“Will you get off your moral high horse.” It was all well and good for Dylan to protect his family name, but it had gotten completely out of hand the past few weeks.

“I have principles. So, sue me.”

“I give you the key to my car.” Zach ignored Dylan’s protests and began to lay out a simple, straightforward plan.

Dylan folded his arms belligerently across the front of his business suit. “So I can break in to it.”

“So you can unlock it. There is no breaking required.”

“And steal Kaitlin’s laptop.”

“Her briefcase is probably a better bet,” Zach suggested. “I suspect the laptop has a password. You photocopy the drawings. You put them back. You lock my trunk, and you’re done.”

“It’s stealing, Zach. Plain and simple.”

“It’s photocopying, Dylan. Even Kaitlin’s pit bull of a lawyer—”

“Lindsay.”

Zach rapped his knuckles on his desktop. “Even Lindsay would have to admit that intellectual property created by Kaitlin while she was on the Harper Transportation payroll belongs to the company. And the company belongs to me.”

“And to her.”

Zach, exasperated, threw up his hands. “Whose side are you on?”

“This doesn’t feel right.”

Zach glared at his lifelong friend, searching for the argument that would bring Dylan around to logic. He couldn’t help but wish a few of Caldwell’s more disreputable genes had trickled down through the generations.

It wasn’t as if they were knocking over a bank. It was nothing more than a frat prank. And he owned the damn designs. And while they might technically be half hers, they were also half his—morally, they were all his—and he had a corporation to protect. A corporation that employed thousands of people, all of them depending on Zach to make good decisions for Harper Transportation.

“I need to know she won’t ruin me,” he said to Dylan. “We know she’s out for revenge. And think about it, Dylan. If she was only worried we’d disagree on the aesthetics of the renovation, she’d flaunt the drawings in my face. She’s up to something.”

Dylan stared in silence for a long minute, and Zach could almost feel him working through the elements of the situation.

“Up to what?” he finally asked, and Zach knew he had him.

“Up to spending Harper Transportation into a hole we can’t climb out of then walking away and letting me sink.”

“You think she’d—”

“I don’t know what she’d do. That’s my point. I don’t know anything about this woman except that she blames me for everything that’s wrong in her life.”

Even as he said the words to Dylan, Zach was forced to silently acknowledge they weren’t strictly true. He knew more than that about Kaitlin. He knew she was beautiful, feisty and funny. He knew her kisses made him forget they were enemies. And he knew he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any woman in his life.

But that only meant he had to be tougher, even more determined to win. His feelings for her were a handicap, and he had to get past them.

“If it was you,” Zach told Dylan in complete honesty, “if someone was after you, I’d lie, cheat and steal to save you.”

Dylan hesitated. “That’s not fair.”

“How is it not fair?”

“You’d lie, cheat and steal at the drop of a hat.”

Zach couldn’t help but grin. It was a joke. Dylan had no basis for the accusation, and they both knew it.

Zach rounded the desk, knowing Dylan was on board. “That’s because I’m a pirate at heart.”

“And I am not.”

Zach clapped Dylan on the shoulder. “But I’m working on you.”

“That’s what scares me.”

“You may be a lot of things,” said Zach, “but scared isn’t one of them.”

Dylan shook his head in both disgust and capitulation. “Give me your damn car keys,” he grumbled. “And you owe me one.”

Zach extracted his spare key from his pocket and handed them to Dylan. “I’ll pay it back anytime you want. We’ll be at Boondocks in an hour. The valet parking is off Forty-fourth.”

Dylan glanced down at the silver key in his palm. “How did it come to this?”

“Lately, I ask myself that every morning.”

Dylan quirked a half smile. “Maybe if you’d get yourself back on the straight and narrow.”

“I am on the straight and narrow. Now get out there and steal for me.”

Dylan on side, Zach cleared his evening’s schedule and exited his office, making his way to the third floor. He had been making a point by putting Kaitlin in such a cramped space. It occurred to him that Dylan might be right. His moral compass could, in fact, be slipping.

He wasn’t particularly proud of this next plan. But he didn’t see any other way to get the information. And the situation was getting critical. Finding Kaitlin a new job wasn’t going as smoothly as he’d expected. There was the real possibility he’d have to implement her renovation plans, and he couldn’t afford to be blindsided by whatever extravagant and ungainly design she’d dreamed up.

He arrived at her office as she was locking the door at the end of the workday. She had both her laptop and a burgundy leather briefcase in her hands.

“You busy for dinner?” he asked without preamble.

She turned in surprise, her gaze darting up and down the hall, obviously worried about who might see them talking.

“Why?” Suspicion was clear in her tone.

“I’m attending a business event,” he offered levelly.

“On your yacht?”

He tried to interpret her expression. Were her words a rebuke or a joke? Was she nervous at the thought of being alone with him again? If so, could it be because she was still attracted to him?

They’d pledged to keep their hands off each other, but she could be wavering. He was definitely wavering. He’d been wavering as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

“At Boondocks,” he answered, shelving his physical desire for the moment. “I thought you might like to meet Ray Lambert.”

Her green eyes widened. Ah, now he had her attention.

Ray Lambert was president of the New York Architectural Association. Zach had done his homework on this. He’d planned an introduction so valuable, it would be impossible for Kaitlin to say no to dinner.

“You’re meeting Ray Lambert?” she asked cautiously.

“For dinner. Him and his wife.”

Now her tone was definitely wary as she tried to gauge his motives. “And you’re willing to take me along?”

Zach gave a careless shrug. “If you don’t want to—”

“No, I want to.” Her brow furrowed. “I’m just trying to figure out your angle.”

He couldn’t help but admire the way her brain was working through this. She was smart. But he was smarter. At least in this instance. With anybody but Ray Lambert, the plan would likely have failed.

“My angle is meeting your conditions for returning my company to me,” Zach told her. It was true. It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was part of the truth. “You want a career in this town, Ray’s a good guy to meet.”

She tilted her head to an unconsciously sexy angle. “No strings attached?”

His gaze automatically dropped to her luscious lips and his primal brain engaged. He didn’t intend to lower his voice to a sexy timbre, nor did he plan to ease his body forward, but it all happened anyway. “What kind of strings did you have in mind?”

“You promised,” she reminded him, looking trapped and worried.

“So did you.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“I’m not doing anything, either,” he lied. He was thinking plenty, and his body was telegraphing his desire. “Your imagination’s filling in the blanks.”

“You’re looking at me,” she accused.

“You’re looking back,” he countered.

“Zach.”

“Katie.” It was a stupid move, and not at all in keeping with his grand plan for tonight, but he reached forward and brushed his knuckles up against hers. It was a subtle touch, but it had the impact of a lightning bolt.

It obviously hit her, too. And he couldn’t stop the surge of male satisfaction that overtook his body.

Her cheeks flushed, her irises deepened to emeralds. Her voice went sultry. “This isn’t a date.”

“Don’t trust yourself?” he dared.

“I don’t trust you.”

“Smart move,” he conceded, admiring her intelligence all over again as he pulled back from his brinkmanship.

He knew Harper Transportation had to be his primary concern. And he needed to get his hands on her drawings by fair means or foul. His company, his employees, his family legacy, all depended on it.

“Are you trying to make me say no?” she asked him.

“I honestly don’t know what I’m trying to do.” The confession was out of him before he could censor it.

Complicated didn’t begin to describe his feelings for Kaitlin. He desperately wanted to kiss her. He craved the feel of her body against his. Given half a chance, he knew he’d tear off her clothes and make love to her until neither of them could move.

And then the power balance would be completely in her favor, and Harper Transportation wouldn’t stand a chance.

He forced himself to back off farther, putting a buffer of space between them.

“Ray Lambert?” she confirmed, apparently willing to put up with Zach for the introduction.

He gave her a nod. Despite the detour into their inconvenient attraction to one another, his plan had worked. As he’d known it would. The intellectual evaluation of another person’s emotions was an astonishingly effective tool for manipulation. And, apparently, it was a gift he had.

Her expression relaxed ever so slightly, causing a stab of guilt in his gut.

“You know, you’re either nicer than I thought,” she told him, “or more devious than I can understand.”

“I’m much nicer than you think,” Zach lied.

“Can you pick me up at home?”

He knew if he let her go home, she’d ditch the briefcase. That wasn’t part of the plan. So, he made a show of glancing at his watch. “No time for that. We’ll have to leave from here.”

Her hesitation showed in the purse of her lips.

“I can pick you up at the bus stop again,” he offered, knowing that would eliminate one of her hesitations.

It was her turn to glance at her watch. “Five minutes?”

He agreed. Then he watched until she got on the elevator. He wasn’t going to risk her stowing the briefcase back in her office either.

At the opulent Boondocks restaurant, Kaitlin and Zach settled into a curved booth with Ray Lambert and his wife, Susan. The restaurant was on two levels, the upper overlooking the atrium that served as both an entrance and a lounge. Palm trees and exotic plants blooming from both floor and wall pots added to the fresh ambiance that included high ceilings, huge windows overlooking the park and natural wood and rattan screens to provide privacy between the tables.

Kaitlin had used the walk to the bus stop to call Lindsay and regain her equilibrium. Thank goodness some semblance of sanity had kept her from kissing Zach right there in the Harper building hallway.

She’d been inches, mere seconds, from throwing herself in his arms all over again and falling completely under his sensual spell. She was a fool, an undisciplined fool.

In desperation, she’d confessed to Lindsay and begged for a pep talk, needing to put some emotional armor around herself before the dinner started. As usual, Lindsay had shocked her back to reality, then used humor to put her on an even keel.

“Have we by any chance met in the past?” Ray asked Kaitlin as the two shook hands over a table set with silver, crystal and crisp white linen. Zach had slid partway around the booth seat and settled next to Susan, while Ray was directly across from Kaitlin.

“Once,” she answered Ray. “Three years ago, at the NYAA conference. I was one of probably six hundred people who came through the receiving line.”

He smiled at her. “That must have been it. I’m pretty good with faces.”

Lindsay just hoped he wasn’t remembering her ignominious firing from Hutton Quinn. Though, if he was, he didn’t give anything away.

“Anyone else interested in the ‘97 Esme Cabernet?” Susan pointed to the wine list that was open in front of her.

Kaitlin was grateful for the change in topic.

“One of her favorites,” Ray explained with a benevolent smile toward his wife. “You won’t be disappointed.”

Zach glanced to Kaitlin, obviously looking for her reaction.

She nodded agreeably, proud of the way her hormones were staying under control. This was a business dinner, nothing more. And it was going to stay that way. “I’d love to try it,” she told Susan.

Susan smiled and closed the wine list.

A waiter immediately appeared beside their table.

While Ray ordered the wine, Kaitlin’s attention caught on a couple crossing the foyer below. They were heading for the curved staircase, and even from this distance she could recognize Lindsay and Dylan.

She straightened to get a better view as they started up the stairs. What could they possibly be doing here?

Kaitlin couldn’t miss Lindsay’s red face. Her friend was furious.

“What the—” Though Kaitlin clamped her jaw on the unladylike exclamation, Zach swiveled to stare at her confusion. Then he followed the direction of her gaze.

Lindsay and Dylan had made it to the top of the stairs and bore down on the table. As they did, Zach sat bolt upright, obviously observing the fury on Lindsay’s face.

The waiter left with the wine order just as Lindsay and Dylan arrived. They presented themselves, and Lindsay’s quick gaze noted Ray and Susan. She schooled her features.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt.” She smiled at Kaitlin, and her glance went meaningfully to the briefcase she held in her hand, moving it into clear view.

Burgundy.

It was Kaitlin’s.

What was she doing with Kaitlin’s briefcase?

“We just wanted to say hi,” Lindsay continued, her voice full of forced cheer. “I met up with Dylan in the garage.”

Kaitlin felt Zach stiffen beside her, while Dylan blushed.

Dylan? The garage? Her briefcase?

She felt her jaw drop open.

“We’re going to get a table now,” Lindsay announced smoothly, giving Kaitlin a soft squeeze on the shoulder. “Enjoy your dinner. But maybe we could talk later?” She hooked her arm into Dylan’s and pasted him to her side.

Kaitlin couldn’t help herself. She turned to gape at Zach in astonishment. Her briefcase had been in his trunk. How did Lindsay end up with it? And what was Dylan’s connection?

Zach’s face remained impassive as he focused beyond Kaitlin to Dylan. “We’ll talk to you later.”

Lindsay made a half turn to address Ray and Susan. “I’m really sorry to have interrupted. I hope you all enjoy your dinner.” Then she gave Kaitlin one ominous glance before propelling Dylan farther into the restaurant.

Kaitlin’s immediate reaction was to follow them. But before she could rise from her seat, Zach’s hand clamped down on her thigh, holding her firmly in place.

The action was shocking, the sensation electric.

“That was Dylan Gilby,” he smoothly informed Ray and Susan. “Astral Air.”

Kaitlin reached down to surreptitiously remove Zach’s hand, but her strength was no match for his.

“I’ve met his father,” Ray acknowledged. If he’d noticed anything strange in the conversation, he was too professional to let on.

“Dylan and I grew up together,” Zach elaborated, filling the silence even while Kaitlin tried to work her leg free.

“Ah, here’s the wine,” Susan announced, looking pleased by the arrival of the steward.

As soon as Ray’s and Susan’s attention was distracted by the uncorking process, Zach leaned over. “Stay still,” he hissed into Kaitlin’s ear.

“What did you do?” Kaitlin demanded in an undertone.

“We’ll talk later,” he huffed.

“Bet on it.”

“Stop struggling.”

“Let go of me.”

“Not until I’m sure you’ll stay put.”

“We first discovered this one in Marseille,” said Ray, lifting his glass with a flourish for the ceremonial tasting.

Kaitlin quickly redirected her attention. She tried not to squirm against Zach’s grip. His hand was dry and warm, slightly callused, definitely not painful, but absolutely impossible to ignore.

She wasn’t wearing stockings today, and his hand was on her bare leg. His pinky finger had come to rest slightly north of her midthigh hemline. And his fingertips had curled into her sensitive inner thigh.

Now that her anger had settled to a hum, a new sensation pulsed its way through her system.

The touch of Zach’s hand was turning her on.

Ray nodded his approval on the wine, and the steward filled the other three glasses before topping up Ray’s.

When the wine was ready, Ray raised his glass for a toast. “A pleasure to meet you, Kaitlin. And congratulations on your contract with Harper Transportation. It’s an important building.”

“We’re lucky to have her,” Zach responded courteously.

Kaitlin thanked them both, clinked her glass against each of theirs, avoiding eye contact with Zach, then took a healthy swallow. The wine was incredibly delicious. More importantly, it contained a measure of alcohol to take the edge off her frustration.

Another waiter arrived with four large, leather-bound dinner menus, which he handed around to the table’s occupants.

Zach accepted his with one hand, still not relinquishing his hold on Kaitlin.

She opened hers, trying to concentrate on the dishes and descriptions in front of her, but the neat script blurred on the page.

Had his hand moved?

Was it higher now?

Ever so slightly, and ever so slowly, but completely unmistakably his fingertips were brushing their way up the inside of her thigh.

Her muscles contracted in reaction. She could feel her skin heat, and her breathing deepened.

“The pumpkin soup to start?” he asked her, voice low and completely casual in her ear.

She opened her mouth, but she couldn’t seem to form any words. She could barely sit still. Her toes curled and her fingers gripped tightly around the leather menu.

“Maybe the arugula salad?” he continued.

How could he do that? How could he sit there and behave as if everything was normal, when she was practically jumping out of her skin?

“I’m going with the yellowfin tuna,” Susan chirped.

Ray and Susan both looked to Kaitlin with questions on their faces.

Zach’s hand slipped higher, and she very nearly moaned.

“Kaitlin?” he prompted.

She knew she should slap his hand away. She should call him right here, right now, on his unacceptable behavior. It would serve him right.

He’d be embarrassed in front of Ray Lambert. But then so would she. She’d be mortified if Ray—if anyone—knew what Zach was doing under the tablecloth.

“Arugula,” she blurted out.

“The risotto is delicious,” Susan offered helpfully.

Kaitlin tried to smile her thanks. But she wasn’t sure if it quite came off, since she was gritting her teeth against Zach’s sensual onslaught.

She balanced the heavy menu against the tabletop, holding it with one hand. Then she dropped the other to her lap, covering Zach’s. “Stop,” she hissed under her breath. “Please.” The word came out on a desperate squeak.

His hand stilled. But then he turned it, meeting hers, and his thumb began a slow caress of her palm.

A new wave of desire flowed through her.

She could pull away anytime she wanted. But she didn’t want to pull away. Lord help her, she wanted to savor the sensation, feel the raw energy pulse through her body. And when his hand turned back, and the caress resumed on her thigh, she didn’t complain.

“The salmon,” he said decisively, closing his menu and setting it aside.

Susan pulled her menu against her chest, speaking over the top. “The dill sauce is to die for.”

Ray gave his wife’s shoulder a quick, friendly caress. “It’s beyond me why she doesn’t weigh three hundred pounds.”

“I have a great metabolism,” Susan said, adding a self-deprecating laugh. “I don’t do nearly enough exercise to deserve all those desserts.”

Zach turned to Kaitlin, his fingertips still working magic as he spoke. “And what do you want?”

The double entendre boomed around them both.

Her gaze was drawn to the depths of his eyes, knowing there was no disguising her naked longing. “Risotto,” she managed to say.

“And for dessert?” He pressed more firmly against her inner thigh, his palm sliding boldly against her sensitized skin.

“I’ll decide later.”

He gave a slow, satisfied smile, and a gleam of attraction turned his gray eyes to silver.

Just as she was tumbling completely and hopelessly under his spell, Lindsay’s words came back to haunt her. Do you think there’s a slim possibility it was a distraction?

Oh, no.

He was doing it, again.

And she was falling for it, willingly, and all over again.

Humiliation was like ice water to her hormones. She steeled her wayward desire, letting anger replace her lust.

“No dessert,” she told him sternly, dropping her hand to her thigh and firmly removing his.

“Crème brûlée,” said Susan. “Definitely crème brûlée for me.”

Zach’s gaze slid to Kaitlin for a split second. But then he obviously decided to give up. Distraction was not going to work for him this time. His behavior was reprehensible, and her lapse in judgment was thoroughly unprofessional. What would it take for her to learn?

Thankfully, Susan launched into a story about a recent business trip to Greece.

Kaitlin forced herself to listen, responding with what she hoped were friendly and intelligent answers to Ray’s and Susan’s questions, then asking about their trip to London and their new ski chalet in Banff, as appetizers, dinner and then dessert were served.

Zach didn’t touch her again, luckily for him. Because by the time the crème brûlée was finished, the check arrived, and Ray and Susan said their good-nights, Kaitlin’s mood had migrated to full-on rage.

As the waiter cleared the last of the dishes, smoothing the white linen tablecloth, Lindsay and Dylan appeared.

Lindsay plunked herself next to Zach, the briefcase between them, while Dylan sat much more reluctantly across from Kaitlin.

“They stole your briefcase,” Lindsay said without preamble. “They stole your briefcase.”

Kaitlin had presumed that was what happened. She immediately turned an accusing glare on Zach. There was no need to voice the question, so she waited silently for his explanation.

“It was in my trunk,” he pointed out in his own defense. “My trunk.”

Lindsay opened her mouth, but Dylan jumped in before she could speak. His blue eyes glittered at Zach. “Seems there are some finer points of the law you may not have taken into account here.”

“They’re my drawings,” Zach stated.

The waiter reappeared, and conversation ceased. “May I offer anyone some coffee?”

“A shot of cognac in mine,” said Lindsay.

“All around,” Zach added gruffly, making a circle motion with his index finger.

Kaitlin wasn’t inclined to argue.

“They are my drawings.” Her words to Zach were stern as the man walked away.

“I paid you to make them,” he countered.

“You both paid her to make them,” Lindsay pointed out in an imperious tone.

“I wouldn’t argue with her,” Dylan muttered darkly.

Lindsay shot him a warning look.

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