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Authors: Geneva Lee

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Reaching for the door, his fingers closed over the handle just as Heidi threw her arms around his neck. Smashing her lips against his, she stuck her tongue in his mouth before he processed what was happening. His body responded to her obvious ardency as he struggled for the doorknob. Jerking the door open, he wrenched away from her and forced his most charming smile onto his lips.

“Call me?” Heidi batted her lashes as if they were butterfly wings.

His grin broadened as he opened the door wider, but it fell from his face when he caught sight of the woman frozen there midknock. The blonde's expression was blank, completely unreadable, but there was ice in her blue-eyed glare. She was nothing like the girl. No, her hair fell to her shoulders in soft, expertly styled waves held back by the Gucci sunglasses perched on her head. Her red pencil skirt matched her lips and hugged the shapely, but obviously toned, thighs that streamed into the longest legs on the highest heels he'd seen for a long time.

The woman stepped aside to allow Heidi to pass. Her momentary shock had worn off, and now her crimson lips twisted into a rueful smile as the girl glanced frantically from Isaac to the stranger before she took off down the hall. He owed her for her timing, that much was certain, but it didn't explain what she was doing here.

“Good afternoon, Isaac.” Distaste colored her greeting.

She wasn't eager to see him, which meant she was here for a reason. He extended his arm. “Come in.”

Chapter Two

Sofia shook off the inauspicious start. Well, she shook off the random girl. The fact that Isaac obviously didn't recognize her was a little harder to dismiss. It wasn't the first time she'd been blindsided by a new client. She'd picked up strung-out, sixtysomething rockers from frat parties and bailed out drunk celebri-tantes under the radar of the paparazzi. She could handle a hungover, beat-up Isaac Blue.

So why did it feel as if she was barely hanging on to her composure?

Maybe because after six years he still looked incredible even with a newly acquired black eye. It hadn't been a surprise to Sofia that Isaac had taken his career so far in so little time. He'd evolved from a lean, good-looking teen heartthrob into a well-built, panty-melting sex symbol. The brown hair that had once hung shaggy past his ears was cropped into a sexy mess just long enough to hold on to, but his eyes and that sinful smirk were the same. He'd been repackaged into a star, and while Sofia found herself drinking in the view as he stalked toward the couch in his low-slung jeans, she couldn't help wondering just how much had changed on the inside.

Striding into the hotel room, she eyed the suite for signs of more life. Thankfully, it had been a one-night stand and not a double, triple or worse. Nobody liked to break up an orgy. Sofia dropped her purse on the table and crossed her arms over her chest as she rounded on him.

“I'm here on behalf of Maxximum Studios,” she informed him, careful to keep her tone measured and professional. This was the stage that an involuntary client was likely to bolt, so it was important to show him his options. Namely, that he had none.

“Apparently Christmas came early. Maxx has outdone himself this time,” Isaac drawled, the rich Southern accent he usually hid seeping through. He circled his finger in the air. “Spin for me, princess.”

Sofia's eyes narrowed as she planted her hands on her hips. She chose to ignore the fact that her father obviously thought strippers were appropriate holiday gifts, but she had to fight the irrational surge of rage that swelled in her at discovering that Isaac was still a ladies' man. He'd been a walking hard-on when they'd first met and nothing had changed after all. “I'm here to save your career.”

“I have to admit that I find that disappointing.” Isaac flashed her a dazzling smile. “Are you sure I can't persuade you to join me?” He leaned back against the couch, crossing his arms behind his head as his eyes flickered to his lap.

“Put a shirt on,” she demanded, “and then we'll talk.”

“Okay,” he said with a shrug, “but I'm so much more open when I'm comfortable.”

Sofia paused to consider this. If a new client had said this she would have called his bluff, knowing the worst-case scenario was that she'd be treated to a glimpse of his birthday suit. But Isaac wasn't exactly a new client, and she'd been to that party before. It was exactly the kind of thing he would do to test a stranger, especially one in a skirt. How many women could resist the sight of a nude Isaac Blue? Sofia didn't have a spreadsheet, but she could guess the stats on her own.

The real question was: Could she resist seeing him like that? An hour ago, she would have said yes, but an hour ago, it had been six years since they'd been in the same room. An hour ago she'd thought the only thing she felt for him was the dull, ghostly pain of betrayal. Now she knew better. But maybe the only way to beat the player was to play by his rules. Never mind that her nipples felt like a set of pushpins just from his proximity and forget the fact that her blood had caught fire in his mere presence. She could totally handle the sight of Isaac's unbelievably perfect six-pack.

The only way to decide was to fall back on her proven methodology. They were still in the first twenty-four hours of the turnaround, which meant they were clearly in the forty-eight-hour assessment period. It was crucial that she spend this time getting to know who her client was, and as much as she thought she knew Isaac, her job was to approach this as a professional. Sofia only had one rule when it came to assessments: she always did them on the client's terms. If they wanted to go to a bar, she went. If their dealer showed up, she stayed out of it.

Knowing exactly what she had to do, she returned his shrug. “If that makes you comfortable, it's fine with me.”

She caught the surprise flicker in his eyes even as he stood and kicked off his designer boots, but by the time he tugged down his zipper, his cocky grin had returned. Isaac pushed his pants to the floor with a triumphant flourish, leaving him standing stark naked before her.

“Feel better?” she asked, gluing her eyes to his in what was likely to be the stare-off of the century.

“Much.” The word oozed with his slow, delicious Georgian accent. He winked at her, and Sofia felt heat flush across her skin.

Goddammit, he still knew how to press all her buttons. Although to be fair she doubted that any hot-blooded woman would have been able to handle the combination of his undeniable charisma and the stack of abs that narrowed into a chiseled V.

“I suddenly feel at a disadvantage, Miss...?”

The overly polite prompt for an introduction reminded Sofia exactly why it didn't matter that Isaac Blue was naked in front of her. Maybe it was the symptom of a bruised ego that she thought he should remember her, but memory problems were far from rare in her clients.

“Miss King. I mean,
Ms.
King.” Then again, maybe he wasn't the only one having trouble with his memory.

“It's a pleasure.” He closed the small distance between them and caught her hand, drawing it up to his lips. She knew his slow-as-honey words came from a mouth that didn't only draw out its sentences. Heat radiated off him, and her eyes felt heavy, as though his mere presence was a powerful opiate. Her own personal drug.

But as he released her hand, she caught sight of his ink-stained fingertips. Sofia snapped back to reality, stepping away from him and tugging at her blouse as she shook her body free of his intoxicating effects.

“We should get to work,” she informed him, switching into business mode. “You're expected on set tomorrow.”

Isaac frowned, running a hand through his tangled black hair. “I'm expected on set on Tuesday.”

“Tomorrow is Tuesday.”

“What the hell happened to Sunday?” He strode toward the bedroom, abandoning his flirtatious charade, and began ransacking the top of the dresser.

Sofia watched, mentally noting what she saw in his bedroom. No evidence of drugs. That was a good sign. Although there were some empty beer bottles. That wasn't so good. Other than that, there was the usual contents of a guy's pockets spilled across the bureau: loose coins, a wallet and a couple of condoms.

Intact condoms.

Still-wrapped condoms.

Unused condoms.

She hated herself for noticing.

“Lose something?” she asked, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorway.

“My phone,” he snapped, “my Sunday and, apparently, my mind.”

Sofia's mouth curved into a satisfied smile. She was right on track after all. “That's why I'm here.”

* * *

Isaac wanted to kiss the smug smirk off her painted lips and then nail her to the wall to show her exactly who had the upper hand here. But right now, and he hated to admit it, she did. He'd almost had her, calling her bluff when she pretended not to know him. As if he couldn't see through her icy, hands-off act.

Fia Maxx might be calling herself by a new name. She might even have transformed from a nubile eighteen-year-old hottie to a gorgeous cock-teaser, but she couldn't fool him. Not that he wouldn't mind getting to know Ms. King a little bit better, particularly the lush, full breasts swelling under her fitted blouse.

Isaac pressed his body into the side of the dresser to hide his growing erection. Wood to hide wood. He'd be able to laugh about it later, but right now all he could think about was hoisting Fia's long legs around his waist and riding her until her head fell back as she unraveled. She might have changed, but there was no way her O-face had—there was no improving on perfection.

Sure, she was playing it cool right now, but he'd seen her quietly squirming when he'd dropped his pants for her. She could try to pretend she didn't feel the same electric connection that had sizzled between them six years ago, but there was no denying it was still there sparking and crackling since she'd walked back into his life.

And he was going to show her exactly what she'd been missing.

All he had to do was play along, let her think she could fix him or whatever her plan was, and he'd be back in her good graces and her panties. There hadn't been a week that Fia Maxx hadn't popped into his head since she'd disappeared without a word, and he needed to make up for lost time.

He'd fuck her out of his system. That was all. Give the studio what they wanted and get what he needed—Sofia spread naked on his bed. It was a win-win situation.

He just had to regain the upper hand.

“Is this what you're looking for?” she asked, waving his cell phone at him from the bedside table.

“It is,” he said.

Sofia held it out for him, and he paused. If he walked over and took it there was no way to hide his arousal from her. But if he stayed put, she'd guess why he wasn't moving. Might as well give her something to look forward to. Isaac moved toward her, his dick rigid as a tent pole. Sofia's eyes widened a little and she snapped her gaze up to his. It was too late. He'd caught her looking, and he'd seen exactly what he expected to in her momentarily thawed eyes: lust.

There was a chance he could sweep her onto the bed right here and now. Their gazes locked on one another, and he knew she was imagining the same thing. His hands hiking her skirt around her shapely hips as she wrapped herself around him. He'd rip off her silky stockings. Sofia's mouth quirked into a grin and she shook her head slightly as if she knew what he was thinking.

He wouldn't have to rip them off. Ms. King was definitely the type of woman that wore a garter belt. Even better. But she couldn't stop him from shredding her panties. Isaac could almost feel her stilettos digging into his tailbone now.

Sofia's teeth sunk into her bottom lip, and he knew she wouldn't stop him, which was why he took the phone and turned away. It would be too easy to pick up where they had left off. He wanted her to sweat it a little, get her good and hot for it, so he could enjoy making her scream his name all night long.

“Thanks,” he said, clearing the thick desire from his throat. “It
is
Monday.”

He heard her sharp intake of breath. “It is,” she said in a clipped tone. “I'll be back to help you sort out the rest of your life in the morning—and to make certain you make it on set. Try not to get arrested before then.”

She strolled past him, chin tilted up, eyes focused toward the door. Isaac's hand flew out and caught her wrist, drawing her slightly closer. Pressing his mouth to the hollow behind her ear, he dropped a soft kiss on the sensitive spot. He smiled as a shiver rolled through her.

“No promises,” he whispered and released her.

Chapter Three

Sofia motioned for another bourbon, slamming it back as soon as the glass was in her trembling hands. Had she really thought she could walk up to Isaac Blue and leave unscathed? He was scorching hot, unpredictable and totally infuriating. Half an hour with him had made her revert from a sophisticated professional to a panting teenager. She should have slapped him. She should have found his bad-boy antics crude. The problem was she didn't.

Never once had she felt the need to drown her sorrows after a day on the job and here she was, throwing back booze as if her life depended on it. Her only saving grace was that she'd managed to wait until five in the evening, the socially acceptable drinking hour, and that she'd got in touch with an old friend to join her.

Belle appeared in the doorway and quite a few heads swiveled around to watch her as she made her way toward Sofia. There was no denying that Belle was a knockout especially in a leather miniskirt and boots. She looked like Grace Kelly and dressed like a pop star—every guy's fantasy. More than a few of the men murmured appreciatively as the two blondes hugged one another before settling back onto their barstools.

“I'm so glad you could come on such short notice. I was worried about dragging you from your fiancé,” Sofia said, grabbing Belle's hand and inspecting her insanely gorgeous engagement ring.

“Stuff and nonsense.” She waved off Sofia's concern with her free hand while preening under the attention. “He's out of town and my flatmate has recently discovered the joys of sex.”

Sofia laughed at this, letting go of her friend's hand. “Hot guy?”

“You could say that.” Belle gestured to the barkeep for a drink and then turned back to Sofia with a wide smile. “So what brings you to town—business or pleasure?”

Sofia grimaced at the reminder of Isaac. Right now she needed Belle to distract her with tales of London and wedding plans and booze.

Belle cocked her head to the side, studying her. Sometimes it was like looking at a mirror, Sofia thought. Belle had the same naturally blond locks and fair skin. They'd even managed to fool a few teachers during the years that they'd attended the same boarding school in Suffolk while her father opened the London branch of Maxximum Studios. Even now, they could probably pass for sisters if they could still pull off each other's accents.

“Out with it, Fia,” Belle demanded.

Sofia sighed and shook her head. It was going to take a lot more to get her talking about Isaac than Belle's demands no matter how insistent she became. “No one calls me Fia anymore.”

“I do.” Belle ordered another round. “You're not getting out of telling me.”

“You'll have to pry it from my cold, dead lips,” Sofia said, taking the new drink with a tight smile.

Belle laughed. “No, I won't. I'll just have to pry it from your warm, drunk lips.”

Sofia raised her glass and the women clinked the rims. “Challenge accepted.”

* * *

Two hours later Belle hauled Sofia from the billiards table where she was bragging to a group of amused men while swinging a pool cue in erratic, dangerous arcs around her.

“Ah, Belle! I was going to kick their asses!” Sofia flopped into the corner booth and accepted a glass of water grudgingly.

“You are pissed,” Belle said, giggling. “You must hold a lightweight record.”

“I'm jet-lagged,” Sofia pouted.

“You're not just drunk, though.” Belle wagged her finger at her knowingly. “Fia, your feathers are ruffled.”

Sofia took a deep breath, but the bourbon coursing through her bloodstream was making it impossible to hold back the truth. “Daddy sent me over here to do a turnaround.”

“It must be going well,” Belle said dryly.

“You have no idea.” Sofia dropped her head to the table, trying to sort through the thoughts and emotions swimming in her alcohol-soaked brain. She couldn't discuss a client with Belle. Sofia might not be a licensed therapist or a doctor, but she took confidentiality as seriously as if she were. Still, Isaac was hardly a regular client, and after how she'd lost control this afternoon—after she'd come close to reaching out and wrapping her hands around his hot, stiff dick—she was increasingly sure he couldn't be. Being around him was too tempting. Suddenly the fantasies she'd once deluded herself with were returning in full force. Isaac sweeping her off her feet. Spending one more night in bed with him. A turnaround on Isaac meant forcing herself to relive the pain he'd caused her. There was no way she was going to let him break her again.

“Tell me about it,” Belle coaxed.

“It's Isaac Blue!” His name burst from her mouth before she'd really decided whether or not she should share. But now that the cat was out of the bag, she couldn't stop the details from pouring out of her. The arrests. Her father's call. The tart in his hotel room. By the time she'd got to naked Isaac Blue grabbing her wrist and kissing her neck, Belle was watching her dreamily, her elbow propped up on the table and her chin resting on her hand.

“Belle!” Sofia tried to snap her fingers, but they weren't working quite right.

Belle blinked a few times as if she was waking from a dream. “I'm sorry. I just... Isaac Blue! Thanks to that partial nude scene in
Death Race
I have a pretty good visual of this afternoon. Care to fill me in on the full-frontal details?”

Pressing her lips together, Sofia shook her head.

“He's one of the sexiest men alive!
People Magazine
told me so.” Belle held her hands up defensively. “And if you were really my friend, you'd spill.”

“He's packing heat offscreen, too,” Sofia admitted. She couldn't help it. Something about Isaac made her want to giggle and gush to a girlfriend. No one had ever had that effect on her since him.

“I knew it!” Belle fanned herself.

“Now can we concentrate on what the hell I'm supposed to do?” Sofia asked in exasperation.

“You still have it bad for him, huh?”

“I do not have it bad for him!” Sofia hesitated, steeling herself as she prepared to rip the mental Band-Aid off that covered the wound of their relationship. “You never saw us together. I was in love with him. Completely. Totally. And I honestly thought he loved me. I mean, I was eighteen and too stupid to know better.”

“I still want to know why you're so certain he wasn't in love with you,” Belle said gently, reaching across the table and taking Sofia's hand. She'd experienced her own dose of bad-boy induced heartbreak in college.

“Let's see, do you want the long list or the short list? Let's keep it to the point.” Sofia decided for her. “I got to find out from
Entertainment Today
that he was screwing around on me with his
Days of Rain
costar, Nina Justin. He went on location with her and never called me back!”

“I guessed that was why you left
Malibu Place
.”

Sofia nodded. She'd never admitted that was why she'd left the popular evening drama she'd starred on with Isaac to anyone outright before, but she'd also never thought she'd have to face Isaac Blue ever again. No one had batted an eye when Arnold Maxx's daughter had given up acting. She had money and looks, and Sofia wouldn't have been the first Hollywood princess to get bored with the business.

“I wasted a year of my life in clubs, trying to drink away how much that jackass hurt me, and now look at me! I'm right back where I began.” A sob escaped her lips and Belle's hand tightened on her own.

“That is not true, darling.” Belle spoke in a low, soothing voice. “You have a kick-ass job. Not only are you empowered, but you actually help people. Not to mention that you're the hottest piece of ass in this bar.”

“Except for you.” Sofia smiled, dabbing at her eyes with a napkin.

“Well, of course.”

“But I can't turn Isaac around,” Sofia whispered, finally giving a voice to her fear. She hadn't been enough to keep his attention before. Her love hadn't been enough to keep him from running wild. How was she supposed to fix him with all the baggage she was still carrying?

“Maybe Fia Maxx couldn't, but I hear Sofia King is one tough bitch.”

Belle was right. No one had expected her to take her mother's maiden name and go into business for herself. Sofia hadn't clawed her way out of LA's party scene to fall victim to one of its predators again—no matter how frustratingly sexy he was. She wasn't eighteen anymore and she wasn't fragile either.

Sofia's phone buzzed and she snatched it from the table, frowning when she saw the text message from her father.

Entertainment Today is reporting our boy is at the strip club. Surely that's not a sanctioned outing?

She pulled a hundred-pound note out of her wallet and threw it on the table. “My treat.”

“Something important?” Belle raised her eyebrows.

Sofia laughed as she stood to leave. “Something Blue.”

* * *

Isaac's eyes followed the dancer's hips as she circled around the pole, but his heart wasn't in it even as his mates cheered and catcalled around him. Tonight he was here to bankroll and nothing else. If he'd played his cards right the paparazzi shots of him entering the club were already online, which was just what he wanted.

Movement at the champagne room's private entrance caught his eye and within seconds one of the bouncers barreled toward him. The man stopped and crossed his hands over his belly. “Mr. Blue, there's a woman claiming to be your publicist at the door.”

“Blonde?” Isaac asked, and the man nodded. “Legs that should be wrapped around that pole?”

“Her legs could wrap around my pole,” his buddy Spencer crowed.

“I think you better focus on the scenery.” Isaac groaned and pushed Spencer back toward the stripper. There was a reason the guy was stuck behind the camera and not in front of it. The poor kid still looked twelve, and he acted like it, too.

The bouncer coughed politely. “Should I show her in, sir?”

“Please do.” Isaac's lips carved into a crooked smile. He'd managed to lure perfect Ms. King to Wellie's. Now he had to decide what to do with her.

Sofia sauntered into the room, ass swaying and eyes blazing. If her surroundings bothered her, she hid it well. She'd changed from the tight-fitting skirt she'd worn earlier into a slinky dress that wrapped around her perfect body. The neckline dipped low enough to display her décolletage. Isaac imagined slipping the dress over her shoulders and taking her perfect tits in his mouth. She was the only fully clothed woman in the room, but he only had eyes for her.

“Miss King,” he greeted her, enjoying the annoyance that flushed across her cheeks when he purposefully used the wrong title. He knew that blush, and he'd missed it.

“Mr. Blue.” She took a step forward and he couldn't resist reaching out to pull her into an embrace. The electricity that had hummed between them this afternoon built to a throbbing pulse as she pressed gently against his body.

It felt good to hold her. With her this close, her icy facade had thawed. She felt warm and delicate and soft. He fought the urge to lift her up and carry her out the door and back to his hotel room.

“Bourbon and me don't mix,” she said apologetically as she stepped away from him and her cool veneer returned.

“Drinking on the job?” he asked, his mouth twitching.

“All part of the process.” She shrugged, but he couldn't help notice that she turned away quickly. Sofia surveyed the room, her hands planted on her hips. “I thought I told you to stay out of trouble.”

“You told me not to get arrested,” he corrected her. There was no way he'd be able to stay out of trouble with her in the room with him.

Spinning back to him, and showing no signs of her momentary clumsiness, she shook her finger. “We need to talk.”

“I couldn't agree more, Ms. King, but this is hardly the place to do it. Too many distractions.” He let his eyes wander to a girl twisting upside down on a stripper pole.

Her eyes followed, narrowing when she saw what he was looking at. “Can I assume you bought the room?”

He nodded, not bothering to avert his gaze. She was playing into his hand nicely.

“Then get rid of them,” she purred.

“The girls?” he asked.

Sofia pressed her index finger under his chin and tilted it until their eyes met. “All of them.”

Would she ever stop surprising him? There was a good chance he was about to toss a bunch of half-naked girls and his friends out in return for a lecture. But the thought of having Sofia alone, in that dress with those heels, was impossible to resist.

He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted his order. “Clear out. My tab is open downstairs.”

A few of his buddies started to protest, but Spencer pushed them through the door as they bitched. He winked knowingly at Isaac as he passed.

“Friend of yours?” Sofia asked.

“Cameraman.”

She studied Spencer as he exited. “He doesn't look like much of a wingman.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” Isaac said with a shrug.

“Can't they?”

He thought he heard a hidden message behind her words. She really thought she had him fooled, and now he had her right where he wanted her. At least for the moment.

“Them, too,” Sofia said, pointing to the bouncers.

He raised an eyebrow but pulled his wallet out to bribe them all the same. This was really getting interesting. A minute later, the security team was standing guard on the other side of a locked door.

“You've got me alone,” Isaac pointed out, moving toward her with deliberately measured steps. “Nothing to distract me.”

“I'm not sure I can hold your attention.” This time he was certain there was a double meaning.

“You can try.”

“I don't try, Mr. Blue. I do, and I do it well.” Sofia's body undulated to the music pouring through the overhead speakers. Lights shimmered through the room, flashing across her shapely form as she twisted to the beat. Her hands folded over her taut belly, slipping down to her hips as she dipped her knees. Leaning forward, she treated him to a better view of her breasts.

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