Boardroom Sins

It’s just business...

Until it becomes deliciously personal

In college, Rebecca Daniels and Brett Collins had a hot rivalry—with sexy benefits. Brett’s company has competed with the Daniels family business for years. And with Rebecca back in town as CEO, Brett has initiated a hostile takeover...just after they share a seriously naughty encounter! Now the battlefield is in both the boardroom and the bedroom. But sometimes the line between love and hate is thinner than you think...

“DARE is Harlequin’s hottest line yet. Every book should come with a free fan. I dare you to try them!”

—Tiffany Reisz, international bestselling author

J. MARGOT CRITCH currently lives in St John’s, Newfoundland, with her husband, Brian, and their two little buddies, Simon and Chibs. She spends equal amounts of time writing, listening to Jimmy Buffett’s music and looking out at the ocean—all the while trying to decide if she wants coffee or a margarita.

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Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Boardroom Sins

J. Margot Critch

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07121-5

BOARDROOM SINS

© 2018 Juanita Margot Critch

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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To my badass older sister, Claudette. Thank you for teaching me to know my worth, how to take no crap, and to live my life how I see fit. I know you’ve always loved me, even though I was SUCH A PEST, and you threatened to hang me up by my ankles more than once. I’m sorry I laughed when you said The Purge could happen. I think you might have been right. I love you, Sissy!

To Taryn Leigh Taylor, my Blaze Babe and Dare Darling. Thank you for the rant sessions and the encouragement. You’re an amazing sounding board, colleague, confidant and friend. We got this!

To Johanna, Kathleen and the rest of the editorial team at Mills & Boon. This book was a challenge, and yet you all stood by me and helped me piece it together. Thank you for the support, guidance and patience. I couldn’t do this without you. I’m blessed to have such wonderful, dedicated people on my team.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Extract

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

BRETT COLLINS WAS BORED.

He looked past his circle of friends as they talked among themselves, barely hearing what they were discussing, and he scanned the large room. He’d grown up in rooms like this, attending parties like this. As the only son of one of the most influential businessmen in Las Vegas, he’d gotten to know all the players at a young age. But as he sipped his glass of soda water, he almost sighed out loud. The same faces, the same discussions, the same deals.

He was restless. He wanted—needed—a challenge. Something new.

Collins/Fischer—the real estate development company he’d started with his friend Alex, the linchpin of their other operations—had seen great success in the past years, and they’d maintained a comfortable spot near the top. But he wanted more. He wanted to be number one. And as he looked across the room for inspiration, a sign of what would be next for him, he found nothing.

Inherently, Brett hated schmoozing parties, preferring instead to meet with people in a less manufactured setting. But they did serve their purpose: talking to people, finding out the local gossip—who had been fired, who had been hired, who’d signed what deals, who was under indictment, who was sleeping with whom. And that was why he and The Brotherhood—his closest friends and business partners since college—had gone to Mayor Thompson’s party. To look for their next opportunity to strike, to make another splash on the local scene. At only thirty, they’d all done quite well for themselves, and while many in the room hated and feared them, were jealous of and intimidated by the business acumen of the group, they all still wanted a piece of them. Everyone in the room would benefit from a close relationship with the members of The Brotherhood.

There was Alex, his business partner in real estate; Gabe, one of the top lawyers in the city; Rafael, a Las Vegas city councillor; and Alana, the only woman in their circle, who was a talented interior designer, but she’d become the manager of the group’s restaurants and exclusive club. Together they made up The Brotherhood—and together they planned to use their expertise and influence to run the city.

Needless to say, they weren’t at the party for social purposes. They’d secured for themselves a quiet corner of the room, near the bar, to establish their game plan for the evening. Whom they each needed to talk to, what they hoped to accomplish and just when the hell they could get out of there. But Brett couldn’t manage to focus his tired mind. He’d had a rough couple of weeks, workwise, and it was all thanks to Rebecca Daniels, the devastatingly sexy CEO of Daniels International, a rival real estate development firm. She was a major threat currently, but he and Rebecca also had a fiery past.

Brett turned back to his friends and took another drink from his glass. The soda water, infused with lime and basil, was refreshing but didn’t improve his mood. His friends were listing the important people they wanted to approach and make connections with, but Brett could find no one in attendance whom he was interested in seeing. He couldn’t deal with another stuffed shirt or old cohort of his father’s coming up to him and asking about the elder Collins, instead of expressing interest in Brett’s endeavors. Brett loved and respected his father, but even in his years of running his own successful empire, he’d found it difficult to blaze his own trail in the shadow of Garrett Collins, one of the city’s most influential men.

“Did you see that the Heinrich brothers are here tonight?” Alana asked the group, gesturing to two men in the center of the room. “I might have to go introduce myself. They’re visiting from Sweden, looking to open a new hotel on the Strip, and I heard they may be looking for a design collaborator,” she said, turning on her most seductive smile, sauntering away and raising her hand in greeting.

“And Mayor Thompson is finally free,” Rafael said. “I’d better go put in an appearance, seeing as I’m trying to secure his endorsement before I announce I’m running for mayor.” He stepped away, as well.

Alex leaned in. “Brett, the guy from Permits is here and we need to talk to him. See if we can’t grease the wheels and get the paperwork quickly approved for the new subdivision.”

Brett nodded without much interest.

Alex didn’t miss it. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I’m just tired, I guess. I haven’t slept much this week. This messing around with Daniels International is starting to get to me.” It all started a few months ago when the other company had outmaneuvered Brett and Alex in scooping up and securing a huge deal out from under them, costing Collins/Fischer a small fortune. Brett and Alex had responded by buying out one of Daniels’s key suppliers and raising the prices. He could only imagine the scrambling that had gone on at DI that day. But then Rebecca had countered by poaching one of their VPs and giving him a place at Daniels International. Escalation had been quick, vicious, and he’d racked his brain trying to figure out his next step. But it had to be big. Nobody screwed with Collins/Fischer. Brett had to end the feud, and quick.

“You have to put it aside,” Alex told him. “We shouldn’t let this escalate too much. We need to focus on our own work and not worry about Rebecca Daniels or Daniels International.” Brett opened his mouth to speak, but Alex plowed over him. “I know you guys have history. But focus. What’s important now is our own success, not revenge.”

“Whatever history I may or may not have with Rebecca Daniels has nothing to do with the business.”

“You’ve been working day and night for the past couple of months. Why don’t you go on home? Get some sleep, go to the club and get laid, watch TV, whatever. I can handle things here. I’ll talk to the permits guy.”

Sex and sleep—hell, even crashing in front of the television—definitely sounded better than smooth talking anyone in attendance at the party, but he couldn’t make himself leave and take a night off. If he wasn’t working, or thinking about work, it felt like he was wasting his time. Work provided the necessary distraction from his thoughts and darker urges. “I know you can handle it. But you know me. I don’t do well with downtime,” Brett returned, grimacing. Downtime led to boredom, and boredom led to cravings. He sipped his water again.

“Yeah, but it isn’t healthy to spend every waking moment thinking about the business.”

“Are you really giving me this lecture? You’re just like me.”

Alex laughed, and Brett followed his friend’s gaze across the room, until it landed on a gorgeous blonde wearing a tight black dress. “Yeah, but I know how to take the night off to allow time for the finer things.” The blonde looked back and smiled, waving to Alex. “And that’s my cue,” he muttered and sauntered away to focus on the finer things, leaving Brett alone.

Brett knocked back the rest of his water and put his glass on the bar. Maybe he should leave, see what he could get up to at Di Terrestres. He scanned the crowd one more time, hoping to find inspiration for the next big project, the one that would make him and his friends, The Sin City Brotherhood, legends of Las Vegas. He watched the door to the ballroom open, and a beautiful, glamorous woman entered the party. And his eyes connected with the one face that made his blood boil with anger and lust—the blast from the past who was currently working tirelessly to ruin his life. The woman who plucked his memories, tore at his chest and stiffened his posture, not to mention his dick—Rebecca Daniels.

* * *

Rebecca smoothed a hand down the front of her black silk dress and straightened the hem that hit several inches above her knees. She accepted a glass of champagne from a server balancing a tray on his fingertips, and she sipped from it. She’d been attending events like Mayor Thompson’s party for years, and they were like second nature to her. She felt at ease, able to mingle her way through the crowds, shift in and out of conversations. But that night, she wanted no more than to go home and crash in her bed. She’d had a long few weeks—an even longer few months since her father had passed away six months ago and she’d taken the helm of Daniels International. She’d had time for little else than work lately.

Her father had excelled at functions like this; he’d made time for everyone and had had the ability to make everyone he interacted with feel like the most important person in the room, even when he was exhausted and overworked. And so could she. It was something he’d passed on to Rebecca, but though she was good at networking, her father had been legendary.

She sipped her champagne again, willing the alcohol to whisk away the melancholy. But it wasn’t working. Frowning, she realized that she shouldn’t have even come here, and she wouldn’t have if she hadn’t been personally invited by Mayor Thompson, who was a close family friend.

“My God, Rebecca.” She heard a pleasant greeting from her right. She turned and saw Ben Thompson, the city’s long-standing mayor, and his wife, Esther, coming toward her. She smiled as they each embraced her.

“How are you, dear?” Ben asked her. “I’m sorry we haven’t been in touch since the funeral. Your father is truly missed.”

“Thank you. I miss him, too.”

“Thank you for coming tonight,” Ben said, patting her hand with his. “I’m glad you were able to make it.”

Rebecca smiled, knowing that he meant it. She’d always had such great memories of Ben and Esther, of family barbecues and vacations. After Rebecca’s mother passed away when she was a baby, Esther had stepped in to be a sort of surrogate, providing love, support and guidance; and Ben had always been at her father’s side, avuncular, an uncle figure since her childhood.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, and I’m well,” she said. “How are you both?”

“Things are good,” Ben answered. “I’m retiring this year and finally stepping down. I don’t think I have another campaign in me.”

“Oh, really?” Rebecca was surprised to hear it. “And then what will you do with your time?”

“I’m going to make him relax,” Esther answered. “Days filled with golf, traveling, arts and crafts—”

“Sounds awful,” Ben interrupted, and they all laughed. “Dear,” he said as he reached out for her hand, “we must move on, but let’s get together sometime soon.”

“Absolutely.” Rebecca smiled as the couple left to greet another set of guests.

Satisfied with her first social interaction of the evening, Rebecca took a deep breath and scanned the room. Sipping her champagne again, she felt her confidence bolster. Despite the size of her father’s enormous shoes, and how hard she’d been working to fill them, she knew she could do this. She could handle being the new face and CEO of Daniels International. This job was in her blood.

Rebecca’s gaze struck on one of the reasons for her increased workload. Brett Collins was arrogant, stubborn and probably looking for retribution after the recent series of events between their two companies.

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t be physically affected by him.

Every system in her body ran hot as she saw him casually lean an elbow against the bar. He was alone, but it didn’t seem to bother him as he lounged confidently like a king—or a god among men. His eyes roamed over the crowd, sharp and methodical as he scanned the room, until they connected with hers.

At that moment, time stopped for Rebecca as the rest of the room—the party, the revelers, the music—fell away. Her breath halted as he held her stare, transfixed, unable to turn away even if she wanted to. Just like what happened every time she faced him, she got lust-inspired tunnel vision. They had history, and she was brought back to her undergrad days in college. The thing between her and Brett had always been hot, heavy, intense. Since day one of freshman year in college, they’d butted heads, and now they were entangled in a rivalry between their firms—two of the biggest in Las Vegas—and eventually only one would survive.

Rebecca saw Brett’s eyes narrow, and he straightened to full height. His body was still similar to the one she’d known so intimately before as a younger woman, but in the past few years, she was pleased to see that he was even larger, stronger—a more grown version of her old enemy and lover. His broad shoulders and strong back were clad in the fine dark blue material of an immaculately tailored suit. Along with his dark blond hair and blue eyes, he still possessed Adonis-like traits—a strong jaw, straight nose and high cheekbones. But, she noticed, the deep dimples that she remembered at the edges of a youthful, cocky smile were absent these days, seemingly unable to coexist with the cold, hard stare of Brett Collins, the real estate mogul.

His gaze didn’t waver from her, and she returned his stare, matching the intensity, or at least trying to. Brett’s attention was powerful. He might have been compelling in his twenties. But at thirty the man was downright potent.

He smiled at her, looking just as arrogant and smug as ever. The deep breath she took to steady herself shuddered out of her as she exhaled. Even after five years, the pull of him was still as strong as a team of horses.

Everyone moved about them, oblivious to the tension that traveled across the room between her and Brett. Shaking her head, she forced herself to pull it together. Rebecca was a strong, grown woman who had made multimillion-dollar deals and stared down some of the top businessmen and women from Vegas to New York City. If she was going to be living in the same city as Brett, she was bound to run into him again. What could it hurt to talk to her former lover? She had to get it over with, and when she did, she could forget about him and get on with her life. So straightening her posture and flipping her hair behind her shoulders, she strode confidently in the direction of Brett Collins.

* * *

Brett watched Rebecca as she crossed the floor toward him, trying to hide the smile that made the corners of his lips creep upward. She’d come back from New York after five years on the East Coast and had landed squarely back on Brett’s radar. Despite that they had their own long-standing rivalry, he’d been competing with her father, Hiram, in the local real estate industry for years, and the feud had continued when Rebecca took over. They’d been at each other’s throat for months, but this was the first time he’d seen her in person since she’d returned to town, and it was affecting him more than he liked.

He’d spent college neck and neck with her, competing for grades, awards, accolades, top position in the class. By coincidence, they’d earned undergraduate and graduate degrees from the same schools, so that meant that they couldn’t escape one another. And from day one, they had not clicked. He was confident, maybe a bit cocky; she was stubborn and not willing to relent, and neither of them knew what to do with the other. They’d had a frustrating, competitive, downright antagonistic back-and-forth relationship—well, if you would call their enemies with benefits hookups a relationship. They would fight, then fuck, then go back to fighting...for six years.

They’d had major chemistry, and she was still somehow even more infuriatingly sexy than she’d been all those years ago. So maybe he had some memories of the past rumbling below his belt, but there was no reason for his reaction to her now, the pounding in his chest or the way the blood rushed past his ears, heading south, causing a stirring in his dick as she came closer. That was unexpected. He put down his glass and fisted his hands at his sides to hide their shaking, frustrated and unsure if the tremors came from anger or lust.

She moved, almost gliding across the floor in her stiletto heels. The sheen of her black dress caught his attention, reflecting light as it clung to her curves. No doubt, she was still the gorgeous, sexy, glamorous woman she’d always been, but there was something else. She was confident, owning the room, tossing her blond hair behind her shoulders and catching the eyes of men and women as she approached. Outside of sex, they’d never seen eye to eye, no matter how stunning she was or how sexually compatible they’d been. But as she got closer to him with every step, his breaths became shorter and his eyes narrowed further. He tried to act cool, but the line that he could feel forming between his eyebrows betrayed him.

“Hi, Brett,” she said, a smile playing on her red lips. Brett knew people, and while she appeared confident, he wondered if underneath her calm exterior she was trying to rein in her emotions. Just like he was.

“Becca Daniels.” He smirked, calling her the name she’d used when she was younger.

“Rebecca,” she corrected him with a smile.

“Right,” he said, flashing a small smile at her correction. “Sorry. Rebecca Daniels.” He could feel himself becoming rigid, and yet more aroused, as if his body was unsure how to react to her presence. He didn’t know whether he should scream at her, walk away or lift her onto the nearby table and fuck her in the middle of the party. But civility won out and he extended his hand to her for a polite shake. She smiled and took his hand. They shook hands. “It’s been a while since we’ve been in the same room.”

He nodded. “It has been.”

“That hasn’t stopped us from doing business, though.”

“Doing business?” he asked with a snide smile. “Is that what you call what we’ve been doing? Poaching one of my executives? I’ll have you know that the minute I get word he’s violated his nondisclosure agreement, you’ll be hearing from our lawyers.”

“I’ll have you know that none of us want to know your illicit secrets. We aren’t interested. But while we’re on the topic, what about our lumber supplier for our latest development? I believe it now falls under the umbrella of Collins/Fischer. Charging outrageous prices. How many contractors did you leave scrambling with those changes you made?”

Brett snorted. They’d changed the terms only on the DI contract. “I assure you, that was a coincidence,” he lied.

She rolled her eyes, rightfully not believing him. “You just did it because you were pissed that we outbid you on the sale of that factory in Reno. Am I right?”

“I guess we’ll never know.” Brett shrugged. That was the exact event that had started the series of events that had led them to this conversation. He and Alex had been working to acquire an abandoned factory and warehouse in Reno to turn it into a high-end condo development. But at the eleventh hour, Daniels International had swooped in and taken it.

He looked over her shoulder and quickly saw his friends in the middle of their own conversations, but all their eyes were trained on him and his interaction with Rebecca. Ignoring them, Brett gave Rebecca all his attention. He plucked a champagne flute from the tray of a passing waiter and handed it to her. “We can rehash this all night, but let’s talk. How does it feel to be back in town?”

Rebecca sipped from the glass and eyed him suspiciously over the rim. “It was a little strange at first. It was a challenge, but the transition to CEO has been smooth.”

“Seriously, though, I was sorry to hear about your father. He was a good man.”

“Thank you.” She sipped her champagne again, her eyes not breaking contact with his. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had so fully captured his attention. His eyes dropped to her mouth and the drop of champagne that clung to her top lip when she lowered her glass, and he somehow resisted the urge to lean in and sweep it up with his tongue.

Distracted by his desire, Brett barely heard the words she was saying as he looked her up and down. He could see the near-imperceptible changes in her demeanor, like the way she straightened under his scrutiny, the way her pupils dilated slightly as she spoke to him and the way her lips parted as she swiped her tongue over them. He grinned at her. Brett knew women, and Rebecca didn’t have to say the words out loud. Her body language told him everything that he needed to know—she wanted him, too. Maybe as much as he wanted her—to once again bury himself deep inside her, momentarily revisiting the heat and passion they’d experienced before.

He stepped closer to her, touching his fingertips to the swell of her hip before spreading his hand over her, cupping her waist. “You know, I don’t want to talk business. Why don’t we go outside?” he asked, his voice lowered. He tilted his head in the direction of the door leading to the terrace. “We can really catch up.”

She paused for a moment, hesitating, and he thought she would refuse—because, really, what could they possibly have to catch up on? But instead, she nodded. “Sure.”

He slid his hand to her lower back, just above the rise of her ass, and escorted her through the double doors that led to the terrace, and he was pleased and surprised to find that they were alone out there. They walked to a far corner, and she leaned on the concrete railing, looking out at the view afforded by the mayor’s mansion. He stood next to her and leaned on the railing, as well. He turned his head and watched her. Whatever was going on in Rebecca’s mind made her eyebrows furrow. Maybe it matched his own turmoil, but he was confident that he could move past it. But can she?

She was quiet for a moment before she spoke. “I really missed it here.” Her whisper was wistful and vulnerable. And the moment felt more real than any he ever remembered them sharing. Well, most of them. There had been the one or two nights in college when they’d almost hit on something more... He watched her as she looked across the desert to the lights of the city. They both knew the mountains were just on the horizon, completely obscured by the darkness. “New York was nice, bustling, and winter was kind of fun for the first few years. But for a city that claims to never sleep, it doesn’t have quite the same insomnia as Vegas.”

Brett moved closer to her. “Maybe Vegas missed you, too,” he said, looking out at the horizon. “There’s nowhere else in the world like this. Las Vegans can’t expect to just settle anywhere else. There’s something about the desert, the energy, just trying to survive in such a harsh landscape...” He trailed off and she turned her head and looked at him. They were again quiet in the moment they’d created. They were again, for a short time, just kids in their twenties, with their lives ahead of them, constantly at odds with each other but managing to somehow find some moments of levity that bookended hot sex, before they went back to hating each other. Before starting the cycle over again. Rebecca always gave as good as she got and, standing next to her now, Brett realized that no matter what had happened between them or how crazy they made each other, he’d missed that about her.

Rebecca shook her head, breaking them from the moment. “So, what do you want to talk about?” she asked, not looking at him but still facing the darkened horizon, her arms folded in front of her on the stone partition that separated the rest of the mayor’s garden.

“I lied. I don’t really want to talk,” he told her, shifting closer to her, and their arms touched. Through his suit jacket, he could feel her heat.

Her laugh was humorless. “Just perfect.” She shook her head. “I should have known. I didn’t come out here for a quick hookup, you know.”

“Well, if you don’t want to hook up, what is it you want to talk about?”

“I don’t think I’m quite done talking about business.”

Surprise drew Brett’s head back. “Oh, really?”

She faced him full on—not many people stared him down like she was doing. “Yeah, you and I have had some dealings recently.”

“Yeah. Just a bit of fun back and forth.”

“Well, it’s over. Starting right now.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I’m running DI now, and I can tell you that I have a lot on my plate now and zero time for all the dick-measuring power struggles that have been going on between our two companies. I’ve got more important things to concentrate on than you. Let’s just agree to end this now. Let me run my company, and you can run yours.”