Wicked & Willing. Leslie Kelly

the absence of the warm, tender concern that had been in his eyes just minutes before.

      “Generous?” she asked, hearing the breathiness in her voice.

      “I wonder what your motives were in coming to Atlanta,” he said softly, as if merely speculating aloud. “They didn’t have anything to do with money, did they?”

      Money? He thought she’d come here to try to scam money off the old man? She was about to tell him to take a flying leap off the balcony when she remembered she had been paid—and paid well—to take this trip. She swallowed her angry words and lowered her eyes, her whole body stiffening as she acknowledged the partial truth of his accusation. He made a sound that could have been a sigh, then stepped away from her.

      “Mr. Longotti,” she said, turning her back on the annoyingly handsome man who suddenly had such a low opinion of her, “I’m being straight with you here. I don’t think I’m who your nephew says I am. I don’t even know if I want to be, if you can dig that.” She shot a look over her shoulder at Troy, who still watched with suspicion and distrust. “But I am willing to talk to you about it some more. And, perhaps, to consider a test if we both decide it’s what we want.”

      The elderly gentleman blinked, then stared at her, his gaze looking sharper and more direct. He seemed to be looking for something in her eyes, a gauge of her honesty, perhaps? Or some reminder of the son he’d lost? Finally he nodded. “Agreed.”

      “Yes, excellent. These things do take time,” Leo murmured, holding his elderly uncle by the arm. “Uncle Max, you look very pale. Perhaps we should go now?”

      “I’m fine,” he snapped. “I want to visit with my…with Ms. Messina here.”

      “But your doctor’s appointment,” Leo continued. “You said you were supposed to see the doctor this afternoon.”

      “Oh, yes,” he murmured. “I’d forgotten. That’s what I was planning to do until you almost shocked me into a heart attack with this news.” Max frowned at his nephew. “I can reschedule. I want to get her settled in at home.”

      “I can take Ms. Messina over,” Troy interjected. “Max, you go keep your appointment, then head home and meet us there. I think it might be good for everyone to have a little while alone before any further conversation, don’t you?”

      He shot Venus a look daring her to disagree. Not that she would. She wanted to be alone, to reconsider just what she’d gotten herself into here. Things suddenly didn’t seem as simple as they had this morning, when she’d thought she’d take advantage of a paid vacation in the south.

      More than ever, she thought Leo Gallagher was up to no good. It looked like he planned to use her for whatever it was he wanted. The way he’d presented her to his uncle—so unlike how they’d agreed—was a clear indication he couldn’t be trusted.

      For the first time in ages—probably since she’d first been taken into custody by the state, been told that her mother’s distant family didn’t want her and that she had to go to a foster home—Venus began to feel very alone. In Baltimore, at least, she had friends—Lacey, Uncle Joe and many others. She was completely comfortable in her world, even if that world consisted only of her apartment, her cat and Flanagan’s. There were a dozen people there she could call if she needed help…or just a sympathetic ear.

      Here, though, she had only three men, three near strangers. Leo, who apparently wanted to use her. Max, who likely wanted her to be someone she was not. And Troy, a man she was incredibly attracted to, but couldn’t have. A man whose kiss had made every thought flee her brain and made her body willing to do absolutely anything so long as he kept touching her. A man who, at this moment, wasn’t too impressed with her.

      That knowledge, more than anything, made her stomach knot and her body tense. She had a sinking feeling Troy was going to be the most difficult situation of all.

      TROY WAS GLAD to get Max Longotti and his undoubtedly scheming nephew out the door. He wanted to be alone with Ms. Venus Messina, or whatever her name was. He had a few things to say to her. A few things to get straight.

      The woman was easy to read, almost an open book. She wore her feelings on her face, and was obviously ruled by her emotions, as many passionate people were. As an observer, a thinker, Troy had long ago learned to pay attention to other people’s expressions and body language. He gauged reactions of others before deciding on his own actions.

      Hers—when he’d confronted her about the issue of money—had been damning. Troy couldn’t shake the strong feeling of disappointment he’d felt when he’d seen a flash of guilt in her eyes. She hadn’t been able to meet his stare for more than ten seconds. Her shoulders had stiffened and her lush bottom lip had disappeared as she sucked it into her mouth in dismay.

      Yes, money definitely had something to do with Venus being in Atlanta.

      And no matter how much he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her again, he knew he couldn’t do it. Maybe the old Troy wouldn’t have given a damn if he’d gone to bed with a thief or a liar. This Troy did. As much as he wanted her—really wanted her—he wasn’t going anywhere near the redhead until he figured out what the hell she was up to.

      Troy remained silent as they exited the building. Good manners dictated that he hold the door for her, and the sight of her folding her long legs into his low-slung sports car hit him in the gut with the intensity of a punch. Five more minutes on that balcony and he might have felt those legs wrapped around him.

      Enough. More than likely, the woman was a con artist. Or else she was Max Longotti’s grandchild. Either way, she was off-limits. If she was Max’s granddaughter, having a hot affair with her would likely ruin his relationship with his new boss.

      If she was up to no good with Max’s nephew, they could hurt the old man, whom Troy had grown to care about. Max reminded him of his own grandmother, Sophie, whose strict, controlled exterior hid someone fiercely loyal to family. Unlike Sophie, Max had no close family. With the exception of Leo, a few assorted cousins, and now this mysterious redhead, he had no one.

      Given Leo’s attitude since Troy’s arrival in Atlanta, any plan would probably also involve the company. Meaning it involved Troy directly. He liked Longotti Lines and saw tremendous potential for a merger or an outright sale to his family.

      Troy had been paying careful attention to a major merger that had taken place last year between a national retail chain and a popular outfitter catalog company. This current deal could have the same result, each firm benefiting by tapping into the other’s strengths. Longotti Lines was known for its southern-themed products for the tasteful home, but had all the standard problems with distribution and marketing as any mail-order business. Langtree’s was quickly becoming renowned as an upper-crust department store in south Florida, but wasn’t as far-reaching as it should be due to its geographic limitations.

      A merger could be a perfect marriage. It could also be the perfect opportunity for Troy to bring something new and fresh to the Langtree family business. Since his father had returned to manage the stores, Troy wanted something of his own, something to take on and make successful. It wasn’t that anybody in his family expected him to prove anything to them, and he didn’t feel the need to. This was more a matter of proving something to himself.

      He wanted this catalog acquisition to happen. And he wanted to make it a triumphant success for both companies. Because if he didn’t, he honestly didn’t know what he would do with his career.

      After pulling out of the parking lot of the office building, he kept his eyes on the road, not on the sexy legs of the woman in the passenger seat. He had no intention of getting into an argument with her here in the close confines of his car. Hell, just the warm smell of her musky cologne was enough of a distraction—he didn’t want to kill them both in a wreck. They would have time to talk when they got back to Max’s estate up in Buckhead.

      She, apparently, had no such reservations. “You’ve got a fat lot of nerve, mister,” she snapped.

      He