1. Chapter 1

1

H is hands grasped her face as he deepened the kiss, his lips demanding. He nudged her lips apart and his tongue thrust in, plundering and possessing. He tasted like scotch and danger.

She belonged to him at that moment. She knew it, and so did he. One of his hands gripped her lower back, locking her hip to his. His other hand cupped the back of her neck, with his thumb stroking her jaw.

All the while, his lips worked hers to total compliance. Her body was all sensations; there was no room for reason or logic.

Heat rising and needing more, she moaned—

The alarm on Ilaria's phone blared its horn sound.

She bolted upright. She was in her bed. In her condo. In Chicago.

Ugh. She swiped at her phone to turn off the alarm, then fell back onto her pillow and flung an arm over her eyes. Even two years later, thinking about that kiss never failed to turn her on. But what happened afterward always made her cringe with shame.

After Soren had ruined kissing for her with every other man, he had laughed in her face. Actually laughed. He said he'd been curious, but no longer was. Then he had ordered her to leave, dismissing her. As if she was suddenly a nuisance.

Ilaria yanked back the covers and stomped to the bathroom. Usually, her home—professionally decorated in white, blue, and gray in modern, clean lines—instilled peace and calm in her. But this was the third time this week the dream had ruined her morning. And she had been looking forward to this Saturday morning because she was meeting her best friends, Noe and Emmy, at The Java Spot.

She brushed her teeth with rough strokes, as if scrubbing at her teeth would also scrub away the memories. Even now, the mocking in his eyes and the derision in his tone still made her blood boil. She was a toy he wanted to possess, and once he knew he could, he tossed her aside, curiosity assuaged.

Ilaria: Running late, sorry. Meet you guys at The Java Spot. No need to wait for me.

Noe and Emmy lived two floors below her in the same building.

Noe: Got it. We'll grab a table. See you in a bit.

Ilaria pulled open her closet door hard enough for the knob to hit the wall with a satisfying bang. Today was perfect for a feeling-good-and-kicking-ass kind of outfit. Whereas normally she might have worn a pair of loose sweatpants, today warranted the high-waist leggings that lifted her butt and the crop top that just barely covered the bottom curve of her breasts. She scrutinized herself in the mirror and grinned.

After the unfortunate encounter with Soren, it would have been easy to wonder what was wrong with her . To look in the mirror and point to a myriad of defects that told her she deserved to be exploited and preyed on, that she deserved his contempt.

And, admittedly, there were a few uncertain moments after the incident that she let herself wonder if something was wrong with her. Mostly, though, she just got angry. Then she would fantasize about her getting the upper hand, turning the tables on him. She would daydream that she gained his trust and then coolly dismissed him like a pesky gnat while he groveled at her feet.

Ilaria painted a brick red gloss on her lips, swept her coffee brown hair into a high ponytail, sent a text that said she was on her way, and breezed out the door. She imagined Soren as a gnat that was crushed against the door.

But he was the heir to the MacGregor family, a snide little voice inside her remarked. The MacGregors were the largest in all of Scotland. Despite whatever revenge fantasies she dreamt up, she wasn't going to avenge her pride. Especially since the two respective heads of the Carosi and MacGregor families—her father, Stefano, and Soren's uncle, Galen—were longtime friends.

No, revenge wasn't in the cards. Only salvaging what remained of her self-respect had been her concern the rest of that weekend in Edinburgh, which meant avoiding Soren as much as possible. Which was entirely successful because he had disappeared from his uncle's mansion thereafter.

And she hadn't seen or heard from him since. That was perfectly fine with her. She didn't pine after men; her pride wouldn't allow it. She had long decided that, like a pesky gnat, she would squash him from her mind. On days she felt particularly good, she could even thank him for helping her realize how na?ve she had been, and that she would now be more circumspect about doling out her trust to anyone.

But as she walked out of her building to The Java Spot, her bravado wavered. All this was well and good, as long as she never saw him again. The only problem was, she was going to see him. Tomorrow, in fact, after she landed in Edinburgh with her parents. Her father was planning to discuss an alliance with the MacGregors and wanted both Ilaria and her mother, Melisande, to come along. After all, both families had been friends for years, and her parents naturally assumed she'd want to see Soren and his three siblings.

She had never dreaded anything more. And, clearly, her subconscious was warning her of danger because this dream had visited her three times in just the last week, which made eliminating him from her mind nearly impossible. Worse, thoughts of his full lips and his blue-gray eyes would pop into her head at the most inopportune times. He wasn't even around and he was intruding in her life.

Ilaria opened the door to The Java Spot and went inside, allowing herself to relax. She had discovered this coffee shop the same day she moved into her condo three years ago, and it immediately became her favorite. It didn't try to adopt any kind of modern or trendy theme. It stayed with the tried and true warm wood panels, ambient lighting, jazz music for background noise, and a massive fireplace that crackled with a real fire in the colder months and dozens of lit candles in the warmer months.

Her best friends had naturally grabbed a table next to the fireplace. She made a beeline to them, ignoring the other patrons' stares as usual. Emmy's green eyes widened with concern when she saw Ilaria. Noe's head of golden brown hair was hidden behind his laptop, but he lifted his head when she pulled out the third chair. His amber brown eyes, which always stunned Ilaria, lit up knowingly when he noticed her outfit and red lips.

He smirked. "You're either trying to impress someone here—" He made a show of scanning the other customers, "—or you're having a shitty morning."

Ilaria sat down with an audible sigh. "The latter, but if you have my coffee, then things are looking up."

Emmy handed her the large latte with an extra shot and a dash of heavy cream. "What's going on, sweetie?"

Noe put up a hand. "We want to hear all about it, but first, both of you, try this espresso triple chocolate chip muffin. It's healthy. It has bran in it."

Ilaria snorted. "And that's why you're in advertising." She tore off a piece, still warm, and stuffed it in her mouth. "Oh, wow."

Emmy closed her eyes, chewing. "Mmm."

Noe looked at her sideways. "Good for you. It'll be a lucky guy who can get that sound out of you in bed, only ten times louder."

"Shh!" Emmy hissed, her cheeks pink. She peeked at the elderly couple sitting at the next table with their coffee and the morning paper.

Ilaria grinned and patted Emmy on the arm. "Don't mind him. He doesn't think it's good sex unless the entire building can hear him."

Noe shrugged. "What can I say? If it's that good, then I want the neighbors to be green with envy."

They all laughed. The elderly couple couldn't suppress their chuckles, which only made Ilaria and her friends laugh harder.

Ilaria met Noe Lin and Emmy Richards as freshmen at the University of Chicago when Ilaria, while moving her things into the dorm, dropped her half-opened makeup bag and spilled its contents onto the sidewalk. Noe and Emmy stopped to help her pick everything up. Emmy grabbed all the tubes before they rolled into the street and then insisted on hauling two other bags upstairs for her. Noe said he was only helping because he was nosy about the products she used. When he saw the lipstick with the cracked cap and half of the stick smeared on the ground—a discontinued shade, no less—he said, "No biggie. When I heard this shade was going to be discontinued, I went and bought the rest of the inventory at the mall. I'll give you one. Maybe two if we become friends."

Ilaria lifted her chin at Noe's laptop. "What are you working on?"

"A client campaign." He turned his laptop screen around to show them the ad he was putting together. She recognized the name of the brand, a huge multinational luxury car brand.

"Noe's nervous about it," Emmy remarked in her mild Southern accent.

He frowned at her. "What makes you say that?"

She rolled her eyes. "I live with you. You've been working on this for weeks. And you've been pacing for weeks."

Ilaria cocked her head as she examined his face. Since college, Noe paced to work off excess energy. "You are nervous. You're hardly ever nervous. Why haven't you said anything?"

Noe leaned back against his chair and sighed. "If this campaign hits the client's goals, I'll get promoted to creative director. I didn't want to jinx it."

Ilaria squeezed his hand, and Emmy slung her arm over his shoulders. "There is not one iota of doubt that you'll get the promotion," Ilaria said.

Emmy nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, yeah." Noe waved his hand dismissively but couldn't hide his smile.

Ilaria knew that the promotion would be the ultimate validation for Noe. His Taiwanese father had been guilting him to return to Taipei to work for the family's IT company for as long as Ilaria had known him. Noe's father also hoped that therapy would "cure" his gay son's sexual preferences. Meanwhile, Noe's British mother, who had divorced his father when he was in high school and moved back to her native country, wanted him to move to London so she could see him more often.

Noe had demanded to go to the U.S. for college to get away from the drama. He had been reluctant but willing to accept his father's money during school, vowing to get a job immediately after he graduated and start making his own way.

And make his own way he did, as he was able to buy a condo in the same luxury building as Ilaria, albeit a bit smaller, and he rented a room to Emmy to help pay for the mortgage. This, and a promotion, meant he could shove off his father's financial grip.

"Well, don't keep us in suspense," Emmy said to Ilaria. "Why are you looking so hot so early on a Saturday?"

"I don't want to go to Edinburgh," said Ilaria, answering Emmy's question in a roundabout way. She took another sip from her cup. "I had the same dream again," she amended.

"The one with Soren?" Emmy asked in a low voice.

Noe looked sly. "You must really be looking forward to seeing him."

"Yeah, so I can feel the utter humiliation wash all over me again," Ilaria retorted. "This time, it'll be even worse because he'll know that I still haven't gotten over it. Even though it's been two years ." She slammed down her cup and some of the coffee sloshed out of the opening.

Emmy looked at her with sympathy. "Maybe it won't be as bad as you think. Maybe he'll be nicer…" She trailed off with Ilaria's dour look.

Ilaria squeezed her hand. "I love you, Emmy. I love how you always give people the benefit of the doubt. Even when they don't deserve it."

Emmy grew up in a working-class neighborhood in Georgia with a father who was mostly absent and a mother who worked three jobs to support the two of them. Her mother passed away from cancer in their sophomore year in college. Despite all that, Emmy was the most gracious, forgiving, and empathetic person Ilaria knew. She and Noe waited for the day when Emmy would call a shitty situation exactly for what it was.

"Okay, how about this," Emmy continued. "You're probably underestimating yourself. I'm sure you'll be able to stroll in there like the badass you are and not give him the time of day."

Ilaria also loved how Emmy's southern charm could still be laced with steely persistence. "I wish I had the same optimism you do."

Noe's lip curled up on one side. "Emmy said ‘badass.'"

She rolled her eyes. "I have faith in our girl."

"I don't have the same faith," Ilaria sighed. "Maybe I should make up an excuse." Her eyes brightened. "This one might work: I have a date."

Noe's eyes narrowed. "I've never known you to be a coward."

"Ouch." Ilaria winced.

"Let me rephrase that." He put his hands up. "You're the last person who would let anyone—especially a man—affect your life to this degree."

"I know," she said. "And that's why I need to let go of this anger for good, so he's out of my system." She shifted in her chair. "But I can't let it go if he's right in front of me."

He sighed. "You're right." He slid the rest of the muffin toward her as an apology. "We'll back you up no matter what you tell your parents."

Emmy nodded.

Ilaria immediately felt lighter with her friends' support and at the prospect of getting out of the trip. She stuffed another bite of the chocolate muffin in her mouth. "The flight is tonight. I need a believable excuse that my parents can't talk me out of."

"You got food poisoning," Emmy piped up with a suggestion.

"You're sick as a dog," Noe added, playing along.

"You can barely get out of bed, other than to crawl to the bathroom and throw up…"

"But you don't want your parents to miss this important trip, so they should just go ahead without you..."

"And your best friends, Noe and Emmy, are here, nursing you back to health!" Emmy finished with a flourish.

"Yes!" Ilaria clapped her hands together. "That's perfect. Now when should I text my mom? I don't want her to come check on me."

"An hour before you're all supposed to leave for the airport," Emmy declared. "Just enough notice for your parents to accept that you're not going, but not enough time for them to come see you."

"Damn, girl, you're devious!" Noe crowed.

Emmy gave them a sidelong grin. "I got my ways."

"Now, if you could turn your devious ways to erase this asshole from my mind." Ilaria grimaced.

Noe looked at her thoughtfully. "You know, I bet he's not even the problem. Your dream is about kissing, which is a precursor to hot sex, and that's what you're focused on. And I know the best cure for that." He waggled his eyebrows.

"What, find a hot guy and have some hot sex?"

"Exactly," he said. "So let's go out tonight. I'm declaring tonight to be Operation: Hot Sex. And if we find you someone—and I have complete faith in us—by tomorrow you'll be saying ‘Soren who?'"

Ilaria laughed. "You're on."

***

Ilaria: Mom, I have food poisoning. I've been throwing up all day and feel awful. I don't think I can go on the trip.

Ilaria: You and Dad should go without me.

Mom: Oh no! Honey, are you sure it's food poisoning? What did you eat yesterday?

Ilaria: Sushi.

Mom: That's terrible! But I can't leave you here by yourself. Dad can go by himself.

Ilaria: No, Mom, you need to go too. This is important to him. Noe and Emmy are here, and they're making me chicken soup.

Mom: Are you sure? I really don't mind staying. Dad says it's fine.

Ilaria: Go on the trip, Mom. It's been two years since you last went back home. I'll be good in a few days. Text me when you land. I'm sure I'll be better by then.

Mom: Okay, sweetie, feel better. Get a lot of rest. We love you.

Ilaria: Love you guys too.