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And when I handed her back her black lace panties and saw the flush in her cheeks, I couldn’t stop myself from fantasizing about how good it would feel to slide them down her slender legs.

Little did I know the reality was even better than the fantasy.

The elevator ride was pure torture, surrounded by her sweet scent.

Still, I resisted the urge. I was on my best behavior.

And when I walked back through the lobby after dinner at Vic’s last night, I saw her sitting there, people-watching, sipping her drink like a perfect lady.

The temptation to walk up and buy her another was overwhelming. But the last thing I wanted to do was lose focus and fall into bed with a beautiful stranger.

But that’s what I did. Screw things up by thinking with my dick.

What I always do according to my grandfather—or should I say, my boss. He definitely acts like the latter. As the owner and CEO of Holden Media, he’s a businessman first, grandfather second.

All I ever wanted was to prove to him that I’m worth a damn, but when the task seemed impossible, I did my best to live up to the playboy he painted me as.

I’ve had plenty of one-night stands. But something about Sunny was different.

I had no idea taking a piss would turn my night to shit.

But there it was in the bathroom. Staring me right in the face.

A ring. But not just any ring.

I know enough about jewelry to know what an engagement ring looks like.

Even a tacky one.

My reputation might precede me, but even I have morals, and I don’t fuck around with married women.

I shove my clothes into the suitcase with more force than necessary, each movement fueled by a mix of anger and something else… something I’m reluctant to examine too closely. It’s not just about packing; it’s about trying to erase the images from last night, the feel of her body against mine, the way we seemed to click into place. She’s like a drug I hadn’t known I was craving until now, and it’s unsettling.

My phone buzzes for the umpteenth time. Grandfather. I don’t even need to look at the caller ID to know. I silence it with a sharp tap of my finger, not in the mood to hear about expectations or legacies. Right now, I’m too busy having my own little pity party, guest list: one.

This whole trip, what’s at stake. No doubt in my mind… this is a test. That’s my grandfather’s specialty. Sink or swim. People are usually tested to join the ranks at their family company, to at least make it look good on paper. Not here at Holden Media.

“As long as my name is on that building, son, I’ll do as I damn well please.” I hear it on repeat in my mind because if I’ve heard it once, I’ve heard it a thousand times. Almost as many times as I’ve been reminded that it’s not my last name.

My mother was a Holden. Only child of the infamous media mogul Alastair Edward Holden II, until he buried her and it broke him. He’d already lost his wife, but losing his daughter must have snapped something in him. I’d hate to think he was always as cold and shrewd as the man who raised me. Then again, boarding school raised me. The old man’s idea of grieving was to go out and get himself a new family.

He didn’t look far though. His gold-digging secretary popped out the golden boy, Alastair Edward Holden III. All these years later, and he can still make me feel three feet tall with a look.

The only reason I’m even on this assignment in the first place is because he’s threatening to fuck with the one thing I do give a damn about—my mother… or what’s left of her legacy.

Lord knows I haven’t done a good job in her shadow. He gave me her old job, along with one year to take it from red to black. But I never dreamed he was serious about the timeline. With the board watching my every move, my grandfather breathing down my neck, and my asshole uncle looking for ammunition to use against me, I had to pull my head out of my ass and save this deal.

Family and business don’t mix. Good thing I’ll never have a family of my own to have to worry about it.

I’m never getting married and definitely don’t plan on having a kid. Not after knowing the pain losing someone you love causes. Or how badly you can screw up another person with your bad choices. Nope, not me.

Bachelor for life.

But it doesn’t mean I want to be alone. I just don’t want the complication that comes with more.

Sunny was definitely a complication.

So why do I feel empty instead of numb like I usually do after mind-blowing sex with a gorgeous woman I hardly know?