"The ballbreaker," she said as she walked over to his desk, parked her hands on the wood, and stared him in the eyes. "You thought I was a ballbreaker. You thought I was cutthroat. You thought I screwed you over. Does that about sum it up, Holmes?" she asked, completely in control, even as she broiled inside.

He nodded, like he'd been caught stealing. "Because I sent you the idea," he said, as if he were on the witness stand under cross-examination.

"You did. You did send me an idea. And it was a good idea. It also was not an original idea, but that's okay. I don't require original ideas. But do not act as if your idea was patented. You would not have been the first hotel chain to offer sexy perks in the rooms," she said, rattling off the names of a litany of hotels that featured late-night menus. "Yet, you are acting like you brought me the prototype for the next iPhone and I stole it from you because I didn't respond to your email right away. The reality is this-I am a busy woman. I didn't read your email for a week. And during that time, I struck a deal with Nate Harper, a deal I am sticking to. And you had the nerve to try to turn a line-one line-in an email to you into some sort of character assassination of me," she said, pointing at her chest as she continued to deliver her speech, "but here's what you left out. The parts where I said we should find ways to work together in the future. The parts where I said I had an idea for you. You want to know what that idea was?"

He nodded meekly, the color draining from his face. "Yes," he squeaked.

"I know people in business. I know lots of people in the business world. I have good relationships with those people because I don't screw anyone over. I was going to introduce you to my friends at Good Vibes because I liked your idea," she said, savoring the wince on his face when she said Good Vibes. It was the wince of a man who'd been bested, who'd lost out from his own hubris. "But do you think I will now?"

"Umm," he began.

She stabbed a finger against his desk. "That's right. The answer is no. And it's not because I'm cutthroat. It's not because I'd do anything for a deal. It's because I care about the people I work with and the products I sell. And you, Ethan, do not. But maybe I will reach out to the Pierson. Maybe the Pierson would like to carry The Wild One. Because from what I know about management at the Pierson, they don't play these kind of bullshit games." Then she paused, took a deep breath, and hit him hard with her final words. "By the way, do you know what they say about this woman in business?"

He shook his head meekly.

"I'll tell you what they say. That I'm fair and honest. And I'll tell you what I say to people who aren't. And it's this. You lost out. Because no one fucks with me, my company, or my family."

She turned on her heels and marched out.

Five hours later, the board meeting ended and his Skype call was finished, and Nate couldn't wait to track down that slimy fucker and give him a piece of his mind. Admittedly, there'd been a moment in his meeting when he'd doubted his ability to judge people, but then he reminded himself that he hadn't let Ethan far enough into his life for the man to do true harm. Ethan wasn't a best buddy who'd turned on him. Ethan was no Bryan or Jack in his life. He was merely a colleague that Nate had tried to give a small bit of help too, and the guy had turned out to have one hell of a chip on his shoulder. Nate was not going to beat himself up over having had a few drinks with him in the past.

He was, however, going to let the bastard know not to pull that shit with him or Casey ever again. The elevator shot him down to the lobby, and he tapped his foot, anxious for the doors to spread open. When he reached the lobby, his eyes were treated to his favorite sight.

"Want to know what I've been up to?" Casey asked invitingly, as if she had a naughty secret.

"I do."

"I paid a visit to Mr. Holmes," she said then proceeded to narrate in fantastic detail, acting out the priceless moments of her encounter with Ethan. "And then I marched out, and it was awesome," she said, and the expression on her face was one of pure victory.

"That's because no one messes with my badass woman," he said, then pulled her in for a quick kiss. "And to think, I was just going to take care of that myself."

Her eyes widened for a moment, and she turned starkly serious. "You don't mind that I did already?"

"Why would I mind? We are a team, aren't we?"

"We are," she said, her grin returned, lighting up her face. She was magnetic when she smiled. My God, had he ever stood a chance at resisting falling in love with her?

"Hey, was that our first big test?" he asked.

"You mean besides the time that we split up and were so damned stubborn we could barely admit how we felt for each other?" she said playfully.

He nodded. "Yeah, besides that one."

She laughed. "Then I'd say it was and we passed with flying colors."

"Damn. We're good together."

"Want to go get some Chinese takeout and drip hot candle wax between my breasts?"

He yanked her closer, giving her the answer in his instant arousal. "Always. But I need an hour. There's something I have to do. I'll meet you at your place."

She dropped her lips in a pout, and he whispered in her ear. "Wait for me. I want you good and ready."

"I'm always ready for you."

Later that evening, he knocked on Casey's neighbor's door. The dark-haired plastic surgeon answered and flashed a quick smile. "You all set?"

"I am. I'll be back in three minutes," he said, and handed Khashi a large, wrapped object. The man set it down in the entryway of his apartment, then shut the door.

Nate adjusted the gym bag on his shoulder, then rapped his knuckles on Casey's door. When she opened it, his heart thumped hard against his chest. There was nothing inherently unique about her outfit tonight-she had on a short skirt and a tank top, with her hair high in a ponytail. It didn't matter. She was always stunning to him, and every time he saw her she took his breath away. He thanked the lucky stars that he had a sister like Kat and a friend like Jack, because those two had talked sense into him when he'd needed it most and made sure he didn't miss his chance with the woman he adored.

"I have a gift for you. It's a big one," he said, dropping his bag on the floor.

Her eyes lit up with excitement, the sapphire blue in them sparkling brighter. "Where is it? What is it?"

"Do you trust me?"

She parked her hands on her hips, and cocked her head to the side. "What kind of question is that? Haven't we already established twenty million times over that I do?"

"Then I need you to put on this blindfold," he said, reaching into a side pocket of his bag and brandishing a black silky piece of fabric. "Consider this sensory deprivation. I'm not sure we ever had that on our original lesson plan. But it's on our new curriculum."

She arched an eyebrow, looking doubtful. "Okay. I'll do it."

He took her hand, led her to the couch, then asked her to sit down. As she settled in, he pressed the fabric over her eyes and tied it behind her head. He grabbed her phone and popped her ear buds into her ears. Then he called up her newest playlist, and turned up music so she couldn't hear.

When he returned to Khashi's apartment, the man handed over the gift and Nate thanked him. He grabbed a hammer from inside his gym bag, along with some nails, and set to work.

Casey blasted an upbeat song from her friend Jane Black, the music distracting her from whatever Nate was up to. She didn't know if she'd find him naked doing a striptease when he took off this blindfold. She considered that image for a moment. She liked that image a lot. But a striptease wasn't his style. For now, she'd simply have to wait patiently.

Soon, she felt his fingers on her cheek, his soft touch that melted her. He removed the ear buds, unfastened the blindfold and let it fall to her neck. She drew a sharp intake of air, then blinked several times. She was sure she was seeing things. There was no way that could be on her wall. She pointed, repeatedly, opening her mouth, but no words came out. She was like a fish trying to breathe above water.

Her collection had grown, and her wall of kisses now featured a man and a woman, caught in a rainstorm, gazing at the sky as big, buoyant raindrops fell. She stood and whispered, as if she were in church, "Is that it?"

He nodded, a huge grin in his face. "It's the Miller Valentina you wanted."

With quiet, careful steps she walked to the wall, raising her hand when she reached the painting, but not touching it, merely coming close. Her fingers tingled, and she held her breath. Astonishment unfurled inside her as she gazed at the work of art she had longed for that evening in London. The piece that she'd craved, but had lost out on because she couldn't resist stealing away for a private moment of bliss with this man.

"How?" she asked, and her voice was comprised purely of wonder.

The corner of his lips quirked up. "Jack's been working with some European companies investing in high-end items, like art. He made some calls to Sotheby's and found out who'd bought the painting. I called the guy, and made him an offer."

Her eyes widened and excitement took off inside her like a rocket. He had done this. He'd really done this. "I want to kiss it," she said, staring at the painting in awe. "But I want to kiss you more. This is the most amazing thing anyone has done for me." She cupped his cheeks in her hands, and locked eyes with him. His stunning amber eyes were full of love. "You gave me a painting."

He nodded happily. "I gave you a painting," he echoed.

"But it's not just any painting. It's The Big Love."

"That's what you've given me," he said softly, reverently, and she melted from head to toe, her skin sizzling, her heart igniting, her body shouting and cheering with a gleeful kind of abandon.

"I have a gift for you too, but it might seem kind of tiny now."

"Size doesn't matter," he said, and her eyes drifted to his pants.

"I beg to differ. Your size does matter, and it's just the size I want."

"Well, that size matters. Obviously."

"Stay here," she said, and walked to the kitchen, grabbed her box of fortune cookies, and brought them to Nate.

"Aren't we supposed to have these after dinner?"

She gestured for him to move it along. "Dessert comes first."

He opened the box, and found the two fortune cookies that she'd special ordered. "They're just fortune cookies," she said, suddenly feeling like her gift was tiny. She hadn't known that he was bringing her a work of art tonight. She'd simply intended to give him a sweet little something. That was all. "But I had them specially made. Open them."

"Both?"

"Yes."

He took out the first one, cracked it open, and removed the strip of paper. "Now is the time to try something new," he said, reading off the fortune. He looked at her, crinkled his brow, then snapped a finger. "That was your fortune the night we had Chinese. After I blindfolded you."

"Among other things," she said, gesturing to her breasts.

He smiled widely. "I'll happily do that again. And if memory serves, you wanted to give me a tattoo right here," he said, tapping his fingers to his chest.

"I did, and I still do. And if you open the other one too you'll find out what it would say if I inked you."

He snapped open the second cookie, letting the next fortune fall out. "Your fondest dreams will come true this year," he said, reading out loud. He set down the cookies on the coffee table, and she wrapped her arms around his firm waist and tipped her chin up to look at him.

"Remember how you thought our fortunes were mixed up? You had the fortune 'now is the time to try something new,' but you said it was mine?"

"I remember."

"But I don't actually think they were mixed up after all. I think the right fortune went to the right person. You did learn something new. You learned to trust again. With me," she said, and a flurry of pride and joy spread through her chest that she had been the one who could show him that love and commitment didn't have to turn sour.

He brushed the back of his fingertips against her cheek. "I did learn that. You showed me that."

"And my fortune was that my fondest dream will come true," she said, leaning into his hand, to the tenderness of his touch.

"So I guess that wasn't for me? It was for you?" he asked quietly. "Why?"

"Because my dream was to have a love like this," she said, her heart bursting with joy. Though she'd told him countless times how she felt, she still believed that moments like this, that words and gestures and actions, were the foundation of any great love. And that's what he was to her. He'd shown her that she didn't have to change for any man, that the right man would love her for who she was.

"Did it come true?" he asked softly as she ran her fingertip across his chest, as if she were imprinting him with those words. Tattooing him as she nodded, and wrote on his skin. Your fondest dream will come true. She had marked him in her own way.

A quiet tear slid down her cheek. He pressed his lips gently to her skin, kissing it away.

"Do you have any idea what it's like to fall in love with your best friend?" she asked.

"As a matter of fact I do. I know exactly what that's like."

"What's it like?"

"It's like the big love."

EPILOGUE.

One year later . . .

A new Miller Valentina was for sale, and Casey intended to win it this time. Not that she'd lost out technically on the last one. She'd won, and she'd won big. Even so, she had her sights set on her favorite artist's latest work. She practically bounced in her chair with excitement because it was next on the evening's agenda at the sale of modern art at Sotheby's in New York. They sat in the front row. Nate had arranged with the auction house in advance for her to have these premiere seats. He'd told her it was a special gift to her to celebrate one year of being in business together.

It had been a busy year, and the partnership their companies struck had been a smashing success. The new product had delivered a fantastic return on investment for Joy Delivered, and for all its launch partners, from Sofia's to The Luxe and even to the loose-lipped Grant Abbot at Entice, who'd remained a solid business associate, especially because they'd connected recently about renewing their deal, and then got to chatting about Ethan. Grant had mentioned he'd talked to him once and had perhaps said more than he should about their partnership before it launched. Grant had a habit, it seemed, of opening his mouth too far, but Casey wasn't going to kick him to the curbside for that. She simply reminded him of the importance of privacy.

As for Ethan Holmes, he'd tucked his tail between his legs and had gone home to live with his parents after Victoria Hotels let him go due to a nervous breakdown. She was glad he was getting help for his issues, and that was all she thought about the man who'd tried to drive a rift between Nate and her.

Nate threaded his fingers through hers. He must have sensed her nerves, but also her coiled desire to nab the prize. "It's up next," he whispered, and she squeezed his fingers.

"Ouch," he said playfully as if she'd hurt him. She squeezed harder in response, and he planted a quick kiss on her cheek.

"And for the next item this evening we have the newest Miller Valentina," the auctioneer said as his assistants escorted the painting to the front of the room. Casey nearly groaned with lust for the painting. She wanted that beauty badly. "I shall start the bidding at-"

Then he stopped, brought his finger to his lips, and gazed at the ceiling. "Wait. That's not quite right."

Casey furrowed her brow. Auctioneers were always poised. This guy sounded as if he'd been thrown off his game.

"No. That's the wrong item. Take it back," he shouted, shooing away the painting dramatically. His assistants obeyed. Casey's jaw dropped and she turned to Nate. "What was that all about?"

He simply shrugged and held up his hands.

"Now bring out the correct item," the man said, and a few seconds later, one of the assistants returned with a small maroon box.

Casey pointed and whispered. "Now that's definitely not on the catalogue tonight."

The auctioneer flipped open the box, and it was almost like being blinded. The stone was so bright.