She knew she’d just promised to keep a big, ugly secret from everyone, but the moment Brenna rose from her chair, she planned on making a beeline to Kelly. She could trust Kelly. And she had to tell somebody or she’d never survive this.

Yet as she exited Jenkins’ office, eyes cast toward the floor, her gaze fell on a pair of masculine black boots, small silver buckles on the sides. She stopped, looked up slowly, and found none other than Damon Andros standing before her. Her blood ran cold even as her body tingled with unadulterated lust. Except for the blood running cold part, because of the impending lie, it was her usual reaction to him.

Of course, she’d learned to push that down. Because it only made sense. Every woman in the office—or on the planet, for that matter—went gaga when Damon Andros walked into a room, all sexy ripped jeans and vintage T-shirts, his wavy black hair brushing his shoulders, and his dark eyes looking like a place where you could easily drown. There was no point in wallowing in it, so she’d simply learned to look away, not let herself get lost in that intense brown gaze, not let herself imagine how it would feel to be pressed against that bulge behind his zipper.

And even after three years, she barely knew him. He worked from home—or from local clubs, or various scouting locations—only stopping in once every week or so to meet with Jenkins behind a closed door. He didn’t come to office happy hours or luncheons or Christmas parties—he just sauntered in, all rock star hot and confident, scarcely glancing at her as he went by. Of course, she usually got a short, not-unfriendly “Hey.” Which is what he gave her now—as her eyes met his and her panties dampened.

“Hey,” she said in return, trying to hide her reaction.

“He’s in?” He motioned behind her to Jenkins’ office.

“Yeah.” It was the most complex answer she could muster.

He gave a short nod in response and headed inside, shutting the door.

And she stopped, turning to stare at the slab of wood that had just separated them, her heart still beating too fast.

Soon, very little would separate them. She was going to spend a week in close quarters with the man—Damon Andros, Greek god—soaking up his knowledge, practically breathing his very breath.

And probably lusting. A lot.

Because it would be way harder to push it down when she was with him all the time, looking at that gorgeous face, wanting to run her fingers through that soft mane of hair.

But she’d just have to be professional about it. And sometimes, when you knew a guy was that completely out of your range, it was just easier—healthier—not to think of him sexually at all and concentrate on the business at hand. In this case, stealing his job without his knowledge.

She cringed, remembering the deal she’d just made with the devil—and found it surprisingly effortless to think of her boss that way. Then she made the intended beeline to Kelly’s office down the hall, where she was now the one closing the door.

“Did you get the scoop?” Kelly glanced up from her computer screen, still looking model-perfect in her fitted red suit, her blond hair swept up on top of her head.

Brenna blinked nervously in reply. “Oh yeah, I got it.”

“Then spill.”

“It’s a secret.”

“But you’re going to tell me anyway, right?”

Brenna leaned closer. “Just swear you won’t tell anyone, Kel. Jenkins would probably fire me if this gets out—from both my jobs.” She rolled her eyes at the craziness of it all.

Kelly raised her eyebrows. “Both?”

Brenna let out a breath, then sat down on the corner of Kelly’s tidy desk and told her everything, concluding with her impending trip to Vegas, on which she would be leaving in only four ridiculously short days.

To her vast surprise, when she finished Kelly was smiling. “Problem solved,” her friend said. “Instant lover. Just add lust and stir.”

Brenna’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“You heard me. Damon is the perfect lover for you. No fuss, no muss, no long or messy attachment. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. It’s the perfect fuck.”

Brenna blinked again, barely knowing which aspect of this to tackle first. “Okay, to start with, Damon Andros has barely ever even looked me in the eye—so I’m pretty sure he’s not dying to get me into bed. And to end with—are you even listening to me? Jenkins intends for me to baldly lie to Damon for an entire week during which I will be with him during every waking second! That’s seven full days and nights of lying.”

Kelly appeared unfazed. “Let’s focus on the nights. And on the fucking, not the lying. Because trust me, with a few tweaks, he will be dying to get you into bed. You’re a very lucky girl, Brenna,” her friend said with a confident smile, as if this were a done deal. “You get to have down and dirty sex with Damon Andros, something most women only dream about. I mean, doesn’t the man just make your pussy quiver?”

Brenna simply slapped her hand to her forehead. “You’re crazy. No, wait—you’re driving me crazy. I need your help with a moral dilemma and all you can talk about is sex.”

But it was as if Kelly was in her own little world now. “I’m taking you shopping this weekend. Block out all of Saturday and plan to get an early start at the Third Street Promenade. Wear your most supportive bra. Or, actually, never mind. We’ll get new bras—you’re going to need some very hot lingerie. And I’ll wrangle you an appointment with my hairdresser. He’s always booked solid, but for me, he’ll squeeze.”

Brenna merely sighed, exhausted even though it wasn’t yet 9 A.M. “I can’t afford your hairdresser. And what’s wrong with my clothes?”

“Nothing. They’re great for sending out that I’m-going-through-a-bad-divorce-leave-me-alone message. Not so much, though, for the do-me message.”

Brenna sucked in her breath. “I don’t want to be done. And even if I did, Damon would not be the guy.” He was totally hot, but just as totally out of her league. Out of her universe. To the point of being intimidating. She’d be embarrassed to even express interest in him since surely he’d find it laughable. Or maybe pathetic.

Then she shook her head, thoroughly exasperated. “But to get back to the actual point—I’m not concerned about sex. I don’t need a man, remember? What I’m concerned about is…this is sort of like I’m stealing his job. And lying to him about it—to get him to help me steal his job. It’s despicable.”

Kelly shrugged, finally shifting her focus to the problem at hand. “Maybe, maybe not. It’s all in your perspective. On one hand, he brought this on himself. It’s not that he’s really doing anything other people aren’t, but he’s failed to use even a modicum of discretion and now it’s coming back to bite him in the ass. On the other, you are going to be participating in a big lie that benefits you, which does make you guilty as charged.” Then she leaned slightly forward, narrowing her gaze on Brenna. “That said, we’re talking about a dream job here, and Jenkins wants you for the part. It’s an enormous opportunity, and you’d be a fool to pass it up. So that’s why you need to get your head on straight about this. You have to commit to the lie, commit to the sin.”

Brenna drew in her breath, chest tightening. “I hate lying.” Now that she thought about it, it had been a lot easier to listen to Kelly’s plans for an imaginary seduction than to remember she was going to have to lie to a guy who’d done nothing wrong to her.

“How about this?” Kelly suggested. “How about we don’t think of it as lying? Instead, we’ll think of it as…ambition. Going after the brass ring. Getting something you really want. Because as mild-mannered as you are, my dear Brenna, I can see it in your eyes already. You want this job—bad.”

God help her, she did. She loved music. She’d come to love it even more since landing at Blue Night. To help determine what people listened to, and to have the power to give musicians a real shot at stardom, at making their dreams come true—it would be amazing. And already she could taste the thrill—and the fulfillment—it would bring her. “I just wish I didn’t feel so guilty about how I’m going to get it.”

Again, Kelly shrugged. “Look at it this way. Where better to do something wrong than Sin City?”