Free Naming His Price (Poison Sons MC) by Brook Winters

NAMING HIS PRICE
     
    “I think you must be half out of your mind.”
     
    As she typed furiously at her computer, the young woman on the receiving end of the comment barely spared a glance at the man standing over her. She hadn't known how long it would take for word to get around the office, but apparently, news traveled faster than she'd thought.
     
    “Dan, look: I know you're ambitious. But heading out there , regardless of how big the sale, will only bring you trouble.”
     
    With a sigh, Danielle Sparks hit send on her current page. As soon as the e-mail she'd been working on disappeared, she shoved back from her desk to fix Nick Camp, her friend and coworker, with an indulgent smile. “Hey, don't be upset because you didn't think of it first.”
     
    The older man's cinnamon-colored eyes widened in disbelief. “Upset? Upset ? Danielle, we're talking The Poison Sons here.”
     
    “Mmhm.” Nodding, she flashed him her pearly whites. “Some of the most moneyed men in town.”
     
    “Some of the most dangerous men in town,” Nick returned seriously, his gaze somber.
     
    For a moment, his expression managed to pierce through her hard-earned shell of confidence, allowing a sliver of apprehension work its way in. Danielle could play ignorant all she wanted, but the fact of the matter was that she was well aware of just how lethal the Poison Sons could be.
     
    For the past decade, the once small-time motorcycle gang had been growing in numbers, strength, and influence. She remembered a time in her adolescent years when every rebellious bad boy in school had gone from spray painting bleachers to joining their ranks. Every daydreaming girl had turned from their big screen stars to lust after muscled, tattooed locals.  Whenever a procession of gleaming, roaring Harleys made its way through downtown, there had been stares, whispers, and rumors; but no one had doubted that the gang's time would soon pass.
     
    In the space of a mere 10 years, however, the Poison Sons had become a household name. Almost everyone in their sizable southern town had dealings with them through one outlet or the other, and every major business transaction had to go through some lower level Sons lackey.
     
    While there were many that would say that the gang taking control of the town's economy had ultimately increased their wealth and efficiency tenfold, there were others that argued that every official in power, from highest politician to the lowliest beat cop, was there because the Poison Sons had chosen him. People who backed out on business deals involving the gang tended to disappear without a trace. Their slanderers didn't slander for long, and anyone who knew any better kept less than ideal information about the Sons to themselves.
     
    It was a level of power both frightening and intriguing.
     
    And it was that power that also made the Sons some of the best potential clients for real estate.
     
    The firm Danielle worked for held properties owned by several institutions and upper echelon powerhouses; land that wasn't as easily bought and sold as the lots that were locally owned. Some of the properties they had for sale were from especially prestigious regional business moguls — penthouses and high rises in some of the town's best neighborhoods.
     
    However, it wasn't one of these that had caught Danielle's attention. More interesting to her was an expansive warehouse in the downtown region. Already located near one of the Sons' main hubs of operation, she knew that the huge building would be ideal as their new headquarters.
     
    When she'd first pitched the idea to her boss, the older woman had merely laughed.
     
    Barbara Stanford had been impressed by Danielle ever since she'd joined the company five years ago. She'd risen quickly through the ranks as a direct result of her ambition and willingness to go after clients that other realtors wouldn't touch.
     
    The idea of direct dealings with the Sons, however, was apparently