Prologue
In Manhattan…
Morgan Kingston always enjoyed the light streaming across her office’s floor-to-ceiling windows at this time of day. Late afternoon, when the angle of the setting sun sliced through the city, razor-sharp and throwing it all into vivid clarity. Everything laid bare, nowhere to hide. It always reminded her of the naked terror of those dragged before her for judgment.
Sighing irritably, she walked to the liquor cabinet and refreshed her drink. First in Command of Jaguar Holdings hadn’t lived this long and clawed her way to the top of this empire of blood without developing keenly vicious instincts.
There was a courtesy knock on her door before it opened. Her Third in Command, Simon Fassell strolled in. Young, handsome, and a complete sociopath. “So, when’s our British replacement showing up?”
“Any minute,” she answered, “I’d tell you to be on your best behavior, but even your most unpleasant won’t phase this one. They’re sending us their best.”
Fassell automatically puffed up. “I killed the last one pretty quick.”
Kingston chuckled, “As I told you to. At any rate, the home office is sending us James Pine.”
That got the reaction she was looking for. Her arrogant junior partner nearly dropped his glass.
Which made the timing from her receptionist even better. “Ma’am? Sir? Mr. Pine is here.”
Based on the stories told about the man, he should have entered with blood dripping from his hands, but James Pine looked the perfect English gentleman, in an expensive. bespoke suit. He was very tall and handsome, with icy blue eyes so penetrating that Kingston was reminded again of the clarity of afternoon light. He could strip everything bare, and exposed with that gaze.
“Morgan? A pleasure. I’m James Pine.” His smile was just enough of a curl of the lips to appear pleasant without appearing unduly warm in any sense. He offered his hand to Kingston, removing a bit of the sting from using her first name so casually. “I am certain we will work very well together.”
Chapter 1: Welcome to The Blood Room - I Mean, Boardroom
In which we are introduced to the very definition of Toxic Work Environment
C'mon," Nicholas pleaded, "come out with us tonight. You'll love this place."
Keeping her eyes on the computer screen, Maura answered automatically, "Not going to happen, Holbrook."
"You're turning into R&D's biggest loser, you know that." He slumped back into his chair, idly clicking keys.
"On the bright side, I took that title from you, so you're freed from acting as the department's dork." She tried to keep her grin under control. "Which means you might finally land a date. See? I do serve a purpose in your social life."
His mouth dropped. "Well, that's just mean-spirited MacLaren."
Maura pushed back from her workstation, sending her chair rolling over to his. Looking him over critically, she asked, "Do you have any other shirts here?"
"No..."
Sighing, she rolled back to her desk and pulled a folded t-shirt out from a drawer. Tossing it at him, Maura said "Here. Put this on."
Confused, Nicholas unfolded the shirt to see her beloved vintage The Cure t-shirt. "What's wrong with what I have on?"
"Seriously? Just put the shirt on and get rid of that button-up." Tilting her head, "What are you going to do with your hair?"
Her lab partner just stared at her owlishly.
Exasperated, Maura jumped up and started rooting through her messenger bag. Pulling out her brush and hair product, she manhandled Nicholas into the tiny washroom attached to the lab. "Now, we're going to make this stuff on top of your head resemble hair. Styled and looking like you might have run a comb through it within the last week." Her workmate growled and tried to evade her.
"Geddoff! What're you doing!"
Maura sighed, "I'm trying to get you laid, you daft boy. Now hold still..." Her hands moved deftly over his hair, styling it into a casual, windswept look. "And a little of this... and there! Look how handsome you are!" Turning Nicholas to the mirror, she smiled behind him to see his woeful expression brighten. "See? Now those glasses make you the hot intellectual. Next, we take off that horrid shirt-"
Yelping, he pulled away from her. "Fine, Holbrook. I'll leave the room and keep your virtue intact."
"Aw, it's just like one of those makeover montages from a shitty teenage movie," drawled an annoying voice. "You gonna get Holbrook laid at the Prom, MacLaren?"
