A workday. Goddamn work.

"Fuck." He shook his head at the whispered word, squeezed his eyes closed.

He lifted off the bed and moved to sit in a chair, shadowed in the corner. What was he going to do now? What the hell had he been thinking yesterday? He'd always had an endgame before he made a move. He'd done everything backwards with her. He hadn't been able to stop himself after she'd flirted with the damned bartender yesterday. Now he was totally screwed. How could he convince her not to hate him? How could he keep from being left out in the cold?

He watched the twist and roll of her body, listened to the soft moans and sleepy mumbles as she shifted to her side. A pillow flopped to the floor and the sheet receded to reveal more of her creamy skin. Was she dreaming about him? She let out a delicate sigh, looked so soft, sweet, and vulnerable. He huffed and shook his head in regret. She was going to hate him and have every right to.

Come sunrise, his hellcat would be back-teeth bared, claws out.

Kat stepped into the taxi feeling refreshed and energized. She'd taken a long hot shower, charged her dead cell battery, and now headed to the office. A deep breath pulled a serene smile on her contented face. Yesterday had certainly been an unexpected surprise. A shiver raced up her back as she recalled the night spent with Tucker Williams.

She still couldn't believe what she'd done. Since her days of unabashed, youthful indiscretions at Columbia, she'd nixed one-night stands, especially now as a woman in the second half of her thirties. Oh yeah, she talked a big game, loved to flirt-hell, it was one of her favorite pastimes, but she'd had certain rules for a long time now. And she'd broken every damned one of them last night.

Curiosity had gotten the better of her, tempted her to take a walk on the wild side again. Maybe it was just the man himself. As exasperating as Tucker could be, she'd felt an unmistakable pull toward him the longer she'd sat near him, the more he'd riled her up. She knew he'd done it on purpose. He wasn't some clueless man; he'd known exactly what he was doing yesterday. She shook her head and glanced out at the pedestrians moving faster than the taxi.

She'd never been with a man who looked or sounded like Tucker. Jesus, what a cocky bastard, but the man could back it up. She'd gotten used to men disappointing her over the years, in bed and out, but he'd exceeded her expectations, her wildest dreams. She couldn't remember ever having had so much fun in bed with a man. Fun. They laughed, fought, and played. You name it, they did it like sex-starved animals racing against the apocalypse.

She pressed her lips together and snickered, shook her head at the memories. Okay, Kathryn James, fun and done, now get back to reality, she chastised in her head. But he was a hard man to forget. Compared to her own experiences and her friends' stories over the years, she'd had a flipping phenomenal one-night stand, one for the record books. The rarity of their chance encounter made letting go difficult. She wanted to savor the sweat-soaked memories a while longer.

Kat tugged self-consciously at her collar. She'd had to leave her hair down, use cover-up, and wear a collared blouse this morning to hide the damned hickey he'd left. She squirmed at the steamy images of the other marks hidden beneath her clothing.

She'd left Tucker twisted in the sheets sound asleep about five thirty this morning. Just as well. What could they really have said to each other? Better to leave quietly, no pretense of calling, exchanging numbers, all the awkward nonsense magnified in the light of reality. He had a life to get back to in Montana anyway. And most important: he wasn't her type. They lived in different worlds, opposite sides of the country. Now, at least, she had a complete erotic collection of memories to keep tucked away for use when the time came to reacquaint herself with-B.O.B.

After paying the cabbie, Kat stopped for coffee, then squeezed into the cramped metal box for the grumbling ride upstairs. She headed straight for Cassie's office, surprised not to get any calls from her type-A partner about the failed meeting yesterday. Just as well, Cassie would be disappointed by the news, but they could find another investor. She closed in on her partner's corner office and scrunched her face at the empty space. Kat would call if she didn't hear from Cassie in the next half hour.

Flipping the lights on in her own corner office, Kat dropped her tote on a chair. She glanced across her desk and noticed the talking points Cassie had so meticulously prepared for her. Without looking at it, she tossed the paper into her trash can and strolled over to a window to watch the busy morning traffic below. She leaned against the window frame and savored the aroma and taste of the caramel macchiato she'd purchased downstairs.

She wondered what Tucker was doing. She imagined him warm and naked, morning wood tenting the sheet, his blue eyes daring her to take him down, his fingers tickling and teasing-she shook her head to clear the carnal pictures of him, of them. Then Dan's face replaced Tucker's, and she shook her head again, harder.

Where had he come from?

She'd come close to calling him numerous times over the past few months. Last night she'd almost speed-dialed him before deciding Tucker should be the one to ease the ache he'd caused.

Dan Walsh.

Colorful memories packed with countless good times bathed her in familiar, wistful affection, a special bond created over many, many years. He'd been a great friend through life's ups and downs. Their friendship, relationship, whatever the broader classification had been, had worked well for both of them during college and the go-go years of getting their respective businesses off the ground. The friends-lovers had withstood the test of time.

Until time played a cruel trick.

Their synergy hit a wall about a year ago; he'd wanted more, a relationship with strings attached. Followed by a fateful mistake on his part.

An ultimatum.

He should've known better than to push her into a corner ...

"Oh, great, you're here," Cassie said, stepping into Kat's office.

"Hey! You must be feeling better."

Cassie beamed like the proverbial cat who'd swallowed the canary as she rubbed her hands together, a huge grin lighting up her pale face. "Great news, Kat," she said, with hushed excitement. "I think we're going to get the money."

"What're you talking about?"

Cassie gave her a perplexed look. "Diamond Industries, silly. What else would I be talking about?"

Kat scoffed. "They were a no-show yesterday, Cass."

"Well, I just finished having coffee with the owner and he seems very interested. He'd like to talk privately with you first before we all sit down and hammer out the details. I imagine he has some specific questions about the financials and projections. He's here now. He needed to take a business call, so I came up ahead of him."

Kat felt like a bit player in a Twilight Zone episode.

The chime sounded in the reception area. Cassie angled back, peeking outside Kat's door. A big smile spread across her face. She stepped out into the hallway and motioned in the direction of Kat's office.

"Kat's here now so when you two are done, we can all sit down and get the details worked out, if you'd like."

Kat stepped to her desk and set her hot drink down. When she looked up, her legs almost gave out.

Tucker Williams filled her doorway in those same worn jeans and old boots, wearing a white T-shirt under a dark leather jacket. The man she'd had wild, savage sex with just hours earlier. Apparently, she wasn't going to avoid the walk of shame. However, her initial shock and embarrassment shifted in the blink of an eye to red-hot fury when she read his expression: he wasn't surprised to see her. Of course, he wasn't. He'd known all along.

She'd been played. Even worse, she'd allowed it to happen.

The apology, the plea, written on his face and loud in his eyes only made her angrier. She swallowed hard as the full, unforgiving brunt of understanding punched her in the gut, then raced in a hot ball of rage to her lungs. "You son of a bitch!"

"Kat!" Cassie squealed in embarrassment. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Williams. Really. I don't know what's-"

"Is that how you normally conduct business, you smug asshole?"

Tucker's focus dropped to the floor, his jaw clenched.

"My God, Kat! Enough!" Cassie grabbed Tucker's arm and attempted to pull him out of the line of fire. "We can go to my office. I'm so sorry about this," she said, shooting Kat an angry, mortified look.

"No, that's okay. Ms. James and I have some things to work out, that's all," he said, his tone contrite.

Kat erupted in mock laughter.

"We don't have anything to work out. It's all very clear, and I'm not wasting one more second on you. Get out!" She aimed an accusatory finger at him.

He wouldn't look at her. He wouldn't move, either.

Kat grabbed a paperweight from her desk and launched it. Cassie screamed and Tucker ducked as the heavy crystal commemorative smashed through the frosted glass panel of the conference room across the hall.

Cassie stood frozen, mimicking Edvard Munch's "The Scream." And Tucker, face colored in shame, finally made eye contact with Kat. Oh, he looked pitiful. A mere shadow of the man she'd met yesterday, fucked last night. He couldn't possibly think she'd buy his act today. Bile burned at the back of her throat. What a lowlife loser.

She stalked over to him and glared with fiery condemnation. "Go to hell, Tucker! And take your money with you."

Then she stormed out of her office.

Kat couldn't stop shaking, hands trembling as she held them out in front of her. She dared a look in the mirror. She wanted to throw up, wanted a do-over for yesterday, wanted the earth to open up and swallow her whole. The sad truth: she had no one to blame but herself. She turned on the cold tap, splashed her face, and hoped she'd wake from the humiliation of this nightmare.

The image of her mother standing with her stiff posture and sour, disappointed expression on her collagen-injected face galled Kat the most. God, she hated it when that woman was right about anything! Kat's life choices had already created enough tension with her family. The salacious backstory on today's outburst couldn't go beyond Cassie.

"Jesus, just wait until Cassie finds out what you've done." The distraught reflection in the mirror turned mute. Kat winced, braced her hands on the sink, and closed her eyes, head shaking in disgrace. She desperately needed to go home and stand under scalding hot water-all day.

The squeaking outer door signaling someone's entrance evaporated the cloud of self-pity surrounding her. Kat ripped off a paper towel, pressed it against her damp face, and inhaled deeply before tossing the crumpled wad in the receptacle. When she turned to make her exit, she gulped air and stumbled back.

"What the hell are you doing in a women's restroom?"

Tucker positioned himself against the door, hands dug deep into his front pockets, the swagger and bravado from yesterday now gone.

"I'm sorry, Kat."

Her eyes and nostrils flared at his use of her name-the name he'd pretended not to know yesterday.

"Not nearly as sorry as I am, darlin'." He winced. "Why are you here? Why haven't you left yet?"

"I need to explain what happened. Why I made the decision I did."

No cockiness today. He'd eaten a whole humble pie by himself.

Kat gaped at him, incredulous he would even bother. Then she parked her hands on her hips, her stance defiant. "Don't want to hear it, sweetheart. The time for explaining is long over. You should've explained who you were yesterday, before you ever sat in that booth with me."

He sighed in defeat and nodded. "No argument there. That's exactly what I should've done." He watched her, guardedly. "But I didn't want to." Kat huffed, rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "You wouldn't have given me a chance if I had and you know it."

Kat leveled her scorn at Tucker.

"You mean not given you the chance to use, embarrass, and humiliate me? Yeah, you're right. I would never have given you that chance." The anger bubbled and boiled, her tone laced with hurt and shame.

He nodded. "I know." His cheek twitched from the tight clench of his jaw. "You think I don't know I'm not your type? Look at you. The picture of high class. And me, well, not so much. And if I'd told you who I was yesterday, you never would've looked at me as anything other than an investor, a business partner."

"How the hell would you know anything, huh? Maybe that's just the way I do things. The way I close deals-up against a fucking wall!"

He flinched. "I know better than that."

"Like hell you do! You don't know shit about me, and I know less than shit about you! Oh well, I guess I do know a bit more now, don't I? But that's really beside the point. It's too little, and way too damn late.

"I made a really bad call last night." She laughed in disdain at the punishment handed down to her for having been too horny to think straight. "What an understatement that is." Her attention drifted in contemplation.

"There was a time when a mistake like this wouldn't have even been worth a second thought to me. But," she paused, "I'm not a girl anymore. I have responsibilities, a business, ambitions ... And it's all harder when you're a woman in a man's world. There's even less room for error, for poor judgment."

She dropped her head and stared at the tiled floor, folded her arms around herself. Tucker started to speak, but Kat silenced him with the slice of her hand through the air.

"Shut the hell up! I really don't want to hear your voice. I don't even want to look at you. I don't want to be anywhere near you." The rage of adrenaline rushed out of her body, left her feeling cold and limp, the fight draining away. Shaking her head in regret, she spoke just above a whisper and refused to look at him. "Get away from the door. I want out. Now." She moved toward the exit, and Tucker reluctantly let her pass.

On her way out, she glanced back, not at him but past him at some distant focal point. Her voice void of emotion, she said, "I know Cassie, and she'll do her best to save this deal. Understand one thing: I will never sign off on anything you're involved in."

Declaration made, Kat James walked away with the dangling shred of dignity she still had intact.

She trudged back to her office as all the lies and omissions from yesterday replayed in her head: I'll leave as soon as your mystery person gets here; I'm from all over; a little of this, a little of that. And her personal favorite: what you see is what you get. Nausea bubbled in her belly. She grabbed her bag. Time to go home. She needed to hide out and lick her wounds.

Before exiting her office, Kat walked back to the trash can next to her desk. She retrieved the talking points tossed there earlier. The truth stared back at her in black and white, plain as day. Diamond Industries, Owner/President: Tucker fucking Williams. The only thing he hadn't lied about-his name. The image next to the business profile showed a slightly younger man with shorter hair, an easy smile, wearing an open-collared, button-down shirt. Kat wadded the paper tightly and tossed it back in the trash-where it belonged.

Cassie's frantic voice and the sound of glass fragments underfoot assaulted Kat's senses.

"I've already contacted the building manager about cleaning up this mess and replacing the glass panel." She hesitated, watching Kat with a worried expression. "My God, Kat, what's going on? You'd better have a good explanation about what just happened. You know finding a credible investor isn't easy. And I don't think I need to remind you we're asking for a substantial investment."

"I know." The words burned her throat. She'd ruined this for them.

Cassie continued to talk, but Kat walked past her.

"I'm going home. I may not be in for a few days. I'm not feeling well."

In the distance, Tucker stood in the lobby. Cassie had probably herded him back in an attempt to salvage scraps from the wreckage. As Kat advanced closer, she held her breath and walked by him, not even wanting to share the same air with him. She held her head high, shoulders back, and walked with purpose. Out the corner of her eye, Tucker Williams seemed to have shrunken a bit.

No longer larger than life.

Six months passed without much free time to dwell on mistakes or poor judgment. Kat and Cassie had worked hard. They'd teamed up with another investor and the expansion of J&P Enterprise, now well underway, continued to roll out smoothly. And now the fruits of their labor meant they could finally begin to enjoy a bit of downtime and more reasonable work hours. The lack of playtime hadn't bothered Kat; penance well deserved for going off the rails, with him.

After the embarrassing debacle at the office with Tucker Williams, Cassie hadn't let Kat off the hook. She'd camped outside her apartment and pounded on the door until Kat had finally caved and let her inside. Once she'd confessed the sordid details, Cassie had become an avowed Tucker Williams hater and had given Kat the love and support she'd needed to put the embarrassing fiasco behind her. Their thirty year friendship trumped business.

After swearing Cassie to secrecy, Kat had sealed the tainted memory shut, never to be spoken of again. The fallout from the Montana mountain man had realigned her focus and her goals.

A positive from a negative.

Kat pulled herself from the introspection as the echo of chatter in her parents' wide penthouse foyer filtered into her consciousness. She scanned the gathering; nieces and nephews and sisters-in-law, their heads bobbing in conversation and polite laughter. Kat sighed in relief, another James family function marked off the calendar, overdone with her mother's customary flair for pomp and circumstance. Kyle, her youngest brother, had missed the festooned Easter celebration. He was still out of the country on business.

Lucky bastard.

Kyle had always made these photo ops more bearable for her. Yes, a professional photographer had been hired to snap candid pictures of her pretentious family, and said pictures would end up in the society pages.

Kat waited a safe distance from the fray, her eyes skipping around the area, noting smiles, handshakes, and nods. She wished she felt closer to these people. They were her family after all. But she'd learned over the years that blood is not always thicker than water. Kat's backbone and independence had been a detriment, had made her an outsider from the beginning in this Machiavellian cast.

She searched for Grant, her date, locating him as he held their coats at the other side of the vestibule. Unfortunately, her mother had him pinned. Poor Grant.

An artful bump to her back jerked Kat's attention to her least favorite person of the bunch.

"He's far better than you deserve," Parker said in her ear, with a sneer. Her middle brother was discreet as always, no witnesses to hear his snarky, whispered insults.

Asshole.

She subtly angled her heeled foot behind her and Parker stumbled over it. He quickly straightened himself and shot a scathing look her way. She smirked at him, satisfaction written on her face. No one around them seemed to notice their scuffle; business as usual in the James family. She'd confronted Parker more than once in the past about his nasty attitude toward her. But he'd only ever answered her with cold, hard stares. She no longer cared why he disliked her. She had far better uses for her time than giving a damn about her haughty brother.

Kat's focus resettled on the man to whom Parker had referred: Grant Collins, the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. He stood listening, trapped in a corner and patient as always, while Sarah James fawned over him. Her bejeweled wrist was draped around his arm. Kat considered intervening but instead enjoyed the view of her attractive date.

Grant's exterior had been a slam dunk at first sight when she'd met him after a run in Central Park. Kat had been relaxing on a bench, watching the radio-controlled sailboats and yachts at Conservatory Water. Grant had stopped nearby to stretch and cool down after his own workout. Then he'd sat quietly, unobtrusively, on the other end of the bench, eventually introducing himself.