I’m not giving the vultures a damn word to feed on.
I have a better idea—one I’ve been crafting and honing all night.
Palming my still-humming phone, I head downstairs and drive myself through a hard morning workout to give one last think through my possibilities. After a punishing hour, followed by a long shower, then coffee and eggs, I keep coming back to my immovable resolution. Parker is going down. And the plan that’s been swirling in my head since last night—the one I initially second-guessed as being too aggressive, high-handed, and cutthroat? It’s just become priority one.
Smiling, I reach for my phone to set my plan in motion.
Late that afternoon, I arrive at Corinne’s hotel with a hard heart, ready to drive an even harder bargain. I raise my fist to knock on her door—a different one than last night.
Everything is in place.
Sneaking around this thoroughly average resort makes me feel like a pariah. I’ve resorted to disguising myself in an LA Dodgers ball cap, an overlarge blue T-shirt, and a pair of shorts with flip-flops. Coupled with my aviators, I blend in with all the other tourists who have come to the island to kick back.
But I’m ready to kick ass.
Corinne opens the door, dressed in a vacation-approved sundress. I’ve seen a ton of these, especially since I moved to Maui.
I’ve never seen one that made my jaw drop.
It’s simple, pale yellow cotton with vivid pink and blue flowers and a flirty ruffle at the hem. But that’s where the garment’s resemblance to a typical sundress ends. The figure-hugging wraparound hangs just above mid-thigh—except where the two halves meet in the middle, mere inches below her pussy, exposing a long expanse of gorgeous legs. The straps perched on her shoulders are tied in thin, floppy bows. If I pluck on those strings and give a little tug, she’d be next to naked.
The thought makes me instantly hard.
Goddamn it, her body isn’t what I should be focused on.
“Hi,” she murmurs. “I thought you were going to call.”
I need her off guard. “Can I come in?”
“Okay.” As she steps back, she fidgets like she’s nervous.
She should be. I won’t take no for an answer.
Corinne shuts the door behind me. “Nice disguise.”
“I can’t go anywhere looking like me.”
“Not unless you want a lot of attention.”
“And I don’t. Were you hung over this morning?”
“No. Water and ibuprofen did the trick. I won’t be drinking that much tonight—or for a long time.” Her smile is self-deprecating. “I guess you’re the reason the hotel suddenly decided to upgrade me to a suite last night?”
“Your room was too small. You needed space to work. I made a phone call.”
“Why?”
Obviously, I need her cooperation if I’m going to dig out of this PR hole and get revenge. Despite that, and the fact she’s Parker’s sister, I can’t deny that I like her. She’s plucky, interesting, and sexy as fuck.
“Why not?” I shrug. “Do you like it?”
“Who wouldn’t like an ocean-view suite? I slept better last night without listening to that boiler grinding and sputtering. And I got a lot of work done today, since I had enough space to spread out and organize. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I came with a proposition. I think I’ve found a way we can help each other.”
“Good.” She wanders toward the seating area. “How are you, you know, now that the movie is out?”
Naturally, she’s read the bullshit press, too.
“More pissed off than I was yesterday.”
“And more determined than ever to have revenge?”
“Do you blame me?”
She sidesteps my question. “If loaning me money to help me succeed in spite of my brother isn’t enough retribution, what would be?”
“I’d rather sit and talk about my idea.”
“All right.” She perches in a tastefully floral chair in the sitting area with stunning views of the resort’s lush foliage, swimming pools, and the Pacific beyond.
I choose the sofa beside her and waste no time. “Have your goals changed since you walked into my office yesterday morning?”
“No. I can’t give up my business just because my brother thinks he knows better.”
I’ve wondered a dozen times how Parker thinks she’s going to manage with the resources she has, but I doubt he’s thought through that. Or cares. He’s probably too busy with his Hollywood life and too convinced he’s right. “And I’ve got some business ventures in the works that could use positive press, so let’s help each other.”
“How?”
I reach into the pocket of my shorts, withdraw a small velvet box, and pop open the lid. “Say yes…and I’ll be your fake fiancé.”
She gasps, her dark eyes going wide. “Are you crazy?”
I shake my head. “Determined.”
Her stare bounces from the three carats of princess-cut diamond I picked up an hour ago to my face. “Is that real?”
“Yes. The jeweler merely lent it to me, so don’t lose it. I’d rather not have to cough up a hundred grand.”