Just then the car stopped. “We’ve arrived,” the chauffeur said.

Nick slid across the seat until his thigh pressed against hers. “There’s really only one thing you need to know.”

Jessie swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “What’s that?”

“You’re going to be the most beautiful woman in the room.”

That was so far away from what she’d expected to hear she wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly.

The heat in his sapphire gaze pinned her to the spot. He bent his head down toward hers and her pulse jumped in response. He hovered centimeters away, his eyes still locked on hers.

“I want you more than I’ve wanted anything in a very long time,” he said. “But if you get in my way I’ll still crush you like a bug.”

Dear Reader

I’ve had a girl crush on Jessie since I first met her while writing ALL’S FAIR IN LUST & WAR. She burst into my brain fully formed and already begging for her own story.

But that didn’t make this book easy to write. Jessie, you see, is very particular. She knows exactly what she will and won’t do. And when I wrote something she didn’t like she would stomp off to some remote corner of my brain, refusing to come out until I promised to fix it.

The resulting story is one I know you’ll love. Jessie is now the owner of her own boutique ad agency in New York City, and when we join her she’s on top of the world. She’s determined to rule the ad biz—and love is not in her plans.

But, as we all know, even the best-laid plans get blown to smithereens when the right man walks in. Nick is the perfect match for Jessie—smart, powerful, and devastatingly handsome (not to mention a fabulous kisser). In fact he has just one flaw—he wants to own her business.

Documenting the fireworks between them was great fun—but hopefully not nearly as much as reading about them will be!

I hope you love Jessie and Nick as much as I do by the time you’re done. And I hope you’ll join me online to chat about them! My internet home is www.amberpagebooks.com, but you can also find me on Facebook at facebook.com/amberpagebooks, and on Twitter at @amberpagewrites.

Thank you so much for joining me on this journey!

Amber

AMBER PAGE has been writing stories since—well, since she could write, and still counts the pinning of her Bubble People tale to the classroom bulletin board in the third grade as one of her happiest childhood memories.

She’s also an avid reader, and has been addicted to romances since she first discovered them on the dusty shelves of her favourite library as a young teen. The nerdy little bookworm she was is still pinching herself to make sure that this whole ‘getting published’ thing is real.

When not penning happily-ever-afters, Amber works as an advertising writer in the heart of Indiana, where she lives with the love of her life, their daughter, and a menagerie of furry animals. She also blogs, gardens, and sometimes even manages to sneak in a few hours of sleep.

Don’t ask her how she does it all. She’s too tired to remember.

Dating
the Enemy
Amber Page

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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To my mom and dad, who taught me to believe in my dreams—and who never stopped chasing their own.

And to my daughter, who’d better not read this for at least another ten years. Hopefully someday you’ll understand that this is why Mommy’s always so tired (and that it’s totally worth it).

Table of Contents

Cover

Excerpt

Dear Reader

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

Copyright

PROLOGUE

JESSIE HOVERED ON the edge of the dance floor, feeling strangely melancholy as she watched Becky swirl around the room in her new husband’s arms. Gone was the brittle-shelled worker bee of a year ago. In her place was a true beauty, sparkling with happiness.

It seemed her friend had found her white knight—even if he had needed a good scrubbing before his true colors showed.

Seeing her joy, Jessie found herself wishing for … something. Not a happily-ever-after, but something more substantial than the one-night affairs she usually satisfied herself with.

Unfortunately it was just her and her champagne glass this evening. Might as well drink up.

She lifted the cold glass to her lips and took a big gulp, letting the bubbles dance their way down her throat. It was good champagne. Slightly sweet, smooth as silk. A satisfied purr pushed its way out into the air before she could stop it.

A quiet, thoroughly masculine laugh sounded from beside her.

“Good champagne?” its owner asked.

Jessie looked up … and up … and up.

Towering above her was an escapee from a fashion magazine. Blond-haired, blue-eyed, with shoulders that seemed to stretch from one end of the room to the other. She smiled. Perhaps her night wouldn’t be quite so lonely after all.

“Well, it is turning out to be a more satisfying wedding date than I expected,” she said. “Good looks. Good taste. No bad dance moves.”

He laughed again, and the sound reverberated in her bones.

“And to think, I was just about to ask you to dance,” he said. “But something tells me I won’t measure up to your bubbly friend, there.”

For the first time Jessie let herself hear the music. It was slow and sexy, sung by a man who obviously knew how to get a lady out of her clothes.

She quickly downed the last of her champagne and smiled up at her companion. “Well, would you look at that? It seems he’s disappeared. Perhaps you could show me your moves before he comes back? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

“I’d be happy to,” the stranger said, and offered her his arm.

She took it and he swept her out on to the dance floor, smoothly turning her until they faced each other, with one hand nestled in the small of her back.

Jessie’s breath hitched as they started to move. This man could dance. He took control, gracefully leading her where he wanted to go, his body hovering just centimeters from hers. Jessie gave herself up to his rhythm, barely managing to keep herself from melting into a puddle of goo in his arms.

“My name’s Nick, by the way,” he said, looking down at her through his lashes.

Jessie was so lost in the hypnotic sway of his body that it took a moment to sink in. When it did, she laughed softly. “I’m Jessie,” she said. “And I hope you’ll excuse my incoherence. I’m afraid I’m not used to dancing with partners of your caliber.”

He grinned. “My father will be glad that the many months of dance lessons he forced me to take have paid off.”

“Your dad made you take dance lessons?”

“Yeah. Well, just those of the ballroom kind. We’re forced to attend an exhausting number of balls and galas and that kind of thing. It’s either dance or die of boredom.”

Jessie blinked. “I don’t think I’ve ever been invited to a ball. Are you part of one of those super-rich hotel families or something?”

He grimaced. “Nothing that glamorous. Just your average wealthy New York business clan.”

Jessie rolled her eyes. “Oh. Right. Because those are a dime a dozen.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m just glad I can give your champagne a run for its money.”

“Yep. You win.”

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet,” he said as he sent her out into a dress-twirling spin. He brought her back in a low dip and, when his face was just inches above hers, whispered, “I have all sorts of mind-boggling moves.”

Jessie was still trying to decide how to answer that when the first chords of the “Chicken Dance” began to play. The horrified look of confusion on his face made her laugh out loud.

“What? You don’t dance the ‘Chicken Dance’ at your fancy-pants balls?”

“No. Never.”

“Well, let me up and I’ll show you how it’s done.”

Nick couldn’t help but laugh as the sexy redhead who’d seemed so classy a moment ago began flapping her arms and shimmying downward. When she clucked like a chicken, he gave in to a belly laugh that shook his whole body.

“Come on,” she said. “This is no time to be shy. Let your inner chicken loose!”

He considered refusing, but when he looked around the dance floor and realized that everyone was getting into the action he thought better of it.

Seconds later he was shaking his butt and flapping his arms. This was fun. Perhaps he should recommend they include it at the next charity gala. It would certainly be amusing to see his father attempting to bawk like a chicken.

Jessie deliberately bumped his butt with her own deliciously round derrière as she swooped down into another shimmy. He bumped her back, and before long their chicken dance had devolved into a butt-bumping contest.

He drove her further and further off the dance floor with every turn, until finally they bumped into a table. She collapsed into a convenient chair, laughing hysterically.

He sat down beside her, giving in to his own fit of laughter. Every time he thought he might be able to stop he looked at her and collapsed into another laughing spree.

Finally, they were both able to catch their breath. Jessie looked at him with sparkling eyes, her pale cheeks pink with laughter. Seeing the way the fiery tendrils that had escaped from her elegant chignon brought her face to life, he couldn’t resist the urge to send more tumbling down.

He quickly picked the bobby pins out of her hair, disintegrating the up-do.

“Hey,” she said, frowning up at him. “I didn’t say you could do that.”

“I know,” he said, trying to put an apology in his smile, “but I wanted to see the real you. I’ll bet you don’t wear your hair up very often.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” she said as she ran her hands through her hair, trying to bring order to the wild mane. “I can be the quintessential businesswoman when I need to be.”

“And why would you need to do that? I had you pegged as a creative type.”

“I am. But I happen to own my own digital advertising agency. A certain amount of seriousness is required at times.”

He sat back, trying not to let her see how much she impressed him. She was certifiably hot. Incredibly funny. And an entrepreneur to boot. Man. She might just be his perfect woman.

“Hmm. I might be in need of a digital agency soon. Can I have your card?”

“I’m not in the mood to talk business tonight, but I would like to see more of you.” She raked her eyes up and down his body in an unmistakably sensuous manner. “How about I give you my room key instead?”

Every single cell in his body cried Hell, yes, but before he could answer the bride swooped down on them.

“Jessie!” she called. “Your services as maid of honor are needed!”

Jessie’s face collapsed in disappointment for a split second, but quickly rearranged itself into a smile.

“What? I held your bouquet. Wiped the ring-bearer’s spit-up from your gown. Gave a splendid toast. My job here is done!”

Becky pulled on her arm, forcing her up from the chair.

“Nuh-uh. I am about to throw my bouquet. And you, my friend, are going to be in the front row.”

“What? No way. I’m busy here.”

“Yes, way. I’m sure Nick won’t mind. You wouldn’t want her to shirk her duties … or miss her chance to catch the bouquet, would you?” she asked, giving him a pointed look.

“I don’t much care about the bouquet, but I’ll let you steal her if you promise to give me her number later,” he said.

“You got it. And I won’t even make you promise to marry her.”

“Good. I’m not the marrying kind.”

“Neither am I,” said Jessie.

Becky looked at them, a knowing expression on her face. “That’s what they all say.”

“Cut it out,” Jessie answered, swatting her playfully. “Just because you’re a blushing bride, it doesn’t mean we all want to be carried away by a knight in shining armor.”

“Whatever you say,” Becky said. Then, turning to Nick, she continued. “Just call Mark when you’re ready for Jessie’s number. He’s got it on speed dial.”

Nick watched as Becky dragged Jessie away toward a large wooden staircase and forced her to stand in the middle of the small group of women gathered there to catch the prized bunch of soon-to-be dead flowers.

The bouquet sailed through the air, heading straight for Jessie. She tried to duck, but at the last second put out her arms so it didn’t hit her in the face.

She was the chosen one.

The other women formed a tight knot around her as the groom called out, “All right, guys, it’s garter-catching time!”

Time to make his exit, Nick thought. He had no intention of getting anywhere near that garter … even if winning it meant he got to put it on Jessie’s thigh.

He headed for the door, casting one last look in Jessie’s direction. She was laughing up at Becky, the twinkling fairy lights that lit the room making her smile sparkle even brighter.

Too bad. He sure would have liked to spend the evening getting to know her better.

But they could hook up once they were both back in New York.

He knew where to get her number.

CHAPTER ONE

JESSIE GROWLED WHEN she heard the phone ring. She couldn’t possibly reach it from where she sat, huddled under her desk. Not for the first time she cursed the ancient wiring in her office. It shorted out the power strip that kept her laptop juiced at least three times a day, necessitating these little sojourns.

Someday she’d get that fixed. Hopefully someday soon—especially if they kept landing new business.

“Gloria? Can you get that for me?” she shouted, hoping her sister would hear her.

“Got it!” Gloria yelled as she skidded across the slippery wooden floor and dived for the phone.

“Good afternoon, this is Jessie Owens’s phone … Yes, she’s here. She just needs a minute to get to the phone. Can I tell her who’s calling?”

Gloria peered down at Jessie. “A man named Nick is on the phone. He says you two met at Becky’s wedding.”

Nick? That was a surprise. Given how fast he’d run after she threw herself at him, she hadn’t thought she’d ever hear from him again.

Stupid champagne. She knew better than to drink that stuff. All her internal filters disappeared after a couple of glasses.

Finally untangling herself from the mess of cords, she held a hand up to Gloria. “Help me up, would you?”

Gloria pulled, hard and the two women overbalanced, ending up in a pile on the floor.

They looked at each other and burst into giggles.

“Smooth move, ace.”

“Right back at ya, grace.”

Jessie was still laughing when she spoke into the phone. “Hello, this is Jessie.”

“Jessie. It’s good to know your laugh sounds just as intoxicating when I’m not hopped up on wedding pheromones,” a gravelly voice said.

“I’m surprised you remember how my voice sounded. You sure hightailed it out of there as quickly as you could after we chatted!”

“It wasn’t you,” he said, his voice low with what she assumed was mock regret. “It was the garter. I didn’t want to get anywhere near it.”

Jessie laughed again. She could certainly understand that. After she’d caught the bouquet she’d been forced to coo over the flowers with a gaggle of over-hopeful women, then dance with the aging, paunchy bachelor who’d caught the garter.

“I don’t blame you. It was a weird scene,” she said, leaning back against her desk.

“Weddings usually are. If we’d actually gone back to your room, your friends would have had us married off by morning.”

“Nah, they know better. As far as I’m concerned, marriage is a waste of time.”

Nick laughed. “I hope you didn’t tell Becky that?”

“Of course not. I was my usual supportive self,” she answered, picking up the framed picture of the two of them that sat on her desk. “It has been a long time, though. What? Three months? You’ve been busy, I suppose?”

“Well, you know … I just had to fit a transatlantic move into my schedule, start a new job, and figure out how to save my family’s business. Little stuff.”

Jessie laughed. “You could have stopped at transatlantic move. That would have been enough for me.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” he said.

An awkward silence fell and she glanced down at her watch. “Crap,” she said before she could choke the word back. “I’m late.”

“Late?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a meeting with a new client and their agency. It’s guaranteed to be a hundred kinds of awkward.”

“That stinks. As it happens, I’m on my way to an equally awkward meeting even as we speak. I’ve got to talk my client out of doing something spectacularly stupid—in front of the idiots who are advocating the stupidity.”

“That sucks,” Jessie said, pulling a navy suit jacket from the hook in her office and dashing out of the brownstone that housed her agency.

“Tell me about it.”

“So. What can I do for you?” she said as she clattered down the pavement. “I hate to rush you, but in about three minutes I’ll be heading down to the subway—and you know what that does to cell signals.”

“Oh. Right. Well, I was wondering if maybe you’d want to attend a charity ball with me tomorrow night. I know it’s last-minute, but my father just informed me I have to go and, as I recall, you said you’d love to attend one.”

“Will you be picking me up in a pumpkin-shaped carriage?”

“I can if you promise to wear some glass slippers,” he replied.

“Touché,” she said, pausing at the top of the staircase that led down into the subway. “Okay, you’re on! Where should I meet you?”

“Oh, I really will pick you up,” he said. “Mark already gave me your address.”

“Right. Then I’ll see you about eight?”

“Better make it seven.”

“Okay. See you then,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

But inside she was squealing. Going to a ball with the handsome son of a business tycoon? Looking forward to that would certainly get her through this meeting, no matter how badly it went.

Nick looked at his watch, wishing with all his might that his driver would turn off the classical music and step on the gas pedal. Leaning forward, he said, “Bob, can’t you go a little faster?”

The bald man turned and made a face at him.

“What? Are you late for a hot date or something?”

“No. Just a meeting with our agency’s biggest client.”

“The one they brought you back from London to save?” the big man said, one eyebrow raised.

“The one and only.”

“Say no more, son. I’ll get you there. Buckle up.”

As the town car turned off the traffic-jammed street on to a glorified alley Nick quickly did as he was told.

He was more worried about this meeting than he cared to admit. If he could get the cosmetics account back on solid ground it would go a long way toward shoring up the agency’s future—and putting an end to the board’s threats to sell it.

Silently, Nick cursed his father for selling shares of Thornton & Co. without giving him a chance to buy in. If Nick couldn’t get Thornton in the black again his old man would side with those vultures and sell the business he’d promised his grandfather he’d protect—and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

Nick thought back to all the times he’d looked for his father in the stands at football games and soccer matches, only to find his grandfather there instead. Remembered all the times his grandfather had been there to help him with his homework when his mom and dad had been missing in action. Hell, his grandfather had been the only one to show up for his high school graduation.

Saving the agency from his father was the least Nick could do to pay him back. Especially since it was the only thing his grandfather had ever asked him to do.

Nick sighed. It was going to take a long time to undo the damage his dad had done. He was going to have to take it one step at a time. First he’d get Goddess back. Then he’d reward himself with a night out with Jessie.

Ever since he’d held her in his arms at the wedding he’d wanted to see more of her. The sound of her laugh was embedded in his brain, tinkling to life at the most inappropriate of times—like when he was out with one of the never-ending stream of society women his mother kept fixing him up with.

He wondered what his mother would say if she saw him with Jessie? Probably something terrible.

There was no way Jessie would win approval from anyone in his family. From what Mark had told him, he knew she didn’t have the family ties or social standing that would make her a real person in their eyes. She was a nobody from somewhere in Michigan.

And he already knew what happened when he fell for a “nobody.” He got hurt and she got paid to go away.

No need to go through that again. Much better to keep things light. Flings were all he allowed himself—and something told him Jessie operated the same way.

“Nick?”

Nick blinked and realized Bob was staring back at him.

“What?”

“We’re here.”

“Here?”

“Yes. At the site of your hot meeting?”

“Oh. Right,” he said, shaking his head to clear it of thoughts of the redhead. “Thanks.”

“You want me to wait?”

“No. I don’t know how long this will take. Go home to your wife. I’ll catch a cab home.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks,” Bob said with a grin. “For the record, I’m looking forward to the day you’re in charge.”

“Me too, Bob. Me too.”

With that, he stepped out and headed into the sleek glass building.

Nick waved at the blond-haired receptionist as he strode through the marble foyer.

“Hey, Joan. Are they in the usual spot?”

“They are, indeed,” she said. “But don’t you have time to chat for a minute?”

“Sorry, babe,” he said, giving her his sexiest grin. “Maybe next time.”

“All right—fine. But I’ll hold you to it!”

He saluted and kept moving through the twelve-foot doors. She was cute, but if he ever had to listen to another one of her stories about Fred, her adorable cat, he might just poke his eyes out.

Still, he’d do whatever he had to to remain a favorite here. Perception was king in advertising, after all.

He looked down at his watch. Seven minutes past three. Crap. That meant the meeting had started without him. Still, it wouldn’t do to look as if he was in a hurry.

He stopped, took a deep breath, and opened the door, already preparing his apology.

But when he saw what or rather who was inside the sleek conference room, the words died in his throat.

“Jessie? What are you doing here?”

The redhead looked up from the computer screen she’d been sharing with the elegant gray-haired woman who was his client, a confused look on her face.

“Working. What are you doing here, Nick?”

“The same.”

Quickly, their client intervened. “I see you two already know each other?” she said. “How convenient.”

“Well,” Nick said, mind whirling. “We’ve met—but only socially.”

“I didn’t even know Nick was in advertising,” Jessie added.

“Oh. Well, you’re about to get to know each other a lot better,” Phyllis said. “Nick—Jessie’s company is our new digital partner. I set up this meeting so we could discuss what our strategy will be moving forward.”

With that, the pieces of the puzzle clicked. Jessie was in charge of the agency he’d been hoping to dissuade Goddess Cosmetics from using. Suddenly his resolution to do whatever it took to win back every scrap of the Goddess business, even if it meant destroying the other agency, was no longer a challenge he was looking forward to. Instead it was a problem he’d rather avoid.

Still, business had to come first.

Putting his dreams of having a hot affair with Jessie on the back burner, he took his seat at the table.

“Yes. About that … While I’m sure Jessie and her company have plenty of experience in the digital landscape, I don’t think it’s necessary to direct as much of your marketing budget online as she is recommending,” he said, launching into his carefully prepared spiel.

“Let me stop you right there, Nick,” Phyllis broke in. “My decision to rely on Roar is not up for discussion. We had Jessie’s people do a thorough analysis of the performance of our advertising campaigns over the last few years, and we have decided that something needs to change. The materials your company has delivered are quite frankly stale, and certainly aren’t getting the results we need.”

“How can you say our work is stale? The last campaign we did for you won awards from three different competitions!” Nick said, doing his best not look at the redheaded beauty sitting next to his client.

As long as he didn’t have to speak to Jessie he could pretend she was just a troublesome competitor, and not a woman he’d like to see naked.

Phyllis sighed and fiddled with her pen. “Yes, yes, that’s true. But you used the same old tired tactics. TV, radio, magazine ads … We don’t care what the advertising community thinks. We care what our customers think. And you’re not reaching them. To do that you’ve got to be on the internet. You’ve got to speak to them on those virtual networks—like Jessie, here, does.”

Jessie cleared her throat and glanced up for the first time since he’d sat down, discomfort shining in her blue eyes. “The term is social networks, Phyl,” she said. “And, yes, you do have to be there. Our research tells us—”

“I don’t care what your research says,” Nick broke in. “My agency has been handling Goddess’ advertising for fifty-six years. I think we know what your customers want, Phyllis.”

“You’re wrong,” Jessie said.

Pushing a button on her laptop, she got out of her chair and went to stand where she could point at the chart that had appeared on the projector screen.

“See this red line?” she asked, looking directly at him, challenge vibrating in every line of her body.

“Of course I do,” he answered, trying not to notice how well she filled out the lime-green sheath she was wearing.

“That represents the sales figures for the Goddess line over the last three years. As you can see, they’ve gone down twelve quarters in a row.”

“That’s not our fault—” he started.

“I wasn’t finished,” she snapped. A new slide replaced the old—this one a bar graph.

“This slide shows us how sales have been affected by advertising efforts. As you can see, profits actually went down after the launch of the last campaign—and stayed there. Obviously something isn’t working.”

Nick was silent for a moment. She had a point. He knew she did. But since he’d only gotten control of the Goddess account two months ago those numbers didn’t reflect what his team was capable of.

“I am aware of that. But I’ve hired a new creative team and we’re working on materials that will mitigate the problem.” He turned his attention to Phyllis. “Give us three months and I promise you you’ll see a big difference. The things we’re working on are like nothing you’ve ever seen before.”

“Good, good … I’m glad to hear it,” Phyllis said, a pained smile on her face. “But I don’t have three months to wait. We’re launching a new product line in six weeks, and I need a big campaign to introduce it to the marketplace.”

Nick’s heart plummeted. “New product line? Well. That’s interesting.” Thinking fast, he continued, “That’s not much time, but I’m sure my team can handle it. We’ll have to work night and day, but I am confident we can have some concepts for you to review within the week.”

“No need, no need. Jessie already has it figured out. Her team has come up with a dynamite campaign.”

Nick glanced her way, his blood boiling. She had just made his life—and his plan to get the agency back on track—a great deal more difficult. Taking a deep breath, he said, “Okay—good. You’ve got digital handled. But we’ll still need to get the print ads going, and TV, and probably some direct mail. You can’t launch a product without investing in traditional advertising.”

“All in good time,” his client said, leather creaking as she leaned back in her chair. “But there’s no need to rush. We’re going to put our entire marketing budget in the digital space for the launch. Then, after we’ve gotten a foothold there, you guys can do your stuff.”

Nick swallowed, unable to believe what he was hearing. “So you don’t want Thornton involved in the launch at all?”

“I think what she’s saying is that Roar is in charge and you should follow our lead,” Jessie said, squirming in her chair.

“You’re trusting Roar with this? No offense, but I think that’s a huge mistake.”

“Be that as it may, Jessie’s got the helm on this one,” Phyllis said, getting up from her chair. “Make sure whatever materials you eventually present are in line with what she’s doing. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to move on to my next meeting. I’m sure you two have plenty to talk about, so feel free to stay as long as you like.”

And with that she was gone.

Nick stared at his adversary, wishing she wasn’t so damn attractive. And that his hands didn’t itch to hold her.

Channeling the haughty air that was his birthright as a fourth generation advertising executive, he looked calmly across the table.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve gotten yourself into?”

Jessie blinked. How dared he address her like some sort of troublesome child?

He’d been driving her crazy since the second he walked in. That haughty sneer hadn’t left his face for more than two seconds. He certainly wasn’t acting anything like the man she met at Becky’s wedding.

And now he questioned her abilities?

“I think I just got a hold of a branch on your money tree—that’s what I think. And you don’t like me shaking it.”

He snorted.

“Don’t kid yourself. This is a drop in the bucket for my agency. Besides, Phyllis will wise up and come running back in no time. You don’t have what it takes to keep an account like this happy.”

Jessie stalked across the room until she stood directly in front of him.

“How do you know what I can handle? You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know I’ve never heard of an agency called Roar,” he said, leaning back in his chair with his arms behind his head, one side of his mouth curling up in a sneer. “And, since I pride myself on being familiar with every agency worth knowing in this city, I’m guessing you haven’t done much worth talking about.”

For the first time Jessie understood the expression “seeing red.” It was all she could do not to reach up and strangle him with his tie. But since getting mad was probably exactly what he wanted her to do, she did the opposite. Putting her hands behind her, she hopped up on the giant mahogany table and crossed her legs, making sure he got an eyeful of thigh.

Nick’s eyes widened and he swallowed loudly, his body giving away his sudden interest.

“That’s a very interesting theory,” she said. “But I think if you ask around you’ll find plenty of people talking about us. Perhaps you’re just out of touch? Like your agency.”

Nick looked at her with a predatory gaze and it was her turn to swallow loudly. Even knowing he was now the competition, a part of her still wanted him.

“Careful, Jessie. I might be ‘out of touch,’ as you say, but I could still crush you and your little agency without breaking a sweat.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he growled.

She slowly slid down off her perch, letting her skirt ride up in the process, and watched as he caught a ragged breath.

“Oh, I’m very good at tempting men. In fact there’s only one thing I do better,” she said as she sauntered back to her laptop.

“Which is …?”

She threw him a smile as she snapped the lid shut. “Kicking their butts with my advertising.”

She quickly stowed the computer in her bag, anxious to get away before her disappointment had a chance to catch up with her. It was just her luck that Prince Charming had turned out to be King of the Schmucks.

But when she turned to leave she found her way blocked by a solid wall of muscle. Damn, she hadn’t remembered he was so tall … or so deliciously built.

She tried to move past without touching him. “Excuse me. You’re in my way.”

“We haven’t finished our conversation. About what you’re getting into.”

She looked up at him, a retort on the tip of her tongue, but when he caught her gaze the words died in her throat. His eyes burned into hers, silently communicating an encyclopedia’s worth of knowledge about want and need and straight-up danger.

She stared at him helplessly, trying to think of something that wasn’t, Kiss me now, you hot, sexy—

“Getting into?” she asked, trying unsuccessfully to keep the squeak from her voice.

“Yes. You’re in the big league now. The stakes are bigger. The sharks are hungrier. You sure you’re up for the challenge?”

Forcing herself to step back, she swallowed, then answered, “I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.”

He opened his mouth to answer, but before he could Phyllis bustled in.

“Oh, good, you two are still here,” she said, oblivious to the mood in the room. “As Nick already knows, Goddess is sponsoring a charity ball tomorrow. Two seats have just opened up at my table and I’d like you to take them.”

“I’d be happy to take them off your hands,” Jessie said quickly. “I’m sure I can find someone to come with me.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Phyllis said. “I want you to attend the ball together. The higher-ups are worried about the direction we’re taking our advertising in. The two of you presenting a united front would go a long way toward allaying their fears.”

Jessie looked at Nick, unsure of what to say. While going to a ball with him had seemed like a dream come true just a couple of hours ago, now it seemed nightmare-worthy.

“I’d be happy to accompany Jessie to the ball,” Nick said with a smooth smile. “After a couple of glasses of champagne she might tell me the secrets of her success.”

Jessie conjured up a hollow laugh. “Not likely, but it’ll be fun to see you try and get them out of me!”

Phyllis nodded. “Great. It’s all set, then. I’ll see you two tomorrow … at the ball!”

“Looking forward to it,” Jessie said, crossing her fingers behind her back.

After Phyllis exited, Nick turned to her with a grim smile. “Pick you up at seven?”

She shook her head. “No. I’ll meet you there.”

“Bad idea. People will notice if we don’t arrive together.”

Jessie’s temper flared. How dared he tell her what to do? “I’m not sure I care.”

Nick scowled. “Well, I do. Unlike you, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep my client happy. And she wants us to put up a united front. So I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Then he turned on his heel and left, not waiting for her reply.

Jessie’s heart pounded and the blood roared in her veins. How dared he be so presumptuous? So controlling? He was turning out to be everything she hated about corporate advertising.

Stupid man. She hoped he was feeling good about his little victory—there was no way he was going to get another one.

CHAPTER TWO

NICK SIGHED. HE’D JUST spent three hours going through the advertising materials for the Goddess account, hoping to see a spark of brilliance that he’d overlooked before, but Phyllis was right. They were old. Tired. Stale. There wasn’t a single mention of social media, or online videos, or anything interactive at all.

Thornton had missed the digital advertising boat entirely. It was no wonder that Roar had been able to wow Phyllis so easily. His agency hadn’t even tried.

He put his feet up on the giant wooden desk he’d been given and leaned back in his chair, looking for answers on the ceiling. He knew how to turn Thornton & Co. around. He just had to convince his father to listen to him.

Right on cue, his father barged in, storming through the door with his usual attitude of barely contained rage.

“Thanks for knocking, Dad,” he said, hoping his father would notice the sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“What? Are you hiding a girl in here or something?”

“Of course not. But—”

“But nothing. I need to talk to you—and I’m not about to let that secretary of yours come up with an excuse to keep me out again.

“She prefers to be called my assistant.”

“Whatever. I don’t want to talk about the woman you’ve got taking your calls. We need to discuss the lion woman.”

“Lion?” Nick asked, genuinely confused.

“Yes. The gal who runs the web thing.”

“Oh. You mean Jessie. Her agency is called Roar.”

His father snorted. “And if that’s not a ridiculous name for an agency I don’t know what is. You got any Scotch in here?”

“No. I’m not in the habit of drinking in the office.”

“More’s the pity,” his father said, before settling in one of the ancient burgundy leather armchairs Nick had inherited when he took over this office. “Your generation has taken all the fun out of advertising. I remember when—”

“Dad. I don’t have time for a trip down Memory Lane right now. I’m trying to figure out how to save our agency.”

“Yes. That’s what I wanted to discuss with you. First of all, you need to eliminate Roar from the picture.”

“Obviously that would be ideal, but we don’t have the resources to do what she does. If you had invested in digital when I told you to we wouldn’t be in this situation,” Nick said, trying not to let his temper get the best of him.

His father waved his hand. “Let’s not start that again. I brought you back because you said you wanted to fix things—not rehash the past.”

Nick motioned toward the piles of spreadsheets and glossy ads in front of him. “That’s what I’m trying to do.”

“You’re not going to find the answer in paperwork. You should be buttering Phyllis up—getting her to fall for the good ol’ Thornton charm. I know you’ve got it in you.”

Nick couldn’t stop the roll of his eyes. “Phyllis is smarter than that. Besides, she’s been happily married for a million years.”

“True. But she’s still a woman.” His father folded his hands behind his head and looked up at the ceiling, as if a slideshow was playing there. “There’s not a woman in the world who doesn’t want to feel wanted by a handsome man. Why, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve closed a deal because of—”

“Dad!” Nick shouted.

He sat up straight again. “What?”

It took everything he had not to grab a roll of duct tape and shut his father’s mouth for him. “I don’t want to hear about your glory days. I want to talk about how we can set this agency up to start winning again—and shut down the buyout bid.”

His father slumped back in his chair and sighed. “All right. Fine. Shoot.”

Nick took a deep breath. He had to remain calm if he wanted his father to listen to him. “We need to go digital. Now. I need you to give me free rein to set up an online advertising division. I’ll invest in the latest equipment. Steal all the best people from the already established agencies. And then I’ll have them create spec work for all our current clients. Before you know it we’ll have a giant new revenue stream without having to go through a single pitch.”

“And how does that help us with our current problem?”

“It ensures that we never lose another piece of business to an upstart like Roar.”

His father nodded. “All right. I’ll think about it. In the meantime I want you to get the Goddess launch back in our court.”

“I plan to—but I’ll need to prove to them we can handle their digital needs first.”

His father slammed a fist into the arm of his chair. “You don’t have to prove anything. Just give ‘em a little theater. Come up with a great campaign idea, put together a slick presentation, and bam! Roar is history.”

“It’s not going to be that easy to beat Roar. Phyllis loves Jessie.”

“You think so?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

“I know so. Phyllis has commanded us to appear at the charity ball together. She wants us to present a united front to make the higher-ups feel better.”

“And you agreed?”

Nick sighed. “At this point I’m willing to do just about anything to keep Phyllis happy.”

His father nodded as he got up to leave. “Just make sure you keep it about business. It wouldn’t do to get involved with this harpy.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

That was a lie. He’d been dreaming about what she’d look like with her clothes off quite a bit.

For now that was off the table. But after he’d beaten Roar he had every intention of getting her naked.

Jessie looked at herself in the dressing room mirror, smoothing her hands over the emerald-green silk of the form-fitting evening gown she was wearing.

“I don’t know, Gloria. It’s a little too …”

“Too what? Elegant? Classy? Gorgeous?” snorted the long-legged brunette from her seat on the floor.

“I was going to say too much. It isn’t me.”

“Oh, Jessie. You’re going to a black tie gala. That sequined bandage you usually pass off as formal attire isn’t going to work this time.”

“Maybe we should keep looking.”

“No. No, we shouldn’t. You’ve already tried on every other dress in your size in the store,” Gloria said, pointing at the towering stack of evening gowns that was draped over the dressing room’s upholstered chair.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Jessie sighed as she twisted her hair up into a loose bun and stared at her reflection. She knew her sister was right, but she felt like a little girl playing dress-up in her mother’s clothes. The elegant, polished woman staring back at her from the mirror was a stranger to her.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go at all. I could just call Phyllis and tell her something came up.”

“What’s going on, Jessie?” her sister asked, crossing the small room to stand in front of her. “This isn’t like you. Are you scared?”

“No, not scared. Just intimidated.”

“Why? Your agency—the agency we started less than two years ago—has been chosen to launch a huge make-up line. You’ve been asked to attend one of the year’s most prestigious charity balls as the guest of that same make-up line. And you’ll be sitting right next to someone from New York’s biggest and oldest ad agency—the agency that you showed up and outdid. This is your moment to shine!”

“But what if I say or do something stupid and completely blow it? I’m afraid they’ll know I don’t belong there the minute I open my mouth.”

“You’re going to be sitting with a bunch of aging white guys, wearing a gorgeous dress and looking like a million bucks. You could speak in pig Latin all night and no one would blink an eye.”

Jessie grinned, realizing her sister was right. Powerful men always seemed to want her. “Should I see if I can get Roar a sugar daddy?”

“Roar doesn’t need one. We’ve got you. But no one would blame you if you wanted to get one for yourself!”

“Nah. I don’t want to get chained down to anyone—let alone some ancient guy—even if he comes with designer shoes and private yachts.”

“What about the hot young advertising executive who’s escorting you?”

Nick. As soon as his name crossed her mind a confusing mix of rage and lust clouded her thoughts. She remembered the way he’d sneered at her after he’d found out it was her agency that had stolen his business. And how he’d tried to use his size to intimidate her. She wouldn’t go near him with a ten-foot pole.

“Thanks, but no thanks. His ego would take up too much of the bed.”

Gloria squeezed her shoulder. “All right—whatever, sis. Just don’t let him get to you. You’re worth ten of him.”

Jessie nodded, feeling better after the pep talk.

“Thanks, Gloria,” she said, moving in for a hug.

Gloria squeaked and backed out of her reach. “No hugging while you’re wearing that dress—you might wrinkle it. Pretend you’re one of those frozen heiress types. Air kisses only!”

“Right. Okay. Help me out of this, will you? I don’t want to play the frozen princess until I have to.”

“We’re here, boss.”

Nick started. “Already? That was fast.”

“Not really.” Bob snorted. “You were just lost in space. I don’t think you blinked once the whole way here.”

Nick frowned. “Just trying to figure out how to handle the evening. I’m used to escorting shallow debutantes—not my biggest competitor.”

“Just treat her like you would any other woman. Open doors, pull out her chair and turn on the charm. She’ll be a puddle at your feet in no time.”

Nick tried to imagine Jessie melting, but the image that came to mind was of her vaporizing him. “I don’t know about that. This one’s a fighter.”

“You won’t know until you try. Go.”

“You’re right. As usual.”

Besides, he had no choice. Phyllis was expecting them in less than an hour. Nick took a deep breath and looked at his surroundings. The neighborhood of elegant but boring brownstones didn’t look like the kind of place Jessie would call home.

He motioned toward the one they were parked in front of. “Are you sure this is the right address?”

“That one’s not. But that one is,” Bob said, pointing across the street.

Nick laughed out loud as he took in the fuchsia-painted exterior of the house Bob was pointing at. “Of course it is.”

He got out of the limo and walked up the brightly tiled mosaic path that led to the front door, still grinning. He pushed the doorbell and was unsurprised to hear a lion roaring in response inside the house.

Seconds later a fresh-faced brunette opened the door. “You must be Nick,” she said.

“The one and only. And you are …?”

“Gloria. Jessie’s sister and office manager. Come on in. She’ll be down in a second.”

Nick stepped inside and was surprised to find himself in a lobby environment, complete with receptionist’s desk and pink and black polka-dotted armchairs.

“You guys run Roar out of here?”

“Yep. The ground floor and basement are for the business. Jessie and I live on the top two floors.”

“I just assumed it was a bigger operation.”

The woman shrugged. “It’s bigger than it used to be. There’s fifteen of us now. When Jessie and I started it was just the two of us.”

“And when was that?

“A little over a year ago. Can I get you some water or something?”

He shook his head, trying to wrap his brain around the fact that his competition was so inexperienced. How had they managed to snag an account like Goddess?

“Okay, then. Make yourself comfortable. She’ll be down in a minute.”

He sank into one of the plush chairs, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all. But before he had a chance to get too comfortable he heard the clacking of high heels crossing the hardwood floor.

He looked up and felt all the breath leave his body.

Jessie was a vision of sparkling emerald and fiery red. Her dress clung to her curves in all the right places and her hair tumbled loose around her bare shoulders.

“Wow.”

She smiled grimly. “I’ll interpret that as, You clean up well, Jessie.”

Nick rose to his feet. “That you do. You look beautiful.”

She stepped back and gave him a once-over, her eyes slowly roaming over his body.

“You’re not looking too shabby either. I think you’ll do.”

“Good to know.”

An awkward silence fell as they stared at each other, neither wanting to make the next move.

It didn’t bode well for the evening.

Nick sighed, realizing he was going to have to be the one to break the silence if they were ever going to make it out through the door.

“All right, so obviously neither one of us wants to be here. But we’re supposed to be supporting Phyllis, so we need to do our best to look like we’re pleased with the way things are going.”

Jessie raised an eyebrow. “So you’re going to pretend to be happy about losing out on the Natural Goddess launch?”

Nick took a deep breath. He would not let her get to him. “Well, I don’t know if I can channel ‘happy,’ but I think I can do collegial.”

She looked at him silently for a moment, her expression still as stone.

“I don’t know that I can.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? That’s certainly good for me.”

She crossed her arms around her chest. “What do you mean?”

“Most of the people in the room at this ball are going to hate each other. But they’re perfectly capable of pretending to be best buddies when the situation calls for it. If you can’t play the game, your agency is doomed to fail.”

Jessie scowled. “Of course I can play the game. I’d just rather not play it with you.”

Nick stood to leave. Although Jessie looked damned sexy when she was angry, his life would certainly be easier if she wasn’t there. “Fine. I’ll give Phyllis your regrets. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure they don’t miss you.”

“God, you’re a bastard.”

Nick forced his lips into a smile, trying to ignore the sting her words caused. He liked to think his father was the only devil in the Thornton family. “Indeed I am. It’s good for business. Enjoy your evening.” And he reached for the doorknob.

“Wait.”

He turned back to face her. “Yes?”

“I’ll come.” She shrugged on her wrap. “And I’ll do my best to be cordial.”

He wasn’t sure whether he should be disappointed or glad at her change in attitude. “May I ask why?”

“Because I’m not going to let you beat me that easily. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep this business.”

Nick stepped close, purposely invading her personal space. “Even if it means getting closer to me?”

Heat flashed across her face, but she quickly hid it and stepped back. “Not that close.”

They would just have to see about that.

“Message received,” he said out loud, and held out his arm for her to take. “Shall we go?”

“Yes, indeed.” She put her hand delicately on his forearm.

“Great.”

He shook his head slightly as they set off down the walkway. One thing was for sure—with Jessie on his arm, the evening would be anything but boring.

Jessie tried not to be impressed when she saw the limo that waited at the curb. But when his driver got out to hold the door open for her, her jaw dropped. They were definitely not in Kansas anymore.

“Nice ride,” she said after he’d slid in next to her.

“It is,” Nick answered. “But it’s not my favorite.”

“How many cars do you have?”

“Well, the agency has six limos that are kept for the use of the family. This is one of those. Left to my own devices, though, I prefer to ride my motorcycle.”

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a biker.”

“And I wouldn’t have pegged you as a cold-hearted boardroom ball-buster,” he answered. “But you are.”

That stung, but Jessie tried not to show it. The last thing she wanted was to turn into another “business first, last and always” power-monger.

“I’m not cold-hearted. Just determined. It’s time the ad world got a shot of estrogen, but you guys aren’t going to make room for female-owned shops like mine if we ask politely.”

Nick smiled. “Actually, I would have been more than happy to work with you. I just don’t appreciate you stealing one of my biggest clients.”

Jessie took a deep breath to calm her temper, but as his spicy scent hit her nostrils she wished she hadn’t. For a moment her inner lioness threatened to take over. And all she wanted to do was crawl into Nick’s lap and find out how he tasted.

But that was definitely not going to happen.

Jessie shook her head to clear it. “We’re supposed to be being collegial tonight, remember? That means no comments like that. Tell me about this ball we’re going to instead.”

Nick shrugged. “What do you want to know? As far as I’m concerned it’s just another boring charity gala in another fancy hotel ballroom, populated by a bunch of socialites with the emotional depth of a pancake. If you’ve been to one, you’ve been to them all.”

“Yes, but I’ve never been to one. Tell me what to expect.”

Just then the car stopped. “We’ve arrived,” the chauffeur said.

“Too late.” Nick slid across the seat until his thigh pressed against hers. “But there’s really only one thing you need to know.”

Jessie swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “What’s that?”

“You’re going to be the most beautiful woman in the room.”

That was so far away from what she’d expected to hear she wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly.

“What did you say?”

“You heard me. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

The heat in his sapphire gaze pinned her to the spot. He bent his head down toward hers and her pulse jumped in response. He hovered centimeters away, his eyes still locked on hers.

“I want you more than I’ve wanted anything in a very long time,” he said. “But if you get in my way I’ll still crush you like a bug.”

She gasped, outraged. But before she could think of a suitably cutting retort the driver opened the door.

His face turned into a blank mask as he sat up straight.

“Let’s get this over with,” he muttered.

She slid out of the car, gulping the fresh, non-Nick-scented air to clear her head. Obviously he knew the effect he had on her and wasn’t afraid to use it. But now that she knew he intended to play that game, he wouldn’t be able to surprise her again.

This was business. And he was the enemy. It wouldn’t do to forget that, even if they were playing nice for the evening.

Seconds later, Nick appeared beside her.

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

He nodded and set off up the marble stairs, not looking to see if she was following. She did her best to keep up, but the five-inch stilettos she was wearing made it difficult. At the door he turned, and looked momentarily chagrined when he saw her still picking her way up.

“Sorry about that. I seem to have forgotten my manners this evening.”

“I suppose that’s to be expected when you’re forced to play escort to a woman you don’t even like,” she said, trying to make light of the situation.

Nick smiled, purposely letting his gaze drift down to her cleavage. “I like you fine. In fact, if you agree to give up the Goddess account, I’ll make sure we have a lovely evening.”

Jessie pulled her wrap more tightly around her shoulders. “Not a chance, bud.”

He shrugged. “All right, then. I’ll escort you to the table and then you’re on your own.”

“Fine by me,” she said shortly.

He held the door open, sweeping his arm out with false gallantry. “After you.”

Seeing the mockery in his eyes, she straightened her spine, held her head high, and stepped through into the ballroom beyond.

She didn’t need him, no matter how sexy he was. She had all of New York’s advertising elite waiting to be wrapped around her little finger.

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