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Lainie stared at the massive black doors that led to Bei International’s CEO’s office and bit her lower lip in trepidation. She hadn’t seen the man inside in over ten years. How had the time changed him? Would he be the same?

There was only one way to find out.

She straightened the hem of her skirt and made sure her hair was still up in its clip. After knocking on the door, she took a deep breath to calm her nerves and waited for the call to enter.

“Miss Westerbrook?” A deep voice made her whirl and put her hand to her throat. She looked up for what seemed like forever.

“Yes.” She found her voice, proud that it didn’t quaver.

The owner of the voice had short spiky blond hair and dark gray eyes. A dark business suit clothed a body that told of hours spent at the gym. When he smiled, his cheeks produced two deep dimples.

“I’m Elaine Westerbrook,” she continued, holding out her hand.

After a few seconds, he took it between his finger and thumb. She raised her brow at him in question and he laughed. “Forgive me, I’m told I don’t know my own strength. I’d hate to hurt you.” He smiled politely but she swore she detected a touch of menace. “My name is Kane.”

Maybe it was just paranoia but she didn’t think so. The instincts that made her a good reporter told her she was right. However, even she’d admit that she had a wild imagination. “I’m sure you wouldn’t do something like that, huh, Kane?” She injected her tone with just the right combination of sweet flirtatiousness.

“Not on purpose.” He took another long look at her before opening the door for her. A good thing, as she doubted she could have moved it herself.

He stepped inside and cleared his throat. “Mr. Bei, Ms. Westerbrook is here to see you.” With another heart-stopping smile, he left her alone with his boss.

Lainie waited for the man in question to turn. He didn’t at first, just continued to look out the window. How rude, and how typical of a man of his standing.

“Marcus.”

At the sound of his name, his shoulders stiffened and he slowly turned to stare at her. His lips curled into the same beautiful smile that stole its way into her dreams at night.

Marcus stood a little over six feet. His slanted eyes told of his Asian ancestry; however, she saw his mother’s Native American heritage there as well. He’d been blessed with the best of all his genes. Tall, dark and deadly didn’t even begin to describe him. The man was some USDA prime, genuine beefcake, the man to whom she’d compared all other men she’d ever dated and found them lacking. Life was so bloody unfair.

“Lainie, long time no see.” His voice had changed over the years to a deep baritone.

“Ten years.” She tried to relax, but found she couldn’t. Her stomach fluttered as she took him in.

He’d been a teenager the last time she saw him. Now his shoulders were broader, but the rest was still lean and hard. The light of humor was missing from his eyes, replaced by a look of superiority and disdain. His hair was still inky black and straight. It was longer than she remembered. This was a surprise; she would have thought that he would have it short, to suit his tycoon persona. Apparently not, as it reached the shoulders of his charcoal-colored suit, nothing off the rack for him.

Marcus Bei, once the friend of her childhood, was now the head of his father’s software company. Bei International was a worldwide operation and this man was at the helm.

“You still look exactly the same.” He finally moved forward, gesturing for her to sit in the chair across from his desk. He politely waited until she’d done so before sitting down himself.

“Surely not!” She laughed to cover her nervousness. “I was so gawky back then.”

He gave her a probing glance which she didn’t attempt to interpret before he leaned forward, lacing his fingers together on top of his desk.

She stared at those long fingers, strong and capable, and shivered but covered it by shifting in her chair.

“What can I do for you, Elaine?” He pinned her with his dark gaze.

“I have a favor to ask,” she began, only to be interrupted by a short bark of laughter. “What? It’s only a small one. I—”

“Just spit it out.” His words made her look up, and she noted that his eyes matched his tone perfectly; flat, hard and empty. It seemed he had changed, and not for the better.

“Never mind. This was a mistake. I’ll get my story by myself with no help from you.” She wished she’d never come here at all. He only made her remember happier times in her life, before she lost the small amount of security she’d gained in her teen years.

She stalked across the black marble floor, her heels clicking out a staccato rhythm that matched the pounding of her heart. She was furious and didn’t care if he knew it. She reached her hand out and grasped the handle, jerking it with all her might. It barely budged. Was the damned thing made of lead?

A hand appeared over the top of her head and pushed the door shut. “What in the hell are you doing?” She turned to glare up at him, thankful she’d worn heels. At least she wasn’t staring at his breastbone. At 5’4”, she used to think she was average, but the world seemed to have grown taller when she wasn’t looking.

Marcus loomed over her, probably on purpose. “I thought you wanted a favor, Lainie.” He drawled her nickname and if he wasn’t leering, she’d turn in her press pass right now.

“You said no.”

“I don’t even know what your favor is, so how could I refuse?” He had a smirk on his face she wanted to knock right off. Belatedly, she remembered how he used to tease her when they were younger. He hadn’t changed all that much.

Strangely enough, that was comforting. She straightened to her full height and attempted to look down her nose at him. “I want you to take me to the Caulder Ball.”

He blinked in surprise and triumph surged through her veins. Ha, he never saw that coming. “Why?”

“Something strange is going on in his company.” She kept her answer purposefully vague. “I need to get close to see how high up it goes.” She knew he had an invitation. All the bigwigs did.

“What sort of strange goings-on?” He leaned forward and she tried to lean back but the door halted her progress. He moved a little nearer. Did he sniff her? He did! She’d showered just this morning.

She opened her mouth to tell him off when he fitted his lower body snugly against hers.

“You smell nice, Lainie. Almost good enough to eat.” He sniffed her neck again.

“Are you on drugs?” She shoved at him but he was like a stone wall, not even budging an inch. “Marcus! Get the hell off me!”

“If I give you this favor…” he moved back, but only slightly, “…what do I get in return?”

“My undying gratitude?” she ventured. When he only arched his brow she snapped, “What do you want, my firstborn?”

“That could be arranged.” His grin turned wolfish. “I could make a donation to the cause, if you’d like.”