Logan slumps in his chair, and I can see him mentally checking out of the conversation.
By the time I dismiss them thirty minutes later, Logan practically runs for the door.
“That went well,” Donovan says, closing his tablet.
“He’s pathetic.” I pour two fingers of whiskey. “I don’t know where I went wrong with that one.”
“You were building an empire when he needed attention.” Donovan accepts the glass I offer. “At least Kai turned out interesting.”
“Kai turned out reckless.”
“Fair point. What do you think of the girlfriend?”
“Smart. Observant. Hiding something.” I swirl my drink. “The background check came in decent. Deceased mother and a stepfather she keeps in touch with regularly. But something doesn’t add up.”
“Exactly.” Donovan’s smile is sharp. “She’s not after money. If she was, she’d be pushing marriage already. Logan’s mentionedher three times in ten months. No social media posts together. No pictures in his place.”
“She’s a ghost in his life.”
“Which means she doesn’t want to be in his life.” Donovan finishes his whiskey. “She wants access to something else.”
“Then let’s see what she does with it.”
Donovan leaves around midnight. I work through emails for another hour, then head to my private wing. It’s separate from the guest quarters, connected by a hallway most people don’t know exists.
Music drifts from one of the rooms. Low and rhythmic.
I push open the door without knocking.
Dimly lit. Fire crackling. Kai has a woman pressed against the wall, her red dress bunched around her thighs. Donovan’s behind her, hand tangled in her dark hair, mouth on her neck while she gasps.
They all look up when I enter.
“Started without me,” I say, loosening my tie.
Kai grins, shameless. “Figured you’d show up eventually.”
“I was in my office.”
“Where you live,” Donovan adds.
The woman between them is Veronica. Resort staff. She’s been amenable to our arrangement for over a year now. Beautiful, discreet, interested only in pleasure with no strings attached.
Perfect for nights like this.
“Hi, Grant.” She’s breathless, flushed. “Took you long enough.”
“Had business.” I cross the room, unbuttoning my shirt. “You started without me. That’s rude.”
“We were just warming up,” Kai murmurs against her shoulder.
I reach them, running my hand along her jaw before tilting her face up. Her lips are swollen from kissing my sons. I take my time, slow and deep, feeling her melt into it.
Kai’s hand slips under my open shirt. Donovan’s breath is hot against my neck.
This is familiar territory. Easy. The three of us have shared women for years. Always someone who understands the arrangement and wants nothing beyond what we offer.
But tonight, for reasons I can’t explain, I keep thinking about sharp eyes and burgundy dresses and the way Samantha Allen looked at me across the dinner table.
