Chapter 16
Seven and a Half Years Ago
When Garrett Reid walked into the Odyssey Restaurant in the hills above the San Fernando Valley, he didn’t know his life would
forever change.
Love did that to a guy.
He’d gone to the Odyssey to seduce an older woman to carry him through the next few months. It wasn’t that he didn’t have
any money—he had plenty, thanks to his smart management of resources during his time at college. But he was bored, and he
didn’t like being bored.
Older women were so much more interesting than girls his own age. First, they could have adult conversations about virtually
any subject. Second, they appreciated sex. College girls had hang-ups and most fumbled along or faked it. Older women knew
exactly what to do to turn him on . . . and themselves. They actually enjoyed sex. They wanted to be seduced, and Garrett was very good at the game.
Blanche Richardson had taught him more about how to please a woman than the dozen girls he’d slept with in college. He didn’t
count his first time—he and Becca had both been virgins, they were both fumbling around and that was . . . different. Special
and, well, he didn’t want to think about her.
Blanche was smart and while she may have been fifty-one, she was attractive and classy and in amazing shape. The three months
he lived with her had been incredible.
College girls didn’t want to have sex every night. Blanche expected it. And she expected to be fully satisfied, which made
him eager to do everything he could to please her.
The happier Blanche was, the more she gave him—in and out of bed.
Then her son found out and nearly killed Garrett, so he was outta there.
The second woman he spent only a week with—and he learned a lot of lessons. At first, he thought he’d have a few months of
living the high life in Beverly Hills, but Sheila was crazy. She told him the first night that he’d given her the best orgasm
of her life, the next she said she’d cut off his dick while he slept because all men were pigs.
Yeah, he got out of there fast. Just because a woman was attractive, rich, and had the right zip code didn’t mean she was
sane.
But now he had a target and a plan: Vicki Montero was forty-nine, recently divorced, no kids, and had already dated a guy not much older than Garrett.
She was loaded, and Garrett figured if he played his cards right, he’d have a place to live for at least six months while
he worked out a longer-term plan.
Hell, maybe he’d marry her if the sex was good and she wasn’t crazy.
Vicki was sitting at a table in the bar drinking a martini. Garrett already had his in—research was his best friend.
But then he saw Audrey.
He didn’t know her name at the time; he only saw a beautiful woman. The singularly most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. She was blonde—his personal preference—but that wasn’t the reason he noticed
her. It wasn’t even her beauty that drew him in.
It was the way she looked at him when he crossed her path. The subtle cat-like gaze, eyes narrowed, as she assessed him.
She was in her late twenties—maybe five or six years older than him, but that made her even sexier. She was sitting with a
man in his late forties who had that air of Big Man on Campus. He looked like a former jock who expected beautiful younger
women to fall at his feet.
Audrey was everything. Classy. Gorgeous. And smart. He could see her brains as they worked—she had a plan.
They were kindred spirits. In that moment, he knew he’d met his other half, his fate.
When she looked at him, she knew it, too.
A thrill ran down his spine.
He approached Vicki Montero. Just because he had spied his possible soul mate across the room didn’t mean he could forget
about his current plans.
Audrey watched him. She touched the inner thigh of the man with her.
The next hour became a game of cat and mouse. He began the seduction of Vicki Montero. The dual relationship tracts excited
him. When the blonde excused herself to step outside, Garrett excused himself and followed her.
“I have a date,” she told Garrett.
“So do I.”
She raised an eyebrow. “It seems we both like older lovers.”
“Do we? Or maybe we haven’t found the right lover.”
“I need two weeks.”
“Why?”
She smiled slyly. “I’m Audrey.”
“Garrett. Why two weeks?”
“I’m in the middle of something important. Go play with the old woman for a while, and meet me here two weeks from tomorrow.”
“I’m going to kiss you.”
She tilted her chin up defiantly, with a glimmer of lust in her eyes.
He leaned in, she stepped back, hit the wall. He smiled, leaned in closer, his lips an inch from hers. She smelled dark and
dangerous and sexy.
“In two weeks,” he whispered and went back inside without the promised kiss.
Clara Dolan much preferred the name Audrey, she decided, and when she was done with her current mark, she might officially
change her name.
It would really tick off her mother, an added bonus.
She returned to the bar after she composed herself. That encounter—that almost kiss—was unexpected. She had never instantly
lusted for a man before in her life. But when Garrett walked in, she saw something in him that drew her to him, a moth to
a flame. If she didn’t have something important to do, she would have left with him right then and there.
He had skills. The way he charmed the old bat was a master class in seduction.
But Clara had her own game to play, which was why she gave him a fake name. She hoped to see him again . . . but if she didn’t,
then no harm, no foul.
She wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to destroy her nemesis. Even for a hot guy.
Emily Masters had it coming, the bitch.
She’d stolen Clara’s boyfriend. She’d stolen Clara’s promotion. She acted like the oh-so-sweet girl next door when she was
really a conniving little bitch.
And now she was getting married! What did he see in her? Truly, she must have drugged him or something if he agreed to marry that whiny, ugly little bitch.
Clara didn’t want him back, not after he got into Emily’s pants. Obviously, his taste was mediocre. But she still tried to
break them up because really, he couldn’t possibly think that Emily was a better woman than Clara. But their relationship didn’t fall apart.
So Clara decided to ruin her wedding.
She smiled at Richard Masters, Emily’s father.
Emily’s married father. Clara would make sure that his wife and daughter both knew he’d strayed .
. . a couple days before the I dos. It would make Emily miserable.
Maybe she’d call off the wedding, though Clara didn’t really much care. She just wanted to
hurt her, the perfect little Daddy’s Girl.
Garrett may have been good at seducing older women; Clara was a master at seducing men of all ages.
Except for one asshole who had a stick up his ass. Someday, that arrogant, self-righteous prick of a lawyer would get what
was coming to him. No man refused Clara.
Seduction was the easy part. The hard part—and the fun part—was ensuring she got everything out of the aftermath that she
wanted.
Two weeks later, Clara ordered a two-hundred-dollar bottle of champagne as she waited for Garrett.
Everything had worked out even better than Clara planned.
Emily still got married—Clara didn’t care about that—but after her father was disinvited to the wedding, Emily had cried for
days and looked like a wreck even with all the makeup. The reception was at a hotel and Clara watched the festivities from
the hotel bar.
She loved throwing a bomb and walking away.
Then he walked into the Odyssey. Garrett. As hot and sexy as she remembered.
She poured him a glass of champagne and asked, “How’s your girlfriend?”
He took the offered glass, sipped, assessed her. “Satisfied. Very satisfied.”
Clara said, “I only share if there’s something in it for me.”
He leaned forward. “I don’t share.”
His eyes were dark then, dangerous, a hint of violence.
Her stomach twisted in excitement. “This will be fun,” she whispered before she realized she had spoken.
He smiled then, his eyes sparkling with lust and humor. He really was perfect in all ways. “Tell me what you did these last
two weeks.”
She told him everything. How she seduced Richard Masters. Not that it had taken any effort, he had wanted her from the minute
he saw her. They had a “wild” affair that she “accidentally” exposed to his wife and daughter. “He didn’t know what hit him,”
Clara said. “Emily knew. She knew I set up the whole thing and that made it even better.”
“What did she do to you?”
“What didn’t she do? Stole my boyfriend, took my job—the lying bitch maneuvered behind my back. She has been a thorn in my
side ever since she came into my business. But I won. Her wedding was yesterday, and she was miserable the entire time. It won’t last.”
“It won’t?”
“No.”
“Maybe I can help, Audrey.”
In that moment, she fell in love. In that moment, she knew there would be no one else for her except Garrett Reid.
“Maybe you can,” she said, leaned forward, and kissed him. Lightly. Teasingly.
He grabbed her wrist and held it tight. “If this is going to work, there will be no secrets, no lies, no games between us.”
Then, she almost told him her real name. She almost told him everything about her life. But at the last second, she decided
to keep it to herself. After all, she had a trust fund. It would be best that he didn’t know quite how much money she had,
at least not yet.
Maybe she’d tell him later.
She stared at him. He’d grabbed her, yes, but there was no violence in his eyes, just lust. And, okay, a hint of danger, which
was super exciting. The idea that she was going to keep a secret from this man gave her a spark of fear, but that ignited
her own lust. “No games?” she said, her voice quivering. “What about sex games?”
He smiled. “Sweetheart, sex between us will always be fun, but it’ll never be a game.”