Hard(20)

Sexiest man I ever touched.

Liar.

He smiled, baring his teeth, reminding me of his teasing bite.

Step-brother.

He was too close to me. The rugged, dusty scent of him dizzied my head worse than the drinks he bought me that night. I would have done anything if he were just a stranger, just someone I met, just someone I could have once more.

But he wasn’t.

He was Zach. He was the worst thing that ever happened to me.

And he was still holding my panties.

I ripped them away from him, but my fingers brushed his. A dozen little shivers cracked into a thousand tiny whispers with a million different regrets. His hand warmed mine, so much bigger and stronger than my delicate palm. His skin, light and fair, contrasted mine with perfect beauty. Like we were made opposite just to be brought together. Two sides of a coin. Two polar extremes of a magnet.

My mouth dried. He stilled.

“Shay—”

His voice rumbled with a playboy’s confidence, the smooth jazz of a man who knew what he liked and got it every time.

But not this time.

I couldn’t let him do this to me.

Not again.

New life rule. Zach was a sin, even worse than the cardinal ones, if they made it. Blue-jay maybe. Or, since he was an American soldier, Bald Eagle Sin.

In any case, Zach Harden was completely off-limits to me. Forbidden. And I had one way to make sure he left my life forever.

It wasn’t every day a girl could recover from her mistakes with grace. It was an even rarer day she could buy redemption. I had the money. I had the opportunity. I would spend as much as I could if it meant banishing my greatest mistake. Enough was enough.

“I’m moving to the mansion,” I said. “But once I get my trust, I’m buying your half of the estate from you. After that’s done, you’ll have no reason to contact me again.”

“Fair is fair.” Zach leaned close. “Though I think you’re missing a great opportunity.”

“For what?”

“To fall for me.”

I met his gaze, just as hard and deliberate as the rest of him. “I would rather lose every penny to my name than fall for you.”

“Say the word. You can get me for free.”

I laughed. “Cherish your memories. That’s all you’ll ever have.”

“Those are some priceless memories, baby.” He grabbed a packed box from the floor, but nearly dropped it. His fingers trembled. He cracked his knuckles and tried again, lifting it without a problem. “Are these going?”

“Put it down.”

He winked. “I’ll take it home for you. But don’t be late. I’m ordering dinner for seven.”

He grabbed another box on the way out.

Great. I was barefoot, and every pair of shoes I owned was packed in the box he carried outside. My panties scattered in his wake.

I groaned.

Living with Zach would be living with pure temptation. Either I’d throttle him or I’d…

I didn’t let myself finish the thought. There was no other alternative. We could tolerate each other in a semi-peaceful truce and that was it. No ordered dinners. No falling for him.

And no reason for him to have stolen my favorite pair of black panties!

I rifled through my suitcase and checked under the bed. Gone. God, he was a pervert.

I fumed.

He had it right. He deserved every part of his nickname.

Living with Zach was going to be H-a-r-d.





The mansion had a lot of perks. The gym. The pool. I even got myself a king-sized bed.

But a bed like this wasn’t for sleeping. I could think of much better things to do on it.

But the one woman I wanted in the bed was the one who wanted nothing to do with me while horizontal.

Good thing I was just as proficient when vertical.

I kicked my duffle bag into the closet. This wasn’t a room that deserved a mess on the floor. The bed had eight fucking pillows. Who the hell used that many pillows? Or a quilt that looked like someone stretched and ruined a scarf then tossed it over a corner. They painted the ceiling with cherubs, and mismatched marble and granite in the fireplace.

It was all my mother’s doing, as was most of the décor in the house. If Shay noticed the mansion transitioned from eighteenth century France to nineteenth century Venice, she said nothing. My mother transformed the estate into journey through history. We were lucky she hadn’t require powdered wigs and cummerbunds to enjoy it.

I couldn’t fault her style, even if the bleach in her hair scrambled what she thought looked classy. At least Mom and Darnell had been happy before the end. She wanted a guy with a bottomless wallet to take care of her, and he liked them blonde and pumped full of silicon. Match made in Heaven.

I wished them well and then headed overseas. It wasn’t my place to judge and, hell, I didn’t have time for family. But life had a funny way of trapping you in an ambush and splitting your flesh with two pounds of explosive shrapnel. Fate spoke to me, saying slow down or bleed out. I woke from surgery with my mother talking about diamonds, tulle veils, and destination weddings. Took her two days and one seizure before she asked which of my organs didn’t make it back from Iraq.