Private Sessions

Multi-award-winning, bestselling authors Lori Schlachter Karayianni and Tony Karayianni are the power behind the pen name Tori Carrington. Their over forty-five titles include numerous Blaze® mini-series, as well as the ongoing Sofie Metropolis comedic mystery series with another publisher. Visit www.toricarrington.net and www.sofiemetro.com for more information on the duo and their titles.

Private Sessions

Tori Carrington

Dear Reader,

There’s just something about a strong, bad-boy hero who can rock a business suit, isn’t there? He may try to conceal his true character, but once you get this guy between the sheets … oh, my!

Private Sessions is the first in our three-book PRIVATE SCANDALS series and focuses on hot businessman Caleb Payne, who embodies all of what bad boys are made of. He knows exactly what it takes to get what he wants; especially when it comes to sexy Bryna Metaxas, who not only provides an opportunity to glean a bit of enjoyment out of the disaster that is Caleb’s current business life, but to wreak a bit of revenge. But there are some sins that are unforgivable. Has he finally gone too far?

We hope you enjoy every sizzling, heart-stopping moment of Caleb and Bryna’s journey toward happily-ever-after. We’d love to hear what you think. Contact us at PO Box 12271, Toledo, OH 43612, USA (we’ll respond with a signed bookplate, newsletter and bookmark), or visit us on the web at www.toricarrington.net.

Here’s wishing you love, romance and HOT reading,

Lori & Tony Karayianni aka Tori Carrington

We dedicate this book to bad-boy-loving women

everywhere …

And to Julie Chivers and editor extraordinaire

Brenda Chin: you guys rock!

Table of Contents

Cover

About the Author

Title Page

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Epilogue

Copyright

Prologue

“GREAT SEX IS NOT ENOUGH for me, Caleb. Not anymore.”

Damn. There it was …

Caleb Payne stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse apartment, his attention not on the reflection of the beautiful woman who had uttered the words, but on the sight beyond the glass. Seattle’s skyline twinkled against the inky late-night backdrop. His fingers tightened around the crystal tumbler that held an inch of the best whiskey the civilized world had to offer. He downed the smooth liquid in one swallow and then slowly dragged the back of his hand against his mouth, finally considering Cissy’s image in the window.

How was it possible such an attractive woman suddenly emerged unappealing? Despite the low-cut, curve-hugging long red dress she wore, her white-blond hair floating around her smooth shoulders, he wanted to look everywhere but at her.

His gaze fell to her full breasts. Correction: he wanted to look everywhere but into her pleading, hopeful face.

She instinctively crossed her arms, impeding his view.

“Sex is all I have to give you.” Caleb slowly turned, considering her reaction from beneath his brows. “I told you that from the beginning.”

He’d seen this coming since earlier that evening, when his limo had stopped at her downtown apartment to pick her up for the charity ball they’d attended.

Actually, if he were honest, he’d seen this coming since the day they’d first met.

It gave him no pleasure to know that he’d been spot-on when it came to the timeline he’d imagined when he’d met the pretty socialite six months ago. Around about month three, she’d started talking exclusivity. Which hadn’t been a problem, considering it was in his cautious nature to stick to one sexual partner at a time. Month four brought talk of combining households, a conversation he’d artfully avoided.

And tonight, a week before the end of month six, she had launched her plan for even more.

“I’ve never lied to you, Cissy,” he told her now. “You knew the score from the beginning.”

“But things change. People change.”

He shook his head. “Not me. Never me.”

Pain crumpled her face, an emotion that left him unmoved.

He wondered if she’d say the words countless others had said before her and call him a heartless bastard.

If she did, she’d be right. He’d been raised by a single mother, never knowing his father although the man had always been nearby, present without being a presence. While Caleb had never wanted for anything materially … well, one therapist he’d dated had suggested he’d been stunted emotionally by his upbringing.

He’d been a bastard child within a socio-economic class that still frowned heavily on such things. And his peers had never let him forget it.

That’s where the heartless part entered in.

Oh, Cissy might want more now, but in a week, maybe two, she’d be thankful she hadn’t been successful in her efforts. Out there somewhere was a man who would improve her standing; not detract from it.

He walked to the bar and poured another finger into his glass, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Is marriage anywhere in the cards for us?” Cissy asked quietly.

He inwardly winced.

Once, just once, he’d like to be proven wrong. He’d like to date a woman who was unpredictable. Someone who would surprise him. Someone who’d enjoy whatever moments they could spend together without planning, scheming, plotting for something more.

Someone who wouldn’t want something he was incapable of giving.

He shook his head. “No.”

He heard her moving around. Imagined her picking up her wrap. Checking inside her purse. Perhaps getting a tissue with which to wipe her nose. Then stalking toward the front door.

“Well, then, I guess this is goodbye.” Her voice was half accusatory, half hopeful.

He nodded again without turning. “Goodbye, Cissy.”

Silence. Long moments later the door closed behind her. Caleb downed the whiskey, tapping his fingers against the expensive crystal. Shame. He’d liked Cissy. She’d been nice to have around. Nice to have in his bed.

He sighed and then headed for his home office and the only thing that never asked him for anything more, that never complained or questioned or demanded, or failed to hold his fascination: work.

1

THE MORE THINGS CHANGED, the more they stayed the same.

Bryna Metaxas weighed the old axiom, feeling exasperated by her job, by the current stagnancy of her love life—or, rather, the lack of one at all—and frustrated by everything in general.

She sat in her small office at the old lumber mill where Metaxas Limited was located in Earnest, Washington, blind to the view of the lush, pine-covered hills visible through the window behind her. She was too busy trying not to think about the weekly Tuesday meeting she’d attended that morning where she’d been marginalized yet again. She couldn’t help wondering why her older cousin Troy included her if he wasn’t going to have her do anything more substantial than take notes and follow up on minor details. She was half-surprised that he hadn’t asked her to serve coffee to the dozen attendees while they brainstormed ideas on where to go now that the deal they’d been working on with Greek billionaire Manolis Philippidis had fallen through.

Fallen through. Now, that was a print-ready description for what had happened. Disaster would be more fitting.

Bryna drew in a deep breath. How long had she been working at the company? Nearly two years. And while every six months she was given a positive review and her salary was increased incrementally, she was doing basically the same mundane tasks she had done since the day she hired on.

At any other company she would have quit long ago. But this was a family operation … and she was part of the family.

Besides, as a resident of Earnest, she had a vested interest in seeing the plan succeed for the good of the community. Hell, she’d minored in green energy at university and had a better working knowledge of the emerging technology than either of her cousins.

Bryna sighed and pushed her straight black hair back from her face. On her desk sat three different versions of a proposal—variants on the original she’d put together months ago, but had never seen the top of her cousin’s in-box. A proposal she’d thought stood a chance when the Philippidis debacle happened. But, no. If anything, Troy was even less interested in looking at her ideas. No matter how many bricks walls he continually ran into.

Ultimately, she’d decided she’d have to fly solo.

It was just after eleven and she’d been at the old family mill offices since six, moths fluttering their wings against the walls of her stomach at the thought of going this alone. If some of that wild flapping was also associated with the very attractive person she’d decided to approach first … well, she wasn’t admitting to it, beyond allowing that it had been a while since she’d enjoyed male attention … and this particular hot, single male not only appeared skilled in that specific area, he was renowned for it.

At any rate, if her plan worked the way she hoped, she’d be a major player in the business rather than the second fiddle to which she’d been relegated.

Of course, if her cousins Troy and his younger brother Ari found out what she was up to, they’d probably fire her sorry butt on the spot, family ties be damned.

She heard Troy’s voice in the hall outside her door. Bryna quickly put another file on top of the proposals and picked up a pen, pretending interest in the routine accounting job she’d been given to do the day before.

“Hey, Bry,” Troy said, leaning against the doorjamb the way he always did.

Everything that the gossips said about both of her cousins was true. They were powerful and impossibly good-looking, walking, talking Greek gods, a double whammy to any single female within grinning distance.

Of course, Ari was no longer on the market. And Troy …

“You look like shit,” she said.

And he did. It was the height of summer and he looked pale as a ghost. And tired beyond what any amount of sleep could cure.

The reason for that was closely tied into Ari’s change in bachelor status. A month ago the two brothers had traveled to Greece, not so much for the Philippidis wedding, but to close the deal with the wealthy groom that would put the company on a fast track. And save Earnest, the old mill town that they all called home that had recently chalked up a twenty-five percent unemployment rate, the highest in its hundred-year history.

Needless to say, the deal hadn’t gone through. Not through any fault of Troy’s. Rather, Ari’s infatuation with the bride had resulted in the collapse of not only the deal, but contributed to the downward spiral of what was left of the company itself.

And that broke Bryna’s heart. Metaxas Limited was a true family business. Troy … well, what would he do without the company his grandfather and then father built? He lived, ate and breathed ML. The cash flow reflected his blood flow.

Both Troy and Ari were much more than cousins to her: they were her brothers. She’d been an only child until she was twelve and the Cessna her father had been flying had crashed, killing him and her mother as they’d been returning from a weekend trip to San Francisco. Her father’s brother had generously provided a home for her along with his two sons, his own wife having died long ago.

It hadn’t been easy being the only female in a house full of males. But it had been interesting. She remembered the first time she’d brought a boy home to “study,” when she was fifteen. Troy and Ari had invited Dale Whitman out back for a talk after they’d caught him and Bryna enjoying a first kiss over their chemistry books. When Dale hadn’t returned to the dining room within ten minutes, she went looking for him. And found him trussed up by his ankles, suspended from a branch of the old oak tree out back.

Her cousins had scared him so badly that not only had he not returned, no other boyfriend had dared show up at the Metaxas estate again, the ankle story having taken on a life of its own and grown to mythological proportions that would do the Greeks proud.

And this company was their Mount Olympus.

Which is why Bryna had decided it was long past time she took action to defend and protect the same.

Her cousin chuckled quietly at her comment and rubbed his freshly shaven chin. “Gee, thanks. Exactly what I needed to hear this morning.”

Bryna grimaced. “Just calling ‘em as I see ‘em.”

“Yeah, well, maybe that’s one of the reasons why you haven’t earned that promotion you’ve been angling for.”

“Oh, so unfair. I’m speaking to you cousin to cousin now. Not employer to employee.”

“And the difference in the Land of Bryna?”

She flashed him a bright smile. “I’d be much nicer if we weren’t related.”

She successfully concealed her true reaction to her recent promotion denial. She wanted to be included on an equal level, damn it. Was that too much to ask? Okay, so she was only twenty-four. But she’d graduated summa cum laude from WSU with her master’s in business administration. And she was up to the task.

She’d even told them she didn’t need a hike in salary. Just give her anything that was above junior associate, essentially a glorified office assistant, and she’d be happy.

Troy had told her no. Again. That the company was putting a freeze on all promotions for the time being.

She’d half expected him to ruffle her hair and tell her to go out and play like a good girl.

She needed to convince him that she wasn’t their cute little cousin anymore. Or merely their cute little cousin; she had no intention of giving up her special spot in the family.

Troy said, “If that were true, I’d give you the promotion in a blink.”

She twisted her lips. “I’m never going to live down that Bainwright incident, am I?”

“Bainwright incident? Oh, wait. Yes, now I remember.” He shook his finger at her. “Maybe it’s just me, but dumping the contents of a water pitcher in a supplier’s lap during a meeting is not exactly good work etiquette.”

“Neither is his copping a feel while I was pouring his water.”

“He said it was an honest mistake.”

“An honest mistake would be if he’d removed the hand in question the moment it made contact. Not leave it there and give a couple of squeezes for good measure.”

She remembered the slimy man’s fingers on her breast and gave an involuntary shudder.

Troy sighed heavily. “When you realize that perhaps you could have handled the situation more diplomatically, maybe then we’ll have another talk about that promotion.”

Bryna sat back, prepared to say something along the lines of “So I suppose offering him my other breast for a tweak would have been preferable.”

Instead, her gaze fell on the files on her desk. More specifically, on the proposals that she was scheduled to pitch to none other than Manolis Philippidis’s principal consultant in …

“Oh, my God, is that the time?” Bryna launched herself from her chair.

Troy blinked at her. “What, do you have an appointment?”

“Yes,” she confirmed, pulling on her suit jacket and buttoning the front. “Yes, I do.”

“May I ask with whom?”

She struck a pose. “With the hairdresser in Seattle. Would you like to attend, act as my wingman?”

He chuckled. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

“You may want to rethink that. You could probably use a good spray tan.”

She discreetly stuffed the proposals into her briefcase and began to pass him.

“Very funny.”

“See you later, then.”

“Since it’s Tuesday, why don’t you just stay there? Come back on Sunday?”

Her usual schedule was to head to her small apartment in Seattle every Wednesday night, spend two days working from there, then return home to the Metaxas estate Sunday morning for brunch, starting the cycle over again.

“No, I’ll be coming back this afternoon,” she told him.

As Bryna headed toward the old steel stairs and the parking lot beyond the mill doors, she wasn’t sure which bothered her more: that she was nervous as hell, or that Troy hadn’t even thought twice about her leaving in the middle of the morning.

Just went to show you how much her cousin really thought of her and her work ethic.

She smiled to herself. If everything went the way she planned, that would all change soon enough….

2

TO THE VICTOR THE SPOILS….

Caleb knew who Bryna Metaxas was. She was related to the same man indirectly responsible for the collapse of his latest business deal. But given the fact that his position or personal wealth hadn’t been impacted, he was still the victor.

And she was very definitely the spoils. Because he had absolutely no interest in pursuing anything of a business nature with her.

They’d met once. During a meeting at Metaxas Limited. While Manolis Philippidis had droned on about a catch in the contract, Caleb had allowed himself to appreciate Bryna’s remarkable beauty. The type of looker who would be right at home sunning herself on one of Philippidis’s yachts, a white, barely there bikini playing up her physical assets, large sunglasses perched on her petite nose, her long, dark hair combed back while a formally clad waiter served her a dirty martini. He remembered thinking that she could easily challenge any of the goddesses her Greek ancestry boasted on the sexy meter. Why she would ever want to be associated with her loser cousins was an intriguing mystery to him. Especially since whatever ideas she’d proffered were immediately squashed by her cousin Troy, her thoughtful frown as he did so making her all the more appealing.

And she looked even better now, staring up at him with a wide smile.

Although for the record he’d prefer to see her in that barely there bikini rather than in the too-stern navy blue suit she had on.

He openly appreciated the pretty young woman who’d stormed his office after he’d made her wait for half an hour. She was a little on the young side. He was maybe a decade her senior. But if his recent experiences had taught him anything, it was that seeing women closer to his own age came with baggage he was no longer interested in carrying. Biological clocks and measuring sticks were tucked in their designer handbags, always nearby, always dictating their actions.

Bryna was young and had yet to hear the distant ticking. And her handbag of choice appeared to be a briefcase.

The fact that she was a member of the Metaxas family added a certain illicit appeal to her attraction quotient. It had been Ari Metaxas who sank one of his prized deals. Oh, not the business proposal that bit the dust with Philippidis’s marriage plans. But the contract Caleb had been working on for two years with a Dubai company that would have resulted in one of the largest conglomerates currently operating today.

The same contract that Philippidis’s single-minded lust for revenge against Metaxas and his unfaithful bride had mucked up beyond repair.

“Thanks for taking my appointment,” Bryna said, moving her briefcase from one hand to the other and then extending her right.

“No problem.” Was her skin really that soft? Caleb shamelessly held on to the feminine digits, rubbing his thumb slowly along the back.

He watched her pupils grow large in her dark green irises at the unabashed liberty he took. But rather than immediately try to pull away, she held his gaze, allowing the fiery spark that ignited between them to flare, running from her skin over to his. The heat sped downward and settled pleasantly in his groin.

He allowed himself a moment to imagine removing that barely there bikini in his fantasy to leave her fully bare …

Bryna cleared her throat and slowly withdrew her hand, taking the sexy image with her.

“I have three proposals I’d like to submit to you,” she said, sitting in one of the two high-backed visitor’s chairs and putting her case down at her crossed ankles. Slender, shapely ankles that drew his attention. She took documents out of her briefcase and held them out to him.

He made no move to take them. Instead, he permitted his gaze to rake up her calves to where the hem of her skirt had hiked up to just above her pleasing knees.

Bryna placed the proposals on the desk he stood next to.

“I’m sure that once you’ve had a chance to review them, you’ll see that a partnership with Metaxas Limited would be in everyone’s best interest.”

Having her open her knees a little wider would be in his best interest. Would she be wearing plain white panties, he wondered. Black? Red? Or would she surprise him by going commando?

The idea nudged his temperature gauge up more than a few notches.

He lifted his telltale gaze back to her face. “Does Troy know you’re here?”

He’d met both brothers on several occasions, but he’d gotten the distinct impression that the elder was in charge of all business dealings. And a control freak. Much like he, himself, was.

He was intrigued by the way Bryna avoided his gaze.

If he were to guess, he’d say that no one was aware that she was there.

Caleb knew himself well enough to recognize his growing attraction to the young woman sitting in his visitor’s chair. And judging by her reaction when they’d touched, he knew it would be all too easy to draw her into a sexual liaison. A few carefully placed caresses, whispered words, and she’d melt like butter on his toast.

The telecom buzzed.

His secretary. He’d instructed her to interrupt the meeting at minute five.

The problem lay in that he wasn’t all too sure he wanted to end his time with Bryna Metaxas.

“Excuse me,” he said.

“Sure. Go ahead.”

He picked up the phone and listened for a moment, his gaze roving hungrily over Bryna’s soft curves, before hanging up.

“I’m sorry,” he said, going for feigned reluctance and surprised to actually be feeling it. “But there appears to be an overseas call I really must take.”

She twisted lips that were full and lush and made for a man’s kiss. “Of course.” She got up from the chair. “I’m grateful for the time you’ve extended me. Just give my office a call when you’ve had a chance to review the proposals so we can set up another meeting.” She began to turn away, then lifted a finger and swiveled back. Her mouth was slightly open, as if prepared to say something, but his expression—which he was sure revealed his naked interest in her—must have caused her to hesitate.

Her pink tongue darted out and moistened those provocative lips.