Chapter 2

Callum’s POV

There’s a keycard stuck outside my suite door. The door is wide open and someone is inside.

At first, annoyance flashed through me. I immediately thought of Matthew and his stupid pranks. I’m sure he’s sent some girl to my room, his version of “looking out for me.”

I need to get my spare keycard back.

Fuck, I’m exhausted. I’ve had enough of charity galas to last me ten fucking lifetimes. Again, I have Matthew to blame. What’s the point of attending these things? One phone call and my donation is handled. The last thing I want is putting my face out in public with the line of not very legal businesses I own.

Why on earth do they need me to show up?

I walked into my room and the first thing that caught my attention was the dainty pair of heels on the floor. I’m not an expert on female fashion, but these heels look like they cost a pretty penny. I picked them up and placed them to the side.

About to step back, I noticed they weren’t aligned. And is that a purse? Oh my goodness. This is the last shit I want to deal with today.

I’m going to strangle Matthew. After I deal with this girl.

And speaking of girls, there she is. Shamelessly in my bed. Goodness. How fucking original. Will they ever learn a new tactic? What makes them think sprawled out in a man’s bed is seductive?

Annoyed, and fully ready to kick her out, I made my way to the bedside.

My jaw tightened.

I’d expected to see her spread out with nothing underneath, batting long lashes at me, saying some conjured-up shit about me being pent up. Instead, she’s asleep?

What the actual fuck?

I was ready to bark at her, tell her to get the fuck out of my bed, when the light hit her face just right and everything inside me froze.

It was her. I instantly recognized her from all the pictures I had my PI gather on her.

Wren fucking Anderson.

The daughter of the same bastard who tore my family apart years ago. Richard Anderson. He called himself an acquisition manager but all he was was a greedy and sleazy bastard. Gutted my father’s business, dragged our name through the mud. His crimes were so great that my father didn’t make it out alive.

And here is his daughter. His precious, sheltered little girl, fast asleep in my bed. It’s like the universe placed her right in my grip like a sort of fucked up gift.

Better than the plan I had for the bitch she called a mother.

This would do.

Fury coursed through my veins. This is who Matthew picked. Of all women out there?

She looked so damn peaceful. Her lips parted, dark lashes fluttering against her cheeks, her hair spilled across the pillow like molten fire.

Who’d have thought that demon Richard had a daughter this beautiful? Fuck me she’s stunning. The thin silky dress she wore didn’t hide her curves, the kind of sculpted perfection that made a man want to ruin it. My mouth ran dry as my gaze raked over her body. I wanted to grab her.

First that long red hair and yank it back while I rammed into her from—

Fucking hell. What the heck am I thinking about right now?

She’s Richard’s daughter. I should be thinking of cutting her up and sending pieces of her back to her bastard father.

Revenge boiled and sharp in my chest, mixing with something else.

Hunger.

I should have thrown her out. Shut my eyes to the tempting curve of her spine, or the way her dress slipped down her shoulder. Or the soft moan that slipped out of her when she turned and lay on her stomach, her dress riding up her thigh.

I should have called security.

But my feet wouldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything but stare at the angel in my bed, anger and lust swirling together low in my gut.

Then, she stirred. Sighing softly, her eyes opened.

I forgot how to breathe for two seconds.

Her eyes were the greenest shade of green I’d ever seen. Big, hazy, stupidly innocent eyes. I didn’t need a fortune teller to know that this girl was as pure as they came.

Fuck. But of course. Richard would shield her from the world. The same world he helped fuck up.

My fists clenched. And right then I was ready. Ready to say “get the fuck out of my bed.”

Then she opened her mouth.

And the most musical voice I’d ever heard came from those rosy lips. Airy, sweet, like fucking honey.

“Josh?”

Who the fuck is Josh??

Before I could correct her, she reached out and wrapped her arms around my waist, her face pressing into my stomach.

“You came…I knew you’d come back,”

This Josh better be her fucking pet. If she’s thinking of another man while in my bed, shit’s going down.

My annoyance flared even worse.

She had no fucking idea. Did Richard tell her about me? No way in hell he did. With eyes that pure, I’ll bet my entire fortune she doesn’t know what her dear daddy does behind closed doors.

She’s clinging to the one man who will destroy her. That’s right. I want nothing more than to ruin this girl. Right here. In this fucking moment.

I should.

But her body felt too good to ignore. Warm, soft. Her scent hit me hard, dark cherries and vanilla, mixed with the clean floral of her shampoo. It imprinted right into my brain.

“Wren,” I said, my voice rough, my hands hovering over her shoulders to push her off.

She looked up at me. She fucking looked up at me. Her eyes were wide, fucking beautiful, still dreamy. Slowly, she rose to her knees on the bed. Her hands slid up my chest without fear. Like she knew me. Her touch was bold, yet shaky. But everything in her eyes told me she was anything but bold.

“I missed you,” she whispered, her voice low and sultry.

Then she kissed me.