Naughty King (A Sexy Manhattan Fairytale, #1)

I roll my eyes. “Brother, if I were you, I wouldn’t touch that bitch with a double-bagged dick. She’s fuckin’ trouble.”


Jack’s face lights up as he glances back at the door before turning back to me, wiggling his eyebrows over his dark eyes. “My favorite kind.”

Oh, shit. I’ve just enticed him even more. Jack has been my wingman for a long time, and I know he’s just as smooth with the ladies as I am. If he sets his sights on Margo, he won’t give up until he’s fucked her seven ways till Sunday.

I’ve got to correct this situation stat. Throw a little ice water on him, so-to-speak, before he goes getting any crazy ideas like asking her out.

“She’s Dan Buchanan’s daughter,” I quickly inform him before he has a chance to get a full-on chub thinking about how damn hot Margo looks sitting out there on the other side of that door.

Jack’s eyes widen. “No fucking way! Buchanan produced that? I don’t believe it.”

I lean back in my chair and straighten my tie. “Afraid so.”

“So what’s she doing here? When you said you’d give her a job, I didn’t expect it to be as your assistant. Doesn’t she know that we’re about to dismantle her father’s business and sell it for parts? She should hate our guts, not be out there working for the enemy.”

I nod. “She knows, and it’s the very reason she’s here. The last time I met with Buchanan, as you know, he only agreed to sell me Buchanan Industries if I promised to give his darling daughter a job, so I figured I’d put her where I’d be able to keep my eye on her.”

His brow furrows. “He can get her a job as a secretary anywhere.”

“He was afraid that since she’s a new grad, she’d have a tough time finding something that paid well in this economy.”

He shakes his head. “I still don’t understand why make it part of the deal that she has to work here for you?”

I drum my fingers on the desk. “Think about it, Jack. Buchanan is a crafty old son-of-a-bitch. He’s going to fight tooth and nail to figure out a way to save his business. By getting his daughter in here, he figures he’ll be able to get info about the buyers we have lined up and cut us off at the pass. Then he’ll try to make a deal with them first to sell off pieces of his company that are easily discarded, leaving him with less overhead and keeping him afloat until he can figure out his next move.”

“And you agreed to let her come here knowing that? Shit, Alexander. She could ruin everything.” I hear the edge in Jack’s voice. He’s never been one to keep a cool head when he stresses. “We’ve got billions riding on this deal. You have to become the activist shareholder in Buchanan Industries.”

I hold up my hand, stopping him before he even gets started. “Relax, Jack. I have this under control. Do you honestly think that Margo Buchanan is a match for me? Come on, man. You’ve known me for how long now?”

He shakes his head. “You’re right. I do know you, which means I know that women are your fucking kryptonite. Face it; you’ve been in a rut for a couple of years now. Hell, you’ve not been the same since Jess fucked you over. You haven’t been with a woman longer than one night since her. If Margo wags her hot ass in front of you, you’ll leap, my friend, and your self-control will be flushed down the fucking toilet. She’ll get in your head, and this whole deal will be fucked.”

I know Jack thinks that I’ve hit a dry spell since Jess Fontaine left me for another man two years ago—that she crushed me—but he couldn’t be more wrong. Jess taking off with some tennis pro she met at the country club only hardened me more. It made me stronger—made me realize that love really doesn’t exist. It’s just this thing people created to comfort themselves within stories—a mythical thing like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. I learned a long time ago that fairy tales don’t exist. People need to stop wasting their time searching for something that isn’t real.

Paying for * is definitely the way to go.

So Jack needs to stop worrying about me. Margo Buchanan will not get to me no matter how tempting she may be.

I chuckle. “Trust me. That’s not going to happen.”

“Make sure it doesn’t. We need Buchanan to sell you his shares. Our Japanese connections want pieces of his company, and the only way we can make that happen is if you’re the main shareholder. We can’t afford for anything to go wrong.”

“You’ve got to stop worrying. You’re going to make yourself old and gray far too soon.” I push myself away from the desk and walk over to the small bar that’s in my office. The crystal decanter holding my favorite thirty-year-old scotch clinks against the glass as I pour the amber liquid. “Come have a drink with me. Let’s celebrate our victory before we close this deal over lunch.”

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