Captivate Me

Excitement and something much more dangerous flashed beneath her skin. A craving that went deeper than mere physical satisfaction. A need long buried. A hope long denied.

Sucking a hard breath through her teeth, Alyssa forced her arms to relax and drop away from their tight hold around her body. She raised her head and let it clunk against the wall. Staring up at the ceiling she’d painted a pale heather gray, she focused on breathing, slow and steady.

No harm done. She’d stopped before going too far. Before letting free that wild piece of herself she kept locked down tight. Always ignored.

A bra and boyshorts were no more revealing than most bathing suits. She hadn’t done anything wrong. So why was she struggling with a sickening mixture of guilt, exhilaration and dismay?

He had no idea who she was. It had been late, dark, with only a lamp on for light. He’d been wearing a mask and was ten feet away, lodged in the shadows. They could collide on the street and never know each other.

A moment of insanity. Mardi Gras madness. A release from the stress and pressure she’d been dealing with all day.

It was over. Or, at least, it would be once she dealt with the hum of residual sexual energy lodged squarely between her thighs.

And if, in the throes of passion when her defenses were weak, she imagined his heated gaze sweeping across her body, watching intently as she finished what he’d started, there was no way anyone else would ever know that—especially him.

2

THEY WERE DESPERATE. And that’s just how Beckett wanted them.

Unfortunately, so was he, although, even as he strode into their plush offices, he had no intention of letting V&D know that.

He needed their app. Would do anything to own it. It was the game changer. Something that would take his nightclubs from simply successful to infamous. Like Studio 54, he wanted Exposed to become a household name, the kind whispered with awe and envy.

He craved the notoriety, money and irrefutable proof that he was finally successful, his life stable. The familiar desperation tasted bitter in his mouth.

What a difference fourteen years could make. At eighteen he’d been kicked out of the massive mansion he’d called home, and the whiplash with which he’d lost everything had hurt. But not nearly as much as realizing his father didn’t give a damn about him.

Without a penny or any discernible skills, he’d floundered, imposing on friends, sleeping on couches, carrying what little his father had let him take in a garbage bag. But it had become clear that wasn’t a long-term solution.

He’d had no place to live. Had never held a job. It might not have sounded like a sob story to anyone else, but going a few days without anything to eat after having every meal provided on gold-rimmed plates had been a hell of a shock to the system.

The fake ID he’d used to get into clubs had been useful in convincing the owner of a seedy nightclub to give him a chance. He’d started out slinging drinks, but soon realized that wasn’t going to be enough.

Six months later he was managing the place, his natural charm and leadership skills taking over. Splitting the profits with a drunk who wasn’t coherent enough to realize what he was giving up hadn’t exactly been the stuff of lifelong dreams, but Beckett had socked away every penny until he’d had enough to open his own place.

It’d taken four years, but a year after he actually turned legal he opened the first Exposed deep in the New Orleans Warehouse District. Funky and eclectic, it had appealed to a wide range of people.

Two years later came the club in New York. Then L.A., Nashville, Chicago and Seattle. He now owned twelve locations. But that wasn’t enough.

Part of him wondered if there would ever be enough. If success and security could wipe out those first few years of desperation.

Especially when his father delighted in reminding him just how much of a disappointment and failure he’d once been. Or that the money he’d made since was on the back of something lurid and common.

As if the man hadn’t come from humble beginnings himself. His father was a self-made billionaire. And a ruthless asshole, like a lion eating his young to protect his power position within the pride.

Beckett didn’t care how he made his mark, though. It didn’t bother him that he did it by selling alcohol and providing a dark place where inhibitions dropped and people hooked up.

Sex and sensationalism sold. Which was exactly why he needed V&D’s new social media app. Having a dozen Exposed locations was great. But allowing anyone with a smartphone to feel as if they were at his clubs...that would open his revenue stream up to every city in the country. Hell, in the world. Billions of people dropping in to watch and interact.

However, V&D refused to even entertain his offers.

Which just pissed him off.

It had been a long time since someone had been stupid enough to disrespect him to his face, but that was what V&D was doing. Treating his blood, sweat and tears like the ten-year-old banished to the kiddie table at Christmas. Dismissing him as if he was insignificant. That, more than anything, was what had lodged beneath his skin, itching and burning.

Well, they’d surely realized that was far from the truth by now. He was more than significant. He had them by the balls.

They wouldn’t listen to reason, so he’d simply take what he wanted.

He was going to enjoy watching them squirm. And while that would certainly be entertaining, what he really hoped to gain from this meeting was an understanding of what he’d done to piss them off so much they’d excluded him from the negotiations in the first place.

He hated to be in the dark. That’s when you were open and vulnerable. Beckett did not like being exposed. And the irony wasn’t lost on him at all.

Now V&D were scrambling, and Beckett was going to enjoy sitting back and watching the show. This would be fun.

He grasped the handle of the conference room door and his heart rate kicked. He embraced the physical evidence of his anticipation, letting it free for just a moment. A smile flickered across his lips. Then, completely in control, he wiped his expression clean.

Striding forward with confidence, he raked his gaze across the conference table and the people already waiting. And he nearly stumbled.

Blood, adrenaline and a bone-deep craving flooded his body. Every muscle went solid, straining against his skin and the need to reach across the table, grasp the woman staring at him and kiss the hell out of her.

Although the daggers she currently had pointed at him said that probably wouldn’t go over well.

Beckett’s years of harsh control served him well. Shaking his head, he pulled out the chair opposite the gathered contingent and settled against the soft leather surface. Leaning back, he let the chair tip off center and take his weight, his body lax and comfortable.

Scraping the group with a practiced, sharp smile that was all teeth and challenge, he waited to see what their first move would be.

He’d been looking forward to this meeting all morning, but suddenly it had gone from entertaining to downright thrilling.

Because sitting across from him, elegant, cold and seriously pissed off, was the last person he’d ever expected to see.

The woman was far from the tech geek he’d anticipated. While he’d been doing research on both of the partners, the V in V&D had remained a mystery. In an age of social media, she hadn’t had a Facebook, Twitter or Google+ account. Which had struck him as weird, considering she was the brains behind a company poised to explode into the highly competitive tech market.

Hell, she was selling a social media app and didn’t have a single social media account. No photographs or videos of her drunken college days on YouTube. According to rumor, she valued her privacy, preferring her lab, computers and code to actual human interaction.

He’d half prepared himself for some shy, mousy thing with pale skin and eyes bloodshot from staring at flickering screens too long.

Instead, her pale-green gaze was definitely not foggy or distracted. It was intelligent, angry and trained solely on him.

A blouse the same shade as her eyes was buttoned up tight. A single strand of gleaming pearls nestled against the hollow of her throat. The long, lush hair was swept up into a tight twist, bangs feathering across her forehead.

She was clearly the prim and proper businesswoman ready to plunge into shark-infested waters...and win. And maybe, if fate hadn’t intervened, the ruse would have worked.

But he knew her secrets.

He’d seen her naked skin, that heartbreaking tattoo and her sexy lingerie just last night, framed in the lonely window of a French Quarter apartment.

* * *

ALYSSA WATCHED HIM stride into the room, powerful, commanding and utterly confident in his own skin. She’d braced for the impact, but it hadn’t done much good.

The moment he entered it felt as if all the oxygen had been sucked from the room. Her lungs deflated, leaving her gasping for breath.

It had been years since she’d seen the man, although their single encounter had left a lasting impression. Not just on her psyche, but on her life.

Although she’d bet next year’s profits he didn’t have the first clue who she was...or that he’d once had his tongue down her throat and his hand up her skirt.

Or that he’d humiliated her.

She’d been sixteen and upset from a fight with Bridgett and her father before a friend had picked her up for a party. Her stepmother had accused her of things she hadn’t done—drugs, drinking, seeing an older guy. Without a second thought, her father had believed every word his wife fed him.

That betrayal had hurt. She’d arrived at the party hell-bent on letting loose. If she was going to be painted with the brush then she should at least enjoy the experience. That first beer had tasted terrible, but by the fourth she’d no longer cared about anything.

She’d been thoroughly blitzed by the time Lindsey had pointed out a group of older boys who’d graduated from their exclusive private prep school several years before. Alyssa had noticed Beckett Kayne immediately. Who wouldn’t? He was gorgeous in a wickedly dangerous kind of way that appealed to the rebellious streak she was tired of denying.

Without the liquid courage she probably never would have walked up to him, grabbed his face and kissed the hell out of him. What she hadn’t been prepared for was her immediate, all-consuming response. Or how quickly he took control, backing her into a corner and letting his hands roam across her body.

They didn’t dance or talk, just skipped straight to trying to find an unoccupied room. But somewhere through the haze of alcohol, groping and sparkling heat, Alyssa remembered she needed to tell him she was a virgin. The moment the slurred words left her mouth everything changed.

Beckett vaulted away from her as if she’d suddenly developed the plague. On top of the other emotional upheaval of the night, that loss had felt like a kick in the gut.

It wasn’t until the next day that she truly understood the depth of Beckett’s duplicity. One of his friends let it slip that he’d had his eye on her all night...not because he was interested, but because he was desperate for money, she was young and her father was loaded.

Alyssa bit back a bitter chuckle. If only he’d known he was wasting his time, even the little he’d invested. Her father might have been rich as Croesus, but she sure as hell hadn’t been. Wasn’t. Maybe never would be. Although, money had never really mattered to her.

He’d left her there, humiliated, drunk and alone. She’d been forced to call her father to come pick her up. Ignoring the tear tracks on her cheeks, he and her stepmother had lit into her. Bridgett had ranted about what a bad influence she was on her half sister, Mercedes.

And there was nothing she could say.

From that night on, any hope she’d ever had of repairing her relationship with her father had crumbled to dust.

But that had been years ago, and until Kayne’s name had come across her desk, attached to an intent to bid notice for the Watch Me app, she’d thought she was long over the experience.

Oh, how wrong she’d been. Just his name had sent anger, humiliation and something much more sinful washing across her skin. There was no way in hell she’d do business with the man and she’d said as much to her partner, Mitch Dornigan.

They might be equal owners of V&D, but he hadn’t protested or questioned her snap decision. In the weeks since, her anger hadn’t dissipated. In fact, it had only increased, especially with the man’s latest stunt. She wanted to reach across the conference table and scratch the smug expression right off his face.

Unfortunately, that didn’t stop her from reacting to him. Just the sight of his powerful, suit-clad body had energy humming through her bones, pure electricity. Her pulse skittered, her mouth went dry and her palms started to sweat.

God, she hated that Beckett Kayne had this kind of primal effect on her. She was a strong, independent and intelligent woman. So why, the moment he walked into her sphere of existence, did her brain go haywire and her body revolt?

The simple answer was that the man was inherently sensual in a dark and dangerous sort of way. Even more so now than back then. Any living, breathing female would respond to him. The problem was, he knew exactly the effect he had and wasn’t afraid to use it. Beckett Kayne had a reputation for being ruthless, using whatever advantage he was given.

She had no intention of giving him any more by letting him know just how he affected her.

His thick brown hair made a woman want to grab and take hold. His moody blue eyes were consuming and observant. Rumor had it that he liked to watch, from a room high above the floor of his clubs.

An unwanted shiver snaked down her spine. Alyssa shook it off. Now was not the time. She had to get a grip. The man was here to destroy her business, something she’d spent the past two years building. She’d be damned if she was going to let him. She needed her mind clear and her faculties focused.

He wore a precisely tailored business suit. The material was expensive and skimmed across his body in a way that highlighted the lean muscles and tight build hidden beneath. It was a far cry from the tight jeans, frayed at the hem, and skintight black T-shirt he’d worn the first time they met.

Then he’d looked like an outlaw. An air of danger had clung to his skin along with the scent of alcohol, musk and something purely male. But that wasn’t what had drawn her. Beneath that there’d been a...vulnerability. A misery she recognized, understood and, for some strange reason, wanted to soothe.

Apparently that had been a lie, as well.

She wanted to think the business suit was an improvement, but somehow not even that facade could hide the edge of savagery, the tiger pacing lazily behind iron bars. You just knew if he ever broke free, that deceptive drowsiness would disappear and he’d rip your head off.

Beckett Kayne moved with that same kind of powerful, predatory grace.

Biting back a growl of frustration—at herself—Alyssa watched him drop into the chair across from her and cut a smile over her people. Two seats down, Deirdre sighed, the soft gush of air difficult to misinterpret. He hadn’t even opened his mouth and she was already mesmerized.

The one saving grace was that Kayne didn’t even bother to look in Deirdre’s direction. His eyes were trained unflinchingly on her.

A few seconds stretched into thirty, sixty and then more. Alyssa fought the heavy weight of silence. The pressure built, as if her insides were frantically moving while she sat perfectly still, waiting for him to make the first move. The sensation was unnerving...almost as much as Beckett Kayne’s scrutiny.

Something wicked flashed in his eyes, but before she could blink it was gone. Tingles raced across her skin. Slowly, the most amazing smile stretched his mouth. Wide, knowing and enigmatic, for some reason it made fear spin deep in the pit of her belly.

“Ms. Vaughn, wonderful to finally meet you.”

The warm, throaty rumble of his voice didn’t help to quell the churning. In fact, it made it worse. There was an edge to his words, some deeper meaning that made her muscles tense.

Could he actually remember?

No, surely not.

“I’m afraid I can’t say the same, Mr. Kayne.” Grinding her teeth together, Alyssa struggled to keep her emotions in check and tone civil. “I don’t appreciate the position you’ve put us in.”

She’d hoped to see a flash of regret. Or maybe just something that proved the man had a heart. To her surprise, instead of dimming, his smile morphed. His eyelids went heavy, dropping into a lazy, sensual squint. His mouth crooked, pulling higher on one side. Some might say it was a flaw, his one imperfection. But after all these years it was the thing she remembered most.

It made him human. Attainable. Real.

Once her gaze was snagged, Alyssa fought to force it away from his lips. And failed. It was the only reason she noticed the telltale twitch of humor.

“You gave me no choice, Ms. Vaughn, by ignoring my requests to do business together.”

Blowing out a sound of frustration, Alyssa couldn’t stop her voice from rising. “Perhaps you should invest in a dictionary, Mr. Kayne. It might fill in some of the gaps your lack of education has apparently left. Not giving you the answer you want isn’t the same as ignoring you.”

His lips flattened into a compressed line. Disappointment clawed at her. That she did ignore. Or tried.

“We weren’t interested in doing business with you.”

“Yes, you made that abundantly clear, although I have no idea why. The problem is you made that decision while simultaneously leaving yourselves vulnerable. I’ve never been the kind of man to walk away from an open invitation.”

Probably sensing just how close she was to losing it, Mitch stepped in before she said something that would derail any possibility of finding a reasonable solution to the situation.

“Taking out that loan was hardly an invitation.”

Kayne shrugged his shoulders, the motion smooth and negligent. “That’s the problem with doing business with friends. Taking out a private loan with a personal acquaintance instead of a bank is always risky. Less legal oversight governing the contract.”

Alyssa’s jaw ached from the pressure to keep her mouth from overriding her brain. She’d had plenty of practice swallowing her words, but for some reason the ones she swallowed now were more bitter than any others.

They’d tried to get a conventional loan and none of the banks would back them. Why would they, when the business was already in the red? The bank’s algorithms and number crunchers couldn’t take their upcoming success into account. They were weeks away from a huge influx of capital when their first app sold. And they had another that would be ready within the next two months.

Both she and Mitch had already been tapped out, savings gone and mortgaged to the gills. They’d only needed a few months’ operating capital to make it through, though, and everything would be fine. They’d been so close....

When Mitch had suggested going to a family friend for the money, someone he trusted and had known for most of his life, it had seemed an obvious solution. Sure, it carried more risk, but they’d felt fairly safe and confident in taking that chance.

Hindsight was definitely twenty-twenty.

Apparently, the connection Mitch had counted on had been outweighed by blind greed. According to their sources, Beckett had purchased their loan for almost a fourth more than the face value of the contract.

They were supposed to have six months to pay off the loan. More than enough time to bridge the gap. However, Kayne had decided to activate an escape clause, which allowed him to call the loan due at any point during the term. And he was pulling the trigger.

They had less than two weeks to come up with a huge chunk of change or Beckett Kayne would legally own V&D, including all their intellectual property—specifically, the app he so desperately wanted. She had no intention of letting him have Watch Me.

Not only would it gall her to lose the technology to the man, but they desperately needed the funds from selling the app to keep V&D moving forward.

A few days ago, Alyssa would have said there was no way she could hate Beckett Kayne any more than she already did. She’d have been wrong about that, too. Frustration and desperation warred inside her.

Her hands clenched into tight fists beneath the table as she tried to reign in her emotional turmoil before it bubbled up and spilled out all over the place like a destructive, scorching flow of lava.

“You can’t tell me that in all your years as a businessman, you never took a calculated risk?”

His churning gaze zeroed back on her. “Of course. The difference is, I made damn sure the reward was worth it.”

Realizing this line of discussion was getting them nowhere, Alyssa cut to the chase. “What do you want, Kayne?”

“I would have thought that was obvious.”

A frustrated sound buzzed in the back of her throat. “I’d rather you spell it out for me so there are no misunderstandings or false assumptions.”

The smile fell away, taking the facade with it and leaving behind a piercing expression that had a tremor racing through her body. For the first time since he’d walked in the door, Alyssa felt like maybe she was getting a true glimpse of the man. The problem was it scared her spitless. Beckett Kayne was a bloodthirsty animal with his prey clearly in his sights.

“Watch Me. I want it. Exclusively.”

“You’re making a mistake.”

“I seriously doubt it.”

Alyssa crossed her arms beneath her breasts and stared him down. “I assure you, you are. You think you’ve got us backed into a corner. You’re already counting your win. Don’t forget we still have time to come up with the funds.”

His shoulders rose and fell on a negligent shrug that had her teeth clacking together. She didn’t have the luxury of reacting, not if she wanted to save her company and the work she’d poured her heart and soul into for the past eighteen months.

“Call off your attack dogs. Get your offer together and let us review it along with the others we’re expecting in next week. We’ll even give you a few extra days if you need them.”

“Why would I do that, Ms. Vaughn? Long before you can formalize any offers and arrange payment I’ll have what I want. For the bargain price of a few months of your operating capital I’ll own not just the app, but your entire company.”

Dread flooded her mouth, it tasted bitter and vile, but she choked back her reaction. She would not let Beckett Kayne see her sweat.

“I will not let you destroy V&D. We’ll have the money in time, and when we do any chance you had for procuring the app disappears.”

Something sharp flashed through his blue-gray eyes. “You’ve made it clear I have no chance anyway. You forced me to play dirty, Ms. Vaughn. You don’t have the luxury of crying foul now that you’re the one sitting there covered in muck.”

Alyssa wheezed out a breath. But she refused to let his words derail her. She leaned across the table, closing the space between them. “I’m giving you one chance to do the right thing, Beckett. We both know calling that loan due four months early is a dirty move.”

Surprising her, Kayne matched her movements, leaning against the edge of the table and deep into her personal space. His stare was hard and indecipherable.

“It isn’t a dirty move. It’s a smart move. You strike me as an intelligent women, Ms. Vaughn. Something tells me you’re perfectly aware of my reputation. Do I look like the kind of man who’d care even if it was?”

Silence and tension crackled between them, making everything inside her contract.