“Thank you for coming to my rescue,” Maddie said.

      Trey spread his hand through her hair, coppery waves spilling over his fingertips, soft and smooth and silky. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, Maddie,” he whispered. “I’m gonna need a better thank-you.”

      Maddie slipped her hand inside his shirt, stroking his flesh until his skin sizzled. Then she lifted her head and gave him the best thank-you of his life, a long, hot, sexy kiss that knocked the breath out of him.

      “Was that better, Trey?”

      “Better,” he croaked, barely catching his breath.

      Maddie stared deeply into his eyes and every shred of willpower he could muster wasn’t enough for the intoxicating look of desire she cast him. “Ah, Maddie,” he whispered, brushing his lips to her ear, “how am I supposed to keep my hands off you now?”

      Playboy’s Ruthless Payback

      LAURA WRIGHT

      Like Lightning

      CHARLENE SANDS

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      PLAYBOY’S RUTHLESS PAYBACK

      by

      Laura Wright

       LAURA WRIGHT

      has spent most of her life immersed in the world of acting, singing and competitive ballroom dancing. But when she started writing romance, she knew she’d found her true calling! Born and raised in Minneapolis, Laura has also lived in New York, Ohio and Wisconsin. Currently, she has set down her bags in Los Angeles, California, and, although the town can be a little crazy at times, Laura is grateful to have her theatrical production manager husband, two young children and three dogs to keep her sane. During her downtime, Laura loves to paint, play peek-a-boo with her little boy, go to the cinema with her husband and read with her daughter. She loves hearing from her readers and can be reached at PO Box 57523, Sherman Oaks, CA 91413, USA.

      Dear Reader,

      What would you do if someone set out to ruin your reputation? Take down your business? Destroy everything you’ve worked so hard to achieve? Is your blood boiling yet?

      These are the questions I wanted to have my hero, Mac Valentine, face. I wanted to see how far he would go, how ruthless he would be in destroying the man who set out to destroy him.

      Honestly, I’ve felt Mac’s anger – that roaring sound of injustice that rings in your ears every time you think about how you’ve been screwed over. Maybe you have, too, and you want your payback. But after you have it, is the satisfaction of making that person pay enough? Does it heal you?

      Let me know what you think about Mac and Olivia’s story. And, if you want to share your story, I’d love to hear it. E-mail me at [email protected].

      All my best,

       Laura

      To Daniel, thank you for seeing me through

      this book. You’re the best!

      One

      “Congresswoman Fisher is on line two, Derek Mead is still holding on line three and Owen Winston is on line four.”

      MacValentine relaxed in his chair. His executive assistant, Claire, stood in the doorway of his modern, chrome-and-leather penthouse office, an expectant look on her grandmotherly face. She had been with him for eight years and she was somewhat of a voyeur when it came to watching him work. She especially enjoyed moments like this when he was about to crush someone. She thought of him as a ruthless, unflinching businessman, and on more than one occasion he’d heard her refer to him as a black-haired, black-eyed demon who held each one of his thirty-five employees to incredibly high standards.

      Mac grinned. The woman was right. The only thing she’d left out was that if any one of those employees fell short of his expectations, if they didn’t strive for the goal of making MCV Wealth Enhancement Corp. the first choice of not only the Minneapolis area, but also the entire Midwest, they were sent packing.

      Behind her black frames, Claire’s eyes glistened like a child waiting for dessert to be served. “Mr. Winston says he is returning your call, sir.”

      Mac palmed his BlackBerry. “Tell both the congresswoman and Mead that I’ll return their calls. This won’t take long.”

      “Yes, sir.” Claire hovered in the doorway.

      “And close the door when you go,” Mac said evenly. “Today is not a school day.”

      “Of course, sir.” Looking thoroughly disappointed, Claire left the room.

      Mac pressed the call button and leaned back in his chair. “Owen.”

      “That’s right,” came the irritated voice on the other end of the line. “I’ve been holding for longer than I care to. What can I do for you?”

      Satisfaction rolled through Mac at the slight tremor in the older man’s voice. He turned his chair toward the wall of windows behind him and stared out at the view of the Minneapolis skyline. “I won’t waste my time or yours asking why you did what you did.”

      “Excuse me?”

      “Or force you to admit it,” said Mac. “Attempting to ruin the reputation of a competing firm happens quite a bit in our game. Mostly with the older set. You guys get tired, lose your edge and the clients start looking elsewhere.”

      Mac could practically see Owen’s face darkening with rage. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Valentine—”

      “You can’t help it,” Mac continued coldly. “You see these hotshots coming up the ranks with cooler heads and sharper minds and you start to worry that you’re not going to be taken seriously anymore. And when you realize it’s only a matter of time before you’re forced out of business, you panic.” Mac leaned forward and said without emotion, “You panicked, Owen.”

      “This is ridiculous,” Owen sputtered. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

      Mac continued as if he hadn’t heard. “A respectable man would recognize his limitations and retire, maybe play a round of golf in the morning followed by a nice nap in the afternoon.”

      “A respectable businessman, Valentine.” Owen laughed bitterly. “A respectable businessman wouldn’t give preferential treatment, key information or tips to certain privileged clients. A respectable man wouldn’t give that information based on their client’s long legs and large breasts.”

      It was the accusation of a desperate man, total BS, but the