His lovemaking was aggressive, demanding, unbearably erotic.
Afterward, they’d lain tangled in the expensive sheets, exhausted and more wound-up than ever.
Ding.
The elevator stopped. Amado hooked his arm around her elbow as if to foil any attempted escape.
She tried to pull her arm back. “What if they think we’re…?” Panic rippled through her.
“What if they do?” His voice had an edge to it that she hadn’t heard before. He didn’t look at her.
“But this is my job,” she rasped.
“And you do it so well.” He raised an eyebrow before coolly withdrawing his arm from hers.
A chill descended as her arm fell to her side.
He thought she’d slept with him to get the job done?
Had she?
“Amado!” A slender blonde raced into the reception area. She clapped her hands to her mouth at the sight of him, apparently overwhelmed by emotion.
Amado stopped.
Susannah realized introductions were up to her. “Amado, this is Samantha Hardcastle, she’s your…your father’s wife.”
His third wife, to be precise.
Amado held out his hand and shook Samantha’s. He murmured a polite greeting in his accented English.
Susannah could see he was surprised by how young Samantha was. Maybe even younger than him.
Susannah thought that, underneath her polished society-wife exterior, Samantha Hardcastle was one of the nicest and most genuine people she’d ever met. Still, she refrained from pointing out to Amado that she was now officially his stepmom.
“Tarrant wanted to come out and meet you himself but he’s weak today. I’m sure Susannah told you that he’s ill.” Samantha’s eyes shone with emotion. “Please come in. We’re all so happy you’re here.”
Amado’s expression was unreadable.
Susannah tensed with anticipation. Please let it go well. Let Amado find some happiness in this family drama she’d laid at his door.
She hung back as Samantha led Amado into Tarrant’s spacious office. Dazzling afternoon light streamed through the tall windows that looked down over Central Park.
Dominic, the first unclaimed son of Tarrant’s to be located, stepped forward. He ushered Amado into the hushed space, shook his hand formally, then—as if on instinct—pulled him into a deep embrace.
Dominic had been chosen to replace Tarrant as President after Tarrant’s death, despite a publicized scandal about his affair with a corporate spy at Hardcastle Enterprises.
Bella Soros, the scientist and mole he’d uncovered both literally and figuratively, was now his wife and a key figure at Hardcastle. Susannah spotted her standing to one side, watching her husband’s newfound brother with her perceptive gray gaze.
Emotion crackled in the air as Amado bent to greet the sickly tycoon, who could barely rise from his chair. Tarrant clasped Amado’s hand in both of his, “My son, I’m so glad we found you.”
Susannah found herself getting choked up. Perhaps because Tarrant seemed so frail—so old, even though he was only sixty-seven. He looked like a man with a short time left to live and she prayed that Amado would be gentle with him.
To err is human. Forgiveness is divine. The familiar words from her childhood rang in her mind.
Would she be able to forgive a sin of the magnitude of Tarrant’s?
Tarrant praised Amado’s wines in appreciative detail, which brought Amado out and engaged him in conversation. He stood tall and dignified, polite and reserved, as Tarrant introduced him to his daughter Fiona.
The only child actually born to Tarrant within the confines of a legal marriage, Fiona was the daughter of his second wife. Susannah thought her somewhat spoiled and flighty, no doubt a result of her indulgent surroundings. She worked at Hardcastle Enterprises but seemed to drift from one department to the next, without settling into a real career.
Fiona was tight-lipped, barely verbal, her abundant red hair pulled back into a tight chignon. Amado shook her hand, then leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek, which caused a flicker of emotion in her green eyes.
It must be hard to be Tarrant’s only child for so long, then have the limelight stolen by the tall, handsome men Tarrant now claimed as his sons and heirs.
Amado, proud and restrained, murmured that he’d like to speak to Tarrant Hardcastle—he called him by his full name—alone. Susannah hurried from the room, heart pounding, and slipped away to her office.
The door closed behind his newfound brother and sister, leaving Amado alone with his father.
His father.
The man who sowed the seed that would become him, then abandoned the garden.
“You’re angry.”
Tarrant’s words startled him.
“Yes, I am.” He looked down at the thin, suntanned face, with its high cheekbones and piercing blue-green eyes. The man who’d left his mother to die.
“I didn’t know about you.” Amado studied Tarrant’s face as he spoke. “Ignacio Alvarez raised me as his son, and his wife claimed to be my mother.”
“You were lucky to be raised by such caring people.”
Tarrant’s platitude heated Amado’s blood. “Lucky indeed. After being abandoned by the man who gave life to me.”
“I know apologies are inadequate. There’s no excuse for what I did. I was young and stupid.”
Tarrant’s chest heaved inside his crisp blue shirt. “I knew your mother was pregnant. I told her to take care of it, that I’d reimburse her, but she wouldn’t hear of it. I told her that if she didn’t, she’d see no more of me.”
Tarrant paused and frowned. “I never saw her alive again.” He looked up at Amado, eyes shining with un-shed tears. “She chose you over me. And a very wise choice it was.”
Amado’s heart seized at the honest confession. Then his muscles tightened. “I wish I had known her myself.”
“It’s my great sorrow that you never will.” Tarrant pushed long, tanned fingers through his thick silver hair. “She was a beautiful, lively woman. A talented painter with a big future ahead of her. I couldn’t understand why she wanted to throw that away to take care of a child.”
“She faced up to her responsibility.” Amado spoke through gritted teeth.
“Something I could never bring myself to do. I don’t ask you to forgive me, because I know you won’t. You can’t. I only hope that you will consider yourself a part of our family.”
Tarrant took a drink from a glass filled with clear liquid. “It means so much to my wife to bring you together with Dominic and Fiona. I think she’s afraid the Hardcastle family will disintegrate after I die. She never had children of her own and she sees you all as her family.”
Amado blinked. Tarrant’s wife? The stylish blonde who looked all of twenty-five? She’d be a merry widow laughing all the way to the bank.
“Is this why you brought me here? To make your wife happy?”
Had his life been turned upside down to provide entertainment for his father’s bored trophy wife? His blood surged near its boiling point.
Tarrant rose from his chair. It took considerable effort, from the pained expression on his face. Amado found himself reaching forward to offer a helping hand under his elbow. “No. I wanted you here. For me. The selfish wish of a dying man to meet his son.”
Amado swallowed. The emotion plain in Tarrant’s face tugged at his heart.
“I’m so proud of what you’ve accomplished. Susannah brought me your wines and told me you’ve been developing the vineyards since you were a child. You deserve all the success you’ve worked hard for and so much more. And I hope that we at Hardcastle Enterprises can help you expand your business to the next level.”
Amado gripped Tarrant’s bony elbow, partly to prevent the unsteady man from falling back into his chair, and partly because he didn’t want to let go.
Foreign emotions jolted through him. In spite of everything, he felt a sudden deep bond with the man before him. It must have take
n courage to face up to his failure as a father and invite censure and anger into his life in the form of a neglected child.
Not quite sure what he was doing, Amado pulled Tarrant into his arms and hugged him tightly. He couldn’t stop himself. “You didn’t know my mother would die,” he heard himself whisper. “No one could have known that.” Pain throbbed inside him. It had always hurt him that he’d never met his sister. Now that he knew she was his mother, the loss felt fresh and raw.
Tarrant inhaled. “She would have been so proud of you. She used to talk about your estate—Tierra de Oro, isn’t it?—as if it was some kind of magical Eden. I know she’d be so happy that you are living there and taking care of it for the next generation.”
Amado swallowed hard, trying to choke back the fierce emotion flooding through him.
He knew so little about Marisa. Ignacio and Clara became agitated and shared pained glances if he even mentioned her name. He’d always assumed they were so torn up by her premature death—in an “accident”—that they couldn’t bear to talk about her.
He knew Marisa’s mother had also died young, and that his father had been single for almost twenty years before marrying again. The aging newlyweds had borne only one child.
At least, that’s what he’d been told.
He realized he was still holding Tarrant tight, and he pulled back. Drew in a deep breath.
He was sad for the dying man who wouldn’t live to see his own grandchildren.
But forgiveness?
Not really.
The door opened and Samantha put her head around it. She smiled. He wondered if she’d been listening at the door.
“Amado, Dominic and Fiona want to take you out to dinner. Show you the city. Please say you will.”
Big blue eyes implored him.
“I’d be delighted.” He managed to keep his voice calm and polite. Nodded to Tarrant.
“We’ll talk more later.” The tycoon seemed to have regained his arrogant demeanor. “We’ll do some business.” A satisfied smile spread across his tanned face and good humor twinkled in his aqua eyes. “I want to help you bring your wines to the States.”
“I’d like that.”
Why not? Perhaps something positive could come out of this mess.
Where was Susannah? Had she snuck off and abandoned him now that her work was done?
Inevitable desire crept over him at the thought of her. Of her dark, lush mouth. Her haunting gaze.
Her thoughtful silences.
If she thought she could bring him here and throw him at his father’s feet like a lamb to slaughter, then disappear out of his life, she was very much mistaken.
“I’d like Susannah to return to Tierra de Oro. To develop a business plan.” He tilted his head, waiting for Tarrant’s reaction.
The older man’s eyes narrowed. He could hear cogs turning in that sharp mind.
Did he know there was more between them than professional cordiality? A man like Tarrant Hardcastle, ruled by fleeting passions and expensive indulgences, probably encouraged his staff to accomplish their goals by any means necessary.
Perhaps she would receive a bonus for her little coup.
“Of course. I’ll instruct her to stay as long as you wish.” Tarrant gave him a knowing glance.
Amado recoiled inwardly, as if Tarrant had said, “I’ll have her scrubbed and sent to your tent.”
But isn’t that what he wanted?
“Susannah! Oh, thank goodness you’re there.”
Susannah, roused from a deep sleep, tried to figure out the owner of the voice blasting out of her phone.
“We’re taking Amado to a milonga, to make him feel at home. You must come.”
Fiona.
Susannah’s heart sank. Could she say no to Daddy’s Little Princess?
“Gosh, I’m very tired. I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in…” She was too tired to remember when she’d had a decent night’s sleep.
Certainly not last night, in Amado’s hotel room. And the two previous nights had been spent on long-haul flights to and from Santiago, Chile. The latter, locked in intellectual combat with Amado on a variety of challenging topics including the usually off-limits religion and politics.
She sagged against the cool white sheets in her Spartan apartment.
“You have two hours to take a nap, then meet us in the lobby. We’ll all take a car downtown together.”
The dial tone brooked no contradiction.
Susannah fumbled with her alarm clock, hoping that it would ring loud enough to wake her from whatever fitful slumber she could claim in two hours.
Amado must have asked for her to come. Was he trying to kill her?
Maybe this was his way of getting revenge on her for shaking him out of his comfortable ignorance.
And what the heck was a milonga?
Susannah leaped off the bus and darted along Fifth Avenue, already five minutes late. The icy December blast was a harsh contrast to the Southern Hemisphere warmth she’d left behind in Mendoza. She clutched her wool coat around her skimpy black wrap dress as she clattered along the cement sidewalk.
With any luck they’d have left without her.
But no. The imposing Fiona stood on the sidewalk in front of the Hardcastle building, clad in a fitted leather jacket, her green dress whipping against her long, elegant legs. “Finally!”
Amado leaned against a wall of the building, devastatingly elegant in a dark suit. He must be freezing out here in the cold. He didn’t move when he saw her, but she felt his gaze sizzle through her like a heat wave.
“I’m sorry, there was way more traffic than I expected.”
“Never mind that. Get in.” Fiona gestured to the waiting stretch limo.
Susannah folded herself into the darkest corner. Dominic and Bella flirted with each other on one of the long, bench seats. Amado flashed a wicked glance at her as he entered, then he sat next to Fiona and proceeded to lavish her with his masculine charm.
Susannah stared hard at her clutch purse.
Fiona leaned forward. “Amado, you’re going to love this place. It’s really intimate, started by a couple from Buenos Aires who teach tango classes.”
She touched his knee. Her long, pale fingers rested for a moment on his powerful thighs.
A surge of irritation pushed Susannah forward. “Amado’s from the country. Mendoza isn’t anywhere near Buenos Aires.”
Amado’s black gaze rested on her face. “You think I don’t know how to tango?”
Susannah pressed herself back into her corner, shrinking from his forceful presence. She shrugged, not wanting to accuse the reputedly dramatic Fiona of making assumptions.
“Do you?” Fiona leaned into him, her gold hoop earrings swinging.
“I guess you’ll have to find out.” He smiled warmly at Fiona. Susannah cursed the ugly possessive attitude that made her resent Fiona’s instant intimacy with Amado.
Fiona had every right to be intimate with him. She was his sister. Susannah, on the contrary, did not. Once he went back to Argentina, she’d see him maybe once a year at tasting time.
Perhaps not even then.
Still, it had only been a few hours since he’d trailed his fingers over her bare skin and licked her to a shuddering climax in his hotel bed.
She tried to keep her breathing steady. Focus on the lights of the city flashing past outside the tinted window.
Amado lingered in the limo until all the others climbed out, then offered his arm to Susannah. “I’m glad you came.”
Anticipation shivered through her as she took his arm. The fine fabric of his dark suit tickled her fingertips and made all her tiny, invisible hairs stand on end.
She wasn’t even sure where they were. Somewhere downtown. A dark awning shaded the door of the club from the streetlights. A line of hip and elegant patrons waited outside on the cold sidewalk, but Fiona marched right up to the door and whispered something to the scary-looking bouncer.
He
ushered them in. She could feel Amado’s strong arm through the sleeve of his suit. As they stepped through the door, the music beckoned to them, rhythmic and seductive.
Lucky thing she didn’t know how to tango. At least she had a good excuse for not making a fool of herself.
They descended some stairs, and emerged into a loft-like space. Tables clothed in linen ringed a dance floor, already packed with writhing bodies.
A live band with a row of accordionists crammed onto the small stage, energizing the room with the urgent throb of the tango.
They gathered at a table and ordered drinks. Fiona chattered excitedly about the tango lessons she’d been taking and wasn’t it a fantastic coincidence that her new brother was from Argentina?
Susannah sipped her drink while Fiona pulled Amado, laughing, from his seat and onto the dance floor.
Dominic and Bella followed suit. They both claimed to have never tangoed before, but Susannah found herself transfixed by the passion that flashed between them like oxygen fanning a fire. The tall and striking Dominic radiated controlled intensity while Bella, a research chemist with the body of a 1950s sex goddess, flowed around him like molten metal.
She snuck a glance at Amado and Fiona. Her blood pressure spiked at the sight of his hands splayed over her bare spine. She knew the touch of those fingers, forceful yet tender, and her body ached for it.
Susannah! He’s not yours. Be happy for him that he’sfound a family he didn’t know about. Maybe, if she hadn’t played his sensual games, she’d never have persuaded him to part with the DNA that was the first step on his journey here.
Fiona flicked her legs around his, twirling in a practiced and elegant motion.
Susannah snatched her gaze away. The ugly green beast of jealously was so unfamiliar she had no idea how to handle it.
How could she begrudge him a dance with his own sister, for crying out loud? What kind of selfish, egotistical maniac was she?
She glanced up again, over the rim of her vanilla martini, and this time her eyes met Amado’s. Longing flashed through her. As he spun Fiona in an elegant turn, he kept his focus on Susannah, depriving her of breath.
He’s playing with you.
Was this why he’d brought her here tonight? To tempt her and toy with her, as sweet revenge for the way she’d upended his life?
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