Page 6 of Sweet Conviction

The intercom on my desk buzzes before I even take a step.

"You need to get your ass to the conference room," Jake informs me. "Riley will be here in five."

Shit, the meeting. I can't do it. Not now. I need to go after Tempest, convince her…what? That I'm not an asshole? That she wants to marry me? I don't fucking know.

"Cancel it," I bark.

"Cancel it?" Jake splutters. "What the fuck? You never cancel meetings."

"Jake, cancel the damn meeting," I growl impatiently. "Now."

"Fine," he groans. "But if the gorgeous woman who just ran out of your office has anything to do with this, I'm killing you myself. Riley is going to kick my ass for canceling at the last minute."

The intercom cuts off, and I exhale heavily. He's right. Riley is going to kick his ass for canceling last minute. And then she's going to hunt me down and kick mine.

My phone starts vibrating in my pocket before I can make it out of my door.

"Fuck!" I growl, yanking it out with more force than necessary. The whole goddamn world is conspiring against me, determined to keep me from going after Tempest.

"What?" I snap, putting it to my ear.

"Hey, boss," Carmine, my head of security, says cautiously. "Sorry to bother you, but, uh, Lena is MIA."

I pinch the bridge of my nose, my headache growing by leaps and bounds. Of course.Of fucking courseLena picked today of all days to run away from security again.

"How long has she been gone?" I ask wearily.

"Dorothy says her car wasn't here when she got here two hours ago."

"Son of a bitch." I pace the length of my office, frustration and worry crashing through me. Lena could be anywhere by now.

As desperate as I am to go after Tempest and demand answers, it's going to have to wait. I can't leave Lena out there alone. She may be twenty-four, but she's too innocent and trusting for her own good. She doesn't understand that there are people in the world who would hurt her simply because she has what they don't—light, laughter, innocence. Not to mention the fact that she's a fucking millionaire.

"I'll handle it," I tell Carmine grimly before ending the call.

But as soon as I track down my wayward cousin, Tempest and I are going to have a reckoning. I don't believe for a minute that she's running just because I'm an asshole. There's something more, I know there is. I saw the way she looked at me. I saw the sadness in her eyes. She wants this—wants me.

And dammit all, I want the same fucking thing. Her. Not her company, not a merger.Her.

Chapter Two

Tempest

Ithink I'm going to throw up or cry as I burst out of Dalton Grady's building into the bright early morning sunshine, stumbling on the sidewalk in my heels. I feel like someone just punched me in the stomach…or jolted me with one of those cattle prod things. The bustling sounds of downtown Nashville fade into static as the reality of what I've done crashes into me.

What was I thinking, throwing away my entire future like that? Oh, right, I wasn't thinking. I was just reacting to the devastating realization that the man I've dreamed about for years thinks marrying me is basically the same as a prison sentence.

I've known for years that Dalton was my future, and I accepted it. Love was never supposed to be in the cards for me. My father made it very clear from the time I was a little girl that my marriage would be a business arrangement. And then he set his sights on Grady Records. He wants a piece of that pie, and I'm supposed to make it happen.

When he first told me that Dalton was the man I was going to marry, I was nineteen. I've watched him from afar ever since. At first, it was simple curiosity about the man I was supposed to marry. And then curiosity became fascination. Somewhere along the way, it turned to infatuation. My feelings have only grown over the years. I've never met him until today, but somehow, inexplicably, I managed to fall for him anyway.

And he hates me.

Tears sting my eyes, and I blink rapidly, trying to hold them at bay. I'm not crying on a damn sidewalk in downtown Nashville because I was naive and stupid. No way.

I fumble for my phone and dial my cousin, Triton, with shaking fingers. Thank God he refused to let me run away to Nashville alone because I need him right now more than ever.

"Hey, baby cousin. What's up?" he answers on the third ring, his voice smooth as bourbon.

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