighed happily.

Right then, Thea heard footsteps. She promptly closed the webpage just as her boss rounded the corner to her desk.

She’d never thought as a kid that she’d grow up to work in an office, bored out of her mind. It was hardly the stuff dreams were made of.

To be honest, Thea had wanted to be a unicorn when she’d been little. Then, when she’d realized that she couldn’t exactly get a job as a unicorn, she’d decided to become an artist. At least that way, she could draw unicorns to her heart’s content.

Even now, she still wanted to become an artist who actually got paid for her art (although she no longer drew unicorns), but that would also mean showing her work to other people. That was something she still couldn’t do.

“Oooooh, he is so hot. Thea, come look at this.” Nicole popped her head over the wall of her cubicle like a groundhog. “Your favorite guy is talking again.”

Thea shouldn’t give in to temptation. She had work to do. Receipts to log, schedules to create… just the thought of both of those things made her get out of her chair to hang with Nicole in her cubicle instead. She’d never claimed to be the greatest worker in the world. Besides, the day was almost over.

Thea’s lip curled when she saw who was on Nicole’s screen: none other than Anthony Bertram, CEO of Bertram, Sons, and Co., the worst company in the history of forever. Not only were they a multibillion-dollar company whose CEO drew an obscenely huge salary, but they continued to do animal testing for their cosmetic and cleaning products even though there was no reason to do so. They basically tortured animals for money. It was disgusting.

Thea hated Anthony and everything he stood for.

“Look at his stupid, smug face,” she hissed.

“Shh!” Nicole turned up the volume on the livestream, obviously not caring if they got caught. Such was the lure of the handsome and rich Anthony Bertram.

Thea could admit that he was handsome, in a rich, smug, stupid, arrogant, selfish kind of way. His hair was dark, his jaw strong; he had one of those smiles that made a woman all weak-kneed. He clearly worked out, his suits fitting him perfectly, emphasizing his muscular shoulders and wide chest. He wasn’t bulky, though, but tall and fit. At the moment, he wore a dark gray suit with a blue tie; his cufflinks winked in the light of the news studio. They probably cost more than Thea’s annual salary.

“How has the company dealt with the social media controversy?” the news anchor asked Anthony. Thea barely restrained a snort when the perky and busty anchor licked her bottom lip as she asked Anthony the question.

“These things come and go,” said Anthony without any change of expression. “There were a lot of misrepresentations and outright lies in that campaign, and unfortunately, these kinds of things tend to spread like wildfire on the Internet. It’s best to wait for it to blow over than to address it directly.”

“Can you comment on the controversy itself? Will Bertram, Sons, and Co. continue to do animal testing?”

Anthony’s lips turned upward, but it wasn’t a smile. Not really. It looked like a predator spotting its prey. Thea shivered at that look in his eyes.

“I can’t comment on that,” he said, “but as we have said in our statement earlier this week, we pride ourselves on the products we sell, none of which contain parabens or toxins and all of which are one hundred percent organic. We were one of the first in the industry to do so.”

“Yes, but the allegations against you—”

“Are ludicrous,” interrupted Anthony. “It’s nothing except unfounded rumors and salacious gossip. I applaud activists who want to make the world a better place, but when doing so hurts other people, who are they saving? Or what are they saving? Nothing. They’re only patting themselves on the back for doing what they think is right.”

Thea turned red with anger at that comment. She wished she could strangle Anthony Bertram through the computer screen. What an arrogant asshole! That viral campaign had been about exposing the truth and showing consumers where their money was going.

Thea would know: she’d been one of the primary people behind the campaign.

It had been her best friend Mittens’s idea. Milton Haverford III, more commonly known as Mittens, was always the instigator in their circle, while Thea would take on ideas and make them into reality. This time, though, Thea had come up with original idea of a viral social media campaign against Anthony’s company.

Other members of their activist group had soon joined in. The social media campaign against Bertram, Sons, and Co. had grown slowly, and then a huge celebrity had shared the photos of suffering animals—rabbits and rats, primarily—and it had exploded.

Within the last two weeks, Bertram, Sons, and Co. had had to address the allegations, and apparently their stock had plummeted. People were boycotting their products. When Thea had gone to the grocery store just yesterday, she’d seen the company’s cleaning products sitting on the clearance shelves, collecting dust.

Seeing that had filled Thea with pride. She’d done that. She’d made a difference. If they kept pushing, Bertram, Sons, and Co. and other companies like it would have to make changes if they wanted to stay in business. Simple as that.

The news anchor began asking other questions unrelated to the controversy, and Anthony looked bored. He checked his watch at one point. You’d think after everything that happened, he’d at least attempt to be apologetic,thought Thea.

“God, he’s hot,” Nicole repeated. She sighed dreamily.

“He’s a terrible person,” countered Thea.

“We’re all terrible people at the end of the day.” Nicole rolled her eyes. “Besides, he’s rich. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t ride that train to Pound Town if given half a chance.”

Thea scoffed, although to her annoyance, she felt her cheeks redden. She hadn’t ridden anyone to Pound Town in way too long.

“I prefer my men to have morals. Ethics. A conscience,” said Thea.

“You mean you prefer men who are boring and you can dump without getting attached? I’ve known you long enough to know what makes you tick, Miss Thea, dear. And I’ve seen the dudes you’ve dated. They’re like warm tapioca: pointless and bland.”

Thea shoved Nicole lightly, not willing to admit how right her coworker and friend was. So what if she preferred her men to be a little unexciting? At least they weren’t evil.

“Do you have anything else you’d like to say about all of this?” the news anchor asked.

Anthony straightened his cuffs. “I’d like to address the people who instigated this.” He gazed straight at the camera now. “Your actions have consequences and will hurt real people.” He didn’t say anything else, but those words settled in Thea’s stomach like a rock.

They’d done this to help animals and people. How could they be hurting anyone? He was the one at fault here. But was Anthony just posturing, or was there truth in his words?

Thea put that out of her mind. She just had three more days, and she would be on vacation, enjoying the beauty of the woods, the open air, and not worrying about smug rich assholes like Anthony Bertram.

Anthony Bertram, billionaire CEO of Bertram, Sons, and Co., was having a very bad day.

It had started a few weeks ago. A few innocuous posts on social media—nothing new there. The Internet was a vast cesspool of nonsensical opinions. Anthony never paid attention to people blathering about shit they knew nothing about, especially in regard to Bertram, Sons, and Co.

Until one post had suddenly caught fire and been shared over fifty million times, making the company out to be some evil villain intent on animal torture. Newspapers and blogs and news stations had been calling the company nonstop. And Anthony had watched, rage pulsing through him, as his company’s stock had slid down, down, down, and the boycotts against their products had only intensified.

Anthony wasn’t about to let some hippie freaks who conflated animal testing with actual torture destroy what he’d built. He would go down fighting, and by God, he’d take those bastards down with him, too.

By midmorning, Anthony already had a headache. He’d been dodging email after email, phone call after phone call, about this PR nightmare. His board wanted a meeting immediately to discuss what to do.

Anthony was already on edge when Bruce Weaver came barreling into his office. Bruce was a member of Anthony’s board and one of his first shareholders. Although they’d once had a respectful business partnership, things had soured after Anthony had fired Bruce’s son Ryan a year ago. Anthony hadn’t regretted the decision one bit, but Bruce had made a point to make Anthony’s life hell as a result. This new development had given Bruce plenty of ammunition.

Anthony motioned for Bruce to sit, a thoroughly ironic gesture. “You wanted to discuss something?”

Of course Bruce would just come barging into his office, as opposed to sending a reply to Anthony’s email like a normal person.

“Once again, I would advise you to do nothing about this kerfuffle,” said Bruce, ignoring Anthony’s invitation to sit. “You’ll be making a huge mistake by giving these people the satisfaction of being noticed.”

“Considering I’ve already talked about it in the media, I fail to see how another interview would hurt.”

“You think you know everything, don’t you? You may be the CEO, but that doesn’t make you a dictator, either. You’re going to hurt this company irrevocably with your actions.”

“And I say that the current strategy is the reason why we’ve lost millions already.”

Bruce pointed a finger at him. “Don’t think that you’re immune, Bertram. The same people who made you CEO can take you down. Remember that.”

Anthony didn’t rise to the bait. Shrugging, as if Bruce had just suggested they go golfing, he replied, “Do as you wish. You aren’t the board.”

Bruce scowled before marching out of Anthony’s office.

Anthony’s assistant Cara, whose desk was right outside Anthony’s office, stood up when Bruce stormed out. Her eyes widened.

Coming to stand by Anthony’s door, she opened her mouth, ostensibly to ask a question, when he cut her off. “Has Society sent over the draft yet for the article?”

“Oh, oh, yes. They just did,” she stammered.

“Send it over. I want to get this out.”

Cara was smart enough not to comment on Anthony’s choice to continue against what the board—aka Bruce—thought the PR strategy should be. If Bruce wants me out, then he’ll have a hell of a fight to get there, Anthony thought.

After Anthony, Bruce held the most shares in the company, but Bruce would need more than half the board to agree before they could vote Anthony out. Bruce would have an uphill battle to manage that particular coup.

Anthony was just glad that he was going away from the city for a while very soon. He’d rented a cabin up in the woods months ago before all of this had started. He was tempted to leave right now, and hell to everyone who thought they knew better than him how to run his own company.

It was late in the afternoon when Anthony’s office door opened. “Have you heard of knocking?” he barked, thinking it was another rogue board member.

“Is that any way to greet your ex-wife?” a dulcet voice asked.

Anthony smelled her floral scent before he saw her. He’d always know that scent. Elise still wore the same perfume he’d bought her for their first wedding anniversary even though they’d been divorced for two years already. Anthony had a feeling she did it simply to irritate him.

This shit day’s going from bad to worse, he thought sourly. He didn’t get up at Elise’s entrance, and he didn’t offer her a seat, either. She didn’t deserve the courtesy.

Cara burst into his office. “Mr. Bertram, I’m sorry, I told her you were busy—”

“I’m sure you did,” he interrupted. “Cara, please close the door behind you.”

When his office door closed with a click, Anthony returned to the documents on his desk, not remotely interested in giving Elise the attention she craved. If she wanted something—which she most certainly did—she would have to tell him herself.

He heard her sit down across from him in the same seat that Bruce had refused to use. Why is today the day everyone seems intent on bursting into my office? he thought darkly. He X’ed out some numbers on the paper in front of him with a bit more force than necessary.

Elise clucked her tongue at him.

Glancing up, Anthony couldn’t help but notice that despite everything, she was still beautiful. Damn her.

Wearing an emerald-green dress that showed off every curve yet somehow remained demure, Elise exuded sex appeal in a deceptively simple package. She never wore red lipstick—only pinks and pale plums. She preferred to put her hair up rather than leaving it down, the honey-colored strands soft as silk and the color completely natural. Her sweet façade had been what had attracted Anthony in the first place. It had only been later that he’d seen her capacity for inflicting pain.

“Is this how you treat guests?” she asked, amused. “I thought I’d taught you better manners than that.”

He set his pen down and waited, a dark eyebrow raised. Like he’d thrown down a gauntlet, Elise then set her purse, a small clutch with gold trim, on his desk. Anthony knew that he hadn’t bought her that purse, so Ryan must have. The thought made him want to punch Ryan Weaver all over again.

Not because Anthony still loved Elise. Far from it. The moment he’d caught her cheating on him with Ryan, who also happened to be his former vice president and best friend, his heart had turned to stone. He’d divorced her before she could explain why she’d decided screwing his then–best friend had been a good idea. No, he’d hated that the two of them had made him look like a fool, that they’d conducted their affair right under his nose.

He would never let anyone make a fool of him again.

He couldn’t help but notice the giant diamond on Elise’s finger along with the wedding band. She’d gotten Ryan to marry her quickly, that was for sure.

“Why won’t you answer my texts? I’ve texted, called, emailed. Is your phone dead?” asked Elise. She pushed her bottom lip forward in a pout.

Anthony laughed darkly. “I hate to break it to you, but I was ignoring you. Now, unless you have something you actually need to tell me, get out. I have work to do.”

To his immense annoyance, she laughed. “You’re such a brute, Tony. You always were.” Her eyes sparkled.

He gritted his teeth at the sound of her calling him Tony. She was the only one who’d ever used that name with him, and now hearing it on her lips only made him hate her more.

“You always were terrible at compliments,” he said.

“Only because you’re worse at them,” she countered. Probably realizing his patience was at an end, she said, “I want more money, Tony.”

He snorted. “Of course you do. The thousands I paid you already to keep your mouth shut wasn’t enough?” He gestured toward the giant ring on her finger.

She flushed, covering her left hand. “You know very well that your lawyer screwed me over, and it’s not enough to support me.” Her voice was stiff to the point of sounding prissy.

“Ryan doesn’t give you money?”

She stiffened. Anthony hadn’t meant to bring up her latest husband, but with Elise, his self-control tended to dissipate.

“He doesn’t give me money because he’s still out of work. Because of you.” Her eyes narrowed. “I want more money.”

“Or what? You’ll fuck another man while we’re married?” Anthony sneered. “Wait, you already did that.”

Elise’s cheeks turned bright red. “You ass,” she hissed, standing and grabbing her purse. “This is why I left you. You’re heartless. A brute, less than human—”

“I distinctly recall that I divorced you after I found you naked in our bed. With another man.”

The memory of that moment had forever seared itself onto Anthony’s mind. He pushed the memory away, refusing to allow Elise to sink her claws into him again.

“I want more money, or I’m going to the press and telling them everything,” she said.

Slowly standing up, Anthony rounded his desk and towered over Elise. “You wouldn’t dare,” he said silkily. “You don’t have the balls to ruin your reputation like that.”

“Do you want to chance it?”

Her voice wavered, and he knew she was bluffing. Disgusted, he pointed to the door. “Get out of my office. If I see you in my building again, I’ll have security toss you out.”

Her spine went ramrod straight. “Fine. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer, then.”

Anthony didn’t even flinch when Elise slammed his office door behind her.

Chapter Two

Thea shivered as she peeled off her sodden jacket, trying to find a light switch inside the darkened cabin. The rain continued to fall, pounding on the roof above. Thea finally gave up on trying to find a light switch and turned on her phone to use as a flashlight. Her bladder was about to explode, and it didn’t care one bit if she couldn’t see to find a bathroom.

Luckily there was a bathroom with just a toilet and sink on the first floor. After relieving herself, Thea ventured into the kitchen. She switched on the oven light, which provided enough illumination that she could get a better idea of her surroundings.

It was close to midnight. She’d planned on arriving earlier in the evening, but a late start coupled with a rainstorm that had turned the twisty forest roads into mud had slowed her down considerably. She’d almost thought about turning back, but her four-wheel drive SUV and her own stubbornness had forbidden her.

Her stomach growled, although fatigue pressed on her more than hunger. She wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for an entire day. Why was it that sitting on your butt in a car was so exhausting? Yawning, she went and brought in the groceries she’d brought with her and began to put them away.

It took her a long moment to realize that there was already food in the fridge. And food on the counter. Thea frowned. Had Ted, the cabin owner, not cleaned up after the previous people? Considering she’d had to put down a deposit in case she trashed the place, that hardly seemed fair.

She wrinkled her nose when she saw that whoever it was had left breadcrumbs all over the counter. And was that deli meat in the fridge? Gross. She threw it into the trash along with some cheese, mayo, and everything else she never, ever ate. Good riddance.

After she’d put her food away, she wandered into the living room. She finally found a light switch, and when she flipped it on, she saw that there were books on the side table. She frowned. The books were all boring nonfiction tomes about economics, which sounded like terrible choices to provide your guests. Or the last guy was the most boring person ever and had left them behind.

It was when she saw the boots by the front door that she froze. They were huge compared to hers, so clearly they were men’s boots. She crouched down to inspect the boots, and her blood turned cold when she touched the mud on the boots and found it wet. If the mud was still wet, then the wearer had been outside fairly recently. And if the wearer had left them here within the last few hours or so…

She stifled a scream when she heard footsteps upstairs.

Oh God, what the hell? Who would be out here in the middle of nowhere?

Thea’s mind whirled, her heart pounding so fast that she felt dizzy. What if some serial killer had come to kill her? But then why leave his stupid boots right there for her to see them? Maybe he knows it doesn’t matter once he slashes my throat.

She’d unconsciously moved backward toward the kitchen, when she heard footsteps at the top of the stairs. Her heart seized in her throat. If she ran out the front door, he’d hear her and if he caught her—

Sprinting as quickly and quietly as she could, she grabbed a butcher knife from the knife block in the kitchen before hiding inside the pantry. Her only hope was that the intruder didn’t notice her things everywhere. Or at the very least, he wouldn’t think to open the pantry door.

Thea held her breath when the kitchen light turned on. She heard the fridge door open and then the intruder muttered something. She frowned. Why was he rifling around in the fridge?

“What the hell?” a male voice said.

Thea heard his footsteps depart into the living room, but to her horror, he returned to the kitchen. She clutched the knife. She could call 911, but she was so far away from civilization that once the cops showed up, she’d be long dead, her body thrown into the nearby creek.

Oh God, this was supposed to be a relaxing vacation!

When the pantry door was thrown open, Thea screamed and launched herself at the intruder. He yelled, surprised, pushing her off him before grappling with her. The knife clattered to the floor. As the intruder held her still, she looked up into the eyes of the man who was going to kill her.

And when she recognized him, she was so shocked her voice failed her.

It was Anthony Bertram.

She gaped up at him, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. He frowned down at her like some ferocious predator. He was significantly taller than her, as she only came up to his shoulder. His grip was firm to the point of hurting, but she hardly felt it. Was this some kind of bizarre nightmare? Had he found out what she’d done and decided to kill her himself? But why drive out here to do it? Her mind raced as she started shaking.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Anthony demanded in a voice like thunder. Thea flinched. He continued, “Why are you hiding in the goddamn pantry? And more importantly, who are you?”

If he wanted to kill her, he would’ve done it already. Realizing that she wasn’t in any actual danger, she inhaled, trying to find the words to explain.

And then, to both their surprise, she started laughing.

Anthony let her go like she’d thrown acid on him. Thea kept laughing, knowing she sounded like a lunatic and not caring. It was so ridiculous, and she was so jacked up on adrenaline, that laughing was the only way she could calm herself down.

Anthony just stared at her, and it only made her laugh harder.

“Oh my God,” was all she could keep saying. “Oh my God, you scared the shit out of me.”

“I scared the shit out of you?” He shot her an incredulous look. “What the hell are you doing here? I’ve rented this cabin for me and me only. Are you homeless?”

At that question, Thea’s laughter faded. She was wearing old sweats and her hair needed a good wash, but she hardly looked homeless.

“You’ve rented this cabin? I think you’ve made a mistake. I’ve rented this cabin for two weeks. So you’re the one intruding,” she said.

Anthony shook his head, his jaw clenching. She couldn’t help but notice that her nemesis was even handsomer in person: his jaw was practically cut from marble, his hair dark as the night outside. His eyes were dark, too, although if she looked more closely, she could see specks of gold in them.

Not that she was looking. No way.

And then she realized he wore nothing but boxers. She’d been so terrified that his near nakedness just hadn’t registered. Her face heated as she took in his muscular torso, his chiseled abdomen and pectorals. His chest was covered in dark hair, while more dark hair pointed straight down to the waistband of his boxers.

She swallowed, mouth dry. As if he’d known she was ogling him, Anthony just crossed his arms and raised one dark eyebrow.

“Who. The. Hell. Are. You?” he asked slowly, raking her with his gaze. “If you aren’t homeless, then why the fuck are you in my cabin?”

Thea sighed. The adrenaline leaving her system made her feel shaky, and it was difficult to put the threads of all of this together. And it didn’t help that Thea didn’t know if she should tell Anthony her name. What if he knew exactly who’d started that campaign against his company?

She had no idea how they’d know—she and Mittens had been careful—but Anthony had contacts and money. That alone should make her wary. Then again, if they did know, he would’ve sent his lawyers after her already.

But his angry gaze told her he wasn’t about to let her keep silent. Deciding to stick with the truth, she said, “My name is Thea. And who are you?” She knew who he was, obviously, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of her recognizing him.

“Anthony Bertram. Now my next question,” he said as he went to the fridge and opened it. “Where the hell did all of my food go?”

Anthony had come downstairs to have a midnight snack because he couldn’t sleep, only to find a damn crazy woman in the kitchen. He still wasn’t totally convinced she wasn’t going to stab him. But considering she was half his size and hadn’t tried to stab him a second time, he had a feeling she’d been as surprised as he’d been.

The knife on the floor gleamed up at him. Picking it up, he sent Thea an ironic glance. He placed the knife back in the knife block and once again gestured to the fridge. “What happened to my food?” he asked again. Because really, he’d come downstairs for something to eat, and his food had disappeared. Had she eaten it all while he’d been upstairs?

She said, “That’s what you’re worried about here? Your deli meat that’s filled with sodium and that will make your heart explode someday?”

Oh God, she was one of those people. He groaned, shutting the fridge. His appetite had disappeared, anyway. He needed to get this woman out of the cabin. Right now.

She was crazy, yes, but when she’d launched herself at him, he’d felt that she was a pleasant armful of womanly curves. She wasn’t his type in the slightest: her hair was too short, she had a septum ring in her nose and a sleeve of tattoos all along her right arm. She was also obnoxiously short. He preferred women tall enough that he didn’t get a neck ache from kissing them.

Not that he wanted to kiss her. He didn’t kiss crazy.

He’d driven up to the cabin earlier that day, looking forward to being alone for the next two weeks. Amid the PR fiasco, he’d forgotten about his reservation until Cara had reminded him. He’d considered canceling, but he didn’t want to give Bruce and the other members of the board the satisfaction. Bruce would see it as weakness, would think he’d gotten to Anthony.

Anthony would still be working anyway—that couldn’t be avoided—and he’d made certain that the cabin he had chosen had reliable Wi-Fi. Besides, Cara was a phone call away, and he could get back to Seattle within three hours if all else failed.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, Anthony crossed his arms. “How about you explain why you’re here?” he said. First, he needed to take care of this woman.

“Because I’m renting this cabin for two weeks.” Her expression turned mulish. “So why are you here?”

Pulling out his phone, he brought up the email from Ted, confirming his reservation. “You must have gotten the dates mixed up.” He showed her the email.

But to his dismay, she pulled out her own phone—one with a cracked screen that he could barely read off—and he read that she’d gotten the same confirmation email. You’re confirmed for the Peaceful Waters Cabin at Mighty Pine, April 3–17. They were the exact same dates as in his confirmation email.

He thrust her phone back at her. “Then there’s a mix-up. I’ll call Ted in the morning, get you a refund.” He wanted to wring Ted’s neck. How could he have let this happen? Who booked two strangers at the same time?

“Why should I leave?” Thea countered. She mirrored Anthony by crossing her arms, which only made her small breasts more obvious. He decided to ignore that. “I have as much of a right to stay here as you. Besides, you’re rich. You can go anywhere. I’ve saved up for this trip, while I’m sure this is just a drop in the bucket for you.”

“Who says I’m rich?” he said, despite it being completely true.

“Because you have the face of a rich douche, and you’re wearing an expensive watch. Pretty easy to guess everything else.”

“I’ll have to do something about being so obvious.”

He called Cara, needing to get this sorted out. Cara was used to getting phone calls at all hours of the night. If anyone could get this crazy woman a hotel room or find a new cabin for her, it was Cara.

“What are you doing?” Thea demanded.

Anthony ignored her.

“Cara, there’s a situation. I need you to find me a hotel room for tonight. Somewhere near the cabin. Yes, tonight. No, it’s not for me—”

Before he could hear Cara’s reply, Thea took the phone out of his hand and ended the call. Anthony stared down at her, immense irritation filling him.

“Give me my phone back,” he said in the same tone of voice he used with people he was ten seconds away from eviscerating. The same voice that made employees quiver in their boots. He’d made more than one intern cry when he’d used this particular voice.

Thea, however, didn’t look like she was going to burst into tears. She merely tipped her chin up in defiance.

He towered over her and slowly began to force her backward until she bumped into the wall. So close to her, he could smell her—something citrusy yet also spicy—and he could see that her eyes were a dark grayish green. He was so close that only an inch or two separated them.

She’d put her hands behind her back, the phone still clutched in her grip.

“I’m not leaving,” she said with obvious bravado. “I have as much a right as you to be here. I paid for my reservation. I’m not going to let you ruin my vacation.”

Anthony smiled, but there was no humor in it. “I don’t give two shits what you paid for. I don’t care if you’re the goddamn queen of England. I’ve wanted to be alone in this cabin, and I’m not about to have some crazy hippie woman ruin that.”

Thea bristled. “I’m not crazy.”

“You tried to stab me.”

“I thought you were going to kill me!”

“I’m seriously considering it now.”

She didn’t waver, and Anthony couldn’t help but be impressed. Most women would’ve started crying already. Elise certainly would have. She used tears like a soldier used a gun, and she could employ it at the most opportune time to get what she wanted.

He reached to get his phone, but Thea pushed it higher up her back. He’d have to turn her around and rip it from her grasp, which meant touching her again. He wasn’t going to touch her a second time.

“Give. Me. My. Phone. Back,” said Anthony through clenched teeth.

“I will if you promise not to kick me out.”

“No.”

“Then we’ll stay here all night.”

He placed his hand on the wall above her head, effectively caging her in. Her chest rose and fell, and he could tell she wasn’t as calm as she’d like him to think.

“I have all the time in the world,” he said softly. “And I never lose.”

Since intimidation wasn’t going to work, Anthony decided that he’d try another tactic. There was always something that caused a person to let down their guard. Fear, greed. And lust. Trailing his fingers down her arm, he encircled her wrist. He brushed the soft skin there with his thumb. When Thea shuddered despite her best efforts, he exulted.

“If you’re going to stay here,” he murmured, his mouth near her ear, “then you might as well give me a good reason to let you stay.”

She froze. He stroked her forearm. Then she shuddered.

When he raised his head, his gaze landing on her rosy mouth, he suddenly wanted to kiss her. Right then and there.

Thea licked her lips.

And then a sharp pain radiated from his foot, and he swore as Thea ducked under his arm. She’d stomped on his fucking foot, the little bitch!

She laughed at his pained expression. If she’d broken his foot—

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said and ran upstairs, his phone still in her hand. When he heard a bedroom door shut with a bang upstairs, he knew he’d been beaten.

He swore, long and low.

Thea might have won that battle, but by God, he’d win this fucking war.

Chapter Three

A