LOGINBy the time Honey reached her office at Taylor Industries, her professional mask was firmly in place. Joy Smith, plain, reliable, and utterly unmemorable, nodded at the security guard and took the elevator to the executive floor.
Her assistant, Marjorie, greeted her with a concerned look. "Mr. Taylor's been asking for you. Three times in the last hour."
"I had a doctor's appointment," Honey lied smoothly. She did have one after work this afternoon, so not lying really. "The Boston presentation, I know he ended up emailing me."
"He's made significant changes to the proposal. The team's waiting in the conference room for a video meeting with him to go over it."
Honey nodded, striding toward her office to drop off her things. "Tell them I'll be there in a few minutes."
Her office was a reflection of Joy Smith… practical, organized, devoid of personal touches save for a single framed photo of her father on a fishing trip, sunglasses and hat hiding his face. But no photos of Riley.
She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. This was her domain. Here, she was in control, unlike the shambles of her personal life right now.
When she entered the conference room, six pairs of eyes turned to her. On the wall behind the head of the table was Grayson Taylor on the big screen TV, dressed in a charcoal suit, his expression impatient.
"Nice of you to join us, Smith," he drawled. "We've only been waiting forty minutes."
He seemed cranky but Honey didn't take the bait. "I had a medical appointment, Mr. Taylor. One that was scheduled weeks ago. We are all allowed lunch breaks as you are well aware. It's the law."
"More important than the Boston deal?"
"My health?" She met his gaze coolly. "Yes, actually. Had I had more notice I would have been here."
Something flashed in his eyes… surprise, perhaps, that she'd pushed back on something not directly connected to work. Good. Let him be surprised. Today was a day for changes. She was no longer taking shit from anyone including him.
"Well, now that you've graced us with your presence," he gestured to the room he could see on his screen, "we need to revise the entire proposal. They now want a more aggressive growth strategy and are asking for more money."
Honey took her seat, opening her tablet. "The strategy they presented was already at the upper limit of what their current infrastructure can support." She could see what the Nortons were doing. They wanted the highest possible payout for their business. Even though she had proved it wasn't worth the asking price.
"They've secured additional financing. They want to accelerate the timeline."
"By how much?" They wanted more money but had increased the liability by getting finance. It was a CFO’s worst nightmare.
"Fifty percent."
Honey couldn't hide her shock. "That's not acceleration, Mr. Taylor. That's recklessness."
The room went silent. No one contradicted Grayson Taylor, especially not in front of others.
His jaw tightened. "The Nortons disagree, as do I."
"Then, with all due respect, both you and the Nortons need a reality check." She pulled up the original projections on her tablet. "These numbers don't lie. A fifty percent acceleration without corresponding infrastructure investments would collapse their supply chain by Q3."
Grayson leaned forward, his voice dangerously low. "Are you calling me reckless, Smith?"
"I'm calling the proposal reckless," she corrected. "My job is to tell you when the numbers don't add up, not to rubber-stamp bad decisions to make you happy. I'm no yes man… or woman."
The tension in the room was so thick that Grayson wasn't even here. The other executives shifted uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact with her. Fucking cowards.
For a long moment, Grayson didn't say anything, from his expression Honey thought he was about to blow. Then, unexpectedly, his lips curved into something almost resembling a smile.
"Show me," he said.
Honey blinked. "I'm sorry?"
"Show me why it won't work. Convince me. Talk me through it."
She hesitated only a moment before sharing her screen to everyone in the room and Grayson remotely. For the next twenty minutes, she walked through the supply chain vulnerabilities, the cash flow implications, the market risks. She didn't hold back, didn't soften her assessment to spare his ego. He was wrong, and she was happy to show him.
When she finished, Grayson was watching her with an intensity that made her uncomfortable. Not anger, as she'd expected, but something else entirely.
"Everyone out," he said suddenly. "Except Smith."
The room cleared quickly, no one wanting to witness whatever was coming next. When the door closed behind the last person, Honey braced herself for the explosion. Was he going to fire her?
But the explosion didn't come, instead, she watched the TV screen as Grayson leaned back in his chair, studying her. "You've never spoken to me like that before. I mean, we've disagreed in meetings before. I know. But that was almost targeted."
Honey met his gaze steadily. "You've never proposed something this financially unsound before. I mean you take risks and I haven't always agreed but this could potentially be dangerous to the company."
"And if I override your objections?"
"Then I'll document my concerns in writing, as is my fiduciary duty to the shareholders." She gathered her tablet, preparing to leave.
"Smith, we are still buying this company."
"You're still going to buy them? Are you insane?" She realised her voice was raised. The man may be gorgeous, but he had a god complex.
Grayson lifted an eyebrow before nodding. "Yes, I'm still going to put in an offer. But with the information you have given me, the offer will be reduced by 20%."
Honey stared at him, disbelief warring with reluctant admiration.
"Why employ me if you’re going to do whatever the hell you like anyway?" Heat rose in her cheeks.
Grayson's expression remained maddeningly neutral.
"To keep me honest," Grayson finally replied, his voice measured. "To force me to justify my decisions, especially when I'm about to do something... unconventional."
Honey stared at him, trying to determine if he was mocking her. The man was infuriating. One moment he seemed to value her expertise, the next he was steamrolling over her objections.
"So, you want me to tell you when you're making a mistake, but you'll do it anyway?"
"I want you to give me all the information. Then I make the final call." His eyes narrowed slightly. "That's how this works, Smith. I take the risks; you provide the guardrails."
"Those aren't guardrails. They're warnings of a cliff you seem determined to drive off."
A short, unexpected laugh escaped him. "God, he was… infuriating."
"It's an accurate one." Honey stood her ground, clutching her tablet to her chest like a shield. "This acquisition at the price they're asking is financial suicide, even with the twenty percent reduction."
"Perhaps. But there's something about the Nortons' operation you're missing." Grayson tapped something on his keyboard, and a new document appeared in her inbox. "Their R&D department has developed a proprietary manufacturing process that will cut production costs by thirty-five percent once implemented allowing us to put more money into the supply chain."
Honey quickly scanned the document, her financial mind automatically recalculating the projections. "This wasn't in the original information given to me."
"Because they don't know what they have. Their departments don't seem to have great communication." Grayson's eyes gleamed with the predatory satisfaction she'd seen whenever he outmaneuvered a competitor. "Their technical team was telling me during a factory tour this morning."
"Why wasn't this information given to us during the meeting?"
"Because I don't want the rest of the team to know just yet. Leaks happen."
Grudgingly, Honey had to admit this changed the equation. "Even so, the timeline—"
"Will be adjusted based on your analysis. Eighteen to twenty months instead of twelve." He folded his hands on the desk. "You've done your job, Smith. You've forced me to justify my decision with actual data. That's why I employ you."
She felt oddly deflated. He had been ten steps ahead of her the entire time. "I still wish you had shared this information from the beginning."
"And missed watching you tear apart my proposal with that surgical precision of yours? Where's the fun in that?"
The comment caught her off guard. Was Grayson Taylor actually... enjoying their confrontation? God, he was… infuriating.
"I'm glad my professional dismemberment of your business strategy provides entertainment, Mr. Taylor." She couldn't keep the edge from her voice. "Next time, perhaps save us both some time and just present all the relevant facts upfront. You could have sent the files to my email and told me you didn't want everyone to know."
"Where's the fun in that?" His eyes flickered with something that might have been respect. "Have the revised presentation on my desk by four. And Smith?"
"Yes?"
"Good work today." He cut the connection before she could respond.
Honey stood there, staring at the blank screen. Had Grayson Taylor just complimented her? The same man who'd been belittling her conservative financial approach for eighteen months?
She shook her head, gathering her things. She didn't have time to analyze her boss's strange behavior, not with the presentation deadline looming. She would still add her views in the presentation so if this goes south the stockholders will know she was against it.
"Then what was it like? Because from my viewpoint, it felt like you couldn't get away from me fast enough.""I was trying to do the right thing." His voice was low, rough. "You deserved better than some fucked-up Marine with more baggage than future. You deserved a clean break. You had your whole life ahead of you. Fuck, Prue, you were a virgin.""You don't get to decide what I deserve or need." The tears were coming now and she hated them, hated showing him how much he'd hurt her. "And you especially don't get to make that decision for me and then disappear without a word. What you did was a shitty thing to do."He closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them, they were darker than she'd ever seen them. "You're right. I should have called. I should have—" He stopped. "I'm sorry."The apology hung between them.Prue wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm not telling you this because I want something from you. I'm not trying to trap you or force you into anything. But you ha
Prue arrived at The Grey Market fifteen minutes early, which gave her too much time to sit there and panic.The coffee shop was busy for a Tuesday afternoon, filled with students from SCAD and tourists wandering through the area's historic district. She'd chosen a table in the back corner, away from the windows, somewhere they could talk without being overheard. Her hands wrapped around a cup of herbal tea she hadn't touched, watching the door like her life depended on it.Which, in a way, it did. She knew she was being dramatic, but she wanted this to go a certain way if all her dreams could come true. She didn't just want her baby she wanted Nate. If she was going to be honest with herself.She'd changed clothes three times that morning. Settled finally on jeans and a loose blouse that didn't cling to her stomach, even though there was nothing to see yet. Her hair was down, brushed until it shone, because some stupid part of her brain thought if she looked good enough, he might… wha
They both knew a woman can claim rape if she was too drunk to make a clear chose. “Fuck, Gray, you know me better than that. She wanted it, and she was sober.” The memory of Prue in that cave, looking up at him with those eyes, begging him not to stop. “She was the one who… it wasn’t like I forced her or anything. But she was in shock, Gray. We’d just watched my driver Jon die, we’d been shot at, we were stuck in a cave in the middle of a jungle. And I should have kept my hands off her, but I didn’t.”“What happened after?”“After?” Nate’s laugh was bitter. “After I realized what I’d done. After I realized she was twenty years old and a virgin and I had no business touching her. So I got her back to her father and I walked away.”“You just left?”“What was I supposed to do? She’s got her whole life ahead of her, Gray. She’s young, she’s beautiful, she’s got an education and a father who can open doors I’ll never be able to open. What the hell was I supposed to offer her? A one-bedroom
Four weeks later, Prue stood in her bathroom in her family home, staring at the pregnancy test lying on the vanity like it might suddenly change its mind. That somehow there was a mistake.Two pink lines. Clear as day.She’d known. Of course she’d known. Her period was two weeks late, her breasts were tender. But knowing and seeing it confirmed were two different things entirely.Pregnant.She pressed one hand to her stomach, feeling nothing different yet, but knowing everything had changed.The house was quiet around her. Her father was at some meeting in Washington, wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. Which was probably for the best because she had no idea how she was going to tell him that his twenty-year-old daughter was pregnant by her bodyguard. A man he’d specifically warned her about. A man who’d disappeared without so much as a goodbye.Four weeks.Four weeks since she’d watched Nate walk away on that helipad in Darwin. Four weeks of waiting for him to call, to reach out, to ack
The medical facility was sterile and cold. Prue sat on the examination table while her father stood nearby, arms crossed, watching the medical team assemble their equipment.A nurse approached with scissors. “We’ll need to cut off your clothing, Miss Brooks. It’ll be easier than trying to—”“No.” Prue’s hand shot out, gripping the woman’s wrist. “I’m not letting you cut my clothes off.”The nurse blinked, surprised. “Miss Brooks, it’s standard procedure. You’ve been through a traumatic experience and we need to examine you for injuries—”“I said no.” Prue’s voice was firm. She looked at her father. “I want a shower first. And clean clothes. Then they can examine me.”The doctor, an older man with grey hair and kind eyes, stepped forward. “Miss Brooks, I understand you’ve been through something terrible, I heard you were in the middle of the riot. You may not realize if you’ve been hurt with the shock—”“I’m not hurt.” The words came out sharper than she intended. “But I’m not letting
He looked down at his shoulder like he'd forgotten about it. "It's fine.""It's not fine, there's blood—""It stopped bleeding." He shifted in his seat, wincing slightly. "Just a burn. Bullet grazed me yesterday, that's all.""That's all?" She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You got shot and you didn't say anything?""Wasn't shot. Grazed. There's a difference."He acted like this was normal. Getting shot wasn’t normal.One of the airmen leaned over, first aid kit already in hand. "Let me take a look, mate."Nate started to protest, then seemed to realize it was pointless. He let the airman peel back his shirt, revealing the adhesive pad he'd slapped on that morning. Nate saw it was soaked with blood, so it must have started to bleed during their trek to the airstrip.The skin around the burn was angry and red, the graze itself a nasty streak across the top of his shoulder."Christ," the airman muttered. "You've been walking around with this all morning? Should be hurting like







