LITMIR.BIZ

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really hoped to gain from this meeting was an understanding of what he’d done to piss them off so much they’d excluded him from the negotiations in the first place.

      He hated to be in the dark. That’s when you were open and vulnerable. Beckett did not like being exposed. And the irony wasn’t lost on him at all.

      Now V&D were scrambling, and Beckett was going to enjoy sitting back and watching the show. This would be fun.

      He grasped the handle of the conference room door and his heart rate kicked. He embraced the physical evidence of his anticipation, letting it free for just a moment. A smile flickered across his lips. Then, completely in control, he wiped his expression clean.

      Striding forward with confidence, he raked his gaze across the conference table and the people already waiting. And he nearly stumbled.

      Blood, adrenaline and a bone-deep craving flooded his body. Every muscle went solid, straining against his skin and the need to reach across the table, grasp the woman staring at him and kiss the hell out of her.

      Although the daggers she currently had pointed at him said that probably wouldn’t go over well.

      Beckett’s years of harsh control served him well. Shaking his head, he pulled out the chair opposite the gathered contingent and settled against the soft leather surface. Leaning back, he let the chair tip off center and take his weight, his body lax and comfortable.

      Scraping the group with a practiced, sharp smile that was all teeth and challenge, he waited to see what their first move would be.

      He’d been looking forward to this meeting all morning, but suddenly it had gone from entertaining to downright thrilling.

      Because sitting across from him, elegant, cold and seriously pissed off, was the last person he’d ever expected to see.

      The woman was far from the tech geek he’d anticipated. While he’d been doing research on both of the partners, the V in V&D had remained a mystery. In an age of social media, she hadn’t had a Facebook, Twitter or Google+ account. Which had struck him as weird, considering she was the brains behind a company poised to explode into the highly competitive tech market.

      Hell, she was selling a social media app and didn’t have a single social media account. No photographs or videos of her drunken college days on YouTube. According to rumor, she valued her privacy, preferring her lab, computers and code to actual human interaction.

      He’d half prepared himself for some shy, mousy thing with pale skin and eyes bloodshot from staring at flickering screens too long.

      Instead, her pale-green gaze was definitely not foggy or distracted. It was intelligent, angry and trained solely on him.

      A blouse the same shade as her eyes was buttoned up tight. A single strand of gleaming pearls nestled against the hollow of her throat. The long, lush hair was swept up into a tight twist, bangs feathering across her forehead.

      She was clearly the prim and proper businesswoman ready to plunge into shark-infested waters...and win. And maybe, if fate hadn’t intervened, the ruse would have worked.

      But he knew her secrets.

      He’d seen her naked skin, that heartbreaking tattoo and her sexy lingerie just last night, framed in the lonely window of a French Quarter apartment.

      * * *

      ALYSSA WATCHED HIM stride into the room, powerful, commanding and utterly confident in his own skin. She’d braced for the impact, but it hadn’t done much good.

      The moment he entered it felt as if all the oxygen had been sucked from the room. Her lungs deflated, leaving her gasping for breath.

      It had been years since she’d seen the man, although their single encounter had left a lasting impression. Not just on her psyche, but on her life.

      Although she’d bet next year’s profits he didn’t have the first clue who she was...or that he’d once had his tongue down her throat and his hand up her skirt.

      Or that he’d humiliated her.

      She’d been sixteen and upset from a fight with Bridgett and her father before a friend had picked her up for a party. Her stepmother had accused her of things she hadn’t done—drugs, drinking, seeing an older guy. Without a second thought, her father had believed every word his wife fed him.

      That betrayal had hurt. She’d arrived at the party hell-bent on letting loose. If she was going to be painted with the brush then she should at least enjoy the experience. That first beer had tasted terrible, but by the fourth she’d no longer cared about anything.

      She’d been thoroughly blitzed by the time Lindsey had pointed out a group of older boys who’d graduated from their exclusive private prep school several years before. Alyssa had noticed Beckett Kayne immediately. Who wouldn’t? He was gorgeous in a wickedly dangerous kind of way that appealed to the rebellious streak she was tired of denying.

      Without the liquid courage she probably never would have walked up to him, grabbed his face and kissed the hell out of him. What she hadn’t been prepared for was her immediate, all-consuming response. Or how quickly he took control, backing her into a corner and letting his hands roam across her body.

      They didn’t dance or talk, just skipped straight to trying to find an unoccupied room. But somewhere through the haze of alcohol, groping and sparkling heat, Alyssa remembered she needed to tell him she was a virgin. The moment the slurred words left her mouth everything changed.

      Beckett vaulted away from her as if she’d suddenly developed the plague. On top of the other emotional upheaval of the night, that loss had felt like a kick in the gut.

      It wasn’t until the next day that she truly understood the depth of Beckett’s duplicity. One of his friends let it slip that he’d had his eye on her all night...not because he was interested, but because he was desperate for money, she was young and her father was loaded.

      Alyssa bit back a bitter chuckle. If only he’d known he was wasting his time, even the little he’d invested. Her father might have been rich as Croesus, but she sure as hell hadn’t been. Wasn’t. Maybe never would be. Although, money had never really mattered to her.

      He’d left her there, humiliated, drunk and alone. She’d been forced to call her father to come pick her up. Ignoring the tear tracks on her cheeks, he and her stepmother had lit into her. Bridgett had ranted about what a bad influence she was on her half sister, Mercedes.

      And there was nothing she could say.

      From that night on, any hope she’d ever had of repairing her relationship with her father had crumbled to dust.

      But that had been years ago, and until Kayne’s name had come across her desk, attached to an intent to bid notice for the Watch Me app, she’d thought she was long over the experience.

      Oh, how wrong she’d been. Just his name had sent anger, humiliation and something much more sinful washing across her skin. There was no way in hell she’d do business with the man and she’d said as much to her partner, Mitch Dornigan.

      They might be equal owners of V&D, but he hadn’t protested or questioned her snap decision. In the weeks since, her anger hadn’t dissipated. In fact, it had only increased, especially with the man’s latest stunt. She wanted to reach across the conference table and scratch the smug expression right off his face.

      Unfortunately, that didn’t stop her from reacting to him. Just the sight of his powerful, suit-clad body had energy humming through her bones, pure electricity. Her pulse skittered, her mouth went dry and her palms started to sweat.

      God, she hated that Beckett Kayne had this kind of primal effect on her. She was a strong, independent and intelligent woman. So why, the moment he walked into her sphere of existence, did her brain go haywire and her body revolt?

      The simple answer was that the man was inherently sensual in a dark and dangerous sort of way. Even more so now than back then. Any living, breathing female would respond

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