One Night To Forever. Joss Wood

politely thanked Linc Ballantyne when he took her vintage coat and draped it over the back of a chaise longue chair to the right of the wood and stained glass front door. Lachlyn hoped that he didn’t notice the coat’s frayed pocket or missing button.

      Lachlyn folded her arms across her plain white long-sleeved top and resisted the urge to wipe her damp hands on her black skinny jeans. As the newly discovered, illegitimate daughter of Connor Ballantyne, who’d been jeweler to the world’s richest and most powerful people and a Manhattan legend, she had a right to feel intimidated. Connor might have passed years ago but his children were as influential and celebrated as their late father.

      Lachlyn darted a glance at the portrait of Connor situated on the wall directly opposite the grand staircase. She’d inherited Connor’s blue eyes, bright blond hair, that straight, fine nose. She had her mom’s tiny build and wide, full mouth but the rest of her was, dammit, pure Ballantyne.

      “Thanks for coming over, Lachlyn. Let’s go down to the family room,” Linc suggested and gestured her to follow him, but before they could move, the doorbell rang.

      Linc sent her an apologetic look. “Sorry, that’s my son’s babysitter.” Retracing his steps, he placed his hand on the carved newel post and called up the stairs. “Shaw? Reame is here.”

      Linc flipped open the lock to the front door and Lachlyn watched a very tall man step into the hallway to immediately dominate the space. Now, that was a hell of a babysitter, Lachlyn thought. While Linc and the sexy stranger did that half handshake, half hug men did, Lachlyn made a bullet list of the sexy stranger’s attributes: caramel-colored hair, tanned olive skin, golden scruff on his jaw. Wide shoulders, narrow hips and a fairly spectacular ass...

      She wasn’t one to normally notice men’s butts, so this was new. His eyes—a clear, light green—touched her face and she felt like she was all woman, utterly desirable. Lachlyn searched for air, found none and decided breathing didn’t matter if she had him to look at. She felt alive, sexy, in tune and in touch with every spark of femininity she possessed. He oozed confidence and capability and God, he made her feel alive.

      So this was that thing they called sexual attraction. Hot, pulsing, making her ache with a need to touch and be touched. He looked like a modern-day Sir Galahad, the original white knight: strong, capable, decisive and sexy enough to turn medieval and modern-day female heads.

      He wasn’t her type, though. In order to have a type, you had to be interested in dating, men and relationships.

      Hearing a yell from above their heads, Lachlyn dragged her eyes from his muscled thighs—what were her eyes doing down there?—and looked up to watch a young boy dash down the stairs. From five steps up, the child threw himself into the air and Lachlyn released a terrified gasp, convinced that his small body would make contact with the floor. She stumbled forward but before she could make any progress, the tall man caught the child and tucked him under his arm like a football.

      Lachlyn placed her hand on her heart and closed her eyes. Holy crap, she’d thought the kid was going to end up splattered all over the wooden floor.

      “You’ve got to stop doing that, Shaw,” Linc stated, not looking or sounding worried. In fact, of the three of them, she seemed to be the only one who was remotely concerned about blood, broken bones or stitches.

      Linc gestured to Lachlyn. “Reame, meet Lachlyn Latimore. Lachlyn, Reame Jepsen is my oldest friend. And he’s holding my son, Shaw.”

      The man dropped Shaw to his feet and their eyes collided. Whoosh—there went the air in the room. Again.

      “Ms. Latimore.”

      His voice was deep and held just a hint of gravel, a touch of rasp. Lachlyn wanted to know what his words felt like as they hit her bare skin... He held out a hand and she could easily imagine it gliding over her hip, cupping her breast. Lachlyn felt lava flow into her cheeks and ignored his broad, masculine hand. She didn’t trust herself to touch him. She wasn’t going to risk spontaneously combusting and setting Linc’s hallway alight.

      “Hi,” she muttered, looking down at her shoes.

      “Hi back.” Yeah, she heard the amusement in his words. Lachlyn forced her eyes up and...yep, she caught his quick smirk. Reame Jepsen liked the effect he had on women and wasn’t even a tiny bit surprised by her ridiculous reaction. Usually that smirk would be a total turn-off but instead of being repulsed, she found his self-confidence attractive. Even alluring.

      Oh, man. Not good. In fact, very, very bad.

      “Unca Reame!”

      Reame’s eyes left her face—thank God, she felt pinned to the floor—to look down at Shaw, who was hanging on to his bulging-with-muscles arm. Oh, stop it, Lachlyn! Shaw monkey-climbed up the side of Reame’s body, eventually settling on Reame’s hip. Lachlyn watched as Shaw lifted his top lip to show Reame a bloody gap in his mouth.

      “I losth my tooth,” Shaw lisped.

      “I see that,” Reame replied. “You look gross.”

      Shaw grinned before scowling. “The tooth fairy forgot to come.”

      Standing behind Shaw, Linc grimaced and rolled his eyes. Lachlyn might not know a lot about kids but it was obvious that someone forgot to leave cash under Shaw’s pillow. “Bummer. The tooth fairy who services this area must be a bit of a slacker,” Reame said, managing to keep his face straight.

      “Mom said it’s because I didn’t pick up my toys and that the tooth fairy is probably a girl and girl fairies don’t like messy rooms,” Shaw said, looking disgusted.

      “Maybe that’s it.”

      There was nothing sexier than watching a handsome man interacting with a cute kid, Lachlyn decided. They could easily be part of a TV commercial and would sell the advertised product by the caseload.

      “Try again tonight, bud,” Reame suggested and Lachlyn’s lips quirked at the don’t you dare forget look he sent Linc.

      “Can we go already?” Shaw whined, tugging on Reame’s arm.

      Reame nodded and Lachlyn saw the smile he directed at the young boy. It was open and affectionate and ten times more powerful than his earlier smirk. It was obvious that he enjoyed Linc’s son and Linc seemed fully comfortable in handing Shaw into his care. Since everyone in the city knew that Linc was a devoted and protective father, he had to have complete faith that Reame would keep Shaw safe. That was, Lachlyn realized, a hell of an endorsement. Jepsen might look like a sports model but Linc trusted him with his son so that meant he had to have some skills.

      Lachlyn listened as Linc and his friend confirmed arrangements for dropping Shaw off and within thirty seconds, the gorgeous man and the gregarious boy were gone and she was alone with Linc.

      She wanted to know who Reame was and how he fit into Linc’s life. So, strangely for her, she asked.

      “I’ve known him all my life. We lived in the same neighborhood as young kids,” Linc replied. “My mom got the job as Connor’s housekeeper and we moved into this house but, despite living totally different lives on opposite sides of the city, Reame and I remained friends.”

      She shouldn’t ask anything more, but no man had ever affected her the way Reame had and, well, she was curious. “Does he work for you, at Ballantyne International?”

      “God, no, we’d kill each other.” Linc shook his head, seemingly at ease with her questions. “Reame owns a security consulting company. He was in the military, in one of those hush-hush units that did hush-hush things. He has a hell of a military record, including some hefty commendations for bravery. For a couple of years, I didn’t see or hear from him for months at a time. That’s the life these Special Forces guys lived. Then...” Linc hesitated and Lachlyn gave him a sharp look. He wasn’t going to stop talking now, was he?

      “Then?” Lachlyn prompted, accompanying the question with a mental slap.

      “He had a crisis in