Her half-empty martini glass sat wearing a smudge of her red lipstick. She was heading for the door, and I was sitting at the bar, alone. Was Nara Kincaid beating me at my own game? No. Never. I'm the one who calls the shots. I'm successful. I'm rich. I can seduce any woman I want. I own the hottest boutique hotel in New York. Only the rich and famous stay here. They're all we allow. The don't pick us. We pick them. And I've picked Nara Kincaid.