Page 63 of Just a Little Tempted

Fourth call. Fourth time straight to voicemail.

I braced my hands against the windowsill and forced myself to breathe. Count backward from ten. Bury the panic clawing at my chest before I had to face Alexander again.

Where the hell are you, Raina?

It was nearly noon, an hour past our scheduled meeting time with Alexander and two hours since she should have delivered the contract. I’d sent a dozen texts, each one more urgent than the last. No response. No explanation. Nothing but silence from the woman I’d trusted with something this important.

The woman I’d trusted witheverything.

Behind me, I could hear Alexander shifting in his chair, and the soft tap of his fingers against the polished conference table. He’d been patient at first. Understanding even, when I’d explained that my assistant was running late with the documents. But that patience had eroded steadily over the past hour, replaced by something that looked uncomfortably like doubt.

I didn’t blame him. If our positions were reversed, I’d be questioning this partnership too. If a potential business partner couldn’t even ensure the most critical meeting of all went smoothly—the final signing, the moment that was supposed to cement everything—what did that say about how they’d handle the challenges down the road?

How did I let this happen?

The question burned through me, bitter and familiar. Because Iknewbetter. I’d learned this lesson before—learned it the hard way, more than once—and still I’d let my guard down.

Chuck had been the first, someone I’d trusted implicitly. We’d built that athletic wear company together from nothing, only for Kurt and me to discover he’d been cutting corners behind our backs, all to pad the profit margins without telling us. By the time we found out, the damage to the business was done.

I’d sworn I’d never trust anyone that blindly again.

Then came Carla. My first assistant when Liam and I launched Powers Investment Group. She’d seemed competent, reliable, until she fumbled a critical deal in our first year and nearly torpedoed our reputation before we’d even established one. The fallout had taken months to repair, and I’d had to work twice as hard to rebuild the trust we’d lost.

After that, I’d built walls. Kept people at arm’s length professionally. Verified everything myself and trusted no one with anything that truly mattered.

Until Raina.

She’d slipped past my defenses so gradually I hadn’t even noticed it happening. Her competence, her warmth, the way she anticipated my needs before I voiced them. She’d made me believe I could rely on someone again. Made mewantto rely on her.

And now this.

Just last night, she’d assured me everything was handled. The contract would be printed and delivered to Alexander’s office by ten, ready for his review and signatures. I could have sent a backup copy to Alexander’s assistant. I could have printed one myself and brought it from my meeting at GalvaTech this morning. But I hadn’t thought it necessary. I’d thought I could count on her.

Fool.The word echoed in my head, harsh and damning. I’d let my feelings for her cloud my judgment, let the personal bleed into the professional in exactly the way I’d always warned myself against. And now I was standing here, empty-handed and humiliated, while a deal I’d spent weeks cultivating slipped through my fingers.

Was this deliberate? The thought surfaced before I could stop it, ugly and unwelcome. But once it took root, I couldn’t shake it loose.

Raina and Chuck, standing in that hallway at Neptune’s Kingdom. Their conversation cutting off the moment I appeared. The way she’d brushed off my questions, called it nothing important.

What if ithadn’tbeen nothing?

Chuck had made it clear he wanted Alexander’s business. He’d been circling this deal like a vulture, looking for any opportunity to swoop in. And Raina… Raina had been positioned perfectly to sabotage everything. She had access to the contracts, knew the timeline, understood exactly how important today was.

No. I shook my head, trying to dislodge the suspicion.Raina wouldn’t do that to me. She’s not like Chuck. She’s not like Carla.

But the doubt had already taken hold, feeding on my fear and frustration. Because the alternative—that she’d simply forgotten, that something had come up, that there was areasonable explanation—required me to trust her. And right now, trust felt like a luxury I couldn’t afford.

I was a man who controlled every aspect of his life—his business, his environment. I’d built my success on preparation, contingency plans, and never leaving anything to chance. And this situation—Raina unreachable, the contract missing, Alexander’s faith in me visibly wavering—was so far outside my control that it made my skin crawl.

I hated this feeling. Hated the helplessness of it, the vulnerability. Hated that I’d let myself end up hereagain.

Forcing my expression into something resembling calm, I turned back to face the conference room. Alexander sat at the head of the table, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. He’d pushed back from the table slightly, arms crossed over his chest, the body language of a man who was no longer fully invested in this meeting.

“Any luck reaching her?” he asked. His tone was mild, but I caught the undercurrent of impatience.

A fresh wave of humiliation washed over me. I shook my head, the words tasting like ash when I spoke. “I’m so sorry about this, Alexander. I’m sure she’s on her way.” I attempted a smile that felt more like a grimace. “She must have run into traffic.”

Even as I said it, I knew how hollow it sounded. Traffic didn’t explain unanswered calls. Traffic didn’t explain radio silence for over two hours.