The Revenge Game (The Player's Pact) Read online

  He shouldn’t let that happen. He should have run like hell as soon as they’d had sex on her yacht. Or he should have demanded she send him home immediately. He should be doing it right now.

  “So, I assume it was good,” Ryan said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Really good?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you going to say anything besides ‘yeah’?” Ryan asked.

  “No.”

  Ryan whistled through his teeth. “Damn, man. You’re playing with fire.”

  “Tell me about it.” He dug his fingers into his hair. Ryan was a perceptive guy. Anything Adam said to him would give away the fact that Adam might be in over his head here. “It’s complicated.”

  “It’s not supposed to be complicated,” Ryan said. “We’re players. Anything about sex goes, except for getting tied down.”

  “I was in love with her once.” So much in love, he’d thought they’d have a life together. Have kids. Grow old and die within days of each other.

  “But you’re not now.”

  “No,” Adam answered too quickly. He sounded defensive.

  “You sure about that?”

  “Yeah, it’s just…” He searched for words other than “it’s complicated.” He couldn’t find any, and Ryan didn’t help him out by interrupting. The resulting silence went on long enough to make him feel guilty as hell. Guilty of breaking the one serious Players Pact rule—becoming emotionally involved.

  “I’m getting Grant in on this,” Ryan said.

  “Don’t do that,” Adam said. “Please.”

  Ryan disappeared from the call for a few seconds while Adam stared at the ceiling. Maybe the connection had been broken. Maybe he could hang up and pretend something had gone wrong.

  Before he had a chance to do that, Grant came on the line. “So, what’s up?”

  “Oh, no, not both of you,” Adam said.

  “Our friend here has got himself in a situation,” Ryan said. “The woman from his past.”

  Grant clucked his tongue. “I thought that might be trouble.”

  “You might have said so at the time,” Adam said. Both of them had told him his hooking up with Nicole had been a great idea.

  “You disappeared with her and never came back,” Grant said.

  “That’s what I told him,” Ryan said. “Where are you, anyway?”

  God, did he have to tell them that, too? Probably not, but eventually they’d keep after him until they got the information out of him.

  “Paris?” Ryan asked.

  “Oh, for crying out loud,” Adam said.

  “Nah, Tahiti.” Grant chuckled. “On a private island, naked on a beach. Screwing each other’s brains out.”

  Too close to home. “Will you two cut it out?”

  “Maybe in the middle of the ocean on the lady’s yacht with no crew,” Ryan said. “I think we should send the Coast Guard after them before they starve.”

  “All right, all right,” Adam said. “I’m on McKee Island.”

  “Alone?” Grant asked.

  “With Nicole.” He wouldn’t admit that the two of them were alone and could be naked on the beach if they wanted. In fact, they had been. And they were definitely screwing each other’s brains out.

  “And where is McKee Island?” Ryan asked.

  “Off the coast of South Carolina. Nicole’s building a resort here, and she wanted me to see it.”

  “And having plenty of sex,” Ryan said.

  That sounded better than screwing each other’s brains out. “Yeah.”

  “This is serious.” Grant let out a low whistle. “I’m glad you called me.”

  “It’s not serious,” Adam said, even though he knew it damned well could be. “We’re only here for a few days.”

  “Alone with each other and totally out of touch with the rest of the world,” Grant said.

  “I’m on the phone with you two clowns right now, aren’t I?” Adam said.

  “Testy,” Ryan said. “The man is definitely hiding something.”

  If he didn’t love these two bozos so much, he’d chew on their asses for a while about their too-cute attitudes. What went on between him and Nicole was none of their business. No, wait, it was. They pretty much told one another everything. And they needled one another constantly. So, teasing was part of their friendship. He’d be doing the same thing to one of them in the same situation.

  “I thought Grant might have an opinion on your problem, Adam,” Ryan said. “Seeing as he was married once.”

  “I do not have a problem, and I was never married to Nicole.” Great. He was shouting now. That would only encourage them.

  “But you loved her,” Grant said. Sympathy had replaced the teasing in his voice—not a sign of progress.

  “It was ten years ago.”

  “But you still wanted her when you saw her at the reception,” Grant said.

  He sighed. He couldn’t deny that reality. Those ten years had all but disappeared the moment he’d laid eyes on her.

  “Is the sex good?” Grant asked.

  “Of course it’s good,” Adam answered.

  “No, is it good?” Grant asked.

  He might as well tell them the truth. “It’s unbelievable. Better than before.”

  “Yup,” Grant said. “Honeymoon sex.”

  For a second, Adam held the phone away from his head and stared at it. Then he put it back to his ear. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

  “What he said,” Ryan answered. “You’re on a honeymoon.”

  “No marriage would fail if the people involved could stay on their honeymoon,” Grant said. “The sex is unbelievable. But once they get home, they get busy, and…poof.”

  “I’m not going to go poof with Nicole.” Crap. He ought to listen to himself. Poof?

  “Trust me. I’ve been there,” Grant said. “You’re probably enjoying the best sex of your life. I’m still trying to duplicate it without all the marriage baggage.”

  “Look, you two assholes. You got me into this,” Adam said. “If you’re so damned smart, figure out how to get me out.”

  “You haven’t made any promises to her, have you?” Grant asked.

  “None.”

  “And she’s not holding you captive,” Grant said.

  “Not anymore.”

  “Then the minute the baggage shows up, get out,” Grant said. “Problem fixed.”

  “In the meantime, enjoy yourself,” Ryan said. “I’m almost jealous. Almost.”

  “Thanks for all the wisdom, guys. You know I’m going to wipe the basketball court with you when I get back,” Adam said.

  “Oooh, I’m so scared,” Grant said.

  “Bye, pussycat,” Ryan said and broke the connection, leaving Adam staring at his phone.

  The two of them might be wise-asses, but chances were, they’d sized up his situation accurately. He and Nicole were enjoying a honeymoon, along with incredible sex. Maybe she’d check them into the bridal suite next. She probably hadn’t meant it that way, but how could things turn out any different when two lovers found themselves all alone in a place like this? He had to figure out how to handle this situation.

  Chapter Seven

  Nicole could barely concentrate on her own work on the elliptical machine in Savvy’s gym because Adam was on a treadmill only a few feet away. Wearing shorts and a T-shirt they’d picked up in the gift shop, he’d cranked the machine up to high speed and was sprinting. His arms pumped as his legs carried him forward. He was breathing hard, his chest working with the effort. Though his shirt didn’t hug his body, it nevertheless hinted at the muscle underneath—the exact firm flesh she’d caressed with her palms during sex.

  No matter how many times she studied him, the sight of him always captivated her. No matter what he wore—a tux, casual dress, or exercise clothing—he filled it out to perfection. He was, quite simply, the perfect image of a human male in his prime—part intellect and part animal. The animal reached ins
ide her, compelling her to watch him. Daring her to look away while knowing she couldn’t. Making her want him, deep in her bones.

  Even now, after he’d left her once and very likely was doing everything he could to sabotage her company and her dreams, she still craved him. His smiles, his kisses, the way he moved inside her, giving her orgasm after shattering orgasm.

  He glanced over and caught her staring, and a self-satisfied smile covered his face. He was red from exertion, and sweat had begun to accumulate around his neck and down the center of his chest, but he kept right on running. She, on the other hand, was hardly moving, so she climbed off her machine and gave in to the pleasure of knowing that the most handsome man in the world—and the greatest lover—was hers while they stayed on this island.

  “How long can you keep that pace up?” she asked.

  “Depends,” he answered.

  “On what?”

  “On what I’m running away from,” he said. “Or to.”

  “I’d never catch you.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” He pressed the speed button on the treadmill, slowing the pace down to a walk.

  “Cooldown?” she said.

  “Enough exertion for one day. Unless you had something else in mind.”

  She always had something else in mind around him, but today, something more than sex occupied her brain. She was going to have to face a vote of no confidence when she got home—a vote she had no guarantee of surviving. Especially after that story about Westmore Hotels in the gossip column.

  “Did you happen to check Investments Insider yesterday?” she asked.

  He hesitated, almost stumbling, before he hit the Stop button and halted the treadmill. “I did.”

  “You must have seen the mention of my company.”

  “It was hard to miss.” He pulled the T-shirt over his head and mopped the sweat from his chest with it.

  “How do you suppose it got there?”

  He stared at her. His skin still held a flush, but that could be from his running. “I wouldn’t know.”

  What had she expected? That he’d come out and admit he’d planted that item in the column virtually everyone in business read? The kid just out of college might not have lied to her, but he’d had ten years to get a harder edge to him. He’d hated her for what he saw as her betrayal. The fact that they were having incredible sex didn’t change that.

  “What I’m trying to figure out is how long the columnist has had the information.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Has he been sitting on it or did someone just now plant the story in his ear?”

  “I wouldn’t know that, either,” he said.

  “You’ve been trying to shut me down,” she said.

  He huffed. “Do we have to get into that again?”

  “How do I know you’ve stopped?”

  Still holding his T-shirt in one fist, he put his hands on his hips. The subject was too important for her to allow herself to become distracted, but damn…he was so fine to look at. Those firm pecs and abs. The way his shorts slung low on his hips. He was nearly naked.

  “I let you kidnap me,” he said. “I don’t think I’m the bad guy here.”

  “That’s not the point.” She wasn’t getting anywhere dancing around what she needed to know. Did she really want an honest answer from him? Yes. She needed to know the truth. “Did you plant that story?”

  His jaw went rigid. “I did not.”

  “Then someone who works for you—”

  “I am not the source of that story,” he interrupted. “And I don’t know who was.”

  He seemed far too defensive, protesting way too much. Okay, maybe he wasn’t directly responsible for that item in the column, but he might have a good idea who was, and he wasn’t telling. On the other hand, maybe he felt guilty for what he’d done to harm her company to begin with. One way or another, something was at play here. And maybe it had to do with the phone call the other morning, the one she’d almost interrupted while he was on the porch of their cottage.

  “You don’t trust me, do you?” he said.

  She lifted her chin and met his gaze. “Should I?”

  “I’m not a liar.”

  “I didn’t say you were,” she said. “There are ways of telling the truth without giving the whole story.”

  “Oh, brother.” He waved the hand holding the T-shirt. “That’s rich. It really is.”

  Okay, he was angry. And clearly she wasn’t going to get any more information from him. But she had to find out. Maybe she should stand up for herself, letting him know she wasn’t going to take any more interference from him or his people.

  “I’ve never lied to you,” he said. “About anything.”

  Except about the most important thing between them—that he’d come back for her. He might have meant those promises when he’d made them, but he hadn’t kept them. Still, she’d shed enough tears over that, and she was not going to discuss it with him now. That was then. She had the present to deal with.

  “Oh, no.” He stared at her. “I know what you’re thinking.”

  “I don’t think you do.”

  “You still haven’t forgiven me for what happened all those years ago.”

  Of all the nerve. “Have you forgiven me?

  “I hated your father,” he said. “I still do.”

  “He was all I had, Adam.”

  “Give him up.” He dropped the T-shirt and approached her. “Baby, you have all the money you’ll ever need. Why do you want to hang on to a failing business that’ll only bring you grief?”

  “It’s not failing. Haven’t you looked around you the last few days? This place is not only beautiful, it’s hot and new. I’m going to make a huge success of it.”

  He took her face between his palms. “And if you do, then what? Work seventy-hour weeks for the rest of your life, trying to top each success with a bigger one?”

  “Is that what you do?”

  That seemed to take him aback. He dropped his arms. “It’s not for everyone.”

  “Meaning it’s not for a spoiled little rich girl.”

  “You didn’t have to scratch and fight and do without to get by,” he said.

  “Getting by isn’t enough, Adam. The only identity I’ve ever known was my father’s daughter. No one ever took me seriously.” Except the young man who’d driven her father’s limousine and listened to her dreams of being someone in the world. She hadn’t decided exactly what path to take, back then. She’d been so young. Then he’d left her and taken her faith and her dreams with him. And he’d made something of himself, while she’d languished in her father’s shadow. And had almost married Holst.

  “I have something of my own now,” she said. “This company. I might fail, but I have to try.”

  “All right.” He held his hands up in surrender. “I know what it is to feel driven. I almost wouldn’t wish that on you.”

  “It’s not your call to make.”

  “Fine, but remember…I’m not your enemy,” he said.

  And that might be the most insincere thing he’d said since this conversation started. She still couldn’t know. Maybe she’d made some progress with him…and maybe she hadn’t. Could two enemies really have the kind of sex they’d had since that night on her yacht and have nothing change? She didn’t know.

  …

  The deception still roiled in Adam’s gut. He hadn’t lied to Nicole, but—as she’d guessed—he hadn’t told the complete truth, either. He didn’t know who’d planted that item in Investments Insider. His best guess, though, would be Vivian, certainly. But he didn’t know that for a fact. The state of Westmore Hotels was common knowledge in the industry. Why should he bring up what Nicole would consider the ultimate betrayal—his partnership with her hated former stepmother—if he didn’t have to?

  He sat at the table in their cottage on the cove and watched her prepare dinner. It was exactly the sort of scene he’d fantasized about when he’d been young and in love.
And for once in a very long time, he faced an inner struggle.

  Did he still hate her? No. Did he still hate her father? Sure, but what was the point? The man was dead, and Adam was having sex with his daughter again. That in itself would have the bastard spinning in his grave.

  Did he still want to sink Westmore Hotels? Getting rid of the competition was a good business move, revenge or not.

  But the most important issue involved his own emotions. If he was having honeymoon sex, would he be able to walk away when he’d had enough? Hell, would he ever have enough of this woman? Sometime soon, he’d have to return to the office. And she’d have to go back to work. They’d leave here, and then what? Could he do without her, or was he already in too deep?

  He’d tried just about everything one body could do with sex, and it had all been fantastic for him and for all his partners. But none of it compared with being with this woman, even in the most ordinary of ways. Emotion—feelings—had to account for the difference. You had honeymoon sex with someone you loved. Grant hadn’t said that, but he’d implied it. Was he falling in love with Nicole all over again? Good God in heaven.

  She glanced over her shoulder at him. “You look pensive.”

  “I was only wondering if you’ve become domesticated,” he lied.

  She laughed. “Not likely. I love to cook, but I’m happy to have someone else clean up.”

  “Spoiled little rich girl.”

  “There are some good things about being spoiled and rich.” She picked up a colander full of greens and a bowl and approached the table.

  “Here,” she said as she put both in front of him. “How good are you at tearing up lettuce for a salad?”

  “I promise you, I can tear up anything you want.”

  She laughed again. She seemed to do it easily, quite in contrast with the tense woman who’d confronted him at Grant’s sister’s wedding. They were getting along now…more or less. As long as she didn’t find out about Vivian.

  She went back to work near the sink, shelling shrimp for a Cajun dish. An array of spices and fresh herbs stood all around her cutting board. This promised to be quite a feast.

  He had to end the honeymoon before he lost control of his emotions completely. They were competitors, and he might still end up taking over Westmore Hotels. If he did, she’d hate him, and they’d end up back at square one. No. He had to get back to New York and get some distance from her so he could clear his head and figure out where to go from here.