Rulers of Deception (5 page)

When she shut the door, she saw a glint of sunlight flash off the lens of a camera, but didn’t think anything of it. Instead she followed Kennedy inside, forgetting it entirely in light of her sister-in-law’s new crush.

As the sun
fell behind the western skyline, Madison folded Cyrus’ list and tucked it inside the envelope it came in. At last, everything was in motion. The list was complete. Though some of the tasks would take years to implement, the seeds were planted and ready to grow.

With Linc’s help, the remarketing campaign was well underway and already proving to be a big success. Grant had overseen fundamental changes with their luxury line of hotels, ensuring that both appearance and functionality were up to the standards set by Cyrus decades earlier.

She’d been busy trimming the fat off the family bone and paying off her relatives who couldn’t give a damn about how the hotels were run. She’d also spent the last year working closely with McAllister and helping convert his hotels into the Vasser brand. It was a merger well matched, and she enjoyed his friendship as well as his insight. He profited off the additional revenue that came with the Vasser name, and she benefited from his years of experience as the CEO of a mid-range hotel chain.

At last, the Vasser Legacy was secure. That and the pride she felt at knowing her grandfather would be pleased was enough to have her happy dancing and popping champagne bottles inside her head.

“You did well, Mads.” Grant came up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“I did, didn’t I?” She turned away from the conference room window to face him, eyes lit with pleasure. “Though I couldn’t have done this without you. I hope you know that.”

His head dipped in an appreciative nod, and she took a moment to admire his resemblance to both her and the grandfather they had shared and loved. The rich, dark brown hair, trim and neat and always impeccably styled. Tawny brown eyes, though his were shades darker and more direct than her own.

He’d lost the shadows that used to hide under those eyes, signs of the stress and weight he once carried on his back. The year since the scandals nearly destroyed their family had been good to him, both professionally and personally.

It was as much the success of the family business as it was his wife’s smile that saved him. And, perhaps, saved Madison as well. She’d gained not only a sister-in-law, but also a valued friend.

“We’ve come so far.” She walked to the expansive conference table, lifting one of the file folders her brother had brought in. The knee-length scarlet dress-suit she wore shifted against her skin as she tossed back her sable waves of hair. “These numbers are impressive.”

“It seems the smear on our name is fading. People have begun to trust the Vasser brand again.” There was pride in his voice coupled with an ounce of hesitation. Grant was never one to count eggs before they’d hatched.

“As they should.” She reached for another folder, this one a detailed report on the progress with the McAllister merger. “We’re just days away from beginning construction on another mid-range Vasser hotel. That’s the third one this year.”

“Things are moving along quickly.” Grant came up beside her and thumbed through a short stack of papers. When he found the one he wanted, he handed it to her. “These are the reservation numbers for the two hotels we’ve opened so far.”

She reviewed the stats, the charts he’d created and the graphs showing comparisons to their luxury hotel stats from previous years. “Incredible.”

Grant smiled as they met eyes. “I agree.”

“We’re fortunate that Reed McAllister signed on for all this, though he’s certainly profiting from it.”

“He’s a good man.”

She nodded. “He is. We’re going to have to meet with him in a few days, once Linc gets back from his honeymoon. Last we talked, Reed mentioned he wanted us to meet his son.”

“It’s a family business, just like ours.” Grant glanced at his watch, then began gathering up the paperwork and files. “I have to get home. Quinn’s cooking tonight.”

Madison rolled her eyes, though the move was affectionate. “When is she
not
cooking something?”

He shot her an amused look. “She loves it.”

“Almost as much as she loves you.”

“Almost,” he agreed, tucking the folders under one arm. “Goodnight.”

As he turned to leave, Wyatt wandered in, looking casual and relaxed. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his well-worn jeans, his black fedora perched carelessly atop his bronzed hair.

The two men met eyes—and grinned.

“Even with that gorgeous wife at home the man still works weekends.” Wyatt shook his head, reaching out to slap Grant on the shoulder.

Grant’s brows lifted. “Coming from the man whose wife works weekends.”

Wyatt blinked, then let out a laugh. “You’re right, I should put my foot down about that.”

“Good luck. We both know it’s a losing battle,” Grant mused, sending one last look at Madison before slipping from the room.

Wyatt casually kicked the door closed behind him. When he faced Madison, he spotted the envelope in her hands. He’d know it anywhere. “Everything okay?”

Madison’s lips curved. “Never been better. The list is underway. My grandfather’s legacy is secure.”

“Good.” He took a moment to absorb the sparks of energy radiating off of her, the fierce pride she felt coupled with the satisfaction of a job well done. It was a look she wore a lot more often these days. “Did I ever tell you how gorgeous that winner’s grin is on you, sweetheart?”

One of her eyebrows slid up. “I like winning.”

“I know you do.” He pushed her up against the conference table, his hands roaming up her arms and into her hair as his mouth found hers. Found home. With a quick, expert movement, he lifted her hips and slid her onto the table’s surface, enjoying the way she nipped at his lower lip and practically purred against him.

“How’s your boat coming along?” she asked breathily, her nails digging into his back as he began unbuttoning her suit jacket.

“I finished it. It’s fucking beautiful.” He tore aside the fabric and bit the soft, ivory curve of her shoulder, aroused by the quick gasp that flew from her throat.

“So we’re both winners today,” she panted, slipping off his hat to grasp his length of bronzed hair tightly in her hands.

His eyes of molten steel met hers, teeth flashing in a sharp smile. “Damn right we are. I’ll take you out to Manhasset Bay so you can see it. Maybe you can even convince me to name it after you.”

She let her hands fall to cradle his face, filled with a fierce delight that he was hers. The ruggedly handsome blackjack dealer who’d stolen her heart that first night in Vegas had returned to swallow her whole once again. Though she’d resisted before, now she knew there was no other way.

He was made for her, and she was made to love him.

“Take me home, darling. I want to celebrate.”

L
inc could almost hear the imaginary crowd roaring as he leapt into the air and sank the basketball straight through the net. He landed on the cement with a thud and bent his knees to absorb the blow, his face lit with triumph.

“You may be tall as a giant but you just ain’t got my moves,” Linc huffed as he faced his friend, wiping at the sweat that dripped from his face.

Greg shook his head, out of breath. Strands of his sandy blond hair fell over his eyes. “You say that every time you make one, and then when I do you call it luck.”

“With the way you stumble around the court, it
is
luck every time you make it.” Linc ducked as the ball flew at his face and bounced cheerfully into the fence.

“You’re lucky I don’t step on you.” Greg laughed, stretching his arms behind his back. “Besides, the ladies like a tall man. I don’t know what your wife sees in you. You’re short with an ego the size of Africa and you smell.”

Linc frowned. “I don’t smell.”

“Dude, I’ve caught a whiff of your gym bag. You definitely stink.”

“That just means I work for it. This sexy body doesn’t come out of nothing.” Linc winked and trotted over to retrieve the ball.

Greg snorted. “Sexy, sure. Is that what you tell yourself at night before you cry yourself to sleep?”

“It’s what my wife tells me before she doesn’t let me get any sleep.” Linc wiggled his eyebrows before tossing the ball once again at the basket. It flew in effortlessly and had him fist-pumping the air. “You’ll understand when you can settle on a woman for longer than a weekend.”

The ball bounced in Greg’s direction. He caught it and aimed at the hoop. It hit the backboard before it fell in. “I’ll have you know that I did meet someone.”

“No shit?” Linc grabbed the ball and turned. “When did this happen?”

“While you were out of town.” Greg shrugged. “I met her at Lucille’s.”

“The bar where we used to pick up chicks back in college?”

“I found my way over there about a week ago. Then she found her way over to me.”

Linc laughed. “Well, damn. If I know your picky taste she’s gotta be a ten.”

“An eleven,” Greg corrected, looking smug. “Smart, too. Ambitious. I’ve never had someone actually care so much about what I say before. She
listens
, and speaks her mind.”

“Sounds like a real catch.” Linc dribbled the ball, his eyes still on his friend.

“I’m caught, that’s for sure.” Greg laughed as he stole the ball from Linc’s grasp and dribbled it over to make a jump shot. The ball sank through the net with a whoosh. “There, we’re even now.”

“So when do I get to meet this new ambitious listener of yours?” Linc asked, stealing the ball back and attempting to dodge Greg as he blocked his path to the hoop.

“Eventually. Once she realizes she’s in love with me.” Greg jumped up to block Linc’s shot, the ball grazing his fingertips as it sailed into the basket. “Goddamnit.”

Linc let out a cheer and clapped his hands together. He faced his friend with a mile-wide grin and patted him on the back. “Keep me posted. I know Lynette’s dying to have another couple to hang out with. God knows why.”

“Women.” Greg shook his head, chuckling.

Linc’s cell phone went off, the sound of Elton John’s “Daniel” floating from his pocket. He fished it out and answered without looking at the caller-ID. “Sorry boss, I didn’t mean to go over my lunch break. Please don’t fire me; the wife’ll have my head.”

“
We can’t have that
.” Grant’s voice held a hint of sarcasm. The rest was all business. “
A writer for
Vesta
magazine called. She wants to meet with us. I told her you would handle it
.”

“Oh yeah? Why didn’t you just brush her off? I thought we weren’t doing the media thing right now.”

“
It’s Veronica Diaz
.”

“Shit.” Linc grunted and ran a hand through his hair. “She’s big time. What’s she doing bothering us?”

“
I suppose that means we’re big time, too
.” Grant replied dryly. “
Just find out what she’s looking for. And don’t forget we have that meeting with McAllister in an hour.
”