LITMIR.BIZ

       One

      Three Months Later

      “Where the hell is Noah?” Jonah Flynn growled into his telephone and gripped his coffee mug fiercely in his free hand.

      “He’s...n-not in, sir.”

      His brother’s administrative assistant, Melody, was audibly startled by his tone and he immediately chose to correct it. Jonah didn’t raise his voice to his employees, ever. Honestly, the only person he ever shouted at was Noah. And he would direct his anger at his brother if he could find the bastard.

      “I’m sorry for yelling, Melody. I didn’t think he would be there. He’s never in the office. What I really meant was do you know where he’s gone to? He isn’t answering his home phone and his cell phone goes directly to voice mail like he’s got it turned off.”

      Melody hesitated on the line for a moment. Jonah could hear the clicking of her keyboard as she checked his calendar. “His calendar is wide-open, but he mentioned as he left that he was headed to Bangkok.”

      Jonah nearly choked on his latte. He swallowed hard and moved the cup out of his reach. “As in Thailand?”

      “Yes, sir.”

      He took a deep breath to swallow his anger. He would not, could not, take this out on Melody. She’d already called him “sir” twice, which just felt wrong. Yes, he was the CEO, but he was also wearing jeans and a Monty Python T-shirt. Everyone just called him Jonah.

      “Any idea when he’ll be back?”

      “No, but he did send me the number of the hotel he’s staying at. You could probably reach him there.”

      “That would be great, thanks, Melody.” She read off the number and he quickly scratched it on his desk blotter before hanging up. He dialed it, getting transferred to his brother’s suite without much trouble. Of course Noah didn’t answer. He was probably frolicking with some exotic beauty. Jonah forced himself to leave a voice mail message that didn’t betray the true reason for his call and hung up in disgust.

      Thailand.

      If he’d had any second thoughts about Noah being involved in his current mess, they immediately dissipated. If the preliminary accounting reports he was looking at were correct, his little brother had just taken off to Southeast Asia with three million dollars that didn’t belong to him.

      Jonah leaned back in his leather chair and gently rubbed his temples. This was not good.

      The timing was never good for embezzlement, really, but his brother had just royally screwed him over in more ways than one. Noah didn’t spend much time in the office; his role in the company was to please their mother and nothing else. But Noah knew—he knew—that they were close to wrapping up the deal with Game Town. The auditor they’d hired was showing up today. Today!

      This could ruin everything. It wasn’t a huge amount in terms of the numbers that ran through the company, but his brother wasn’t smart and took it in one big chunk, transferring it to some offshore account he had in the Caribbean. Anyone with an interest would run across it eventually. Game Town was hiring FlynnSoft to manage their monthly game subscription service. Who would want the company handling their money to have issues like that? Jonah certainly wouldn’t do it if the roles were reversed.

      This needed cleaning up and fast. As much as he didn’t want to, he could rearrange his assets for some cash and cover the loss. He would take it out of his brother’s hide later. Maybe make him sell his overpriced European sports car. Perhaps even make him do some actual work at FlynnSoft for free until he paid off the debt.

      But Noah would pay for this. By the time Jonah was done with him, his little brother would wish he’d simply called the cops.

      But he wouldn’t. Not on his brother. And not for any love he had for his useless sibling, but for concern for their mother. Angelica Flynn had a degenerative heart condition and couldn’t take much stress. If Noah, the baby and undoubtedly favorite child, ended up in jail, she’d have one hell of an attack. If she found out Noah was turned in by his own brother, he had no doubt she’d drop dead from the strain and embarrassment. In the end, it would all be Jonah’s fault and he refused to be the bad guy in this.

      He would handle his brother without their mother ever finding out.

      Publicly, Jonah could deal with this however he wished. As a privately owned gaming company he had that luxury. Thank heavens he hadn’t taken people’s advice to go public. The move could make him a fortune overnight, but he’d also have shareholders and a board of directors to answer to. He could even be fired, losing control of the empire he’d started in his college dorm room.

      No way. FlynnSoft was his and Jonah didn’t answer to anyone, especially some pompous suits who thought they knew better than he did how to run his company. He’d bail FlynnSoft and his brother out one way or another. His employees deserved as much. And they deserved the money this new contract could bring in. If Noah hadn’t just blown it.

      What a mess.

      Jonah flopped back into his executive chair and let his gaze drift over to the framed photograph that sat on the edge of his desk. In it, a Blue Morpho butterfly sat sunning itself on a clump of bright yellow flowers.

      He’d gotten more than a few odd looks since he’d brought the picture into the office. Jonah wasn’t exactly a nature buff. He’d spent his entire adolescence focused on video games and girls, both of which could be enjoyed in the climate-controlled comfort of his bedroom.

      Of course, he couldn’t tell anyone why it was really there. How do you explain a night like that to people? You just couldn’t. They wouldn’t believe you. If it wasn’t for the proof inked into his skin, he might’ve believed she was a tequila induced hallucination. His gaze dropped to his right hand and the tattoo etched into the web of skin between his thumb and index finger. His fingertip grazed over the slightly raised design, tracing it as he’d done that night, only then it was across the silky skin of her chest. His half of the heart.

      The other half had disappeared with the woman in the butterfly mask. He’d never anticipated a company Mardi Gras party at his loft would turn into an unforgettable night of body shots, anonymous sex and late-night tattoos. But for some reason, she, whoever she was, had gotten under his skin almost instantly. Everything from her soft gasp as he licked the salt from her throat to the way she’d begged for him to take her was etched into his mind.

      Even with all the crap going on with Game Town, he couldn’t help but let his thoughts drift to her again. She’d asked him for one night. No names, no personal details. Pure fantasy. Her multicolored glitter butterfly mask had obscured everything but her sleek, brunette ponytail, the full pout of her lips and the bewitching emerald green of her eyes.

      How, exactly, had he decided that letting her walk out of his life was a good idea?

      Jonah had been an idiot. He could see it now. For years, he’d gone through a lineup of women. They were all beautiful. Many were successful or talented in one way or another. They were drawn to his business success and the glamorous lifestyle he could provide. Most men would be content with the kind of woman who would throw herself at them, but he never was. He would inevitably get bored and move on. He’d actually earned a reputation as one of Manhattan’s Most Eligible and Elusive Bachelors.

      But his butterfly had kept his interest. Even three months later, he still found himself thinking about her. Wondering where she was. Who she was. Trying to figure out if the real woman could ever measure up to his memory of her. She’d insisted that the next morning he wouldn’t want her anymore, like she would turn into a pumpkin at the stroke of midnight. Was it just the fantasy he craved? If he’d seen her face and known her name, would she have been relegated to the list of women he’d loved and forgotten? He didn’t know.

      Jonah

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