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Sex could make one hell of a business tool, when wielded by the right hands.

Nicholas swallowed a knowing smirk as he looked across his massive mahogany desk at John Garrett, who sat in a leather wing-back chair, contemplating the contract. Like he hadn't seen it before. Hell, the guy's lawyers had been over the damn thing with a fine tooth comb. The young man, recently in control of his father's business, just couldn't commit.

So, Nick was going to help a bit.

The man's sexual fantasies, the ones Nicholas had determined by monitoring the man's internet activities for several weeks, were about to help him close the deal. Come back to bite Garrett in the ass, so to speak.

The smirk surfaced.

Literally, if that's what the man wanted.

The intercom buzzed and Nick glanced at his watch. Right on time. He leaned forward and jabbed a button. "What is it, Miss Holden? I'm in the middle of an important meeting and I left word that I was not to be disturbed!" ...

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