a secret account, as did all her investments.
Someday she’d have enough to be solvent on her own. No more chasing after wealthy old pricks, swallowing her dignity and pride to cater to their every whim.
Someday.
That’s why Stuart Buck was so important.
That old man was going to put a ring on her finger—without the protection of a prenup.
Then, when he died, all of his assets would go to Harper.
No more scouring the society pages, frequenting country clubs and pretending to be someone she wasn’t just to make a dollar.
No more stressing about how she was going to pay her mother’s care bill.
The woman was as dependent on Harper as a child was on its parent.
Irony at its finest.
Even as much as Harper was focused on the big picture, there were times when a forlorn sadness intruded on her thoughts.
She’d stopped feeling guilty a long time ago, but now and then, she wished she had the luxury of enjoying a normal relationship.
Thankfully, that kind of wistful thinking didn’t happen often, but seeing someone like Teagan was always good for a little melancholy.
The fact was, she didn’t want to rely on anyone but herself for her well-being. In this world, either you were on the bottom or the top. And she made sure she was never on the bottom.
Harper jerked a short breath in and refocused. “Stuart, you sweet, old man. You are never going to know what hit you.”
Harper slipped her phone back into her purse and disappeared into her bathroom to get ready.
The stage was set and the players ready.
Time for the performance.
TEAGAN SURVEYED THE resplendent lounge, with burgundy walls and gold filigree ornamentation spilling out over every surface, and wondered if he’d somehow stepped into a time warp.
Lounge acts always reminded him of cheesy pickup lines and boozed-out singers looking for some last-ditch effort to rekindle their dying career.
In other words, Teagan had never really considered a lounge a great place to meet people he wanted to hang with.
But as his gaze perused the room, he locked on to the one person who’d made this trip remotely interesting.
Harper.
Long dark hair curled in lazy waves down her open-back black dress, the short hem teasing the toned length of her legs perched on sassy heels. Everything about her was elegant and refined, yet pulsed with a raw sensuality that spoke his language.
For him, everyone else faded away, even the flock of men surrounding her, all vying for a smile from the beauty.
Harper knew the power she held over men. Teagan could see it in the way she played the coy and delicate lady for the decidedly older men salivating around her.
He continued to watch with interest, finding the scene telling.
Teagan knew women of all kinds.
Being a former flyboy, his education on women had taught him that they could rule the world if they wanted.
They held the power in their nimble fingers to twist men in pretzels, but only a small percentage actually knew how to wield that power with any kind of efficiency.
But watching Harper, it was easy to see that the woman knew exactly what she was doing.
Good sense told him to walk away.
Find a different lady to spend his week with—someone less complicated.
Less dangerous.
But he knew that wasn’t going to happen.
A slow burn of a smile spread on his lips. Harper was a challenge that fired him up in ways he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time.
But if he remembered the rules of this game correctly, a direct approach would end in failure.
Harper was all about strategy, cunning.
So he had to respond in kind.
Well, J.T. had wanted him to cut loose, have fun.
What better fun could there be than trying to catch a woman intent on running away?
Hell, it was a bad idea—practically reeking of disaster—but he was in.
All in.
Tonight’s event was a standard meet and greet, with a single-and-ready-to-mingle vibe. Polite laughter and the buzz of conversation floated around the room. There were plenty of fish in this fishbowl, that was for certain.
Once his buddy Kirk Addler had joked that Teagan ought to put himself on Tinder. Teagan hadn’t paid attention to the newest apps and whatnot that were out there, so he’d reluctantly checked it out, seeing as Kirk seemed keen on it.
After a few appalling swipes, Teagan was a definite no.
And Kirk deserved a kick in the ass.
And more than likely, an STD check.
Swipe right, swipe left...no thanks.
If that was the dating in the new age, he’d happily remain single.
Ignoring the urge to insert himself into her circle of admirers, Teagan made a deliberate detour to the bar but managed to make brief eye contact with the brunette hottie. However, he made sure he was the one to break contact first before continuing on, as if she were merely a blip on his ever-roving radar.
Chicks hated to be overlooked.
Especially ones who knew they were the hottest in the room.
A smartly dressed bartender politely attended to his needs and, after receiving his beer, he tipped the man well.
Teagan didn’t have to wait long before his bait caught a nibble.
But not by the right fish.
Cougar Lady was hot on his trail, eyes flashing and tail twitching. “There you are again,” she said, sliding into the seat beside him at the bar. This time she extended her hand in a seductive introduction. “Vanessa Vermuelen. And you are? Aside from tall, delicious and ready-to-eat?”
“Teagan Carmichael,” he answered, appreciating the view of her bountiful cleavage practically inviting him to lay his head on it. He flagged the bartender, and because Teagan had tipped well, the bartender was eager to serve. “My lady friend here is in need of a drink.”
