Fortune's Prince Charming

He didn’t see himself settling down and he didn’t want to get back in the rat race of juggling multiple women—or making false promises to one woman, for that matter.

An image of Zoe with her beautiful, trusting smile popped into his head. Sure, he could date her. But he knew that was not what she wanted. Women like Zoe didn’t take things casually.

There were too many odds stacked against them. Add in the fact that she was the boss’s daughter and the tidbit about his not wanting to get serious right now—hell, he didn’t even know where he’d be after this project wrapped up—and garnish it with the huge secret he knew about her father. A relationship with Zoe would never work.

He detested cheating and cheaters.

Not that he was such a do-gooder. Before he’d proposed to Selena, he’d done some things he wasn’t proud of. He knew the damage deception like that could cause, and he didn’t want to cause anyone that pain.

As he approached his colleagues, he shook his head to clear his thoughts. Because why was he even thinking about such ridiculous things as dating Zoe Robinson? Things like getting to know her better. Spending time with her. Kissing her—not to mention going to the places that kisses usually led.

She was the first person who saw him as he entered the pavilion. Her eyes flashed as she smiled and waved at him.

She looked adorable and bright and stylish in her pink shorts and orange top. Her dark hair was pulled back from her face with a pink-and-orange headband.

No matter the occasion, Zoe always looked as though she’d stepped out of a magazine. Not in a high-fashion sense, but in a fresh, cute, girl-next-door way.

He couldn’t help but smile back at her, but he stopped short of going over and standing with her.

Yep, the only thing telling her what he’d witnessed would accomplish was heartbreak. He looked away.

Forget dating; this was precisely why Joaquin hated getting involved with his colleagues on a personal level. Knowing things about them. Now, every time he looked at Zoe, he would remember he was keeping a secret from her.

“Good morning, Joaquin,” Steffi-Anne said. “Your timing is perfect. We are just getting ready to break into pairs and begin our first game. So, if you’ll join group B over there under the pavilion, we’ll get started.”

Steffi-Anne called everyone to order.

“We’re going to have a scavenger hunt,” she said. “Each person in group A will draw a name out of this bag.”

She held up a small brown bag with handles, the kind that you got when you purchased something in one of those fancy department stores.

“This will match you with your partner in group B. Zoe, how about if you start us off by drawing the first name?” Steffi-Anne smiled at Zoe, but the sentiment didn’t seem to make it all the way to her eyes.

Joaquin had the sinking feeling she was up to something. The woman always had an agenda.

* * *

As Zoe reached into the bag to pull out a name, her gaze drifted over to Joaquin. He looked so darn good in those jeans and that white T-shirt. The color of the shirt showed off his tan, and the jeans weren’t tight, but they hugged his butt in the most perfect way. It made her want to squeeze his buns to see if they really were as firm as they looked.

The naughty thought made her smile. How wonderful it would be if she pulled his name. Since she was the first to draw, she had a chance of being paired with him. However, since there were so many names to choose from, the odds were stacked against her.

She reached in and let her hand sift through the dozens of names handwritten on small slips of paper, willing her fingers to pull the golden ticket that read Joaquin Mendoza.

When Joaquin’s gorgeous brown gaze connected with hers, it was like a lightning strike and she grabbed a piece of paper, sure it was the right choice.

She held her breath as she pulled it into the daylight and read, “Sissy Hanson.”

Ugh. Sissy from accounting? No! Couldn’t she have a do-over? No disrespect to Sissy. She was nice enough, but she wasn’t Joaquin.

As Sissy came over to stand with her, Zoe did her best not to act disappointed. It would be fine. As long as Steffi-Anne didn’t end up with him.

It took about five minutes before everyone had chosen a partner. Each time Joaquin’s name wasn’t called, putting him one step closer to Steffi-Anne, the tension in Zoe’s chest wound a notch tighter.

Joaquin still hadn’t been paired up by the time there were just two people left: Steffi-Anne and Jill Winski, who was the second-to-last person to draw.

After Jill drew a name, she knit her brows and looked into the bag. “I think we may be short a name. It felt like I pulled the last slip of paper.”

“We should be fine,” Steffi-Anne said a bit too fast.

The only people left standing in Group B were Homer Martin from IT and Joaquin.

Of course.

Zoe was willing to wager that the paper caught between Jill’s forefinger and thumb read Homer Martin.

A slow burn began to simmer in Zoe’s stomach.

Jill started to turn the bag upside down, but Steffi-Anne reached out and snatched it away from her before she could, poking her pointed nose into the sack.

“No, no. Look. Right here. Here it is. There’s still one slip of paper left.”

A vaguely victorious smile curled her lips. “Joaquin, you and I are partners for the scavenger hunt.”

Oh. Well, will you look at that? What a surprise.

Before anyone could challenge the outcome, Steffi-Anne was barking orders about how they would execute the scavenger hunt, how it was important to work as a team and that there would be a nice prize for the team that won: lunch at the Copper Kettle.

As the scavenger hunt played out, Zoe noticed that the vast majority of her female coworkers were playing hard to win.

When Jill and Homer were the first to cross the finish line with their list completed, Zoe’s partner, Sissy, quipped, “You know Jill didn’t work that hard to have lunch with Homer. She did it to keep Steffi-Anne from winning the lunch with Joaquin.”

Keep-away. Was that how this retreat had digressed? It had become one big game of keep-away. Well, in the name of team-building, Zoe intended to do her part.

Pretending not to be a sore loser, Steffi-Anne herded the group right into the next activity: the three-legged race. It would be cozy to have a legit reason to stand that close to Joaquin, arms around each other, their bodies becoming one as they reached climax—er—the finish line.

The finish line.

Good grief! Where had that come from?

Okay, she knew what had inspired the inappropriate thought, but she needed to get her head under control. It said a lot about the state of her love life when a three-legged race inspired thoughts of dancing the horizontal tango.

She risked a glance at Joaquin.

Then again, who wouldn’t be inspired by him?

Heat began at the base of her neck and worked its way up to the tips of her ears. She took a deep breath to cool herself down before anyone noticed.

Yes, she had it bad for Joaquin Mendoza. So was she just going to stand around blushing over the predicament or was she going to do something about it?