I wasn’t supposed to want her—but one kiss turned her into my only obsession.

Aiden

I kissed my twin sister’s best friend in a wine cellar.

It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t smart. But the second my lips touched hers, the world shifted, and I couldn’t stop.

Now, I’m stuck working with her. Joni Livingston. The girl who used to look at me like I didn’t exist until I kissed her like I’d been waiting my whole damn life.

She thinks I’m just the spoiled, screw-up son of a Vegas mogul, coasting on charm and family money.

But there’s more to me, and I’m about to show her.

She says she wants professionalism.
But the way she melts when I get close says otherwise.


Joni

I came to Vegas to build a legacy, not fall for the one man who could ruin it all.

Aiden McConnell is everything I shouldn’t want—reckless, gorgeous, impossible to ignore. He kissed me once and lit a fire I’ve never felt before. And now, I’m supposed to work beside him like I don’t remember the way his mouth claimed mine. Like I didn’t imagine what would’ve happened if we hadn’t been interrupted.

He’s my best friend’s brother.
My boss’s son.
And my biggest distraction.

I swore I wouldn’t fall for him.

But when he looks at me like I’m the only secret he’s ever wanted to keep, how am I supposed to walk away?

CHAPTER ONE
AIDEN

There was something special about standing on the back patio of my family’s Palm Springs vacation home, staring off across the man-made lake only a few hundred yards in front of me. The water sparkled in the warm, late afternoon sunshine, almost begging to be experienced.

A craving stirred deep in my soul. There were moments like this when I wanted more than anything to run down there, tearing off my clothes along the way so I could dive headfirst off the dock and into the cool, welcoming depths. To go deep, so deep nothing could touch me. Deep enough that the sounds all around me faded to silence, and I was surrounded by nothing but darkness.

Funny how that urge got stronger at times like this, surrounded by a bunch of faces I’d have to smile at and play nice with for the sake of my family.

At least some of them were friendly faces I genuinely enjoyed seeing. “It’s about time you invited us out to your family’s estate.” Sebastian lounged in a high-backed chair, sipping a glass of champagne like the rest of us. “I was starting to think you were making up stories about this place.”

His fiancée elbowed him, perched on his lap. “Don’t listen to him,” Claudia told me, rolling her eyes.

“Don’t worry. I figured out a long time ago he’s not worth listening to.”

Sebastian and I exchanged a grin, knowing we’d probably bust each other’s balls like this until the day we died. That was how our relationship ran.

“It’s sort of incredible.” Grayson admired the expansive, emerald-green lawn and the gardens a little farther off. They were Mom’s pride and joy, though I could probably count on both hands the number of times my mother had actually gotten her hands dirty out there. We had people who handled that kind of work, and she wasn’t one of them.

“It’s always been sort of a getaway,” I explained, polishing off my champagne before grabbing another glass from a passing tray and wondering when it would be acceptable to drink something stronger. It was still early, and some of the guests hadn’t arrived yet, but I would need extra liquid courage to get through tonight.

On the surface, I had nothing to be nervous about. My parents’ thirty-fifth wedding anniversary was hardly a reason to drown myself in a bottle of bubbly. I would be surrounded by dozens of people I had known all my life—my parents, friends, Dad’s real estate partners and colleagues, and relatives both close and distant.

It was the part I’d have to play that left me with the feeling I had to prepare myself—the clown prince of the McConnell family. The funny one, the careless one, the one who embodied the sort of playboy lifestyle people expected from the son of a real estate tycoon. I figured out a long time ago that it was much more fun to live off the family money than to make any of my own. There was no need to scramble around, grasping, clawing, and scratching for every penny I could.

It wasn’t that I was lazy. I simply didn’t see the point in working harder than I had to on anything.

“It was nice of your parents to invite all of us.” Vaughn Eastman eyed my champagne, meeting my gaze, but keeping his thoughts to himself like the smart man he was. I didn’t need him warning me to take it easy. I’d already gotten an earful from my father last night after my arrival.

“Be sure to behave yourself tomorrow. I’m making a big announcement.” His warning rang out in my memory, grinding my molars. Did he think I would throw a temper tantrum if I missed my nap time?

I wasn’t speaking of the devil, but he appeared anyway, walking across the covered patio while holding Mom’s hand. Like the rest of us, they were both dressed in their country club best, with Dad in a fitted navy suit and Mom in a cream-colored sheath dress accentuating her golden tan and the slim figure she had worked so hard to maintain throughout her marriage.

“Do you think we’ll last that long?” Nova Mancini asked, winding an arm around Vaughn’s and touching her head to his shoulder as they watched my parents greet guests. In the late afternoon sunlight, they both shone. A wave of affection washed over me despite Dad’s unwelcome warnings.

“Come on, you two,” I joked, winking at Nova. “You got drunk at a wedding and got hitched in Vegas. Is there any better beginning to an endless love story?” Nova rolled her eyes, taking a playful swat at my arm.

I lifted a hand toward a cluster of couples my parents were friendly with, wondering how many people had been invited. They spilled out across the lawn, enjoying cocktails and hors d’oeuvres, perched on chairs and benches scattered here and there. A boat pulled up to the dock, and another family disembarked, dressed in their finest.

In the midst of it all, Dad found me, raising a hand once he did.

“Excuse me, everyone,” I murmured, polishing off my champagne before standing and walking his way, smiling at a few familiar faces as I did. There were more than a few approving looks thrown my way by the younger women and even one or two Mom’s age. Nothing new. I had probably slept with some of the younger girls, even if I couldn’t remember.

“How’s it going?” I asked my father, glancing around. “Everyone seems like they’re having a good time.”

His broad smile didn’t last long. Leaning in, his voice dropped to an angry whisper, “Where is your sister? Do you know when she’s going to arrive?”

And there it was, the inevitable punchline. Why did I think things would ever change? Sliding my hands into the pockets of my slacks hid the way I clenched my fists in familiar frustration. “I have no idea where Quinn is.” Why the hell would I? “But I’m sure she’ll get here eventually. She’s a busy person.”

If anybody should have known, besides Quinn herself, it was our father. He could never shut up about her. How impressive she was, how important. “It’s a long flight from Egypt,” I added. “Or is it Haiti this time? I never could keep track of her.”

With a scowl, he muttered, “I would think you’d be a little more aware of your twin sister’s whereabouts. Could you do at least one thing and contact her, then let me know? We can’t really get this started until she’s here.”

Of course, why would we start a party without Saint Quinn? Patron of the poor and underprivileged, flying around the world to sprinkle money over the heads of the worthy but unfortunate, discussing real estate development, building schools, apartment complexes, neighborhoods, and meeting with heads of state and whoever the fuck else.

“I’ll give her a call,” I murmured, barely biting back my resentment.

“Mr. McConnell?” We both turned at the soft, female voice coming from beside us. It took me a second to recognize the chestnut-haired beauty standing there, her dark blue eyes moving back and forth between Dad and me. “I just talked to Quinn a few minutes ago. She’s choppering in from LAX. Turns out her flight was delayed, but she found a way to beat the traffic.”

“Of course she did.” Dad chuckled. “She always finds a way, doesn’t she? Thank you, Joni, and by the way…” he added while I put two and two together, “… you know you can call me Angus. How many times have we had this discussion?” With a gentle pat on her shoulder, he moved on, apparently forgetting I existed. Not surprising.

Joni? Joni, Quinn’s best friend? “Oh, wow,” I murmured once I finally remembered how to speak. “How long has it been, Joni? Years, I guess.”

“It has been a long time,” she agreed with a gentle laugh that made her eyes sparkle. Her fair cheeks flushed pink when she looked me up and down. “You look good. How have you been?”

“Fine, thanks.” Raising an eyebrow, I asked, “You?” There was nothing more cringeworthy than small talk with an old acquaintance. We were the same age, and her friendship with Quinn meant I’d seen a lot of her while we were away at boarding school in New York, but in the years since, our contact had been occasional at best. “Are you still in New York?” Obviously, it was doing her good.

“No, I recently moved to Vegas.”

I couldn’t hide my surprise. “Vegas? What brings you out to my neck of the woods?”

“I was recently offered a position. I couldn’t turn it down.” There was something devilish in her grin, reminding me of the innocent pranks she and Quinn used to pull back in the day. Both girls were fairly reserved on their own, but together they brought out something playful in each other. That meant the occasional stack of pizzas delivered to my dorm room, or the time I’d come back from class to find everything rearranged, right down to the clothes in my dresser drawers. I never did find out how they broke in.

Before I could ask her about the position, Mom appeared out of nowhere and grabbed my elbow. “The caterers didn’t bring up nearly enough wine from the cellar. They’re all busy doing something or other. Can you go down and grab a few bottles of the 2015 Chateau Mouton Rothschild for me?”

“I can help,” Joni offered. “Two pairs of hands are better than one.”

Mom gave her cheek a warm, maternal pat. “You are a sweetheart.”

Someone on the lawn shouted, “Look! Here she comes!” Excitement burst to life all around us, and we turned, looking out over the grounds. The young trees swayed and bent like a storm was raging, so there wasn’t a cloud in the sky to block the day’s last amber rays of sunlight. It was the force of a helicopter’s rotors, and everyone waited with bated breath, watching the landing.

The door opened, and a crew member jumped out, shouting something into the mouthpiece attached to his headphones. Mom released a silent, joyful sob when my twin sister alighted from the helicopter. She handled herself the way a person did when they were accustomed to traveling that way, with no hesitation, no cringing away from the blades. She never broke stride, only running a hand through her dark red bob as she crossed the lawn.

Dad couldn’t wait, meeting her a few strides away from the patio. From where we stood, I had a clear view of the sheer adoration shining in his eyes and face. The apple of his eye, the way things had been since the day we were born. Quinn was the smart one, the serious one, the powerhouse.

“Come on. Let’s get that wine.” I’d had about as much as I could take of watching my sister being adored, and the night was still young. Dinner would be served under a massive tent on the lawn, where rows of tables were currently receiving their finishing touches. The undersides of those tents were strung with twinkling lights, and there were more flowers involved than I’ve ever seen in one place in all my life. Right now, I wanted to be far away from it.

“She’s a lot,” Joni observed once we entered through the kitchen door, sidestepping the frantic activity taking place in there. Without thinking, I took her by the hand, ignoring the slight sizzle that ran up my arm in favor of keeping her from having anything spilled all over her simple but sophisticated black dress.

“What did you say?” I asked over my shoulder, barely sidestepping a guy with a tray of bread baskets. Perhaps I should’ve chosen a better entry point.

“I said she can be a lot. Quinn.”

That was different. I couldn’t remember ever hearing Joni say anything even slightly critical about her, not that we’d spent a lot of one-on-one time. I had assumed she held the same blind adoration everyone else did. “Yeah, that’s a good way to describe her.”

I didn’t realize until we were out of the kitchen and halfway down the hall to the door leading to the wine cellar that I was still holding her hand. Strange, but I didn’t want to drop it. There was something about her familiarity that gave me a sense of comfort. Nothing could throw me off my game like coming home, whether to my family home in Vegas or the estate out here in Palm Springs. I might as well have been a kid again, sneaking around, seeing what I could get away with. I had always excelled at that, while Quinn was busy networking or whatever the hell she was doing.

“It’s not easy when somebody’s always outshining you,” Joni murmured.

Her soft chuckle sounded a little sad, enough that I turned to look at her before opening the cellar door. “Do you ever feel that way?” I asked.

“Only since the day we met.” Suddenly, she giggled, tucking a long strand of gently waved hair behind her ear as I stepped aside to let her go down the stairs first. “Don’t listen to me. And don’t tell her I said that, please,” she begged.

“It’ll be our secret.” I held a finger to my lips before she passed me. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve kept something from her.”

Her eyes twinkled up at me when she looked over her shoulder. “Ooh, what else?”

Narrowing my eyes, I replied, “Right… like I trust you. I don’t need a centerpiece thrown at my head tonight.” Her giggling made me grin. It was a nice sound, and I hadn’t heard much of it when we were in school together. She was too shy and serious.

“I shouldn’t have assumed how you were feeling, anyway.” She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned to look up at me. There was the earnestness I remembered so clearly. She had a way of broadcasting her inner thoughts across her face. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I shouldn’t put words in your mouth.”

“They were the right words,” I told her, giving her a wink that made her anxious smile look more genuine. A nice smile. It sounded corny even in my head, but she had blossomed over the years. Whenever I thought of Joni, which was a rare occurrence, I remembered the big glasses, the lanky frame, bony knees, and a mouth that seemed too big for the rest of her face.”

“No wonder she felt overshadowed by Quinn, who, like me, was born with the perfect mix of our parents’ symmetrical features. She had always gotten all the attention, while Joni stood off to the side. It never occurred to me until now that we had something in common.

A moment passed, but neither of us said a word, settling for gazing at each other. This is getting awkward. “We’d better get that wine,” I eventually decided.

“Yeah, I guess so.” She almost sounded disappointed. I could understand why since I shared the feeling, though I doubted she had a reason to avoid all the commotion upstairs like I did.”

“Have you ever been down here before?” I asked, leading the way down a long line of shelves holding countless bottles. It was one of Dad’s interests, though something told me he wouldn’t appreciate it if I chose any of his most cherished bottles. The fact that I even considered picking one or two out and letting them be distributed among the guests without him knowing was pretty damn tempting. Maybe there was something wrong with me. I had a hard time leaving well enough alone.

“I don’t think so. I’ve only been here a few times. I’m pretty sure the last time was Quinn’s twenty-fifth.” Behind me, she groaned. “It was a party for both of you, obviously.”

“Paging Dr. Freud,” I muttered. She tried to stifle a giggle, but was unsuccessful. “No, you’re remembering it correctly. I might as well have not been there.”

“You both got the same new car as a present from your folks, didn’t you?”

“It wasn’t about the gifts.” I withdrew a few bottles once I identified the brand Mom had named, then searched for a good Chardonnay from the same vintage. “Mom did her best to make me feel included, but it was clearly obvious who the star of the night was. That was fine. I got…” my dick wet out in the boathouse. For a second, I forgot I wasn’t talking to one of my friends and trailed off. Rather than explain why I had no memory of which girl had joined me out there—one of Quinn’s friends, someone whose name I wasn’t sure I had ever learned—I concluded, “It was a good party. We had fun.”

“You had fun with Chloe McNeil, you mean.”

I almost dropped the bottle I was sliding from its place, gaping at her in surprise. “What?”

She was pretty when she blushed, which she was doing a hell of a lot of just then. “I noticed you walking down there with her, and I saw you coming back. It doesn’t take a genius.”

“Did somebody ask you to keep an eye on me?” It was a joke… almost.

Judging by the way she narrowed her eyes, it was obvious she didn’t take it that way. “No, of course not.”

“I was only kidding. I wouldn’t put it past Dad, that’s all.” I handed her three bottles of the red, one of which she tucked under one arm before carrying the other two in her hands. I did the same with the Chardonnay, then turned toward the stairs, where the door slammed shut at the top.

“What the hell?” I muttered, shaking my head as I imagined some hired staff member closing it as they walked past. “What, do they think we leave doors open at random around here during big parties?”

“At least you know someone’s paying attention.” She followed me up the stairs, where I realized I’d have to put one of the bottles down if I hoped to open the door. I set one down by my feet before turning the knob.

And nothing happened.

“Oh, come on,” I growled, giving the door a shove. It wasn’t locked, or else the knob wouldn’t have turned, but it seemed to be stuck. No big surprise after the way it was slammed.

“Maybe I should try?” Joni offered.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes before driving my shoulder against the door again. If I couldn’t get it open, what made Joni think she could?

“Hello?” I called out with my face close to the wood. “Hello? We’re stuck in here!”

“I didn’t bring my phone down with me. It’s in my purse, in Quinn’s old room.” She sighed. “Do you have yours?”

“I patted my pockets, knowing the answer but trying anyway. In my head, I saw my phone sitting on a table where my friends were gathered. Why the hell did I put it down? Dad had distracted me, asking about Quinn.

“Don’t worry,” I offered, sitting on the steps and trying to hide my irritation. “Someone will notice we’re missing, and Mom will remember she sent us down here. We won’t be here for long.”

It would be nice if I believed myself.”

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