Page 34 of The Pakhans’ Curvy Prize

"Marla." Nick's voice comes through the door, low and commanding. "Open the door. We need to talk."

I close my eyes, my hand resting on the doorknob. There's no point in pretending I'm not home.

They saw me in the window.

I unlock the deadbolt and pull the door open. All three of them are standing on my porch, tall and broad-shouldered and radiating a controlled danger that makes my survival instincts scream at me to run.

"Can I help you?" I ask, and I'm proud that my voice only shakes a little.

"We need to talk," Russ says, and he's already moving past me into the cottage before I can respond. Alex follows with that same amused expression, and Nick is the last one in, closing the door behind him with a quiet click that sounds far too final.

They're in my space now, in my safe place.

The cottage suddenly feels too small with all three of them in it, their presence filling the room and making the air feel thick and hard to breathe.

"You can't just barge into my house," I say, trying to sound firm. "I didn't invite you in."

"No, you didn't," Alex agrees, looking around the cottage with obvious interest. His gaze lingers on my laptop, on the wine glass, and the stack of notebooks on the coffee table. "Nice place. Very isolated. Good for privacy."

The way he says it makes it sound like an accusation, and I feel my cheeks flush. "What do you want?"

"Answers," Nick says flatly. He's standing near the door with his arms crossed, blocking my only exit. "Starting with why you targeted all three of us."

"Targeted?" I repeat, my voice going up an octave. "I didn't target anyone. I went to a club, I met some guys, and I made some really stupid decisions. That's it."

"That's it," Russ echoes, something dangerous in his tone now. "You just happened to sleep with three businessmen who are in the middle of sensitive merger negotiations. You just happened to pick the three of us out of everyone at that club. That's one hell of a coincidence, Marla."

"I didn't know," I say. My voice sounds small even to my own ears. "I swear to God, I had no idea who any of you were. Sharon just said you were regulars at the club, and I thought⁠—"

"You thought what?" Alex interrupts, his tone sharp now. "That you could use us for whatever game you're playing? That we wouldn't figure it out?"

"I'm not playing any game!" The words come out louder than I intended. "I didn't even know you knew each other until I saw Russ at Alex's building, and then I saw Alex outside Nick's place, and I realized I'd made a huge mistake, but by then it was too late!"

"How much does Sharon know?" Nick asks. The question makes my blood run cold. There's something in his tone that suggests Sharon's knowledge might be a problem.

"Sharon doesn't know anything," I snap. "She's just a bartender who thought she was helping her friend meet some nice guys. You need to leave her out of this."

"Nice guys," Russ repeats, and there's something bitter in his laugh. "Is that what you thought we were?"

"I thought you were rich businessmen who liked to have a good time," I say. I can hear the defensive edge in my voice. "I thought you were exactly what I was looking for, which was someone who wouldn't want anything serious or complicated. I didn't know you were—" I gesture helplessly at all three of them. "Whatever this is."

"And what were you looking for, exactly?" Alex asks, moving closer. He's studying me with that same intense focus from our night together. "What was the point of sleeping with three different men in three weeks? What were you trying to accomplish?"

The question hangs in the air, and I can feel all three of them watching me, waiting for an answer. My face is burning now, humiliation mixing with anger and fear. They think I'm some kind of spy or plant or threat. They think I deliberately targeted them for some nefarious purpose.

"Answer the question, Marla," Nick says, his voice dropping lower. "Why did you sleep with all three of us?"

"Because I'm a fucking idiot," I burst out, my voice shaking with emotion. "Because I thought I could just have some casual sex and get some experience and it wouldn't matter, and I didn't think about the consequences or the complications or the fact that maybe, just maybe, I should have asked more questions before slept with three strangers!"

"Experience for what?" Russ asks. There's something different in his tone now. Less accusatory, more confused.

I can feel tears burning behind my eyes, and I hate myself for it. I hate that I'm about to cry in front of these men, hate that they've invaded my space and made me feel small and scared and humiliated.

"For what, Marla?" Nick presses, and there's no mercy in his voice.

The words burst out of me before I can stop them, propelled by fury and humiliation and the desperate need to make them understand that I'm not a threat. I'm just an idiot who made some really bad decisions.

"I was doing research for a romance book I'm writing!"