Seductive Secrets (The Debonair Series Book 3)
Dedication
When you fall, get back up. It’s the only way to keep moving forward.
To you, my reader, thank you for your unwavering support and love.
Copyright © 2018 TC Matson
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permissions of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at authortcmatson@gmail.com.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to people, whether living or deceased is purely coincidental. Names, places, and characters are figments of the author’s imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously. The author recognizes the trademarks and copyrights of all registered products and works mentioned within this work.
Cover Design by: Sara Eirew
Editing by: Amanda Brown
Table of Contents
Dedication
Copyright © 2018 TC Matson
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
More from TC Matson
To My Readers
About the Author
Connect with TC Matson
Max
“You’re thinking about impregnating her, aren’t you?” Zach, my best friend and sister’s husband, asks with a chuckle as he steps beside me. “You’ve hawked her since the moment she walked through the door.”
I blow a laugh, shaking my head before casting a glance to him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Amused, his brown eyes narrow as he regards me like I’m an idiot. His square jaw shifts as a sly grin appears. “So, Jade said the seller finally settled on your offer. Congratulations.”
I tip my chin appreciatively. Winning that land was fucking brutal. I’ve been in one hell of a bidding war for several months with someone who was just as eager to obtain it. And of course, the seller was enjoying every bit of it. With multiple counter offers and neither of us backing down, it drove the original sales price up, putting dollar signs in the seller’s eyes. But I wasn’t giving in. Not without one hell of a fight. The land adjoins to the back of the winery with close to eighty acres. I watched it for years, patiently waiting for someone to post it for sale and the moment they did, I pounced. Unfortunately, someone else did too. But I’m a relentless bastard with deep pockets.
“Thanks,” I say and then take a swallow of my bourbon. “Once everything is finalized and I get the paperwork, I’ll get with you to figure out some plans.”
He nods but something grabs his attention over my shoulder. A deep fondness gathers at the edges of his eyes and he grins a little stupidly. “My wife has reappeared, and I need to get reacquainted with her lips. I’ll catch up with you later.”
I groan quietly as he walks off. They’ve been together for a few years and married for a year, but it doesn’t make it any easier hearing that my best friend and sister screw around. I found out my sister was pregnant the exact same moment I found out my best friend of ten years had secretly been fucking her… for years. That was the slap to the face heard around the world and it knocked me flat on my ass.
I’ve never been so filled with anger in my entire life.
I met Zach my sophomore year in high school in detention and we quickly became friends. Therefore, I knew all his secrets and how he ran game on girls. I watched him blow through them until he got with Tiffany, his high school sweetheart, who was a total bitch and not an ounce good for him. Sure a few girls I knew caught Zach’s attention, but Tiffany grabbed him by the balls and he was whipped. Or so I thought. Little did I know he was fucking my sister too.
When they came clean, I could’ve murdered him. I wanted to. Felt that shit in my bones. I pictured it. I dreamed of ripping his jugular out of his throat and burying him deep in the woods. But I was stuck at a virtual crossroad—he truly loved my sister and she was pregnant with his baby.
Eventually, I caved, but it took a while to find it in my heart to forgive him and to get over my hostility. We didn’t miss a beat as friends. After all, he was proving himself worthy to everyone.
“The turnout is great,” Derrek, one of my brilliant winemakers slaps my shoulder.
He’s an older man, rough skin and deep wrinkles, with trimmed brown hair littered with gray slicked to the side.
“It is,” I reply.
Once a year, I open the winery to the public and host a fundraiser for Second Wings, a nonprofit organization that raises funds for families whose children have experienced accidents and now suffer from physical or mental repercussions, regardless of the severity.
After saving Jade from drowning in the icy waters, she suffered from horrendous nightmares and PTSD. Although we didn’t need the financial assistance, finding help for her mental stability was horrific. Mom used to cry in her bathroom. Dad would pace pulling at the ends of his hair. It seemed like doctors only wanted to prescribe medicines that zombied her out rather than helped psychologically. Finding a psychiatrist who worked with children proved difficult.
Several years ago, I stumbled upon this nonprofit organization. They assist finding the right kind of help, which takes a lot of the stresses off the parents. While meeting with the president and board of directors, we collaborated about organizing an annual event sponsored by the winery. For the last five years, it’s been very successful. Helps that I have some very wealthy attendees who stop by.
Crimson red flashes in my peripheral, ripping my view her way. She’s short with perfect dips and curves. Her expression is bright, her smile light and carefree. Her light brown hair drifts past her shoulders and rests over her breasts.
She’s captivatingly beautiful.
As if she can feel the same magnetic pull, her gaze flicks to me, causing a thrilling sting to race down my spine. Charming gratification pulls up the corners of my lips as I hold her stare. The room slips away, voices and sounds diminishing to a muffled hum. It’s her and me and blurry images of ghostly guests as she bites her lip coquettishly, keeping her smile and eyes on me. My body comes alive, warming with want.
The brunette who has been keeping her company all evening leans over and says something, robbing me of her gaze. Emptiness weighs my body down. The thrilling sting I felt earlier begins to burn for her.
“What do you think?” Derrek asks.
I blink to him. I’d forgotten he was even here. I shake my head. “Run it by me Monday when my head is in the game.” I feign my lack of attention.
“I can do that.”
Another slap on my back startles the shit out of me and almost causes me to spill my drink. I steal a glance to the woman who has me captivated only to find her watching me giggling. I offer a crooked grin.
&nbs
p; “Maxwell. You do a fine job, sir,” Cliff, the CEO of Zeta Composites and the biggest, boasting, pompous douchebag says. He’s a weasel—does business dirty as hell—and even looks like one with dark and seedy eyes, a narrow mouth and thin teeth. I’ve never understood how his company thrives with the way he does business.
I nod politely, hating how he always feels the need to seek me out. “As always.”
“It’s been awhile. Hell, this is the first time I’ve seen the place since you’ve expanded. It looks great. Must be doing something right.” He nudges me with his bony as fuck elbow. “You’ve come a long way.” He wears a smile as he talks, but his tone does nothing to hide the aversion.
“It was time for an upgrade,” I reply in monotone.
His laugh is hoarse, rough like he’s smokes too much. He slaps my arm again and this time my drink sloshes. “I’m going to mingle. I see a few people here I’d like to discuss business with. If I don’t see you again, I donated five grand. I’m sure I’ll be the top donor again. Send me a case of wine for my charitable contributions.” He winks like an asshole and strolls away.
After he leaves, I excuse myself from Derrek and move to the edge of the room in hopes to not be bombarded again. Out of view from everyone, I’m able to watch the one person who interests me.
She sips her martini and then laughs at something one of the two women she’s with says. My body aches to move to her, to feel that laugh wash over my skin. My muscles are on fire to be close to her.
She glances at me hidden on the edge and blesses me with another wide smile. My body moves on its own accord as my feet start toward her. I weave around everyone, nodding politely while fighting the intensity of the magnetic pull. She arches her brow and leans into her friend, whispering something while her view stays glued to me. The brunette tosses a quick glance my way and then my fantasy begins to saunter toward me.
My strides are longer than hers. I’m focusing not to take off into a sprint to erase the distance between us. The closer we get, the wider and more beautiful her smile gets.
“Intriguing way to stalk, Mr. Lauder,” she says, her tone sweet and impish.
“Interesting way to say hello. Call me Max.” I lay my charm on thick.
“Avery,” she replies.
With high cheekbones, a petite nose, and lush lips, she’s even more beautiful up close. I kiss the smooth skin on the back of her hand. “You’re jaw-dropping, Avery. Everyone here dims with you in their presence.”
She titters. “And you have quite the charming way with words. Is this normally how you pick up women?”
Amused, I arch my brow. “Normally over my shoulder, but something tells me if I tried, you’d kick my ass.”
Her full lips slash up her cheeks. “A caveman who is a gentleman or vice versa?”
It causes me to hum a chuckle. “A gentleman with marvelous ways.”
“So I’ve heard.”
I resist faltering my smile and keep a straight face. My reputation, although mostly inflated and erroneous by the press, never seems to remain in the quiet. I’m not what they say I am, well, not completely. Although my business keeps me in the public eye, Easton’s relationship with Penelope Elliots, the daughter of Lux Hotels’ CEO, put me in the gossip columns. After their public breakup, reporters continued to follow up. And who was always beside him hitting the bars? Me.
“Are you enjoying yourself?”
“I am. I’ve had a pretty shitty week. I needed this.”
“I’m glad to be of service.” I smile. “Would you like a tour?”
Although her eyes flicker with excitement, she shakes her head. “I’ll have to take a raincheck. I’m not sure when my ride will decide to leave.” She pans the room, roaming from the walls to the ceiling. “From what I’ve seen, it’s phenomenal. Very beautiful.”
My hopes to get her alone dwindle, so I try another angle to get her to myself. “Would you like to dance?”
She looks around us with confusion. “There isn’t anyone else dancing.”
“We’re not everyone else.” I clutch her hand gently and guide us to the edge of the room and into the corridor where the music from the speakers still reach. Plucking the glass from her hand, I set it on the stone window ledge before wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her closer.
Electricity shoots through me and causes my toes to curl and my teeth to clench. The attraction between us is powerful, bring me to my knees excruciatingly appealing.
Without taking her eyes off me, she says. “Maybe this is the reason no one else is dancing. Your dance floor is very secluded and outside of the main party.”
I grin. “There weren’t any plans for dancing. It’s a mingling event.”
“Yet here we are,” she breathes.
“We are,” I say as the prurient ache sizzles in me.
“Do you always dance with strangers, Max?”
“Only the ones who fascinate the hell out of me.”
She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and my dick feels it. I bend, placing my mouth beside her ear. Instantly the scent of her rosemary and mint shampoo intertwined with flowers overcomes me. “I’m becoming madly jealous of your lip,” I say low and hoarsely and then take another inhale of her scent, dragging my nose just below her earlobe.
Her breath hitches and I pull her body closer to mine. Her stomach rubs against my hard-on straining my slacks as we sway slightly to the music.
“Seems other things are quite jealous too,” she whispers peering up to me from under her lashes.
I look into her salacious eyes. “You’re fucking enticing.”
I’m lost in her gaze—a striking gray with slight hints of greens and darker blues exploding around her pupil. It’s like a summer storm brewing in the distance meeting the afternoon sun and carrying in a mystery with a side of sheer beauty.
Her hand resting on my chest is setting fire to my skin—desire igniting the burn under my clothes. The urge to kiss her, to feel her lips against mine, causes a torrid ache. I lean in about to seal the deal and alleviate some of the hunger within me when…
“Excuse me,” a male voice says, stealing away my moment and shattering our trance. “Mr. Lauder, sir.”
Fuck. Me.
Avery’s body tenses, and reluctantly, I release her.
Thomas, one of my waiters, stands with a ton of apologies in his eyes. “A Mr. Morrison has requested you.”
“Grab Jade, would you please?”
He frowns and shakes his head. “She’s with him, but he’s insisting on talking with you.”
I stretch my neck. “I’ll be right there.” I take a calming breath before blinking back to Avery. “Stay. Right here. I’ll be right back.”
Her brows raise along with her lips.
I point to the floor. “Right here. Don’t move. I want to finish this dance,” I demand.
Against my will, I walk away from the woman I’m impatiently dying to taste.
Who the fuck is Mr. Morrison and why the fuck can’t my sister handle this?
As I approach, Jade looks irked, mad wrinkles bunching between her brows and forcing them to slant angrily over her eyes.
“Mr. Morrison?” I stick my hand out to the man beside my sister.
“Mr. Lauder.” He shoves his hand into mine and squeezes, as if he’s trying to intimidate me. “I’d like to order fifty cases of your Cabernet, but I’d like to discuss price. Maybe since I’m purchasing bulk we can settle on a number that makes us both happy.”
Jade’s jaw muscles protrude as she grits her teeth behind her smile. She doesn’t have to deal with male chauvinism often, but when she does, it not only pisses her off, it lights my fucking ass on fire. Some men treat her differently, refusing to talk to her about anything, mostly prices.
Out of pure ugly spite, I grin. “Yes, sir. We can discuss prices.” Mr. Morrison smiles. “Jade normally handles that. She can help you with anything you need.”
Mr. Morrison’s features harden, and
his smile slips away. “With all due respect, I was hoping to discuss this with you, the owner. Man to man, if you know what I mean.”
I keep my smile cordial even though rage is purging. “Mr. Morrison. In case you missed her last name, Jade is also a Lauder. This is a family business, one where my entire family is highly involved. I assure you she’s capable of providing you with expert service, from selection to pricing. She’s able to take care of all your wine needs.” I lean closer, narrowing my eyes. “I’d start with an apology since you’ve blatantly insulted her. I’ll stand behind whatever decision she makes.” I straighten back up. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I was interrupted.”
Triumph is written all over Jade’s face as I walk away. Man to man… My sister knows the ropes and can handle just about everything I can.
Avery’s glass is gone and so is she when I return. I spin back to the crowd scanning for her, for her friends, for the red of her dress, but she’s nowhere. Perturbation rides along my quick breaths as I search for the short angel who has disappeared. I weave around everyone, peeking above heads, over shoulders, through the cracks of bodies. My heart is thrumming in my chest.
I’m standing just outside the entrance, searching the parking lot when Zach cackles. “I’m assuming by the annoyed panic on your face, your dumbass didn’t get her number.”
“Your assumptions would be correct, dammit.” I crane my neck toward him. “Don’t you have anything better to do than stalk my every move?”
I walk away, striding to the bar to pour myself another damn drink.
“And miss you failing? Hell no, I don’t.” He leans his elbow on the bar looking like a smug asshole. “You’re getting rusty since Easton and I aren’t able to keep you sharp.”
My smirk matches his. “There’s no rust in my pipe, asshole. I got pulled away by some dickhead who thought Jade couldn’t do the job.”
His face falls, fear washing over his eyes. “Fuck. Please tell me she kept her cool.”
“She did, but I’m certain he isn’t getting what he wants though.”