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About the Author

MAUREEN CHILD is a California native who loves to travel. Every chance they get, she and her husband are taking off on another research trip. The author of more than sixty books, Maureen loves a happy ending and still swears that she has the best job in the world. She lives in Southern California with her husband, two children and a golden retriever with delusions of grandeur.

You can contact Maureen via her website www.maureenchild.com.

Reasons for Revenge

Scorned by the Boss

Seduced by the Rich Man

Captured by the Billionaire

Maureen Child

www.millsandboon.co.uk

All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.

All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II B.V./S.à.r.l. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

^® and ^TM are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ^® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

First published in Great Britain 2012

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited.

Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR

REASONS FOR REVENGE © by Harlequin Enterprises II B.V./S.à.r.l 2012

Scorned by the Boss, Seduced by the Rich Man and Captured by the Billionaire were first published in Great Britain by Harlequin (UK) Limited in separate, single volumes.

Scorned by the Boss © Maureen Child 2007 Seduced by the Rich Man © Maureen Child 2007 Captured by the Billionaire © Maureen Child 2007

ebook ISBN: 978-1-408-97047-8

Version: 2018-07-18

Scorned by the Boss

Maureen Child

Dear Reader,

Scorned by the Boss is the first book in a trilogy about three women who are best friends.

We all know what that means. There are things we can tell a girlfriend that we would never admit to anyone else. And in these three books, you’ll see that Caitlyn, Janine and Debbie work together to help each other through the uncharted jungles of love.

In the first book, you’ll meet Caitlyn and her boss, Jefferson Lyon. Caitlyn’s been running Jefferson’s business and personal life for years, but she’s finally had enough. When she quits her job, though, things start to get interesting …

Also, I hope you really enjoy reading Seduced by the Rich Man and Captured by the Billionaire, and I hope you’ll let me know what you think of Cait, Janine and Debbie …

Happy reading,

Maureen

www.maureenchild.com

To friendship. That amazing, wonderful sense of belonging you can only find with someone who knows the real you and loves you anyway.

And to my friends, thanks for everything.

One

Caitlyn Monroe knocked once, then entered the lion’s den.

She was prepared, like any good lion trainer, for whatever might be waiting for her. A furious, chained beast looking for something to chew on? Probably. A pussycat? Not likely. In the three years she’d worked for Jefferson Lyon she’d learned that the man was much more likely to be snarly and aggressive than accommodating.

Jefferson was used to getting his own way. In fact, he accepted nothing less. Which was what made him both an amazingly successful businessman and a sometimes pain-in-the-neck boss.

But this she was used to. Dealing with Jefferson’s demands was normal. And after the jolt she’d had over the weekend, she was ready for the normal. The everyday. The routine. She appreciated the fact that she knew Jefferson Lyon. Knew what to expect and wouldn’t be blindsided by something shattering coming out of nowhere.

No, thanks, she thought. She’d had enough of that Saturday night.

Her boss looked up when she entered, and just for a minute, Caitlyn allowed herself to appreciate the view. Jefferson’s jaw was strong and square, his blue eyes piercing enough to see through any attempts at deception and his tawny hair cut and styled to lay fashionably at his collar. A modern-day pirate with less conscience, when it came to business, than Bluebeard.

Most of the people who worked for him walked a wide berth around the magnate. Just the sound of him coming down the halls was usually enough to send people scattering. He had the reputation of being a hard man. Not always fair about it, either. He didn’t suffer fools easily and expected—demanded—perfection.

So far, Caitlyn had been able to provide it. She ran his office and most of his life with proficiency. As Jefferson Lyon’s personal assistant, she was expected to hold her ground against his overpowering personality. Before she had come to work here, the man had gone through assistants every couple of months. But Caitlyn was the youngest of five children in her family and she was more than used to speaking up and making herself heard.

“What is it?” he snapped and lowered his gaze back to the sheaf of files strewn across his wide mahogany desk.

Situation normal, Caitlyn thought as she let her gaze slide around the huge office. The walls were painted a deep twilight-blue, and several paintings of Lyon ships at sea dotted the wide expanse. There were two plush leather sofas facing each other in front of a gas fireplace that was cold now and a conference table sat beside a wet bar on the other side of the room. Behind Jefferson’s desk, floor-to-ceiling windows provided a gorgeous view of the harbor.

“And good morning to you, too,” she said, not put off by the attitude. God knows she’d had plenty of time to adjust to it.

When she’d first started working for him, Caitlyn had foolishly thought that as his assistant, she would be sort of his partner. That they would have a working relationship that would be more than his issuing orders and her leaping to fulfill them.

Hadn’t taken long to disabuse her of that notion.

Jefferson didn’t have partners. He had employees. Thousands of them. And Caitlyn was simply one of the crowd. Still, it was a good job and she was good at it. Besides, she knew he’d be lost without her, even if he wasn’t consciously aware of that little fact.

Walking across the room, she laid a single sheet of paper down on top of the files and waited for him to pick it up and study it. “Your attorneys faxed over the numbers on the Morgan shipping line. They say it looks like a good deal.”

He glanced at her again and she saw a flash of interest. “I decide what looks like a good deal,” he reminded her.

“Right.” She bit her lip to keep from saying that if he hadn’t wanted his attorneys’ opinion, then why ask for it? It wouldn’t do any good, and frankly, he wouldn’t want to hear it. Jefferson Lyon made his own rules. He would listen to some opinions, true, but if he didn’t agree with them, then he blew them off and did whatever he thought best.

She tapped the toe of her black high-heeled shoe against the plush ocean-blue carpet. While she waited, she looked past Jefferson at the sea stretching out for what seemed forever. Passenger liners vied with cargo ships at the busy harbor. Several of those cargo ships boasted the stylized bright red lion that was the Lyon shipping company’s logo. Tugboats steered boats three times their size safely out to sea. Traffic streamed over the Vincent Thomas Bridge and sunlight glittered off the surface of the ocean like diamonds, winking.

Lyon Shipping operated out of San Pedro, California, right on top of one of the busiest harbors in the country. From here, Jefferson could turn around and look at his ships as they steamed in and out of the harbor. He could see the day-to-day workings on the docks—the heavy cranes, the dockworkers loading and offloading, the steady flow of ocean traffic that made him one of the most wealthy men in the world.

But Jefferson wasn’t the type to turn and admire the scenery. Instead, he spent most of his time with his back to the window and his gaze fixed on spreadsheets.

“Is there something else?” he asked when she didn’t leave.

She shifted her gaze to his and felt the same jolt she always did when those blue eyes of his made contact with hers. Instantly, she thought of the conversation she’d had with Peter, her now ex-fiancé, on Saturday night.

“You don’t want to marry me, Cait,” he said, shaking his head and pulling out his wallet. He yanked out a twenty, tossed it onto the table to pay for their drinks, then looked at her again. “It’s not me you’re in love with.”

Caitlyn looked at him as if he’d sprouted another head. “Hello? Wearing your ring.” She waved her hand at him, just in case he’d forgotten about the two-carat solitaire he’d presented her with just six months before. “Who else do you think I’m interested in marrying?”

Peter blew out a breath. “Isn’t it obvious? Every time we’re together, all you do is talk about Jefferson Lyon. What he did, what he said, what he’s planning.”

Did she, really? She hadn’t actually noticed. But, even if she did, so what?

“You talk about your boss, too,” Caitlyn reminded him hotly. “It’s called conversation.”

“No, it’s not just conversation. It’s him. Lyon.”

“What about him?”

“You’re in love with him.”

“What?” Caitlyn’s voice hit a shrieky sound only dogs should have been able to hear. “You’re crazy.”

“I don’t think so,” Peter said. “And I’m not going to marry someone who really wants someone else.”

“Fine,” Caitlyn said, tugging the diamond from her finger and laying it on the table in front of him. “Here. You don’t want to marry me? Take your ring. But don’t try to blame this on me, Peter.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” he said, shaking his head. “You don’t even see how you feel about that guy.”

“He’s my boss. That’s all.”

“Yeah?” Peter scooted out of the booth and stood beside the table, staring down at her. “You go right ahead thinking that, then, Cait. But just so you know, Lyon’s never going to see you as anything other than his assistant. He looks at you and sees another piece of office equipment. Nothing else.”

Caitlyn didn’t even know what to say to that. She’d been blindsided by this whole conversation. All she’d done was tell him about Jeff’s plans to buy a cruise ship and how she’d miss the trip to Portugal to check it out because of their upcoming wedding. Then Peter’s whole attitude had changed and he’d launched into the unexpected calling off of a wedding she’d spent six months putting together.

Just a month off now, the invitations had gone out, the gifts were already pouring in, substantial deposits had been made to the cliffside locale in Laguna. And now it seemed she’d be canceling everything.

Why in the world would Peter think she was in love with her boss? For god’s sake, Jefferson Lyon was arrogant, pushy, proud and, well, downright annoying. Was she supposed to hate her job? Would that have made life easier for Peter?

“I’m sorry it worked out like this,” Peter said, and started to reach out one hand toward her. He caught himself just in time, though, and let his hand fall back to his side. “I think we would have been good together.”

“You’re wrong about me,” she said, looking up at a man she’d thought to spend the rest of her life with.

“For your sake,” Peter said wistfully, “I wish that were true.”

Then he left, and Caitlyn was alone with a naked finger and a yawning emptiness inside her.

“Caitlyn!”

Jefferson’s voice snapped at her like a rifle shot and wrenched her from her memories. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Not like you to be so unfocused,” he said.

“I was just …” What? she asked herself. Are you really going to stand there and tell him that your fiancé broke up with you because he thinks you’re in love with the boss? Oh, wouldn’t that be a good time? Get it together, Caitlyn.

“Just, what?” he asked, shooting her a half-interested glance as he studied the spreadsheet in front of him.

“Nothing.” She wasn’t going to tell him. Not about canceling the wedding. Oh, she’d have to eventually, since she’d put in for four weeks of honeymoon time. And now, sadly, she wouldn’t be needing it. “I wanted to remind you—you’ve got a two o’clock appointment with the head of Simpson Furniture and a dinner date with Claudia.”

Jefferson leaned back in his deep navy-blue leather chair, folded his hands over his midsection and said, “Don’t have time for Claudia today. Cancel it, will you? And … send her something.”

Caitlyn sighed, already anticipating the conversation she’d have to have with Claudia Stevens, the latest in a long string of gorgeous models and actresses. Claudia wasn’t used to men not dropping to their knees to adore her. She wanted Jefferson Lyon’s complete attention and she was never going to get it.

Caitlyn had known this would be coming. The man always canceled out on his dates. Or, rather, he had her cancel them. To Jefferson, work always came first and his life a very slow second. In three years she’d never seen him date a woman longer than six weeks—and those that lasted that long were seriously forgiving women.

Peter was sooooo wrong about her. She could never love a man like Jefferson Lyon. There was simply no future in it.

“She won’t be happy.”

He gave her a brief conspiratorial smile. “Hence the gift. Think jewelry.”

“Fine,” she said. “Gold or silver?”

He straightened up, grabbed his pen and turned back to the sheaf of papers awaiting his attention. “Silver.”

“What was I thinking?” Caitlyn muttered—because, of course, gold wasn’t gifted until the woman in question had lasted at least three weeks. “I’ll take care of it.”

“I have every confidence in you,” he said, but she was already leaving, walking back across the immense office. “And Caitlyn?”

She stopped, turned to look at him and noticed that the sunlight filtering in through the shaded glass gilded his hair. Frowning at that stray thought, she said, “Yes?”

“No interruptions today. Except for the two o’clock, I don’t want to be disturbed.”

“Right.” She walked through the door, closed it behind her and leaned back against it.

She’d made it. Made it through without once caving in to the shakes still quivering her stomach. Made it without feeling her eyes well up or her temper spike. She’d managed to hold it together and talk to Jefferson without once letting her emotions slip through.

After all, just because her fiancé had dumped her didn’t mean life as she knew it was over.

Jefferson worked through the day, got most of the immediate problems taken care of and finally looked up around six. Behind him, the sun was spreading color across the sky as it slid into the ocean. He didn’t take the time to admire it, though. There were still plenty of things that needed his attention. Most importantly the new bid on the passenger liner he was buying. A glance at the cover letter had him wincing and stretching out one hand to hit the buzzer on the intercom.

“Caitlyn, I need to see you.”

She opened the door a minute later, her purse slung over her shoulder as if he’d caught her on her way out. “What is it?”

“This,” he said, standing up and walking across the room. He held out the paper to her and said, “Read the second paragraph.”

Jefferson watched her tuck a strand of dark blond hair behind one ear as she read the document. And he saw her expression change slightly as soon as she caught the error he’d found only moments ago. This wasn’t like her. The best assistant he’d ever had, Caitlyn simply didn’t make mistakes. It was one of the reasons they did so well together.

His world ran smoothly, just the way he wanted it to. No surprises. No jolts. Everything neatly laid out in a pattern he chose. For Caitlyn to suddenly start making errors sent unexpected ripples through his universe.

“I’ll fix it immediately,” she said, lifting her gaze to his.

“Good. But what concerns me most is that the mistake happened in the first place.” He jabbed his index finger at the line that had caught his attention. “Offering five hundred million dollars for the cruise ship I’ve already agreed to pay fifty million for is not acceptable.”

She blew out a breath that ruffled the dark blond hair over her big brown eyes. “I know. But, Jefferson, no one saw this but you. It’s not as if the offer actually went out this way.”

“It could have.”

“But it didn’t.”

He folded his arms across his chest and looked down at her. Even in her high heels, she came in a good five inches shorter than his own six feet two inches. “This isn’t like you.”

She sighed again and admitted, “I didn’t type this up. Georgia did.”

Impatience lit a fire in his belly. He was a man who expected the same perfection from his employees as he did from himself. And as his admin, Caitlyn was responsible for the paperwork generated from this office. The fact that she was subcontracting to the secretaries irritated him.

“And why was Georgia involved at all? The woman is just barely competent.” An older woman, Georgia Morris had been with his family’s company for twenty years. She was practically an institution at Lyon Shipping. But that didn’t mean that Jefferson was blind to the woman’s ineptitude.

He was all for loyalty, but he had his limits.

Instantly, though, Caitlyn went on the defensive. Her posture straightened up and her chin rose to a defiant tilt. “Georgia’s perfectly competent. She works hard. This was a simple mistake.”

“Worth four hundred and fifty million dollars.”

She winced. “She was trying to help me out.”

“And why do you suddenly need help in doing a job you’ve performed for two years?”

“Three.”

“What?”

“Three years,” she said on a huff. “I’ve worked for you for three years.”

He hadn’t realized that. But at the same time, it was as if she’d always been there. A part of his day. An integral part of his business.

“Even more of a reason you shouldn’t require assistance,” Jefferson said, baffled at the way her eyes were beginning to flash. What in hell did she have to be upset about?

As if she’d read his mind, she took a moment and deliberately tried to calm herself. A long, deep breath, a tightening of her jaw and a long exhalation passed before she spoke again.

“I was having a hard day,” she finally said. “Georgia was being nice.”

“Nice doesn’t get the work done,” Jefferson said tightly. He had no interest in why Caitlyn had been having a “hard day.” He didn’t get involved in his employees’ personal lives. Made for a quagmire in the office. Better that everyone kept their personal lives personal.

“No surprise there,” she muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

He scowled at her. “And if you’re still planning on having Georgia take over for you while you’re on your honeymoon, think again. Arrange with a temp agency to send someone here who’ll be able to get the job done without costly mistakes.”

“That won’t be necessary,” she said, slinging her purse off her shoulder and heading for her desk.

Jefferson laughed shortly and followed her. “It’s very necessary. You’ll be gone four weeks, and Georgia running this office is unacceptable—not to mention impossible.”

“No,” Caitlyn said as she pulled out her desk chair and booted up her computer. “What I meant was, it won’t be necessary to call a temp agency. I won’t be leaving, after all.”

Frowning, Jefferson walked around her desk, watching her as she set the cover letter down and prepared to retype it. It was only then he noticed that the diamond she’d worn for the last six months was missing from her left hand. This then was the reason for the hard day.

Damn it.

He scrubbed one hand across the back of his neck. He didn’t want to know about her personal life. He preferred keeping business business. If she hadn’t asked for four weeks off for a honeymoon, he might never have known that Caitlyn was getting married at all.

And now it seemed that not only wasn’t the wedding happening but now that she’d brought it up, he was going to be forced into talking about it.

“What happened to the honeymoon?”

“Can’t have one without a wedding,” she quipped brightly, but managed to avoid looking up at him.

What was one supposed to say at a time like this anyway? Sorry? Congratulations? That would be more to his way of thinking. Why anyone would want to get married and link themselves forever to one human being who would no doubt batter them with complaints and whining for the rest of their lives was beyond Jefferson.

Still, better not to offer those particular thoughts. “So it’s off.”

“That would be a yes,” she said, and clicked her mouse to open the word-processing program on her computer.

Apparently he’d been wrong. She had no more interest in talking about her ex than he had in listening to it. God knew that made his life easier. Yet, he couldn’t help wondering why she wasn’t eager to discuss it in detail.

In his experience, females liked nothing better than boring men into comas discussing their feelings, their needs, their desires, their complaints. Clearly, Caitlyn was an exception to that rule.

One eyebrow lifting, he watched as her small, efficient hands moved over the keyboard like a concert pianist’s. Smooth, fast, she was finished in moments and hitting the print button. As a fresh sheet of paper slid from the printer, she reached over, plucked it up and handed it to him.

“There. Crisis averted.”

He studied it briefly, nodded at the change made, then looked at her again. Whatever the reason behind the cancellation of her wedding, she seemed to be handling it well. For which he was grateful. He didn’t want a weeping woman hanging about the office. He wanted his life, his world to travel on in the same way it always had. Seamlessly.

“Thanks.”

She nodded, turned off the computer and gathered up her purse again. “If that’s all, I’m taking off.”

“Fine,” he said, stepping back, already headed back for his office. Then something occurred to him and he stopped on the threshold and looked at her. “Since you’re not getting married, after all, I’m assuming you’ll be available for the trip to Portugal.”

“What?”

Walking into his office, Jefferson kept talking, assuming—rightly—that she would be following after him. “We leave in three weeks. I want to check out the new cruise ship in person. I’ll need you there with me. And since your plans have changed, I see no reason why you shouldn’t be there.”

He sat behind his desk, set the new cover letter atop the official offer and leaned back in his chair as she approached. His gaze narrowed as he noticed the flash of fire in her eyes and the tight slash of her mouth.

“That’s it?” she said. “That’s all you’ve got to say.”

“About what?”

“About my not getting married.”

“What more should I say?”

“Oh,” she countered, “nothing at all.” But her tone clearly indicated she’d expected something more.

“If you’re looking for my condolences, fine. You have them.”

“Wow.” She slapped one hand to her chest and widened her eyes in feigned shock. “That was just so heartfelt, Jefferson. Wait just a minute while I catch my breath.”

“I beg your pardon?” Standing up now, he faced her and watched as thoughts, emotions churned across the surface of her eyes. In the years they had worked together Caitlyn had never become emotional. Sarcastic, yes. But she’d kept their relationship as businesslike as he had. Until just this moment.

“You’re not sorry at all. You’re just glad that I’ll be at your beck and call.”

“You’re always at my beck and call,” he pointed out, not sure exactly where the anger was coming from.

“Oh, for god’s sake. I am, aren’t I?” she asked, staring at him as though she’d never seen him before.

“Why wouldn’t you be?” Straightening up, he laid both hands atop his desk.

“You’re right,” she said. “That’s my job. And I’m good at it. Too good, probably, which is why this is so twisted and messed up now. But Peter was so wrong.”

“Peter? Who’s Peter?”

“My fiancé.” She shot him a withering glance. “My god, I was engaged to the man for six months and you didn’t even know his name.”

“Why would I know the damned man’s name?” Jefferson asked, shoving his hands into his slacks pockets. This conversation was taking a turn he didn’t care for.

“Because,” she pointed out, glaring at him, “in human cultures, it’s considered normal behavior to be interested in your fellow workers.”

He snorted. “You’re not a fellow worker,” he pointed out. “You’re my employee.”

She stared at him, dumbfounded. “And that’s it?”

“What more is there?”

“You know,” Caitlyn snapped, tugging at the purse strap hitched over her shoulder, “I really believe you actually mean that. You have no clue. None whatsoever.”

“About what?”

“If you don’t know, I couldn’t possibly explain it to you.”

“Aah, the last resort of the cornered female,” he said, shaking his head now. “I expected better of you, Caitlyn.”

“And I expected …” She stopped, blew out a hard breath that puffed her bangs up off her forehead so that he was treated to another peek at the dangerous sparks shooting in her eyes. “I don’t know why I expected anything different. So you know what? Never mind.”

“Excellent idea,” Jefferson said, grabbing the opportunity to end this discussion as quickly as possible. For whatever reason, his steady, dependable assistant had slipped off her mental track. “We’ll forget this conversation ever took place.”

“You will, too, won’t you?” Caitlyn tightened her grip on the strap of her purse, turned and headed for the door. “Well, I won’t be forgetting anytime soon, Jefferson.”

She was gone a moment later and he was left with irritation pulsing inside. He wasn’t accustomed to anyone walking out on him. And he didn’t like it.

Two

“Men suck.” Disgusted, Debbie Harris lifted her appletini high.

“Hear, hear!” Janine Shaker picked up her Cosmo and held it poised for a toast.

“Preaching to the choir,” Caitlyn said, and lifted her glass to clink against the rims of her friends’ glasses. Then she took a long sip of her raspberry martini and blew out a breath.

After the weekend she’d had, not to mention that last conversation with Jefferson, it was good to be with her friends. Women who understood. Women she could count on, no matter what.

“Are you okay, honey?” Debbie asked, always the one with the biggest heart and the soul most easily bruised. “I mean, really okay?”

“I’m fine,” Caitlyn said, and surprised herself with the truth of the statement. Good god. She’d been poised to marry Peter, for heaven’s sake. Shouldn’t she be in mourning? Shouldn’t she be weeping miserably in a corner somewhere?

Sure, she’d done some crying over the weekend, but if Peter really had been the love of her life, then wouldn’t she be feeling more … shattered? But she didn’t. And somehow that was even sadder than the breakup of her engagement.

“I cannot believe Peter thinks you’re in love with your boss,” Janine said on a snort of laughter. “Lyon makes you nuts.”

“I think Peter was just scared and needed a reason to back out of the wedding, the big weenie,” Debbie said.

“Yeah, but accusing her of being in love with Lyon?” Janine shook her head. “That’s really stretching.”

At the moment, Caitlyn could hardly even think about Jefferson Lyon without gritting her teeth. In love with him? Not a chance. Attracted? Sure. What red-blooded, breathing woman wouldn’t be? But attraction was where it started and ended.

“Don’t even get me started on Jefferson Lyon,” Caitlyn muttered, and snatched a tortilla chip from the basket in the middle of the table. As she crunched down hard on it, only half pretending she was snapping her boss’s neck in half, she told her friends, “When Jefferson found out the wedding was off, he just said, ‘Oh, good. You can go to Portugal with me after all.’ No I’m sorry, Caitlyn. Are you all right? Do you need to take some time off? Do you want me to kill the jerk for you?” She took a sip of her drink and reached for another chip. “I’m telling you, I came within a hair of quitting.”

“You should’ve,” Debbie said. “Men suck.”

“Where’ve I heard that before?” Janine wondered aloud.

“Funny.” Debbie smirked at her, then turned her gaze back on Caitlyn. “Anyway, Peter obviously had some commitment issues and was just using Lyon as a handy excuse.”

“Well, it was a stupid one,” Caitlyn said. She refused to think about the quick whip of something hot and delicious that usually zapped her whenever she was too close to Jefferson. That was just lust. Or not even that. Just … appreciation for a good-looking guy. That was it. She nodded. Appreciation. Attraction. Nothing else.

“Duh.” Janine shook her head. “But the upside is he gave you a month to call it off. Unlike my own unlamented ex-fiancé, John, who thought three days was more than enough time.”

True. Janine’s ex-fiancé had left her a note, three days before their simple backyard wedding that read only, Sorry, babe. This isn’t for me. Debbie was right, Caitlyn thought. Men really did suck.

“Did you tell your mom yet?” Debbie asked the question, already wincing in anticipation of the answer.

Yep, these friends knew her well. Knew her family. Knew what kind of hell her mother was going to put her through for ruining her only shot at being mother of the bride.

“Yeah, that was a good time.” Caitlyn closed her eyes and sighed, remembering the look of stunned shock, disappointment and frustration that clouded her mom’s face just yesterday when she’d dropped by her parents’ house to deliver the blow.

“Guessing she didn’t take it well?” Janine asked.

“You could say that. You would have thought I’d … No, I can’t even think of anything that could rival how this news hit Mom. She’s had her dress for the wedding since the week after Peter proposed,” she reminded them unnecessarily. “‘Four times,’ she told me yesterday, ‘four times I was mother of the groom. It was my turn to be Mother Of The Bride.’”

“Yikes,” Debbie muttered.

“That about covers it,” Caitlyn said. “She even says the words Mother Of The Bride in capital letters. She’s been so enjoying being in on everything. Heck, the only way I got to pick my own site was because Peter and I were paying for the wedding ourselves. Otherwise mom would have found a cathedral or something. She really was looking forward to a big show. I was her only shot at the brass ring.”

“She’s gonna make you pay.”

Janine grumbled, “She should be making Peter pay.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Caitlyn said with a shake of her head. “The point is it’s over. And now our little circle of dumpdom is complete.”

Debbie looked at her across the table. “I just can’t believe Peter turned out to be a stinker. He seemed so nice.”

Janine finished the last of her drink and scowled down at the empty glass. “They all seemed nice, at first. Mike was great to you until you found out about the other two wives he already had.”

It was Caitlyn’s turn to wince now. Six months ago Debbie had been within a couple of weeks of her own wedding, a planned elopement to Vegas, when she intercepted a phone call for her fiancé, Mike, at his place. Turned out that the woman on the line was Mike’s wife. And by the time it all got sorted out, yet another wife had been discovered. And now Mike was in jail, where every good bigamist should land.

“True,” Debbie mused, and rubbed the empty spot on her ring finger where her antique moonstone had shone brightly up until six months ago. Then she shrugged and looked at Janine. “You were in the worst shape of all of us. Only three days to cancel everything.”

Janine nodded. “John always did have a flair for the dramatic. The creep.”

“It’s been a pretty rotten year, hasn’t it?” Debbie flipped her long blond hair back over her shoulder and looked from Janine to Caitlyn. “Romance wise, I mean.”

“Fair to say.” Janine signaled the waitress by holding up her nearly empty glass. “What’re the odds that all three of us would get engaged and then unengaged in the same year?”

“There’s a cosmic kind of symmetry in it, I admit,” Caitlyn said on a sigh. Running the tips of her fingers through the water mark her glass had left on the glossy tabletop, she added, “At least we have each other.”

“Thank god.” Janine’s brown eyes narrowed as she chewed on the end of a swizzle stick.

Caitlyn took another drink of raspberry-flavored liquor and licked a stray drop off her bottom lip. “All three of us engaged, then dumped. What does that say about us?”

“That we’re too good for the available men around here?” Janine offered, grinning.

“Well, sure, that,” Debbie said with a smile. “But it also says here we are. Monday night and we’re at the same table in the same bar where we’ve been meeting for the last five years.”

“Hey, I like On The Pier,” Janine said, signaling again to the waitress by holding up her empty glass.

“We all do,” Caitlyn threw in, draining her martini to be ready for the second round already on its way. Idly she glanced across the crowded room. There were a few suits, men fresh from work, stopping by to have a quick drink on the way home. But, mostly, the crowd was made up of people like Caitlyn and her friends—relaxed, in jeans and T-shirts, looking to unwind in a comfortable spot.

On The Pier, a tiny neighborhood bar in Long Beach, had been their designated meeting place since they’d all turned twenty-one. Every Monday night, no matter what, the three women had a standing date for drinks and gossip.

And over the last year, as they’d taken turns commiserating with each other over broken engagements, these Monday-night get-togethers had become more important than ever. Caitlyn ran her fingertip around the rim of her glass and studied her two friends thoughtfully. She found herself smiling in spite of the heavy, cold lump settled in the pit of her stomach. The three of them had been friends since high school, when they’d met in detention hall.

Raised with four older brothers, Caitlyn had been hungry for a sister. And with Debbie and Janine she’d found two. They were closer to her than anyone else she knew. “It’s a great neighborhood bar and we know everybody here. It’s our comfort zone.”

“Exactly!” Debbie gulped the last of her drink and set her glass down. Leaning her elbows on the table in front of her, she glanced at each of her friends and said, “That’s my point. We’re all in a comfort zone. We each got dumped and we’re still here. Same spot. Same day. Same time.”

“So?” Janine paused when their waitress delivered their fresh drinks and took away the empty glasses.

When the waitress had gone, Debbie grabbed hers and took a quick gulp of the pale green liquor. “So, why are we content to stay in a comfort zone? Why don’t we break loose? Try something new?”

Caitlyn frowned at her. “Like what?”

“Like …” Debbie paused. “I don’t know offhand. But we should do something.”

“Maybe—” Janine said, then quickly closed her mouth and shook her head. “Nope. Never mind.”

“What?”

“No way do you get to say that and then stop,” Caitlyn protested.

“Fine.” Janine grinned at each of them, then took a sip of her drink. “I’ve been thinking about this for a couple of days now. None of us got married. None of us got the honeymoon we were planning on. And none of us has spent the money we had been saving up for the whole wedding/honeymoon extravaganza.”

“And …” Debbie prompted.

“And,” Janine said, “last night it suddenly occurred to me—why don’t we spend that money together?”

“How?” Caitlyn asked, intrigued enough to listen.

“On a blowout no-holds-barred vacation,” Janine said, clearly warming up to her own idea as she spoke. Her eyes flashed and her grin spread. “I say we each take the four weeks’ time we were going to use for our honeymoons and go on a trip together. We go to some fabulous resort, get waited on, drink, play and get laid as often as humanly possible.”

“You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?” Debbie said.

“Well, yeah,” Janine allowed. “Since Saturday night, when Caitlyn called to tell us about Peter. Really pissed me off. And then I realized that all three of us have had a crappy year. Seems like we owe ourselves a good time.”

Debbie blew out a breath, took a gulp of her drink, then set the glass down on the table. “It does sound good.”

Caitlyn’s blood was humming. She felt excitement stir. She’d had a rotten weekend, a lousy day. And didn’t she deserve to have a little fun? This might be just the ticket. Nodding, she said, “It’s a great idea. When do we go?”

Janine looked at the two of them and laughed. “Two weeks. Enough time to get someone to cover for us at work and not so long that we’ll convince ourselves not to go.”

“She’s right, Caitlyn. If we don’t do it now,” Debbie cautioned, “we’ll talk ourselves out of it.”

“Good point,” Caitlyn said, knowing that she at least would second-guess the whole “fun” principle until she had convinced herself to save the money and go to work like a good girl. “Okay, then, two weeks. If we can get reservations.”

“Uh, hello? Reservations where?” Debbie asked.

The voices in the bar blurred into a soft background noise, mixed with a slow song drifting from the old jukebox in a corner. Outside, a cold ocean wind rattled against the glass, but inside, Janine’s eyes were flashing as she leaned across the table and whispered, “Fantasies.”

“Whoa.” Debbie slouched back in her chair.

“Really?” Caitlyn grabbed her drink and began to consider the possibilities, hardly listening as Janine kept talking. Fantasies was one of the most exclusive, indulgent resort islands in the world. Everything Caitlyn had read about the place suggested wild nights and glorious days filled with romance and pampering.

Just what the three of them needed.

“We’ll never be able to get reservations there,” Debbie protested.

“Already have ‘em,” Janine said with a wink. “I called yesterday and put a deposit down on three rooms. They’d had a few cancellations, so we got lucky. I think it’s fate’s way of telling us this is our time. We need to do it.”

“I can’t believe you’ve already got the rooms.”

“Well,” Janine said, “I figured if I couldn’t talk you guys into it, I could always cancel the reservations.”

A bubble of excitement rose inside Caitlyn and she reached for it greedily. Fantasies. She’d read so much about the place in magazines and celebrity gossip columns, how could she refuse to go in person with her two closest friends? Slapping one hand on the center of the table, she said, “I’m in.”

“Well, we already know I’m in, since it was my idea.” Janine covered Caitlyn’s hand with her own and then both of them turned to look at Debbie.

“This is crazy—you guys know that, right? I mean, we’re just taking off and blowing a ton of money on a few weeks at a resort on a total whim.” Debbie chewed at her bottom lip, looking from one friend to the other and back again.

“What’s your point?” Janine asked.

“Don’t have one,” Debbie said, and laid her hand on top of her friends’. “I was just saying. Anyway, I’m in, too.”

“This is gonna be great,” Caitlyn said, and leaned back in her chair. “I so need this. We all need to get away for a while.”

“Some of us more than others,” Debbie muttered, and nodded in the direction of the door.

“What’s he doing here?” Janine whispered.

Curious, Caitlyn turned in her seat and felt her stomach drop to her toes. Jefferson Lyon walked into the bar as if he owned the place. He stood like a well-dressed statue, his sharp blue eyes scraping the crowd until he found her. Then his gaze narrowed and he headed toward her like a man on a mission.

“Wow,” Debbie whispered. “I never would have guessed he’d come to a place like this.”

“Yeah,” Janine said, “definitely not his style.”

Caitlyn had to agree. In a crowd of blue jeans and board shorts, his Armani suit stood out like a flashing neon light. Of course, Jefferson Lyon stood out in any crowd. He just had that kind of aura. All powerful and sexy and—

Cut that thought off at the pass, she told herself firmly as she stood up to meet him. Just as she told herself that the quick spurt of something hot and heavy moving through her bloodstream was simple surprise at seeing him here.

Heck, she hadn’t even known he’d been aware of On The Pier’s existence.

Her gaze locked on him, but she was also aware of how every female in the room watched him move with open admiration. And how could she blame them? He had a way of walking that suggested both power and languor. He moved like a man who knew how to take charge, but liked to take his time about it. Which, of course, only made a woman wonder what that kind of mixture would be like in bed.

Oh, boy.

“Caitlyn,” he said when he was close enough to be heard over the muttering crowd.

“Jefferson, what are you doing here?” Her voice came out a little sharper than she’d planned.

One eyebrow lifted. “I needed to see you about something that couldn’t wait, obviously.”

“How’d you know where I’d be?”

“It’s Monday night. You’re always here.”

That little nugget of information staggered her. He hadn’t known her fiancé’s name, but he knew she came to this tiny bar every Monday night? “I know I am. How did you know I am?”

He shrugged, glanced at her friends, then looked back into her eyes. “You must have mentioned it.”

And he’d remembered?

Shaking her head, Caitlyn told herself it didn’t matter how he’d found her. “So what did you want, Jefferson?”

He looked down at her friends, watching them with avid interest. Nodding, he then dismissed them entirely and shifted a look around the bar, as if unsatisfied to find himself surrounded by so many people. Taking her upper arm in a firm grip, he half steered her, half dragged her, back to the entryway, where things were a little less crowded.

Caitlyn tried not to think about the tiny spears of heat the touch of his hand sent zipping through her system. She’d clearly had one too many martinis. Once free of the main room, she pulled out of his grasp, crossed her arms over her chest and tipped her head to one side, looking up at him. “What was so important it couldn’t have waited until tomorrow?”

Jefferson stared down at her and realized just how different Caitlyn looked when away from the office. He was so used to her tidy, professional appearance, seeing her with her hair down and loose around her shoulders was more distracting than he would have expected. She wore faded, worn blue jeans that clung to her body like a second skin, a scoop-necked pale blue T-shirt that showed just a hint of cleavage and sandals that displayed long, elegant toes painted fire-engine red.

Even over the combined scents filling the air he could smell her perfume, something light and flowery that she never wore in the office. This was why he preferred business relationships to be kept strictly business. He didn’t want to know that Caitlyn liked red nail polish. Or that she smelled like a damn garden. Or that she had a lush figure hidden beneath the boring business suits she wore to work.

Frowning to himself, he pushed away his wandering thoughts. He hadn’t come to be sociable, after all.

“My father called tonight. He needs me in Seattle tomorrow afternoon. So I’ll need you in the office early to take care of a few things before I leave.”

Instantly, her eyes widened. “Is your father all right?”

“He’s fine,” Jefferson said, somehow pleased that she had cared enough to ask. His father had officially retired as head of the company two years ago, but he’d kept a hand in ever since, unable or unwilling to let go. Then three months ago he’d had a major heart attack and was still recuperating.

Odd, but Jefferson was only now acknowledging that Caitlyn had been the only person he’d talked to about his father’s health. So much for keeping personal lives separate from work.

“Good. I’m glad.” She stared at him for a long minute. “But you couldn’t have called me with this information?”

He could have. Should have. But he’d come for a purpose. To remind her just who was in charge in this relationship. He was the boss. He called the shots. She thought she could stomp out of his office in some kind of female huff? Well, showing up here in person reminded her that Jefferson always got the last word.

Of course, he hadn’t intended on hunting her down in this dinky little bar. He’d planned on driving straight to his condo in Seal Beach. But the more he’d thought about her irritated attitude, the more it had annoyed him. All he knew for sure was that she’d been in the back of his mind when he’d left the office. And for whatever reason, he’d driven to the one place he’d known he’d be able to find her.

“It’s not that far out of the way for me,” he said, and turned when yet another customer shoved through the front door. Irritated, Jefferson caught the door, glared at the surfer stumbling through it, then turned his gaze back to Caitlyn. She was still watching him, her brown eyes glittering with the reflected lights of the room. “Anyway … my flight out is at ten, so I’ll expect to see you at six in the morning.”

“Fine, I’ll be there.” She turned to go back to her friends.

He grabbed her arm to stop her, his fingers closing around her warm, smooth skin. Damned if he’d just stand there and let her walk away from him. Again.

But as soon as he noticed that he was liking the feel of her beneath his fingers, he let her go. Then he grabbed the door behind him, yanked it open and walked through it. Stopping on the threshold, he looked back at her, pleased he was getting the last word tonight after all. “Fine. I’ll see you then.”