Chapter One
Sebastian Knight’s head pounded like a motherfucker, and light streamed in from the window, piercing through one eye and into his brain. He groaned and rolled over, burying his face in the pillow. At twenty-six, wasn’t he too damned old for a hangover like this? Yeah, he’d have to remember that the next time he picked up a glass of tequila and asked the bartender to keep them coming to celebrate closing a huge deal with his brothers for their tech company, Knight Time Technology. Except Ethan and Parker had gone home after toasting their success. After that, Sebastian didn’t remember much.
A flash of red flickered through his mind. A woman with flame-hued hair had joined him at the bar. He recalled the unusual color and the obviously fake but very tempting breasts that protruded over the top of her tight dress, along with his body’s reaction to her assets.
Shit.
Was he alone now?
He lifted his head and opened his eyes, not seeing anyone lying beside him and not recognizing where he was, but from the abundance of white furniture and the generic feel and look of the place, it was definitely a hotel room. An upscale suite but a hotel nevertheless.
Memory came back in small increments.
The deal they’d landed was to supply state-of-the-art locks to a defense contractor. They’d outbid some major players when Sebastian had stepped in and closed the deal, something he excelled at and his brothers counted on him to do.
They’d headed to The Bar at the Baccarat Hotel in order to celebrate. Toasted their success. He’d taken his first sip of Don Julio 1942, and it had gone down smooth.
And though he might not remember making the elevator ride up to this hotel room, he was here. Which meant he’d be the one making his escape from this one-night stand, hopefully without too much of a scene.
The click of a door sounded, and the redhead walked out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her body. Her cleavage was as ample as he remembered, her hair as red, her face? Not as pretty as he’d have hoped or as she’d probably appeared to his drunk self.
He scrubbed a hand over his gritty eyes and pushed up to a sitting position.
“Morning, lover.” She started toward him, her stride confident, but he wasn’t in the mood for small talk or sex.
Instead of waiting for her to ease onto the mattress alongside him, he slid out of bed and rose to his feet. He glanced down to find his pants, grateful to see a torn condom package on the floor beside his clothes. Thank God, even in his inebriated state, he’d been smart about wrapping up.
“Aren’t you going to stick around for a morning quickie?” she asked as she opened the towel, revealing her naked body, his for the taking.
His dick didn’t even perk up at the sight of her tits, and he shook his head. “Sorry, doll,” he said, because he didn’t remember her name, dressing as he spoke. “I have a meeting I need to get to.”
Her pout was real. “Didn’t you have a good time last night?” she asked, sounding hurt, fumbling to cover herself with the towel again in the face of his rejection.
I don’t remember wasn’t what she wanted to hear.
He zipped his trousers and slid on his white dress shirt, buttoning up. “It was great. But now it’s over,” he said, knowing he had to be very clear about his intentions or lack thereof. Socks and shoes went on next, and he was dressed and ready to go.
He patted his pockets, double-checking for his wallet and cell phone, and headed for the door. As awkward as this was, no need to prolong it or make it worse.
“Bastard,” she muttered.
And after he’d pulled the door closed, he heard what sounded like a shoe being thrown as the door clicked shut behind him. Yeah, he really was getting too old for this shit.
He pulled out his phone, only to discover he’d turned off the ringer sometime during the night and his brothers had tried to reach him numerous times. So had his younger sister, Sierra.
He narrowed his gaze. Why the hell had everyone been looking for him?
He took the elevator down to the first floor and walked through the lobby, across the white marble, and out into the Manhattan sunshine before hitting redial and calling his oldest brother, Ethan. When the call went directly to voicemail, he dialed Parker next.
“Where the fuck have you been?” his middle sibling all but yelled.
“Calm yourself, Switzerland,” he said, using the nickname the family had for Parker that had begun during his championship skiing days and stuck because he refused to take sides in family arguments, always tending to remain neutral. “I’m here now. What’s going on?”
Squinting into the sun, Sebastian hailed the first empty cab he saw, the driver coming to a skidding stop on his side of the street.