CHAPTER 1
Hunter Caine prowled the bar at his father’s Houston country club wedding reception. The only way he’d survived the tedium of the ceremony had been the knowledge there’d be plenty of alcohol later.
“Hit me again,” he told the bartender, placing his second empty on the counter. If he was lucky, he’d be able to escape early. If not, he wanted to be good and drunk if he had to stick around for the duration.
“It’s not all that bad.” Hunter’s brother Xander met him at the bar holding up a finger to signal the bartender he’d take one of the same.
“I hate weddings,” Hunter said.
Xander took a long draw from his beer, then said. “I don’t blame you. After watching Dad do it so many times, I’ll be surprised if any of us get married. You’d think he’d be sick of throwing these big parties.”
“He loves the attention. It’s just another way to say screw you to everyone who doesn’t have as much money as he does.”
“Joke’s on him,” Xander said. “The guests come for the free food and booze. They know it’ll be expensive and plentiful. They don’t give a shit about him getting married again.”
“Let’s hope he quits at four. The novelty wore off a long time ago.”
“Maybe we’ll get another brother out of this one.”
“Like I need another brother. The five I have already are a pain in my ass,” Hunter said, gulping his beer. Giving Xander a hard time made being at the wedding bearable.
“We love you, too,” Xander said, toasting Hunter with a grin.
“Here’s hoping he’s done reproducing,” Hunter said, returning the toast. “I’m thirty-one. Why would I care about any kid he had now?”
“That’s harsh.”
“Whatever. So where’s the rest of the gang?” Hunter did a quick scan of Xander’s cleaned-up wedding look—jeans, biker boots, a white button down, and a black sports coat. He wore his longish blond hair down, and at least his facial scruff was neatly trimmed. He even managed to cover most of his ink.
“Brothers or bikers?”
Hunter smirked. There were enough brothers to make a gang. “Both.”
“Bikers are staying at the state park. The rest of the brothers are lurking around here somewhere. I think we’re all waiting for the earliest possible escape.”
“Did I hear someone say escape?” Damian said, separating himself from the crowd and joining them at the bar.
“Speaking of brothers—“ Xander said.
“You’re a SEAL. Don’t they teach you how to withstand all kinds of torture?” Hunter asked.
“There’s nothing the Navy can teach us to survive this kind of shit.”
Damian ordered a shot of whiskey and downed it in one swallow, then ordered another. As the tallest of the Caine Six, as his father referred to his offspring, Damian was the huge wall of muscle everyone expected from a SEAL. Among his siblings it was also well accepted that he held his alcohol better than the rest. It would take a lot more than two shots of whiskey to lubricate him through the reception.
“Well said,” Xander said.
“What are you boys drinking?”
Hunter closed his eyes for just a moment and sighed as his father, Dalton Caine, approached them through the crowd. Surprisingly only one woman followed him. Usually an entourage of men and women trailed behind him. Hunter only vaguely wondered where the new wife had disappeared to already. He didn’t care.
“Dad,” Xander said by way of greeting.
Damian threw back another shot and gestured to the bartender to keep them coming. He threw his father a nod.
“Congratulations, Dad,” Hunter said.
“Thanks, boys. You know where the rest of your brothers are? I’d like to have a drink with my sons.”
“I think I saw Jaxon hitting on some chick not long ago,” Damian said. “And Bishop’s probably sitting in a corner somewhere, brooding.”
“No idea where Colton is,” Xander offered.
“Well, no matter. I’ll catch up with all of you a little later. There’s still plenty of party left.”
As much as Hunter wished there wasn’t. The look in Damian’s eyes said he agreed.
“I was actually looking for you, specifically, Hunter. I want to introduce you to Allison McDowell. I just hired her a couple of weeks ago as my personal assistant after Elizabeth left, but now that I’m retired, she’s all yours. You haven’t hired a girl of your own yet, have you?”
Hunter’s gaze slid from his father to the woman a few steps behind him. He’d spent the last month facilitating a project on the other side of the state, so he’d missed his father’s newest acquisition.
Tall, blonde, and with model-perfect looks, she was saved from Barbie-boring by sharp blue eyes, lips thinned in disapproval, and arms crossed under impressive breasts. She wore a conservative navy dress and heels that made her long legs appear even longer. She looked ready to stab someone.
He could relate.
His first instinct involved a twitch of his cock and the desire to pull her hair down and run his fingers through it. Leave it to his dad to hire the most beautiful woman he could find as an assistant. He liked to have eye candy in the office. Said it made it more pleasant to be there. For the most part, Hunter disagreed—he didn’t need the distraction—but where Ms. McDowell was concerned, he might be willing to make an exception.
Hunter stepped forward and offered his hand. “Nice to meet you, Allie,” he said, dipping his voice into a smooth, charming timbre.
She looked ready to spit fire, which piqued his interest even more. “It’s Allison, actually.”
He nodded. “Then it’s nice to meet you, Allison. And no, Dad, I haven’t hired anyone yet.”
He’d worked with the company since finishing his undergrad degree in business, and while completing his MBA. He’d had an assistant until just recently when she left for maternity leave, then informed him she and her husband would be moving.
It had been on the tip of his tongue to tell his dad he’d hire his own assistant now that he ran the place, but Allison intrigued him. His father’s misogyny clearly pissed her off, but not enough that she’d quit already, so she must need the job—or want it. The fire in those baby blues suggested intelligence and grit, two very useful traits in the real estate development business.
Her firm, professional handshake surprised him. He’d expected meek from a pretty personal assistant, but she met his gaze without the least bit of intimidation, and if he wasn’t mistaken, maybe just a little bit of challenge. Interesting. He made most people—women especially—nervous. Money and position had a way of doing that, and he’d had both for so long he didn’t even think about it anymore. But as the up-and-coming CEO of Caine Development Corporation, the pandering and flattery had become especially prominent. Allison didn’t offer him any of that bullshit.
“It’s good to meet you, too, Hunter,” she said, emphasizing his given name in response to his use of hers. “I’ll look forward to speaking with you again in the office on Monday.”
“I can’t wait.” He threw her a suggestive wink.
Her lips thinned again in disdain as she released his hand, then turned her back on him, dismissing him outright. It was all Hunter could do not to laugh. She had promise, this one.
To Dalton, she said, “Thank you for inviting me to your wedding, Mr. Caine...”
“…you’re quite welcome,” Dalton said, interrupting whatever she meant to say next. “It’s a good opportunity for you and Hunter to meet, and after the reception we can all sit down and discuss the transition.”
Given her lead-in, she’d meant to excuse herself and leave, but now she’d have to suffer through the entire reception just like Hunter and his brothers. Hunter smothered a smirk. He felt her pain.
“Mr. Caine, it’s your wedding day. Do you really want to spend any part of it talking business?” Allison asked.
Wrong question. It didn’t matter what day it was, Dalton would always talk business before anything else.
“Absolutely,” Dalton said.
She held his gaze for moment, then apparently deciding she had no choice, she nodded. “Fine.”
She flashed an insincere smile at them all, pausing just a beat too long on Hunter, then turned on her heel and headed for the restrooms.
Hunter had the urge to follow, not just because she intrigued him, but also to apologize. And maybe commiserate. She’d been about to escape, and his father had roped her back in. Somebody should be allowed to escape, and if it couldn’t be him, he wanted her to be free of this affair.
“Wow,” Xander said. “She’s not at all what I imagine when I think of a personal assistant.”
“She’s fucking hot, though,” Damian said. He elbowed Hunter in the ribs. “Make it a little easier to go into the office?”
The same thought had crossed Hunter’s mind, though on second thought maybe he’d come on a little too strong with the winking and charm. He didn’t want to scare her away, or worse yet, come across like his father. He was anything but a chip off the Dalton block. Maybe the alcohol and his general dislike of his father’s weddings had gotten to him.
“Just think of her as a cherry on top of the multi-billion-dollar company you inherited from me,” Dalton said, a big grin on his face.
As the oldest son, and the only one interested in taking over the company, it had fallen to Hunter to assume the helm. The rest of his brothers had their own career interests and had never been left wanting for money either from their father or from their own efforts.
“Who’s the blonde beauty stomping away?” Colton asked as he joined them. “Hey Dad, congratulations.”
Dalton slapped Colton on the back. “Thanks, son. That blonde beauty is Hunter’s new personal assistant.”
“Lucky you, bro.”
“So where’s the new wife?” Hunter asked, changing the subject away from himself.
“Gwen’s with her daughter, Cassie, and some family friends. I figured I’d take the chance to find you boys.”
“Aren’t we all one big happy family now?” Xander asked. “They don’t want to join us?”
“Gotta give it some time for everyone to blend,” Dalton said.
“How’s Cassie feel about the new family?” Xander asked.
Dalton shrugged as if the stepdaughter’s opinion was of no consequence to him. “She’s only eighteen, and shy.”
“Guess we have a sister now,” Colton said, his gaze lingering on the girl across the room. Hunter knew that gaze well enough to know Colton better keep his new crush under wraps before Dalton ripped him a new one.
Hunter snorted. “I almost wish I still lived at home for a chance to see Dad try to raise a girl.”
Dalton waved a dismissive hand. “She’s going to college in the fall, so it’ll just be me and Gwen.”
“Darling,” Gwen came up behind Dalton and linked her arm with his. She wore her long black hair swept up, and her wedding attire was a modest champagne-colored suit rather than a girlish white gown. In her mid-forties she was at least ten years Dalton’s junior, but she glowed when she looked up at him, beaming like the new bride she was. Hunter hoped Dalton could make her happy, though knowing his father Hunter figured Dalton was more concerned with whether Gwen could make him happy than the other way around. “The band is about to play the first dance,” she said, tugging on him to follow her.
Until then, the background music had been quiet and piped in by the country club. Now, the band had assembled and were ready to start the dancing portion of the evening.
Dalton turned and kissed Gwen, and to Hunter’s surprise it seemed like he did it with genuine affection. Hunter hardly remembered his own mother. She’d died of cancer shortly after Damian was born. The two stepmothers who had produced Jaxon, Colton, and Bishop had come and gone without the kind of tenderness Dalton showed Gwen. Rita, Jaxon and Colton’s mother, had died in a car accident, and when Dalton discovered what Sylvia, Bishop’s mother was, they’d divorced, and Sylvia had disappeared back to the nature she loved.
“Certainly, my sweet.” Dalton patted her hand and turned to lead her away. “Don’t go anywhere, boys. I still want that drink with all my sons.”
Hunter groaned. So much for a quick escape.
“I’m going to go mingle,” Xander said, swallowing another swig of beer.
“Same,” said Damian. “Maybe I can get myself laid tonight. That would make up for having to stick around.”
Hunter agreed as he scanned the room, his gaze settling on Allison sitting at a table by herself. With her legs crossed, her purse in her laps, and her brows knit above a deep frown, she broadcast the message ‘leave me alone’ loud and clear.
So of course, he couldn’t.
“Excuse me, boys,” he said, stepping away from the bar. “I’m going to go get to know my new assistant a little better.”
Damian snorted. “Good luck with that. She doesn’t seem the warm, friendly type.”
“We’ll see.”
He approached the table as the band leader announced the first dance, and Dalton led Gwen onto the dance floor.
“May I?” he asked, pulling out a chair.
“Be my guest,” she said, though he doubted her sincerity.
“If you have to leave, go ahead. I’ll explain to Dalton,” he said.
“And then hold it against me at work?”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
“Your father would.”
“I’m not my father.”
She lifted a brow, daring him to prove it. To be fair, from the outside there probably didn’t appear to be much difference, other than age. But he really wasn’t that much like his father. He hoped not, anyway.
“Does he really have anything important he wants to discuss, or is he just using a meeting after this reception as another way of asserting authority?” she asked.
Hunter barked a laugh. “You really do have his number, don’t you?”
She tilted her head, “He’s not difficult to figure out.”
“Do you think you have me figured out, too?”
A smirk played on her lips, but said, “I’m not taking that bait. You’re still my boss, for now.”
“For now?”
“I don’t plan to spend my career as a personal assistant. Once I finish law school and pass the bar, I’ll pursue a career as a lawyer,” she said.
He reconsidered his impression of her—feisty, sexy, and smart and ambitious. He liked her even more because of it.
The band invited the rest of the guests to join Dalton and Gwen on the dance floor, and on impulse, Hunter stood and offered his hand.
“Dance?” he asked.
She considered him for a moment, glancing from his eyes to his hand and back, probably wondering at the wisdom of dancing with her boss.
“I’m not much of a dancer,” she said.
“I promise I won’t bite,” he said, then winking again he added, “this time.”
He’d had enough to drink that the remark sounded witty, but not enough that he realized it also sounded lame.
She rolled her eyes, but still stood. She didn’t take his hand, though, just stepped past him toward the dance floor.
The upbeat tempo throbbed in his temples as they joined the rest of the dancing crowd. While he could dance passably well, he still felt awkward in a suit. Allison, however, had completely downplayed her ability to dance. She made an obvious effort to seem uninterested, but she couldn’t hide her grace or the lithe, rhythmic way she moved. That twitch in his pants returned with gusto.
She relaxed as the band transitioned into the next song, and even smiled as she closed her eyes and her arms went up in the air as she shimmied to the music.
Damn.
He did his best to keep up, but she basically ignored him, moving to the music until it changed again, this time a slower song. She opened her eyes and looked around as if she’d forgotten where she was, her cheeks turning pretty pink when she realized she’d relinquished some control over her tightly cinched public persona.
“Um. I’ve got to go,” she said, moving past him.
But he grabbed her hand as she passed.
“One more dance? Then you can go, and I’ll make your excuses to Dalton.”
How could she say no to that? He was releasing her from the obligation of staying, and all it would cost was one more dance.
She nodded, turning into his arms. When she rested her hand on his shoulder and he put his on her waist, it occurred to him that maybe he’d made a mistake.
Yet, that close, her perfume mingled with heat of her body from dancing and so many people so close together on the dance floor, and the scent went to his head.
He pulled her closer, resting their clasped hands against his chest, and reveled in her body tucked into his. He struggled to calm his erection because it seemed rude to nudge her with it after having just met. But she smelled so damn good. Felt so damn good in his arms.
She looked up at him, her pupils dilated, her lips parted, adorably stunned into a sort of surprised silence.
They stood there for just a moment, swaying back and forth, staring into each other’s eyes, and Hunter wondered what her plump, pink lips tasted like, followed immediately by how the hell was he supposed to work with her now?
Apparently, she’d had the same thought, because she cleared her throat and stepped back out of his grasp.
“Okay. Um. Thank you,” she said. “I’ll see you at work on Monday morning.”
Then she turned and fled.
Only then did he realize the music had changed again and he stood alone in the middle of the dance floor, and when he looked around, he found all five brothers laughing at him from various points around the room.
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