Sinful Proposition

Realizing what Tempest was insinuating, Goldie swallowed hard. Much to Tempest’s delight, the initial shock that had passed through her friend’s gaze moments ago was swiftly replaced with intrigue—just as they reached the attractive trio.

“Gentlemen.” Tempest greeted them with a welcoming smile as she lightly grabbed Goldie’s arm and brought her forward—and closer to the three hungry-looking bears who did nothing to disguise how captivated they were by her. “I’d like to introduce you to Goldie Monroe, the friend of mine that I mentioned is an interior designer for boutique hotels. I know you’re looking for someone to design and decorate the resort you just finished renovating, and while Goldie’s business is in high demand, I’m sure if you’re interested in her services, you can make her an offer she can’t refuse.”

A charming smile graced Quinn’s lips. “Oh, I’m sure we can come to a mutual agreement of some sort. The three of us can be very persuasive.”

Tempest didn’t doubt that at all. Jonas, Caleb, and Quinn all introduced themselves and shook her hand in turn, but with Quinn being the last to touch Goldie, he didn’t sever the connection between them. His thumb boldly caressed the back of her slender hand, soft yet possessive, as he shifted his gaze to Tempest, a dark brow raised.

“You failed to mention how absolutely stunning she is,” Quinn said, his tone mildly chastising. “I would have demanded an introduction much sooner had we known.”

“I didn’t want to spoil the surprise,” Tempest teased.

A pink blush swept across Goldie’s porcelain complexion, proving she was not used to being the center of attention.

All three men noticed the rosy flush of color, too.

“Stunning . . . and modest,” Jonas pointed out, seemingly enjoying that demure attribute of hers.

“Hopefully not too modest.” Caleb winked at her, which seemed to fluster Goldie even more.

Tempest decided that her job here was done and whatever happened with these three men, be it business or pleasure or both, would be all up to her friend. “Now that introductions have been made, I’ll let you all get to know one another better.”

Confident her friend was in good hands—six of them, to be exact—Tempest moved on, heading toward the area set up for the evening’s entertainment. The large stage was embellished with eye-catching props and lighting effects, while Raevynn Walsh—one of the hottest pop stars currently dominating the charts with her success—performed a pre-dinner set for the guests gathered nearby.

She was sitting on a wooden swing decorated in vines and flowers, slowly swaying back and forth across the stage while enthralling her audience with her latest hit ballad, “Wishing For You.” Between the flowing, crystal-studded lilac gown she was wearing that swirled around her as she seemingly floated through the air and her long, wavy blonde hair that fell all the way down her back, she looked breathtakingly beautiful as she crooned the emotional lyrics to the song she’d composed herself.

Collin Donovan, who worked under her brothers at MadX-Tech as a security analyst, stood off to the side by himself, away from the rest of the guests gathered around or slow dancing to Raevynn’s song. Tempest knew from the RSVP list that he’d come to the fairy-tale ball without a plus one, and at the moment, he seemed completely infatuated by the beautiful woman performing on stage.

Tempest came up beside him, but Collin was so mesmerized by Raevynn he didn’t even glance her way. “Enjoying the show?” she asked, amused by his sole focus on the singer.

Startled out of whatever spell he’d been under, he turned his head, and realizing he had unexpected company, he shifted a bit uncomfortably on his feet but managed to produce a semblance of a smile. “Yes. Very much.”

Tempest followed Collin’s gaze back up to the stage, the singer’s husky, angelic voice causing goose bumps to rise on her arms. “She’s pretty amazing, isn’t she?” Tempest had been both shocked and thrilled when Raevynn had agreed to play at this year’s fairy-tale ball. It had been a long shot considering the other woman’s back-to-back tour dates, but somehow the stars had aligned in Tempest’s favor and the singer had managed to make room in her schedule.

“She’s incredible,” Collin agreed as he took a sip from the dark liquor in the glass he was holding, his posture relaxing. “She’s come a long way.”

His words had a personal, intimate undertone to them, which stirred Tempest’s curiosity. “You’re either a super fan . . . or you know her?”

Collin glanced back at Tempest. “I knew her,” he said in a way that was deliberately past tense. “We went to high school together. We dated . . . until she was cast on that singing show, Encore, and moved on to bigger and better things. But this is everything Rae has ever wanted and deserves, so I’m happy for her.”

Tempest believed he meant what he said, but there was a tinge of melancholy in his voice that indicated there was so much more to their story. That whatever happened between them wasn’t so cut-and-dried as he made it sound.

Knowing it wasn’t her place to pry, she instead tried lightening the mood. “She’s a phenomenal singer, but I have to admit that I have total hair envy,” she joked of Raevynn’s long and silky blonde locks that had earned her millions from one of the biggest major shampoo brands in the market. “She has every girl’s dream hair.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I used to tease her and call her Rapunzel. When we were dating, I’d go over to her house late at night and call up to her second-story bedroom window and jokingly shout out, ‘Rapunzel, let down your hair.’”

She laughed, because Raevynn did remind her of that fairy-tale princess. “Is that how you snuck into her bedroom?”

His mouth curved in humor. “No. That would have been a helluva lot of hair pulling.”

She shrugged teasingly. “You never know. Some girls like that kind of thing.”

He shook his head, his grin fading. “She was young. We were both young, and unfortunately we didn’t have enough time together to figure those things out.”

But he’d wanted to. Tempest could see the desire in his eyes, the unrequited feelings that still burned bright for the woman who was at the pinnacle of her career. “Does she know you’re here at the ball?”

He took a long drink from his glass before replying. “No. We haven’t been in touch . . . in a very long time.”

“Maybe you should sneak backstage and surprise her when she’s done performing the second part of her show after dinner,” Tempest suggested. “I promise to look the other way and not alert security.”