Second Chance with the CEO Read online




  After one fake kiss, she’s crushing on the sexy CEO—again! Only from USA TODAY bestselling author Anna DePalo!

  Teacher Marisa Danieli needs a headliner for her school fund-raiser. Her best bet? Cole Serenghetti, former star hockey player turned CEO of his family’s construction empire. Sure, she had a disastrous high school crush on the guy, but business is business…

  Until it turns into funny business—and posing as a couple. This time, the feelings are red-hot and made worse by the fact that Marisa’s ex-fiancé is dating Cole’s ex-girlfriend! Is Marisa’s fund-raiser coup about to backfire, or is this second chance with the CEO the real deal?

  “Still can’t resist the sports guys?”

  “I’m a slow learner.”

  She’d been anything but a slow learner the one time they’d had sex. She’d been the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted.

  He cursed silently. He had to stop thinking about her. Even though right now the sunlight from a nearby window caught in her hair, creating a halo effect, and illuminated the fascinating flecks in her eyes. But what really drew him was the bow of her mouth. Soft, pink and unadorned—just waiting to be kissed, even now, fifteen years later.

  She frowned. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine. I’m stalked by schoolteachers all the time.”

  She flushed.

  “If you came to get my attention, you’ve got it.”

  * * *

  Second Chance with the CEO is part of the The Serenghetti Brothers series—In business and the bedroom, these alpha brothers drive a hard bargain!

  Dear Reader,

  It’s good to be writing for Harlequin Desire again after taking time to attend to family! This is my thirteenth Desire book, and the first in a series about the Serenghetti family—four powerful, passionate Italian-American siblings!

  Teacher Marisa Danieli needs a fantastic headliner for the Pershing School fund-raiser in order to earn a job promotion. Unfortunately, her best bet is sweet-talking Cole Serenghetti—former professional hockey player returned to the family fold as CEO of Serenghetti Construction, high school troublemaker and, most important, her disastrous teenage crush...until she got him suspended from school.

  Cole would rather eat an ice puck than headline Marisa’s fund-raiser, but fairly soon, thanks to one steamy kiss in a bar for the sake of their exes, everyone believes that Marisa and Cole are a couple. The second time around, will everything work out for Pershing’s most scandalous fake couple, or will history repeat itself?

  Watch out for more stories about the Serenghetti siblings, coming soon from Harlequin Desire!

  Warmest wishes,

  Anna

  Website: www.AnnaDePalo.com

  Facebook: www.Facebook.com/AnnaDePaloBooks

  Twitter: @Anna_DePalo

  ANNA DEPALO

  Second Chance with the CEO

  USA TODAY bestselling author Anna DePalo is a Harvard graduate and former intellectual-property attorney who lives with her husband, son and daughter in her native New York. She writes sexy, humorous books that have been published in more than twenty countries and has won the RT Reviewers’ Choice Award, the Golden Leaf and the Book Buyers Best Award. For the latest news, sign up for her newsletter at annadepalo.com.

  Books by Anna DePalo

  Harlequin Desire

  Having the Tycoon’s Baby

  Under the Tycoon’s Protection

  Tycoon Takes Revenge

  Cause for Scandal

  Captivated by the Tycoon

  An Improper Affair

  Millionaire’s Wedding Revenge

  CEO’s Marriage Seduction

  The Billionaire in Penthouse B

  His Black Sheep Bride

  One Night with Prince Charming

  Improperly Wed

  The Serenghetti Brothers

  Second Chance with the CEO

  Visit her Author Profile page at Harlequin.com, or annadepalo.com, for more titles.

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  For Colby, Nicholas & Olivia, for understanding that I write.

  Mobilism

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from The Rancher's One-Week Wife by Kathie DeNosky

  One

  “Cole Serenghetti,” she muttered, “come out, come out, wherever you are.”

  She knew she sounded like a corny fairy-tale character, but she’d been short on happy endings lately, and the words couldn’t hurt, could they?

  Then again, there was always be careful what you wish for...

  As if she’d conjured him, a tall man appeared under a crossbeam at the construction site.

  A feeling of dread curled in her stomach. How many times had she started out thinking she could do this and then her courage had flagged? Three? Four?

  Still, the students at Pershing School depended on her bringing Cole Serenghetti to heel—her job could hinge on it, as well.

  Marisa lifted her hand from the steering wheel and squeezed it to stop a sudden tremor. Then she raised her field glasses.

  Features obscured under his yellow hard hat, the man strode down the dirt path leading to the opening in the chain-link fence surrounding the construction site, which would soon be a four-story medical office complex. Clad in jeans, a plaid shirt and vest and work boots, he could have been just any other construction worker. But he had an air of command...and his physique showed potential for inclusion in a beefcake calendar.

  Marisa’s heart pounded hard in her chest.

  Cole Serenghetti. Former professional hockey player returned to the family fold as CEO of Serenghetti Construction, high school troublemaker and her disastrous teenage crush.

  Could the package be worse?

  Marisa slunk lower in the driver’s seat, letting the binoculars dangle against her chest from their cord. The last thing she needed was for a police officer to come around and ask why she was stalking a rich bad-boy real estate developer.

  Blackmail? Pregnant with his child? Planning to steal his Range Rover, parked oh-so-tantalizingly close and unguarded at the curb of the office building under construction?

  Would anyone believe that the truth was much more mundane? Everyone knew her as Miss Danieli, sweet-natured teacher at the Pershing School. Ironic if her new secret life as a millionaire stalker came at the cost of her job and reputation when all she was trying to do was help the high school-aged students at her college-preparatory school.

  Tossing aside her field glasses, she popped out of her Ford Focus and darted down the street, her open coat flapping around her, as her quarry reached the sidewalk. There were no pedestrians on this side street at four in the afternoon, though it was nearing evening rush in the city of Springfield. She’d seen construction workers earlier, but there were none on the street now.

  As she approached, the dank smells of the construction site hit her. It was dirty, and the air was heavy with particles that she could almost feel, even in the damp cold that clung to western Massachusetts in March.

  She heard her stomach grumble. She’d been too nervous about this meeting to eat lunch.

  “Cole Serenghetti?”

  He turned his head while taking off his hard hat.

  Marisa slowed her steps as she w
as jerked back in time by the sight of the dark, ruffled hair, the hazel eyes and the chiseled lips. A scar now bisected his left cheek, joining the small one on his chin that had been there in high school.

  Marisa felt her heart squeeze. His newest scar looked as if it had hurt—bad.

  But he was still the sexiest man she’d ever crossed.

  She tried hard to hold on to her scattered thoughts even as she drank in the changes in him.

  He was bigger and broader than he’d been at eighteen, and his face had more hard planes. But the charisma of being a former National Hockey League star—and sex symbol—turned millionaire developer was the biggest change of all. And while he sported the new scar, he showed no signs of the injury that had been serious enough to end his hockey career. He moved fine.

  Even though Pershing was located on the outskirts of Welsdale, Massachusetts, the town that the Serenghettis called home, she hadn’t been anywhere near Cole since high school.

  She didn’t miss the once-over he gave her, and then a slow smile lit his face.

  Relief swept through her. She’d been dreading this reunion ever since high school, but he seemed willing to put the past behind them.

  “Sweetness, even if I wasn’t Cole Serenghetti, I’d be saying yes to you.” The lazy smile stayed on his face but his gaze traveled downward again, lingering on the cleavage revealed by her long-sleeved dress, and then on her legs, shown off by her favorite wedge-heeled espadrilles.

  Oh...crap.

  Cole looked up and smiled into her eyes. “You’re a welcome ray of sunshine after a muddy construction site.”

  He didn’t even recognize her. Crazy giddiness welled up inside. She’d never forgotten him in the past fifteen years, worrying over her betrayal—and his. And all that time, he’d been sleeping like a baby.

  She knew she looked different. Her hair was loose for a change and highlighted, the ends shorter and curling around her shoulders. Her figure was fuller, and her face was no longer hidden behind owlish glasses. But still...she plummeted to Earth like a hang glider that had lost the wind.

  She had to get this over with, much as she hated to end the party.

  She took a steadying breath. “Marisa Danieli. How are you, Cole?”

  The moment hung between them, stretching out.

  Then Cole’s face closed, his smile dimming.

  She curved her lips tentatively. “I’m hoping to hold you to that yes.”

  “Think again.”

  Ouch. Well, this was more like the script that had been playing in her head. She forced herself to keep up the polite professionalism without, she hoped, tipping into desperation. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Not long enough.” He assessed her. “And I’m guessing it’s no accident you’re here now—” he quirked a brow “—unless you’ve developed a weird compulsion to prowl construction sites?”

  She’d always been bad at door-to-door solicitation jobs, and now, it seemed, was no exception. Breathe. Breathe. “The Pershing School needs your help. We’re reaching out to our most important alumni.”

  “We?”

  She nodded. “I teach tenth-grade English there.”

  Cole twisted his lips. “They’re still putting their best foot forward.”

  “Their only foot. I’m the head of fund-raising.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Congratulations and good luck.”

  He stepped around her, and she turned with him.

  “If you’ll just listen—”

  “To your pitch?” He shot her a sideways look. “I’m not as big a sucker for the doe-eyed look as I was fifteen years ago.”

  She filed away doe-eyed for later examination. “Pershing needs a new gym. I’m sure that as a professional hockey player, you can appreciate—”

  “Former NHL player. Check the yearbook for athletics. You’ll come up with other names.”

  “Yours was at the top of the list.” She picked her way over broken sidewalk, trying to keep up with his stride. Her espadrilles had seemed like a good choice for a school day. Now she wished she’d worn something else.

  Cole stopped and swung toward her, causing her to nearly run into him. “Still at the top of your list?” He lifted his mouth in a sardonic smile. “I should be flattered.”

  Marisa felt the heat sting her cheeks. He made it sound as if she was throwing herself at him all over again—and he was rejecting her.

  She had an abysmal record with men—wasn’t her recent broken engagement further proof?—and her streak had started with Cole in high school. Humiliation burned like fire.

  A long time ago she and Cole would have had their heads bent together over a book. She could have shifted in her seat and brushed his leg. In fact, she had brushed his leg, more than once, and he’d touched his lips to hers...

  She plunged ahead. “Pershing needs your help. We need a headliner for our fund-raiser in a couple of months to raise money for the new gym.”

  He looked implacable, except that twin flames danced in his eyes. “You mean you need a headliner. Try your pitch on someone else.”

  “The fund-raiser would be good for Serenghetti Construction, too,” she tried, having rehearsed her bullet points. “It’s an excellent opportunity to further community relations.”

  He turned away again, and she placed a staying hand on his arm.

  Immediately, she realized her mistake.

  They both looked down at his biceps, and she yanked her hand back.

  She’d felt him, strong and vital, his arm flexing. Once, fifteen years ago, she’d run her hands over his arms and moaned his name, and he’d taken her breast in his mouth. Would she ever stop having a heated response to his every touch, every look and every word?

  She stared into his eyes, which were now hard and indecipherable—as tough as the rocks he blasted for a living.

  “You need something from me,” he stated flatly.

  She nodded, her throat dry, feeling hot despite the weather.

  “Too bad I don’t forgive or forget a deliberate betrayal easily. Consider it a character flaw that I can’t forget the facts.”

  She flushed. She’d always wondered whether he’d known for certain who’d ratted out his prank to the school administration, earning him a suspension and likely costing Pershing the hockey championship that year. Now it seemed she had her answer.

  She’d had her reasons for doing what she’d done, but she doubted they’d have satisfied him—then or now.

  “High school was a long time ago, Cole,” she said, her voice thin.

  “Right, and in the past is where the two of us are going to stay.”

  His words hurt even though it had been fifteen years. Her chest felt tight, and it was difficult to breathe.

  He nodded at the curb. “Yours?”

  She hadn’t realized it, but they were near her car. “Yes.”

  He pulled open her door, and she stepped off the curb.

  A swimming sensation came over her, and she swayed.

  Still, she tried for a dignified exit. A few more steps and she’d put an end to this uncomfortable reunion...

  As the edges of her vision faded to black, she had one last thought. I should have eaten lunch.

  She heard Cole curse and his hard hat hit the ground. He caught her in his arms as she slumped against him.

  When she floated to consciousness again, Cole was saying her name.

  For a moment she thought she was fantasizing about their sexual encounter in high school...until the smells of the construction site penetrated her brain, and she realized what had happened.

  She was cradled against a warm, solid body. Her trench coat was bunched around her like a cocoon.

  She opened her eyes, and her gaze connected with Cole’s. His golden-green eyes were intense.

  She was also up close and personal with the new scar traversing his cheek. It looked painful but not jagged. Had he taken a skate blade to the face? She wanted to reach up and trace it.

 
He frowned. “Are you okay?”

  Heat rushed to her cheeks. “Yes, let me down.”

  “May be a bad idea. Are you sure you can stand?”

  Whatever the effects were of his career-ending injury, he seemed to have no problem holding a curvy woman of medium height in his arms. He was all hard muscle and restrained power.

  “I’m fine! Really.”

  Looking as if he still had misgivings, Cole lowered his arm. When her feet hit the ground, he stepped back.

  Her humiliation was complete. So total, she couldn’t bear to face it right now.

  “Just like old times,” Cole remarked, his tone tinged with irony.

  As if she needed the reminder. She’d fainted during one of their study sessions in high school. It was how she’d first wound up in his arms...

  “How long was I out?” she asked, not meeting his eyes.

  “Less than a minute.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Are you all right?”

  “Perfectly fine. I haven’t been to an emergency room since I was a kid.”

  “You still have a tendency to faint.”

  She shook her head, looking anywhere but at him. Talk about being overwhelmed by seeing him again. Anticipating and yet dreading this meeting, she’d been too nervous to eat. “No, I haven’t fainted in years. The medical term is vasovagal syncope, but my episodes are very infrequent.”

  Except she had a terrible habit of fainting around him. It was their first meeting in fifteen years, and she’d already managed a replay of high school. She didn’t even want to consider what he was thinking right now. Probably that she was a consummate schemer with great acting skills.

  He suddenly looked bland and aloof. “You couldn’t have planned a better Hail Mary pass.”

  She cringed inwardly. He was suggesting that fainting had allowed her to buy time and get his sympathy. She was too embarrassed to get angry, however. “You play hockey, not football. Hail Mary is football. And why would I want to make a desperate last move with little chance of success?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Confuse the other side.”

  “And did I?”

  He looked as if he wished he were wearing all the protective gear of a hockey uniform. She was throwing him off balance. She was dizzy with momentary power, though her arms and legs still felt rubbery.