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Prologue
Ella
Sleek and majestic, he rears up. He stretches, straightening, tall and broad, out of the back of the long limousine. He rises, his eyes flash and scan as he sniffs the air.
He faces the shining black monolith. It reaches almost into the clouds. A challenge to his power.
Strong. Dangerous. He rises, the king of his pride, the alpha. The top predator. The man who will take what he wants the moment he sees it.
It’s the start of something for my writing workshop. But he’s not fiction. I saw him just now at the entrance foyer as I was coming into the building.
Tapping that snippet into my phone as the freight elevator rattles me up the high building to start my shift, I shudder inside at the end.
I remember how his eyes stopped on mine.
He made something fizz inside me.
Chapter One
Ram
Adam will do anything to put me off my training. Quoting from today’s business pages, he announces,
“‘Ram Steed is what every woman wants’.”
After all the years we’ve been friends, he still competes with me over anything and everything. And he can’t ever beat me. I’m too strong, too smart and too fast, so any time he can, he’ll distract me or put me off or just get a needle under my skin.
His competitive urges, I understand. I push myself harder on the running track, trying to leave him behind. He speeds up, making me push harder.
Then he puts on a big voice, like a caricature of a news anchor, “What every woman wants. What every man wants to be.”
Our breath steams in the misty, early morning air. “Do you want to be me, Adam?”
He laughs.
“You know that I’m quoting from the premier journal of the business community.”
I shake my head. Two and a half kilometers left to go before breakfast. Checking my watch, I see that he has pushed my pulse rate up a couple of beats. I slow my breathing and relax into my running cadence.
The triathlon we’re training for is for charity. We’ll raise money for a children’s rescue and outreach venture. The project is close to my heart, and Adam’s. We’re competing with a dozen Olympic athletes, though, and I’m determined to put in a good performance.
Irritation gets the better of me on the last lap. “I only gave them the interview so they would write about the product and the launch. What is the point of all that bullcrap?”
“Media loves a hero, Ram.” The finish line is in sight. We run side by side. Adam slacks his pace a little. I know he’s lulling me into a false sense of security. I relax and wait for him to put on his late spurt.
I know he’ll try to goad me one more time. He’ll have a punchline ready. I’m waiting.
“They build ’em up,” here it comes, “so they can knock ’em down.” I’ve conserved my energy. I wait till I feel the sting of extra adrenaline.
My last dash starts later than his. But I’m stronger and I’m faster. And I’m psyched and wound up to win.
As I cross the line, I leave him a good ten feet behind.
We patter to a stop about six or seven paces past the line. Adam leans forward, breathing hard with his hands on his thighs. “You should learn to take a compliment, Ram.” I smile, watching him gasp.
The billionaire president and fifty-one percent owner of one of the world’s top-ten tech companies, and he’ll still try trickery to get across the line ahead of me. He has more money than me. Not much more, it’s true, and he doesn’t know that’s all about to change with some acquisitions I have on the way.
“You, my friend,” he pants, “are definitely in need of some love in your life.”
