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      CHAPTER TWO

      WARREN DAVIS’S REDBRICK Georgian Revival home in the Hyde Park neighborhood of Chicago shone with a century-old elegance in the early evening light. It had been an unusually steamy summer day, climbing into the hundreds, the haze that had blanketed the city just starting to lift. Cooler night air whispered across the tops of the tall pine trees that stood like sentinels on either side of the mansion, wafting through the window of Quinn Davis’s room as she watched the heads of some of the world’s biggest spirit companies arrive for the cocktail meet and greet.

      The air might be cooler now, but the focused, intent look on each megapowerful man’s face as he arrived promised a heated competition. Winning was all that mattered to men of this caliber. She’d lived with one her whole life—the most alpha of them all in Warren. And she couldn’t deny, she was their female equivalent. Except she had to be even tougher, stronger and more focused than all of them to survive. A female warrior in a male-dominated world.

      She was fascinated to see how the men would play. How the testosterone party would unfold.

      Every single one of them, as they arrived in everything from custom-made suits to cowboy hats, looked up at the American flag billowing from the porch, and undoubtedly, reminded himself again of its significance. Warren Davis was a national symbol of what made America great—a billionaire philanthropist who gave away more of his money than he kept. A patriot and financial genius who advised presidents on monetary policy and led social commentary. He was the man everyone wanted to know. The man people paid three and a half million to have lunch with at his charity auction date for the homeless, in the hopes they might pick up a miniscule amount of his brilliance.

      He was also, as a stroke of fate would have it, the man who had chosen, along with his Irish wife, Sile, to adopt Quinn as a baby when her young Southern parents had been unable to care for her. Warren and Sile had barely brought their new baby home when Sile had miraculously fallen pregnant after years of unsuccessful fertility treatments and given Quinn her sister and best friend, Thea.

      Thea, even now still primping herself in front of the mirror, fussing over yet another choice of hairstyle. Quinn grimaced and levered herself away from the window. “Please pick one and be done.”

      Her sister squinted at herself and gave a dramatic sigh. “How am I supposed to choose with four of the world’s most powerful men coming for cocktails? This has to be daddy’s best idea ever. I mean, he has two single daughters right?”

      Since her marriage to Julian had been a certified disaster, yes, that did put her squarely in that category. Not that she had any plans to ever repeat her mistake.

      “Tonight is about getting to know potential partners,” she told her veterinarian sister, who knew as much about business as she knew about changing a tire. “Not speed dating.”

      “Ha.” Thea shot her a rebellious look. “With a cattle and wine baron in the house, not to mention delicious Matteo De Campo.... You think I’m missing out on that opportunity?”

      Quinn smiled. She wished, sometimes, she had just a little bit more of her younger sister’s boundless enthusiasm for life. For love. But she wasn’t sure she’d ever even had it to start with.

      “Daniel Williams is beautiful,” Quinn drawled. “I’ll give you that.”

      Thea tossed her long blond hair over her shoulder. “I fancy living on his ranch. I can take care of the animals while he tends to his vineyard. Although—” she put a finger to her mouth in a thoughtful gesture “—I’d gladly forget all about the animals if Matteo De Campo deemed me fit to give a second look. He is one real-life animal I wouldn’t mind taming.”

      Quinn gave her a look from beneath perfectly manicured brows. “Matteo De Campo is a notorious playboy who couldn’t take a woman seriously if she were the only one left on the planet. And even then,” she declared, her lip curling, “he’d find it difficult to get past his love affair with himself.”

      Thea threw out her hands. “Who cares? I hear a woman can’t be in the same room as him without throwing her panties at him. He’s that hot.”

      “He’s not that good-looking.” Unless you went for the smoldering male à la perfume commercials who looked like he’d keep you up all night.

      Her sister caught the gleam in her eye. “See? Undeniable. You need to throw off that ‘I was married and it sucked’ baggage and move on. Live a little.”

      Quinn’s heart clamped into the hard little ball that seemed to be its permanent state since Julian had left. No one but her knew the truth of her marriage. The public line had been irreconcilable differences. What happened behind Davis doors was never revealed.

      Better the truth of her marriage not be.

      She forced a wry smile to her lips. “Don’t go throwing your panties at Matteo De Campo. Not only will he break your heart, but he’ll be mad when he loses the bid.”

      Thea drew her brows together. “Have you already decided then?”

      “No, but De Campo’s probably last on the list.” She wanted Danny William’s Silver Kangaroo. The small, award-winning Australian winery was the perfect eclectic fit for what she wanted to do with the Luxe brand.

      “Daddy likes De Campo,” Thea said, following her to the door. “He said their new Napa wines are brilliant.”

      “Daddy isn’t making the decision.”

      Thea gave her a sideways look. “When are you going to stop trying to live up to this vision of perfection he expects? You could do that every day for the rest of your life and it’d still never be enough.”

      Possibly true. But she was a little afraid she’d die trying. This was the biggest opportunity of her career and she intended to make her mark with it.

      She did have to maintain some objectivity, she told herself as she and Thea made their way down the winding staircase, through the massive drawing room and out the French doors that led to the gardens where the cocktails were being served. It was only fair after all, even if she knew the choice she was going to make in the end.

      The terrace in the middle of the immaculately landscaped gardens was buzzing as they arrived, the two CEOs of the larger spirit companies with their wives in attendance, while Daniel Williams and Matteo De Campo had obviously elected to fly solo, to Thea’s delight.

      Surprising. Matteo’s Hollywood ex had been moaning in the tabloids about all of her ex-lover’s women, but not one was in sight tonight.

      All eyes settled on her and her sister. Blonde Thea glowed with the prospect of meeting her Prince Charming while her dark-haired alter ego felt herself the instant target of four sets of male eyes. Not because she was beautiful, although she knew that she was. But because she was their ticket to massive international sales growth.

      They were sizing her up. Waiting to see if she was as impressive as her track record. It sat on her shoulders with the almost oppressive weight that being Warren Davis’s daughter always had. She not only had to be better than the rest, she had to be ten times better.

      It was exhausting.

      Thea sucked in a breath. “I really may have to forgo my ranch-living plans. He is just unreal.”

      Quinn didn’t have to ask which man her sister was talking about, because Matteo De Campo’s laserlike gaze was focused on her and it was like being in the path of an undeniable force of magnetism the likes of which she’d never experienced