Elena had grown up like a princess, but now she was a queen. The queen of fun and games—and the room full of staggeringly wealthy players were getting exactly what they paid for.

“Blindfolds off, gentlemen.” She’d been herding the crowd of millionaires through the maze with the threat of her long whip while the other Kitty Cats had been using their own torture devices of choice. The men were sweaty, lash-streaked and panting for more. All were big-shot bankers, lawyers, CEOs of this and that who sure loved to play tag and seemed to truly enjoy the chase, ‘be chased’ model that Elena had developed.

As they took off their blindfolds, the men surveyed the Kitty Cats with their hungry lust-filled eyes, greedily gorging on the feast of flesh before them. The Cats all stood with kink tools in hand, looking glamorous in their rhinestones and sequined skirts and halters. The men were no doubt wondering who had paddled them so soundly, which of the sly Cats had whipped with such precision. It obviously was a fun guessing game if the expressions held true, an added bonus of mystery and intrigue, and the men all looked eager to get on with more fun.

Perfectly primed for an upsell. Just as Elena had intended.

“Look around you, sirs,” Elena said as she flourished her whip, giving a little snap to remind them who was in charge. “My mistresses of pain are here for your pleasure, but only if you’re willing to pay for their time. Make your choices and be quick about it. The mistresses are busy.”

Speaking of which, Elena was definitely pushing her luck, timewise. She had an eight-p.m. flight to catch and was already running late.

“Use your wristbands to upgrade your package, and you’ll find the surprises will keep coming all night long.”

The electronic wristbands had been her idea, pitched at last month’s department meeting. She watched as the men scrambled to their favorite Kitty Cat then raised their wrists to swipe along the small devices the girls all had. It was an ingenious way to collect money that gave the men very little time to regret the hefty prices they’d find on their bank statements later.

It was well worth the cost, if you asked her. The Kitty Cats were all trained for whatever kind of fun the men wanted, and everyone would leave very satisfied. Even still, to the uninitiated, that first whopper of an upsell sometimes came with some sticker shock. She’d fielded a few angrily whispered phone calls over the last few weeks, the men always seeking discretion, and had handled them all with grace and, ironically, another upsell on something the men just couldn’t live without. Sabine had been delighted, and Elena knew a promotion was now within her grasp.

Which was why she, along with a group of high-achieving Kitty Cat colleagues, had all been invited to a private getaway for rest, relaxation and a whole lot of competitive fun by their esteemed boss, Sabine Cowan. Elena was pumped to be going on the exclusive trip. Yes, it happened to fall over Christmas, and yes, normally Elena would be spending that day and the ones around it working at a foodbank or soup kitchen, but she figured that this year, and only this year, she’d set aside her lifelong quest for redemption and indulge herself. Not only that, but this was the perfect opportunity for Elena to tempt Sabine on a few ideas that Elena had, not to mention a proposal for a promotion that would hoist her into the upper echelon of Cowan Enterprises in one fell swoop. Elena wanted her ‘queen of games’ status to be the real deal, and this trip was one step closer to making it happen.

Yes, Sabine had said this was a no-business kind of trip and work phones were to be left at headquarters, but Elena figured being the only single traveler on the trip, Sabine might take pity on her and let her be a third wheel with her and her partner, Trent, where inevitably business might come up in conversation.

It will definitely come up. The other Cats on the trip might be content to wait for their boss to handpick them for a new job or a raise, but Elena had other plans. She was always ready for opportunities that might come knocking…or ones that she set up accidentally on purpose so she’d pull ahead of the high-achieving pack of Cats.

It wasn’t cheating if she wasn’t going for the same raise everyone else was. Her proposal would be for a new position, not yet occupied by anyone in the company.

The fact that Elena didn’t have a plus one suited her just fine…mostly. Really, it was no big deal that she would be attending the getaway alone when all the other Cats would be bringing significant or not-so-significant others with them. Her only friends were the ones she worked with, and spending time with them on a tropical island for the holidays was just as appealing as spending it with a non-existent boyfriend.

At least, that’s what she was telling herself. Of course, it would be nice to walk along the beach at dusk, holding hands and being all romantic with someone, but it would also be nice to stretch out on a queen-size bed and not have to compromise on activities. Also, once her plan was in play, she was determined to get Sabine talking shop, something that Elena felt would be better achieved if she were alone.

“Ladies, I’m out of here,” Elena said to the two Kitty Cats managing the organization of the partner-pairing that was underway. “If there are any problems, call Anthony.”

“You got it, boss,” Sapphire said with a wink. “Have fun!”

Sapphire had gone on the trip the previous year and raved to anyone who would listen that it was not to be missed. The only reason she couldn’t go this year was because she was booked for two weeks with one of her sugar-daddy clients, and she’d be wined, dined and fucked to her heart’s content. It had been Sapphire who’d told Elena that this trip was a must-do if she wanted private time to talk to Sabine. It was hard enough to track the woman down day to day, she was so busy, and this trip would give her plenty of free time on a secluded island. What better way to hijack a tanning session for some idea sharing and promotion wheeling and dealing?

Elena did a quick wardrobe change, because skintight latex bodysuits were not all that practical for lounging on a private jet. Instead, she slipped on yoga pants and a tank under her bulky sweater. It was cold as shit in New York, but she wanted to be able to shed the layers once she was airborne and on her way to the Bahamas.

She took an Uber to the airport and got slightly turned around once inside, looking for the gate that would take her to Cowan Enterprises private jet. It wasn’t every day that someone got an invite to travel in luxury, and finding where she needed to be was made more confusing by the sheer number of travelers departing. Holiday season was chaos! She had to wonder why anyone would do this every year just to visit family. Although, she did have a very skewed set of principles when it came to wanting to spend time with hers. She definitely wouldn’t travel to see anyone related to her at any point in her adult life.

She wasn’t a black sheep…far from it. She was the white sheep among wolves, and she’d rather be bitten by fire ants than have to spend the holidays with her father.

She was just about to text a distress, hopelessly lost plea to Adam Lancaster, head of Cowan security, when she was swept up in a sprinting mob, their panic palpable as they raced to a connecting flight. She didn’t know where they were headed destination-wise, but she could tell by their frantic shouts that they absolutely couldn’t miss the flight.

Her hair was yanked in one direction, her bag in another. She teetered on her fashionable but maybe not practical heels and cursed herself for getting caught up in a tornado of bodies. If she hit the floor, she’d be trampled for sure.

Wonderful, death by frantic holiday traveler stampede.

She reached a hand out, trying to force her way through the crowd by parting the rushing people next to her, when a firm grip latched onto her outstretched fingers. Before she could tumble back any farther, she was wrenched from the melee, wrapped in strong arms and moved out of the way, dragging her small carryon bag with her. As she began to catch her breath, whoever was holding her kept walking, practically carrying her toward the side of the main walkway.

“I’m good,” she gasped, clasping her hands for a hold on the stranger’s arms, her feet unsteady as she tripped along with him. “You can put me down now.”

Except the person didn’t put her down. In fact, he—and it was definitely a massively muscled he—seemed to be ignoring her as he swiftly moved her down a short side hallway.

“Hey! I said, I’m fine. Let me go!”

“Hush.” He clamped his hand over her mouth, sending her straight into ballistic mode.

She wrenched her body, dropping her weight to hang like a limp noodle, no longer cooperating with him as she dug her heels into the carpet.

It didn’t slow him down at all.

She scratched her nails between his fingers, digging in so she was sure she was drawing blood.

Again, no impact.

She swung her bag around and heaved her leg up, striking backward, aiming for a knee, shin, whatever she could hit with her spiky heels as her bag connected with the side of his face.

“Ouch, shit!”

That gravelly voice rolled over her, down her spine, zapping every synapsis she had and waking up the dormant desires she kept hidden.

“Princess, it’s me.” He spun her around then pushed her up against the wall. He wasn’t being rough, though she wished he would be. His face was the same as it had always been—rugged, a scruffy jaw, a scar that he’d earned on her behalf bisecting his cheek, hazel eyes rimmed by dark lashes. He’d grown his hair out from his usual military cut so it hung in soft waves like dark ribbons of chocolate. Her breath left her lungs, suctioned out by shock. “It’s me, Elena.”

“I know it’s you.” She didn’t, of course, not at first, but his voice…oh fuck…that voice haunted her most sinful dreams. That voice was enough to melt her panties and set her heart on fire.

That voice belonged to Rylan Ward.

The love of her life.

The man of her dreams.

The stubborn ass who always put duty over his heart and social etiquette over his desire.

She kneed him in the nuts then pushed him backward as he started to fall, a moan slipping from his clenched lips.

“And I told you never to ambush me like that.” In fact, she’d told him she never wanted to see him again, which, at the time, had been a big fat lie that he had taken as truth. It’d been three years since they’d last spoken.

“Princess, you’re in danger,” he gasped from the ground, panting through his pain as he shifted into a crouch, already recovering from her cheap shot.

Of course, she should have known he had balls of steel.

“Stop calling me that. I’m not a princess.” If she’d ever been one to begin with… Her family had been royals by coup, generations of politics, of taking what didn’t belong to them, of getting their way if only because of their surname, until it had all come crashing down around them.

“I have to get you to safety.” Ry uncurled himself, slowly rising to his full height to tower over Elena. He was all muscle and sinew under his black suit and white shirt, his tie so tight to his throat that he moved when he swallowed. “There are men—”

“I told you before… I don’t want protection from you.”

He grabbed her arm, and she tugged it back. Their eyes locked like magnets, hers shooting daggers, his narrowed and piercing.

“And I told you that I’d never put you in danger.” He flinched, and in an instant, Elena knew he’d failed at least one of his missions.

“Cai is dead, isn’t he?”

Ry gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Last night.”

Her world tilted, and this time when he gripped her arm, she didn’t fight him off. Her father, Cai Russio, was a very bad man with many sins on his shoulders. She hated him for who he was, what he stood for, what he’d demanded from everyone, but he was still her father—the last of her blood relations, actually.

“Cancer. He didn’t want anyone to know. It took him fast.” Ry was blunt, but she could hear the war behind his words. They both knew that her father deserved a worse death than that. True to his nature, though, Ry had protected the man until his last breath. “They’ll come for you now that he’s gone.”

Her father, the enemy of her heart, her soul, her conscience, had been the catalyst behind a lot of people wanting the Russio family dead…including Elena. There had always been a price on his head, but he had been legendary in his ruthlessness and cunning in his ability to disappear. No hitman or woman ever got to him, mostly thanks to Ry.

Ironic that it was cancer that did the job in the end, free of charge.

Now it was Elena’s turn to gulp, forcefully pushing down the boulder growing in her throat. “Where will you take me?”

He swayed closer, his focus straying to her lips then down her throat before sliding back to meet her gaze. She raised her hand to trace his scar, the divot along his flesh a familiar track, but held back at the last second, curling her fingers instead. Touching Ry would be a mistake. It would always be a mistake. She tilted her head up anyway, brushing her body against his and felt his grip loosen, like he was giving in, finally accepting that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

“Somewhere safe,” he said, his gravelly voice hushed.

She so badly wished this to be under different circumstances. For years, she’d fantasized about Ry coming to sweep her away—to confess his undying love, or hell, even just admitting to his lust, and taking her off to a private island where they could be alone together.

Reality hit Elena upside the head. He wasn’t here for that. He was here to destroy her plans.

“I’m headed to a secluded place. I’ll be safe there. Security will—”

“No,” Ry growled. “I have a place we’ll go. Come on. We’re wasting time.”

He tightened his grip on her arm as the wall he always put between them rose up to shutter his feelings once again. She wrenched her arm, doing nothing to loosen his grip.

“Don’t start this shit again, Elena. We don’t have time—”

“Everything okay here, Elena?”

Elena turned her head, snapping herself away from Ry’s hard eyes to see Adam, his arms crossed, eyes narrowed, chin up. He was a brick warehouse where Ry was more like a sleek mansion. A fight between the two would be disastrous, especially considering that Ry was a trained assassin, deadly in more ways than she could count.

Ry opened his mouth, and she knew what he was about to say would end up in a mess, so she beat him to it by hoisting herself up on tiptoes then planting a kiss on his cheek, startling him from saying a word.

“Everything’s amazing, Adam.” She yanked a stunned Ry, his arm halfway to his cheek like he could brush away her kiss, so he was facing Adam, her smile electric and, she hoped, convincing. “I’d like to introduce you to my plus one.”

“Your plus one?” both men said with different tones, Adam’s skeptical and Ry’s full-on what-the-fuck?

“Yes, Adam Lancaster, this is Rylan Ward, my fiancé.”