Playing Dirty: Windy City Kink, Book 3

What seems like surrender may not be surrender at all…

Windy City Kink, Book 3

Paige Nelson has an amazing new life in a new city with her own business and new friends, her abusive ex-husband firmly in her past. Plans to expand her business are running into a few roadblocks, but she doesn’t need a man to help her. She can do this on her own.

From the minute he lays eyes on Paige, prominent developer Raff Lauden wants her. Intensely. Urgently. Though petite and delicate usually isn’t his type, he finds himself asking her out. Even more surprising? She says no.

Paige has a history of being attracted to dominant, controlling man. The kind she swore never to get involved with again. But maybe she’s trying to resist the one man who can give her everything she’s ever really wanted…

Warning: This book contains a feisty little blonde who likes to play with fire and a big wounded hero who won’t let her get burned.

Playing Dirty

Kelly Jamieson

Dedication

Thank you so much to Michele Harvey for your insightful beta read and intelligent comments—more valuable than words can say! And a special shout-out to the members of the Sweet Heat Reader Group, who entertain me, inspire me and make me laugh out loud on a daily basis.

Chapter One

Paige hated being late. Ever.

She pushed through the doors of Neiman Marcus, bracing against the chill wind that whistled down Chicago’s Michigan Avenue. Traffic filled the busy street, and the sidewalks bustled with shoppers and business people. She turned the corner and headed toward the Stennis Building, two blocks west of Michigan, hiking as fast as she could along the sidewalk, with her shopping bag and purse, right into the wind. Her cheeks began to sting from the cold and her spiky-heeled boots were starting to hurt her feet. One foot slipped on a patch of ice on the sidewalk, and she caught herself to keep from falling.
Ack!

She’d finally located commercial space that seemed like it was perfect for her growing business, with a rent she could actually afford, and she was excited to see it. Her appointment with the rep from the company who owned the building was at one o’clock and she’d taken longer than she’d planned in Neiman Marcus. What had started as a research trip had turned into a shopping trip when she’d discovered a deeply discounted sale rack.

Occupational hazard when your business was fashion and style. It was important that she know what the trends were. Shopping as research. Except she was putting all her money back into the business and didn’t have a lot of cash to spend on clothes for herself. But it was a really good sale…

She continued on, mindful of the time. Her feet covered the ground in fast, careful steps until she arrived at the door of the Stennis Building. As she reached for the door handle, one foot slid out from under her again. Her hand missed the handle and she crashed into the glass door.

Oh fuck. Fuckity fuck. She scrabbled for something to grab on to, missed the handle again and ended up in a heap on the sidewalk. Her shopping bag with the beautiful bargain sweaters skidded over the cement. She sat in a dazed fog for a moment, blinking and trying to figure out if she was hurt.

Didn’t seem so. She looked around. Luckily there was nobody close by to witness her embarrassment and she scrambled to her feet before someone noticed her. She reached down to grab the shopping bag then turned to the door again. Damn.

She pushed into the warm lobby gratefully. An elegant clock on the wall said it was one minute past one o’clock. She wasn’t that late, and nobody else was there. The guy had said they’d meet in the lobby.

She put a hand to her hair, which was probably sticking up in all directions from the wind. Her right hip and knee started to throb a bit. She looked down at herself. Luckily she was wearing pants, a pair of low-rise, black wool trousers, but she grimaced at the big smudge of mud on the knee. She gingerly touched her knee and winced. No blood was showing, so it couldn’t be that bad. She pulled up the leg of her trousers to inspect it.

Shit. Her knee was scraped red and a drop of blood oozed from it.

A draft of cold air swirled around her and her head jerked up to see a man enter the lobby from the street.

Her eyes went wide. Jesus. He paused at seeing her there with her pant leg hiked up, revealing her high black boot with the pointy toe and spike heel, and her scraped knee. His gaze flickered to her purse and shopping bag on the floor beside her, then swept from her boots up to her messy hair and no-doubt red face.

He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.

But fuckity fuck, why did he have to see her like this?

The moment felt frozen. Then she yanked down her pant leg. She kicked her foot to settle the fabric around her boot and straightened.

“Are you okay?” he asked. He lifted one thick, dark eyebrow.

She gulped. “Fine!” she squeaked.
Oh my fucking God.
She wanted to roll her eyes at herself.

The man stood in front of her, a concerned crease between his eyebrows. Dark eyes studied her. His long, dark winter coat hung from broad shoulders, over an impressively tailored suit that had to be custom, with those shoulders and the muscles she discerned beneath the clothes. Much taller than she, he looked down at her. She took in the sensuous curve of his lips, the dark shadow of beard stubble on his jaw, the expensive haircut, and, yes, she’d noticed the shiny black shoes were Prada.

Why wasn’t
he
slipping and sliding all over the icy sidewalks?

Nothing like that would happen to this man. He was confident. In control. Clearly master of his universe.

“Your knee is bleeding,” he said.

“I’m fine.” Heat washed up from her chest into her face at the knowledge that he’d seen her scraped knee. Now he was looking at the muddy smears on her pants where she’d landed on the sidewalk. “I just slipped outside the door.”

She straightened her shoulders and ran her hands through her short hair, trying to put it back in order. She flicked her fingers across her bangs to get them back in place then bent to retrieve her bag and purse. Her hip twinged and she winced but straightened anyway.

“There’s ice outside the door?” he asked, his voice deep and smooth like the darkest chocolate. “I’ll get that taken care of.”

“Oh. You must be Brad.” She stretched her mouth into a smile. “I’m Paige Nelson.” She extended a hand.

He took it in his, his eyes still focused on her face, and held it. “Paige Nelson.”

Her smile tightened up and she tried to withdraw her hand, but he kept hold of it. His hand was large and warm and strong. And unyielding. “Nice to meet you in person,” she said with a tug on her hand. “Should we look at the space?”

“You’re here about the last unit,” he said. His fingers tightened on hers.

“Uh…yeah.” They’d talked on the phone about this. Now that she thought about that, though, his voice was different. She would remember that voice. “You’re not Brad Jaworski, are you?”

His lips lifted into a smile, eyes intent on her. “Nope.”

A shiver ran over her skin at the same time heat curled low in her belly. She didn’t know who this guy was, which made her a little nervous since he was still holding her hand and not letting go. Also he was big and clearly very strong and very masculine. Hence the curl of lust, because holy hotness, he was gorgeous.

But as she well knew, gorgeous guys could be psycho douche bags. His size and air of power reminded her of her ex-husband, and she knew what bad news
he
was. She tugged harder on her hand and he finally relinquished it.

The door to the street opened again with a frigid draft of air and Paige turned her head to see another man enter the building. That had to be Brad. Relief flowed through her veins.

“Mr. Lauden.” The man who’d entered spoke to the man who’d just released her hand. “Hi. What brings you here?”

Mr. Lauden was apparently known to Brad, if that was in fact Brad.

“Hi, Brad,” he said. “I was passing by and thought I’d stop in and have a look at the renovations.”

“Brad, I’m Paige Nelson.” Paige spoke up and stepped toward him, once again extending her hand with a smile.

“Hi, Paige.” Brad shook her hand. “Nice to meet you. I have to tell you, though, I almost called to cancel our appointment.”

She blinked. “Oh. Why?”

“I showed the space this morning to another potential leaser, and they’re almost certain to take it. I decided I’d come show you anyway, in case the deal doesn’t go through, but I’m afraid it’s probably already leased.”

Her mouth fell open and her shoulders drooped. “Well darn. That’s disappointing.”

“You haven’t seen the space yet?” Mr. Lauden said.

“No, but…I saw the pictures online. This location is perfect and the rent is within my budget.” She sighed. “I’ve lost out on a few good places lately.”

“I’m sure Brad will be able to find something else for you,” Mr. Lauden said, with an authoritative look at Brad, who caught the look and nodded.

“Of course,” Brad said. “Absolutely.”

Who was this Mr. Lauden? Paige cast him a curious glance.

“Let’s have a look anyway, like I said,” Brad continued, leading the way down a hall. “You never know.”

Paige felt it was a waste of time and had a feeling if she saw the place and it was great she’d be even more disappointed, but she was there, so followed along. To her surprise, Mr. Lauden also followed. She wanted to demand, “Who are you?” but that would sound rude, so she kept her mouth shut.

Inside the unit, Brad removed his jacket and hung it in a closet. Mr. Lauden also took off his coat, then said, “I’ll take your coat for you.”

“Thanks.” She let him help take it off, tucking her scarf into one arm of the coat.

They began their tour. Yeah, the space was awesome. The entire building had been recently renovated so everything was clean and new. There was a back loading dock accessed by the lane behind the building, with a large storage area that was spotless. The front area was beautiful. It would be easy to create dressing rooms for trying on clothing.

“It would be perfect for us,” she said with what was probably a glum smile as they looked around.

“What type of business are you in?” Mr. Lauden asked. He stood leaning against a wall, a smartphone in his hand. His presence dominated the space, filling it with an intense energy.

Paige almost didn’t want to look at him, her attraction to him was so distracting. It made her feel shivery inside. “My business is Bisou Style,” she replied. “We do personal styling.”

“We?” He lifted one thick, dark eyebrow.

“Right now it’s just me and my assistant,” she admitted. “Bisou Style is a web-based personal styling service for busy women. Clients answer a questionnaire and then we pick out clothing and accessories based on their fit and wardrobe needs, and ship them to their homes each season. We’ve grown out of our current space.”

He nodded, eyes sharp. “Business is good.”

She smiled. “Yes. Our client list is growing.”

“Why is this space perfect?”

She assumed he was asking so that Brad would know what she was looking for. Perhaps Brad had other spaces that might work for her that she wasn’t aware of from her online research. She told him about the shipments of clothing and accessories and the need to store them. “With a growing client list, our inventory is growing too.”

She also told them about her plan for a studio where clients could come in and try on items and they’d show them how to accessorize different outfits, and even her thoughts about expanding into men’s styling.

Mr. Lauden listened with focused interest, nodding and asking more questions. “You have great vision,” he said. “You paint a very clear picture of what you want your business to be.”

“Thank you.” That probably meant she’d gotten carried away in her enthusiasm and talked way too much. “I, uh, hope this doesn’t sound rude, but…do you work with Brad?”

He smiled. His eyes crinkled at the corners appealingly. “Yes.”

Her breath got stuck in her chest. He was
so
attractive. Her entire body tingled at the nearly physical pull she felt toward him.

“I’ll let you know as soon as I hear from the other interested client,” Brad spoke up.

She’d pretty much forgotten he was there. His boss—she assumed Mr. Lauden was the boss since Brad had only addressed him by his last name, not his first—completely overshadowed Brad with his air of authority and assurance. She looked now at Brad. “Thanks. I appreciate it. And thanks for taking the time to show me the space anyway.”

With a last lingering look at the empty rooms, she walked out, Brad turning out the lights and locking the door behind them.

“Where is your company located currently?” Mr. Lauden asked.

She hesitated to answer. This was a learned caution. She knew he was just some leasing guy, but he reminded her too much of her ex-husband for her to be entirely comfortable giving out that information. On the other hand, it was information easily obtained by an Internet corporate registry search, so there wasn’t much point in hiding it. She told him the address.

He nodded. “Obviously you want a more upscale location if you’re having clients come to you.”

“Yes. Exactly. And since many of our clients are busy professional women, this would be a perfect location.”

They stopped in the foyer near the doors. She put on a businesslike smile and prepared to shake hands again. “Brad will be in touch with you soon,” Mr. Lauden said. “You can go back to the office, Brad.”

She blinked at his dismissal of the other man. Brad shook her hand with a smile and left the building.

“Are you sure your knee is okay?”

She turned back to Mr. Lauden, momentarily confused. “Oh. Yes. Of course.”

“You don’t need medical attention?”

She snorted. Then cringed. That wasn’t very ladylike. Or professional. “It’s a tiny scrape. A little Polysporin and a Band-Aid will take care of it. I hardly need to see a doctor.”

He nodded, eyes fastened on her with disturbing intensity. “Your pants are muddy. Send Brad the bill for dry cleaning them.” He frowned, his gaze dropping to take in her coat. “Your coat too.”

She sighed. She twisted to look down at her hip then brushed a hand over the smudge there. “Thanks for pointing that out. Makes me feel so professional.”

“I’m sorry you fell outside the door.”

“It’s fine.” She really just wanted to forget about this embarrassing little incident. Why did he keep going on about it?

Their eyes met. Sparks and heat flowed through her veins. Dear Lord, he was magnificent. But scary. She sucked in a breath. “If you work with Brad, then you must work for the company that owns the building. If you’re worried I’m going to sue, please don’t. It was nothing.”

He still stared at her. “Let me buy you a drink. Dinner.”

She jerked back at his unexpected invitation. “Uh. No. I mean, that’s not necessary.”

“Maybe not, but I want to.”

She took a step back. Jesus. This guy was coming on to her. Much as she was attracted to him, she wasn’t prepared for this. Or for him. The power and dominant intensity of him. She never wanted to be with a man like that again.

“Thank you,” she said firmly. “Again, not necessary. And I…I really have to get back to the office.”

Shit! She’d given him the address. What kind of ditz was she? Yes, she was blonde, and occasionally had blonde moments, but she wasn’t stupid.