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  It hadn’t taken long to learn that her nickname was synonymous with aloof and cold. Which was a real shame because her real name suggested otherwise.

  Tristan closed his laptop. “If Synthia doesn’t have a problem working with me, then I don’t have one either.” Except he’d be pretty much attached at the hip with her through the whole trip. Normally being partnered with a woman all weekend wasn’t a hardship. He loved women. All women. But this one made him insane. Made him feel certifiable. He’d never met anyone more uptight. From day one, all he’d ever wanted to do was muss her up. Just once, he’d love to see her hair out of that bun and wild. The instant heat pooling in his gut made his skin flush. Easy does it. Thinking about how to get her hair wild and messy wouldn’t do him any good. She already starred in too many of his dirty fantasies than were good for him. Not to mention that she’d flay him if she ever found out.

  Their boss beamed at the both of them. “I’m glad the two of you are on board. Now, Synthia is more senior, so if any questions arise, just defer to her opinion. But I think you both can be our secret weapon on this contract, looking at both sides of the equation.”

  Once they were dismissed, Tristan followed Synthia out of the office. The moment they were out of earshot, he whispered, “I won’t hold it against you that you just tried to toss me from the project.”

  She halted and turned her glacial, indifferent smile on him. “I’m sorry you see it that way. I was merely trying to save you from having to do any heavy lifting. I know how averse you are to that.”

  A spike of adrenaline hit him. There was no one he’d rather argue with. “Now, don’t be mad just because I get to have some actual fun and you’re stuck looking at the numbers.”

  She veered toward her office and despite his better judgment he followed. “Well, my idea of fun isn’t to troll the Vegas strip clubs.”

  He let his mouth drop open and clutched his chest when they reached her office. “I’m wounded, Synthia. You think that I would stoop so low? I’m a classy guy. And I want only the best. I’d hire a private service to bring the girls to me.” He winked at her.

  “You’re disgusting.”

  He grinned. He liked naked women as much as the next guy, but the whole strip club thing didn’t do anything for him. If he was going to see a naked woman, there had better be touching involved. He mostly just liked to ruffle Syn’s too neat, too perfect feathers. “You know, one of these days, you’re going to have to tell me why you don’t like me.”

  She directed her dark gaze on him. “It’s not that I don’t like you. It’s that I’m indifferent. I do my best not to think about you ever.”

  God, she was impossible. “If you say so, sweetheart. You just keep telling yourself that. In the meantime, this trip to Vegas will be really fun.”

  She shrugged as if she couldn’t give a damn. “As long as you stay out of my way, we’ll be fine.”

  His hackles rose. “Honey, I have no intention of seeing you the whole time we’re there.” Liar. What he wanted to do was see sexy, mussed-up Synthia in Vegas.

  She crossed delicate arms over her chest and drew in a deep breath. He almost high-fived himself for managing not to sneak a peek at her gentle curves. He didn’t need that kind of torture through the rest of the day. “That will work fine with me.” Her tight, brittle scowl morphed into that brilliant smile of hers and Tristan’s brain shorted. Then she added. “Now, don’t let the door hit you on the way out, Junior Warbucks.”

  She turned and walked to her desk as if she didn’t give a damn whether or not he still stood there. Grinding his teeth, he left her office and didn’t bother giving her the satisfaction of slamming it.

  Back in his office, Drake Murphy, the head of Stellar Reach’s legal team, was waiting for him with his feet kicked up on the coffee table.

  “Make yourself at home why don’t you, Drake?” Tristan mumbled.

  His friend grinned. “Thank you, don’t mind if I do.” He inclined his head toward Synthia’s office. “You and your girlfriend at it again? I could hear you from here.”

  “She’s not my girlfriend.” Tristan deposited his laptop onto his desk and sank into his chair.

  Drake tossed a Nerf basketball at his head and laughed. “Oh, but you want her to be. It’s like you’re pulling her pigtails, man.”

  Tristan cracked his neck and tossed the basketball smoothly into the hoop mounted on the wall. “I don’t want her.” He impressed himself with how smoothly the lie flowed off his tongue. He was ready to claw his skin off, he wanted her so bad.

  Drake laughed. “I swear, the two of you bicker like crazy people. I honestly wish you two would just hit the sack and get it over with already. It’s hard to watch.”

  “Never going to happen.” Tristan narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me, aren’t you legal? Should we even be discussing this?”

  “I left my legal hat at the door. Do I need it?” Drake studied his friend.

  “Not that I know, but she might glare me to death. No matter what I do, she’s not warming up to me.”

  Drake nodded. “Well, that’s because you’re an idiot.”

  Tristan laughed. “Only sometimes.”

  “You ever planning on doing anything about that?”

  “Like what?” Kissing her until she melts in my arms?

  Drake tossed another Nerf ball at his head and Tristan caught it one-handed. “You know, asking her out like a grown-up. Since that’s what you really want to do. This whole acting-like-a-jerk thing isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

  “It’s not like I’m doing it on purpose. She’s immune to my charm. The woman hates me.”

  Drake shrugged. “Well, maybe if you stopped poaching her clients she might like you better. I don’t know about you rich boys, but for us common men, when we hit puberty we got the lesson that girls like it when you’re nice to them.”

  Tristan shook his head. “I’ll try to remember that when I’m stuck with the she-devil in Vegas.”

  Drake blinked at him. Then blinked again. “You’re going to Vegas with her?”

  “Yeah, to do recon for Bliss.”

  A low roar of laughter spilled out of Drake. “Oh, man, this is going to be good.”

  “Yeah, good for you. One of us is going to need a lawyer after we declare war on each other. It’s going to get crazy.”

  “Maybe you try being nice to her.” Drake winked as he stood. “Might even throw her off her game. She’s been on the Bliss account before. She’s going to fight you hard for this one. You’ll need every advantage you can get.”

  The one thing Drake didn’t know about Synthia was that she always fought to win, Bliss account or not. “Yeah, I’ll give it some thought.”

  Tristan’s desk phone rang as his friend meandered out of his office. He answered with a brusque “Dawson.”

  There was a brief pause and the hairs on the back of his neck stood. “Tristan, it’s your father.”

  His stomach pitched. As if he couldn’t recognize the old man’s voice. “Dad...everything okay?” How long had it been since they’d seen each other? Six months maybe? Since his sister Tawny’s last birthday. And even then, they’d avoided each other and said as little as possible.

  The old man cleared his throat. “Yes, everything is fine. I’m calling about Taylor’s congratulatory dinner for his promotion. It’s this weekend.”

  Hell. Yet another reason to be a disappointment. “Sorry, Dad. Can’t make it. I’ll be out of town.”

  “This is important, Tristan. Your brother just became a vice president. You can put off whatever vacation plans you have.”

  Tristan gritted his teeth. “It’s for work, Dad.”

  His father harrumphed. “Work? That place you go every day hardly qualifies as work.”

  And there it was. It had taken
less than a minute for his father to tell him that he wasn’t living up to his potential. “If this conversation is veering toward you telling me to come back and help run Dawson Incorporated, then we don’t have anything else to talk about. I have no desire to be an investment banker.”

  “Why do you insist on being so stubborn? This is your legacy.”

  “I would rather have something I earned. You taught me that all that money comes with strings I’d rather not have attached, so if this is you asking nicely, then I’m going to have to politely decline.”

  “You are so irritatingly stubborn and childish. All I asked was that you heed my advice, and you walked away from this family.”

  The knot of anger increased even as it grew tighter. “Is that how you remember it? I remember it differently.” When he’d told his father he didn’t want to work at the investment firm, the old man threatened to cut him off.

  “Don’t act like a child. I can pull you home whenever I want. Do you really think that you’re insulated in your little job? If I want, I can come in and buy that place. You will have to learn eventually that I am in control. I can fight to get control of your trust fund.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Dad. We’re done.” Tristan hung up with a soft click of the phone. It didn’t matter how much his father got to him. The old man wasn’t his puppet master. He’d fought hard for his independence and he was going to keep it. And that meant landing this account. Even his father couldn’t ignore the prestige of the position. All he had to do was beat Syn for it.

  * * *

  “That man is a pain where the sun don’t shine. He’s insufferable and a jackass.”

  “Don’t forget smoking hot, because let’s face it. He is.”

  Synthia scowled at her best friend, Olivia Banks. She and Liv had been friends since they started at the company as interns over five years ago. Synthia could always count on her friend to give it to her straight. “Try to keep up, Liv. We hate him, remember?”

  Liv put up her hands and laughed. “Oh, honey, I remember. He is our sworn enemy and we have to make him suffer. But that doesn’t preclude us noticing the assets on hand.” She waggled her eyebrows.

  Syn rolled her eyes and plopped into her chair. “I swear, you’re almost as bad as he is.”

  Liv clapped a hand to her chest. “Now, I take offense at that. I might ogle and appreciate, but I don’t use my...” She paused and reconsidered. “Okay, so maybe I’ve used my gifts for evil before, but Tristan Dawson takes it to a whole new level.”

  Synthia bit back a chuckle. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

  Liv grinned. “Funny, I’ve been told that before.”

  Synthia let the tension roll out of her shoulders. “I swear, you should have seen his smug face. With his magnetic smile and his focused attention, Bella didn’t stand a chance. She was all fluttering eyelashes and breathy voice by the time Tristan freaking Dawson was done with her. She’d been Dawsoned.” Liv had coined the phrase when he started at the company two years ago to describe how most of the women in the company reacted when Tristan graced them with a smile. Except Syn.

  “So, what are you going to do about it?”

  Synthia raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think I’ve got a plan?”

  “Because. This is you we’re talking about, so rolling over and playing dead is not in your nature. You’re too stubborn and good.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Liv, but I’m a little worried about this one.”

  Liv frowned. “Why?”

  “Because of Tristan. You know they’re sending us to Vegas. I just know he’s going to use this opportunity to his advantage. I’m getting the impression from Bella Bliss that she’s more interested in what Tristan can provide her in the bedroom than what I can provide her for the hotel.”

  “Then why don’t you fight fire with fire?”

  Syn frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “Hear me out. Tristan is already using his charm to his advantage. Your best traits are your brain and your tenacity, which you have in spades, but you have an ace in the hole.”

  Syn laughed. “Oh, really? What’s this ace? Do I have a magic wand that will make Bella pay attention to the facts and figures when I present?”

  “You can call it a magic wand, I’ll just call it your banging bod.”

  Syn raised her eyebrows. “Um, I don’t think Bella’s into chicks, Liv.”

  Liv shook her wild mane of red hair. “No. It can’t have escaped your notice how Tristan looks at you. There’s interest there.”

  “Um, in case you haven’t noticed, we can barely stand to be in the same room with each other. It’ll be a wonder if we both make it back from Vegas in one piece.” She pointed a finger at her friend. “In case there’s any doubt, I’m the one who’ll be burying a body.”

  Liv giggled. “Of that I have no doubt, but take me seriously. All you have to do is play nice with Tristan and he’ll be too busy focusing on you to focus on his work. You’ll have the whole thing in the bag before he knows what hit him.”

  Flirt with Tristan? Yeah, no. Didn’t matter that the thought alone made the butterflies flutter low in her belly. “Not going to happen. I’m getting this account all on my own.”

  Liv groaned. “Honey, I’m not suggesting you sleep with the guy, but if you do, please take detailed notes and let me live vicariously. I’m just saying throw him off his game a little. Right now he’s in there with his boy, planning your takedown. Do you or do you not remember the Boyd account?”

  Syn ground her teeth. Boyd Seduction had been her account for over a year. But one chance encounter between Tristan and the lingerie designer’s CEO and Syn was off the account and out that bonus check. Her work was better than his, but there was a certain kind of client that liked his demeanor. That kind wanted to have a personal connection. And while she was hardworking and well liked, everyone loved Tristan. Except you.

  “I can’t do it, Liv. Besides, don’t you think Tristan will see that coming from a mile away? He’s not dumb.”

  Liv sighed. “Honey, the amount of time that man spends looking at you, he won’t be thinking at all.” She winked. “Besides, I’m just asking you to be nice, throw him off. Meanwhile, you’re getting together the best presentation Bella Bliss has ever seen.”

  Okay, this was getting out of hand. “First of all, Tristan doesn’t look at me.” But just the idea of it made her body flush with heat. Tristan Dawson was the stuff of really hot, need-battery-operated-boyfriend inducing dreams. With his broad shoulders and teasing grin, it was no wonder.

  Liv raised a delicately arched eyebrow. “Babe, if you believe that, then I have a bridge to sell you. What you have to ask yourself is, how badly do you want this account?”

  She didn’t have to ask herself that question. She already knew she’d do whatever it took to get the Bliss account. Even if it meant cozying up to her nemesis.

  Chapter 3

  Three whole minutes into his trip with Synthia and Tristan was ready to call uncle.

  By the time they boarded the plane, his nerves were raw. It’s only three days. Yeah, maybe, but he was pretty sure someone would catch a legal case before the weekend was up.

  The car service had picked him up first, and when they’d gone to her house to get her, she already looked irritated to see him. Granted, he’d poked the dragon when he replied to her “Good morning” with “I’ve always wanted to see the natural habitat of an ice queen.” She’d rewarded him with a scowl. And so it had gone the rest of the way to the airport. Him teasing her, and her resolutely ignoring him while managing to shoot him daggers with her eyes.

  He watched her struggle to stash her carry-on bag in the overhead bin for a moment before offering to help. Standing and leaning over her petite frame, he stabilized the bag.r />
  “No, it’s okay, I really don’t need your help. I have it—”

  The rollaway slipped again as a bottle of water escaped the side holder and rolled down the cabin. But then the bag gave way, bringing her body into direct contact with his, and they both froze.

  He knew enough to hold his breath. The strawberry-scented hair product she used was enough to give him a hard-on for a week. He didn’t need to inhale that while he was in close proximity to her.

  Syn wobbled in her heels and he placed his hands on her hips to steady her. Big mistake. Touching? What kind of idiot was he? But even though his brain gave the command, he didn’t let go. When he managed to force the words out, they tore from his chest. “You okay?”

  She nodded but didn’t move for several breaths. Every sharp inhale brought her butt into tighter contact with his throbbing erection. Torture.

  She turned in his arms, glancing at him from half-lowered lids. “Yeah, fine. Thanks.”

  Something was wrong with this picture. Her pupils were dilated and her voice was breathy. Her tongue peaked out to moisten her lips and he bit back a groan, promptly letting go of her waist. She wanted him too.

  * * *

  Syn could ignore him. Hell, she would ignore him. It couldn’t be that hard. Never mind that she’d been locked in a flying tin can with him for the better part of an hour from Los Angeles to Vegas and his subtle musky cologne had started to weaken her defenses.

  The blinding lights of the Strip dragged her focus from him as the limousine turned toward the hotel. “Wow.”

  “You’re screwing with me.”

  When she turned to face him again, Tristan was staring at her. “What?”

  “You look like you’ve never seen the Strip before.”

  She shrugged. “That’s because I haven’t.”

  “How is it that a woman named Syn has never been to Vegas? Surely you’ve had some debauched girls’ weekend or something.”

 

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