Wicked & Willing

Fate had stepped in to make his decision a simple one. Max Longotti, an old friend of his late grandfather, had told Troy’s grandmother he was thinking of selling his nationally known catalog company. He wanted the Langtrees to consider buying it. To that end, he asked Troy to come work with him at his Atlanta headquarters for a few months, so the board could get to know him before Max asked them to vote on the sale.

Troy had leapt at the chance. He’d closed up his beachfront condo and driven to Georgia. Max Longotti, a crotchety old soul who reminded Troy of his grandfather, had welcomed Troy into his own home until he could find another place. He’d be moving into a furnished apartment in a few days. Until then, the Longotti estate was quite comfortable—if large and rather deserted.

One thing Troy had learned so far during his brief stay in Atlanta…Max Longotti was a lonely man. A rich, lonely man who seemed surrounded by scavengers just waiting for him to kick the bucket so they could sink their claws into his money. Troy shook his head in disgust.

Remembering Max had mentioned he’d be in late in the afternoon due to a doctor’s appointment, Troy glanced at his watch, noting it was nearly four. He should have just enough time to read over the marketing projections for the latest sales circular before meeting with Max at the end of the day.

He reached for it, but froze when something else—a bright flash of red outside—caught his eye.

A woman. “Who the devil…” He stood, walking toward the sliding glass door which lead out to the small balcony. A nice touch, the balcony. Troy had become accustomed to sitting outdoors when he had reading to do or reports to peruse.

Obviously no one had come through his office, so the intruder had to have come out the other door, which exited off Max’s. Knowing Max hadn’t yet arrived, he wondered why the older man’s efficient secretary had left the woman alone. And, more importantly, why was she here to begin with? Watching her out the glass, he doubted she was here on business.

The woman had to be tall. She sat in one of the two tasteful, wrought-iron chairs, her long legs crossed and her feet resting on the waist-high balcony railing. She seemed completely unconcerned about losing her slip-on sandal, as she tapped her toe against the air in some unheard rhythm. The heel of the shoe swung against her bare foot as it dangled ten stories above Peachtree Street.

Troy followed every swing of her foot, nearly spotlighted in the sunlight. Her open sandals revealed bright red-polished toenails and a splotch of color—a tattoo—just above her right ankle. Definitely not here on business.

He continued to stare. Her legs, completely bare, went on forever. And ever. Troy swallowed hard as he studied the smooth skin of her calf, the slimness of her pale thighs. Her tiny jean shorts interrupted his visual assessment of her legs. His gaze skimmed past them to the clingy white tank top she wore, which hugged a generously curved chest.

His heart skipped a beat.

Then he saw her face, complete with full lips and a pert nose. Long lashes rested on her cheeks since her eyes were closed. And her thick mass of auburn hair caught the sunlight and shone like red-hot flames.

Seeing her lips move, and her head nodding in rhythm with her tapping foot, he leaned closer to the door. Even through the glass, he could make out the words she was singing.

“B-b-b-b-ba-ad. I’m bad to the bone.”

The sudden rush of familiar heat as his libido returned in full force brought a smile to Troy’s lips. Reaching for the handle of the door, he nearly sighed in relief. He hadn’t felt this good for a long time. Three months, to be exact.

“Thank you, God,” he whispered.

Now it was time to meet the woman who’d so effortlessly awakened him from his long, sexless sleep.

2

“HELLO, ATLANTA. Scarlett has come to pay a visit,” Venus Messina murmured to the sky as she reclined on the balcony of the high-rise office building. “Aunt Pitty, hide the silver. And Rhett, if you’re out there, call me, baby.”

She closed her eyes, thinking she could almost fall asleep in this bright patch of sunlight. Considering the whirlwind of her life over the past seventy-two hours, she supposed it wasn’t surprising. She hadn’t gotten much sleep lately.

If anyone had suggested last week that within days she’d be in another state, preparing to meet a man who may or may not be her grandfather, she’d have laughed in his face. Or, more likely, cut him off, taken his keys and called a cab.

Yet here she was.

Leaving had been remarkably easy. Joe had insisted he could do without her at Flanagan’s. She’d also arranged for her best friend, Lacey, to look after her spoiled cat and her half-dead houseplants. The cat she wanted to come home to. The plants she didn’t really care about—but Venus didn’t like to admit defeat, and if those dumb ferns were going to die, they would do it at her hand. Lacey would probably have them all healthy and blooming by the time she got back, anyway, just the way she had when she’d lived next door to Venus in their Baltimore apartment complex.

Venus had missed her friend since she’d moved out a year ago. If Lacey were still her neighbor, she probably would have gotten Venus to spill the truth about this trip. Since Lacey was a newlywed, though, it hadn’t been hard to keep her in the dark. Lacey was easily distracted by any question about her much-adored spouse, Nate.

Venus wiggled in her chair slightly, the wrought iron hard against her backside. “Pool boy, bring me a froufrou drink and a more comfortable chaise lounge,” she whispered with a grin.

A beach vacation would have been nice. But she had a feeling she was going to like Atlanta, especially with the way things had been going in Baltimore.

She hadn’t had a second thought when she’d deposited Leo Gallagher’s five-thousand-dollar check, nor when she’d taken a cab to the airport and boarded a plane heading south this morning. Venus still hadn’t figured Mr. Gallagher out yet. Either he was one heck of a nice nephew who really wanted to see his uncle happy…which she doubted. Or he was running some kind of scam…which seemed more likely. What her part in the scheme was, she really couldn’t say. And for five grand—which would go a long way toward rent, not to mention summer clothes for the foster kids back in Jersey—she wasn’t asking many questions.

After all, she wasn’t doing anything illegal. She’d simply agreed to visit this Longotti guy for one week, to explore the possibility that she was his long-lost granddaughter. Just because she personally had serious doubts that she was—and didn’t particularly want to be—did not mean it was entirely impossible. The odds were better than, say, getting struck by lightning. Or winning the lottery.

Or finding a nice guy who wanted to get married and have a house in the suburbs and a few babies before Venus was too old to enjoy them. She sighed at that cheery thought.

Anyway, whatever Gallagher was up to was on his head, not hers. She was just along for the ride. A well-paid ride.

She had, however, been curious enough to call her foster mother and ask her about the birth certificate. Maureen had told her she’d lost the original in the break-in, but had also said the Child Welfare Agency had forwarded a box of things after Venus had turned eighteen. Confirming she still had the box somewhere, she told Venus she’d mail it to her in Baltimore.

Nearly purring in the warmth of the sun, Venus began to hum, then to sing, a favorite old rock-and-roll song that fit her mood perfectly. When she heard the soft slide of a glass door opening, however, she stopped singing and opened her eyes. She expected to see Leo, accompanied by an old man.

She was almost afraid to look. Would his face seem familiar? Would his smile look like her own? Would he see something in her that reminded him of his long-lost son?

Stop it, Venus. It’s not true and you know it.

When she saw a younger man standing there instead, her heart raced faster, anyway.

Good lord, they grew men well in the south!

Shading her eyes with her hand, she studied the stranger in the gray suit. A guy in a tie. Her first impulse should have been to leap off the balcony in self-preservation. But somehow, after months of relative apathy when it came to men, Venus remembered what she so very much liked about them.

Just about everything.

Besides, she was in Atlanta for one week only. How much damage could even a guy in a tie do in one little week?

First things first—was he tall enough to meet her number-one requirement on her man list? At just a smidge under six feet herself, Venus never went for guys she’d tower over in spike-heeled do-me shoes. A girl had to have her priorities.

All lean, muscled male wrapped up in an elegantly tailored package, this man obviously stood a few inches over six feet tall. Meets height requirement. Check.

He was also dark-haired, another personal preference. His thick, chestnut-brown hair was cut conservatively, but ruffled a bit in the strong breeze blowing between the high-rise buildings. It would probably be tousled like that when he woke up in the morning.

Her mouth went dry. She swallowed and continued staring.

His face was magazine-model handsome. Lean jaw, straight, strong nose. Heavily lashed to-die-for eyes the color of springtime leaves. And one of the most kissable mouths she’d ever seen on a guy.

Kissing was one of her personal favorite things to do, and got her vote for being the all-around best activity for the mouth. It ranked even higher than eating rich, dark chocolate, which was probably in her top five. As for the rest of the list…well, that was flexible, depending on her mood, the time of the month and her romantic status. With someone like this incredible man, however, she could definitely picture the possibilities. She nearly moaned at the image.

Her gaze moved lower, to his left hand. No ring.

Perfect.

“Good afternoon,” she said lazily, her mouth widening in welcome, a signal no man alive could miss.

He smiled back just as lazily, just as aware. Those eyes darkened and his smile faded as they stared at each other for a long, heady moment. Then, taking his cue from her, he expressed not a hint of surprise about finding a strange, casually dressed woman sunning herself out here on the balcony. “Good afternoon to you. Enjoying the sunshine?”

She nodded and turned her face to the sky, drawing in a deep breath. “Love it.”