a revenge so sweet

ONE

DYLAN

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!” Weston, my business partner,

exclaimed from the front passenger seat of my service car as we

pulled away from the curb.

Restraining myself from directing the driver—a habit of mine,

surely not useful now when I’d been out of New York City for so long

—I looked behind me out the rear window at the two figures we’d left

behind. Donovan Kincaid, another one of my partners at Reach, Inc.

along with Weston King, was chasing down a girl who worked in the

office—Sabrina Lind.

I had only just met Sabrina this evening. The woman was

pleasant, smart, straightforward. Had a good head on her shoulders.

Weston and I had dined with her and her younger sister and had just

been finishing up when Donovan had come in, all blustering and

noble and knightly.

“Donovan called himself her boyfriend,” Weston said

incredulously, recalling the scene we’d just left. “Was I the only one

who heard that? I can’t be that drunk.”

It had been an out-of-character declaration for the usually tightlipped and brooding Donovan, but I’d seen this side of him before,

many years in the past. The last time he had given a woman his

heart.

If anyone asked me, he was wasting his time with this one.

Sabrina had said several things over dinner that suggested she was

no longer entertained by the circus that surrounded romantic notions.

“I heard it,” the young woman sitting next to me answered.

Now this one—Audrey, the younger sister whom I’d volunteered

to see home—a man would have a much easier time trying to woo

her. She’d made that clear over dinner as well.

Too bad she was that kind of girl. The kind of girl who wanted a

man to love her before she lifted her skirt. Otherwise...

I turned my head slightly, imperceptibly, and slid my eyes down

her form, pausing on the sweet curve of her breasts, watching her

chest rise and fall with her breath. My gaze had traveled this journey

several times this evening, but now I was lucky enough to have the

added view of her legs, which had been hidden under the table

before. They were long and toned, a little curve in just the right

place.

“I heard it,” she said again, “and it was so romantic.”

The swoon in her voice made me chuckle. God, she was young.

Younger than whatever ridiculous young age she actually was. Who

the hell even believed in romance anymore?

“I don’t understand,” Weston muttered, combing his hand through

his hair. “I’m Donovan’s best friend. I knew he was sleeping with her,

but I didn’t know he was her boyfriend. I didn’t know he was into her.

I was supposed to be into Sabrina. When did this happen? Where

have I been?”

Oh. That was right. Weston King believed in love and

relationships.

He turned his head to look at both of us in the backseat. “I’m

seriously asking here.”

I glanced at Audrey. Her expression said that she had been in the

know, but her lips were sealed.

That left me to console my partner. “You’ve probably been too

distracted with that Dyson pussy you’ve been banging,” I was

definitely still intoxicated. I didn’t normally use such crass language

in front of a lady. Especially such a young lady.

“Hey,” Weston said, pointing a stern finger in my direction.

“Elizabeth is not just some pussy I’ve been banging. I’m going to

marry her.”