Wedding Vow of Revenge

by Lucy Monroe

  “Then there is only one alternative left: marriage.”

  “I—”

  “You see, it was not so hard to define. In order to give yourself to me, you want a lifetime commitment.”

  “I’m not angling for marriage.” But her words came out a mere whisper of sound, the direction the conversation had taken shocking her to the core.

  “Aren’t you?”

  “No.” She wasn’t, darn it. Frustration welled up in her. “If you weren’t trying to go so fast, this wouldn’t even be an issue, so don’t try putting all the blame back on me. I only said I’m not keen on having casual sex with a man who will disappear from my life very soon.”

  “I wasn’t aware I was trying to blame you for anything and I agree, casual sex is not what I had in mind.”

  A maelstrom of emotion churned through her. “We can’t get married just because you want to have sex with me.”

  “People do it all the time actually, but I think we’ve got a lot more than sexual desire going for us.”

  “Let me get this straight,” she said, feeling more bewildered than she ever had in her life. “Are you saying you want to marry me?”

  “Yes.”

  Suddenly she felt claustrophobic in the interior of the car. She couldn’t get enough air and the world was going black around the edges. “You didn’t say that,” she breathed.

  “I don’t just want you, I like you, Tara. It’s been a long time since I felt that way about a woman. I’m thirty years old and I’ve never been in love. I don’t think I’m wired that way. There are a lot worse things I could do than marry a woman I want as much as I want you.”

  She couldn’t think of a single thing to say in response. Baron had put off making any major commitments with a constant stream of excuses. So had her mother’s boyfriends. She’d never known a man like Angelo that wanted to jump feet first into long-term commitment…except Darren.

  Her stepdad had asked her mom to marry him on their second date. But that was because he loved her and Angelo had just said he wasn’t wired that way. It didn’t make any sense.

  He sighed at her silence. “I respect your integrity and your intelligence. I enjoy your company and I think you feel the same way about me. You probably thought you loved Baron Randall, but look at where that got you. Marriage to me would be a lot better for your emotional well-being than waiting around for another man like him to show up.”

  “If you feel that way about it, we can keep dating…take our time deciding if a future makes sense.”

  Something came over his expression, the ruthlessness she’d always been sure lurked under his civilized exterior.

  He shook his head decisively. “Some of the best decisions I’ve made in my life have been spur of the moment based on my gut instincts. Those instincts are telling me that a marriage between us would work.”

  This was beyond anything she could’ve imagined.

  “So, what? You want to fly to Las Vegas and get married tomorrow?” she asked sarcastically, trying to point out the ridiculousness of his attitude.

  “That would work,” he said musingly. “I think I could wait one more night to have you.”

  “You’re insane.”

  “Not even close. I’m merely sure of what I want.”

  She shoved her car door open, feeling as if she didn’t get out of that car immediately, she was going to lose it. “I need to think.”

  “You sure you won’t ask me up? I could work on convincing you.”

  “No!” She clambered from the car. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  He didn’t appear worried by her rejection. In fact, he gave her another look filled with sensual confidence. “I’ll be by to take you to breakfast. We’ll spend the day together.”

  She nodded and reeled like a drunk up the walk and into her building. Luckily someone had left the front door unlatched because keys would have been beyond her right after she got out of the car.

  She wasn’t much better when she reached her door on the top floor. The phone was ringing when she got it unlatched.

  She rushed inside and picked it up, still feeling dazed. “Hello.”

  “Stellina. I wanted to make sure you made it inside all right.”

  “Yes, I’m here.” Which was definitely an exercise in the obvious, but scintillating, even intelligent conversation was beyond her.

  “I do not like the fact your building has only one locked exterior door and I noticed it was left open. It is old…even locked, it could easily be broken into.”

  “This isn’t New York, Angelo.”

  “Bad things happen here, too.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Yes, but I’ll be glad when we’re married and I can know you are always safe.”

  She tried her best not to dwell on his use of the word when instead of if. “You mean if I married you, I could look forward to your hiring me a bodyguard?”

  “That’s an idea worth considering. I have plenty to go around.”

  She was still gasping with indignation and leftover shock when he said goodbye and hung up the phone.

  Surprisingly she slept well and woke up feeling refreshed before the alarm went off.

  The phone rang as she was getting out of the shower. It was Angelo telling her he wanted to take her to the beach and to dress appropriately. He also suggested she bring spare clothes in case they got wet or sandy. She couldn’t help wondering if he didn’t have plans to try to stay overnight, but she found herself packing the clothes and other necessities anyway.

  Was she engineering her own downfall? His proposal had fried her brain cells.

  Angelo parked his car in a spot near the entrance to the beach. Despite the warmth of the day and it being a Saturday, the spot was deserted. It was the reason he favored this beach over others and why he’d built a vacation home not far away. He liked the solitude.

  He’d take Tara to his house later, when her initial reticence to being alone with him had diminished.

  They got out of the car and stopped in unison to take stock of the view before them.

  “It’s gorgeous,” Tara breathed, her voice filled with awe.

  Blue water stretched out as far as the eye could see and waves crashed against huge, mountain like rocks jutting out of the water a couple hundred feet from the shore.

  “Yes.” He looked down at her. “But the view isn’t the only beautiful thing around here.”

  She averted her face, but he could see his compliment had pleased her. Once again, she’d gone for a very feminine look, wearing a cropped tank top and low rider shorts that showed lots of leg and the smooth skin of her stomach. Her sandals were strappy bits of nothing that accented the delicate lines of her feet.

  She’d pulled her thick chestnut hair up into a youthful ponytail again, leaving the slender column of her neck exposed.

  He leaned forward and placed a warm, lingering kiss against the sensitive spot behind one ear. He inhaled her fresh, sweet fragrance and nuzzled her. “You smell good.”

  “Thanks.” She pulled away with a jerky, nervous movement. “We’d better get down to the beach.”

  “We’re not on a timeline.” But he let her lead him away.

  He could afford to wait to solidify his advantage. He had no doubts about how this day would ultimately end. And he was enjoying the wait.

  They walked down a path from the parking lot to the beach. As soon as they hit the sand, Tara stopped and pulled her sandals off. She let them drop behind a log near the path entrance.

  “Are you sure they’ll be safe there?”

  “Do you see anyone around to steal them?”

  There was only one other car in the small parking area and the only other occupants of the beach were nothing but small dots in the distance. “Point taken.”

  “You should take off your shoes, too.”

  He hadn’t walked barefoot on the beach since he was a kid, but there was something about an untamed beach and sunshine that bro
ught out even a tycoon’s need to connect more closely to the elements. He slid his sports shoes and socks off and left them next to Tara’s sandals.

  Then he put his hand out and she took it. They walked hand in hand to the shoreline, their silence surprisingly companionable considering the heavy subjects they had been discussing when they parted the night before.

  The sand was warm against his feet, but the heat generated from their palms pressed together was greater. He got a primitive charge out of touching Tara in any way. Even the slightest connection sent electric impulses along his nerve endings and knowing that making her his took her away from his enemy gave him an equal charge.

  He hadn’t been nearly as surprised by his proposal as she had been, but then he knew what lengths he was willing to go to get his revenge against the man who had destroyed the grief-stricken and vulnerable woman who had given Angelo his life.

  Marriage would be a much more effective tool in removing the possibility of reconciliation between Randall and Tara than mere seduction.

  “How seriously do you take the commitment of marriage?” Her words told him her thoughts had been going along the same course as his own.

  “It’s the ultimate commitment between a man and a woman.”

  “Do you consider divorce an easy out if things get difficult?”

  “No.”

  She stopped and looked up at him, her brown eyes questioning. “What do you really think about marriage?”

  “I want a companion.”

  “There’s more to life than bed.” Their thoughts had been traveling along very similar paths.

  “I said a companion, not a bed warmer. I like talking business with you. It’s stimulating.”

  She grinned, a naughty gleam in her dark eyes. “I’ve never had my opinions described that way before.”

  “They’re that, too,” he said, easily sliding into the game. “You’re the first woman to turn me on while talking about the merits of on-site employee day care.”

  She laughed, the sound warm and inviting. “What else?”

  “Children. I want a family. I’ve built an empire I have no desire to leave it to some hospital who will build a wing with my name on it.” As he said the words, he realized how true they were.

  Why not Tara as the mother to his children?

  He certainly had no illusion about falling madly in love and living happily ever after with some dream woman. And he’d be destroying his enemy in the process.

  She nodded, looking thoughtful. “So you see marriage as pretty much permanent.”

  “Don’t you?”

  “Yes. The worst part about growing up was the upheaval every time one of Mom’s boyfriends left. I won’t put my children through it. I want a marriage that is going to last.”

  “Ditto.”

  She smiled at that, but didn’t say anything else and they walked along the shoreline for several minutes, the call of seagulls and the surf the only sounds around them.

  Then she stopped abruptly and leaned down to pick up a red bucket some child must have left behind. She looked at it as if the bright plastic somehow held the answers of the universe.

  She turned and tugged his hand. “Come on.”

  “Where?”

  “I want to build a sand castle.” She led him to the spot where the sand was still wet but no longer brushed by waves from the outgoing tide.

  Stunned, he just stared at her when she plopped down to her knees and started scooping damp sand into the bucket.

  She peeked up at him, her eyes wide behind her sunglasses. “Are you going to help?”

  “Why?”

  “Why help or why build?”

  “Why build?”

  She shrugged. “I’ve always wanted to build one and I never have.”

  “Never?”

  “I grew up in the Midwest. I didn’t even see the ocean until I started taking modeling jobs that required travel. I moved to Portland for Primo Tech, but I’ve spent most of my life living in land-bound states.”

  If someone had told him that seducing a former model included building a sand castle, he would have dismissed the idea as nonsense.

  “Come on,” she cajoled, “don’t be a spoil sport. If you can build companies, you can build one small sand castle.”

  It didn’t turn out that small. She wanted turrets and a moat, as well as a courtyard and a castle that any royal family would be proud to live in.

  It took them two hours to complete. When they were done, she sat back on her haunches and surveyed their handiwork with satisfaction. “Very nice.”

  “It looks formidable.”

  “Like a princess could live protected behind its walls all the days of her life.” A strange expression shot through her brown eyes. “But it’s only sand. Just like most fantasies in life, it looks great, but it won’t survive the incoming tide.”

  “Not all dreams disappear when tested by reality.”

  “Most of mine have.”

  “What kind of dreams?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I was going to grow up and be a supermodel.”

  “You were very successful.”

  “But no Cindy Crawford.”

  “Why would you want to be anyone else?”

  She laughed at that. “It’s a girl thing.”

  “What other dreams got washed away on an outbound tide?”

  She sighed and then sat back on her already sand covered bottom, her gaze fixed on the castle. “When I was a little girl, I dreamed of having a family. By the time Darren came along, I no longer trusted the dream.” She fiddled with one of the sticks they’d discarded as too crooked to stand atop the turrets as a flagpole. “I’d moved out before I accepted he wasn’t going to.”

  “But he didn’t.”

  “No. He stayed with Mom, but then I made the mistake of dreaming of my own future with a man I loved. It took almost two years, but eventually I realized that whole Prince Charming fantasy was just that. It was no more real than this.” She pointed to the molded turrets and empty moat.

  “What exactly are you saying?” Did she want to avoid marriage altogether?

  Now that he’d decided it would be the best form of revenge and that marrying her wouldn’t exactly be a hardship, he would not accept a refusal.

  She looked at him then, her dark gaze intense. “I’m not looking for love and a perfect happily ever after anymore.”

  “And yet you are hesitant to marry me. Why?”

  “I need to know that what we have is more than a sand castle on the beach.”

  “How many years was Darren your stepfather before you moved out?”

  “Six.”

  “You spent six years wondering if he was real…you could spend just as long wondering about me, but I am real and so is my proposal.”

  Then he did what he was best at and kissed her slightly parted lips.

  Angelo’s mouth took possession of hers as he dragged Tara into his lap.

  And that fast, she was lost. It all felt so incredibly right. The heat of his body against hers, his uniquely masculine scent surrounding her and the spicy warmth of his mouth both comforted and enticed her. The feel of his rock hard muscles holding her gave her a primitive sense of security no modern woman would admit to.

  As much as her mind told her attraction to this man spelled danger in capital letters, her body responded to his as if she’d found the other half of her whole. The half she hadn’t known was missing until this very moment.

  She wanted to dismiss such thoughts as juvenile and fanciful, but they permeated her being with rock solid staying power. Her soul knew this man.

  Hard, mobile lips molded hers perfectly and with just the right amount of pressure that she moaned under the onslaught to her senses.

  He growled in response to the sound, his hand gripping her waist tightly. She felt like she was being kissed by a wild predator claiming his mate, not a refined businessman. She responded on a level she had never allowed herself to explore befo
re, digging her fingertips into his shoulders and reveling in the leashed power she sensed there.

  He lifted her by the waist, repositioning her so she straddled his hips and their torsos were pressed close together. She could feel the threat of his hardness against her most sensitive flesh and the layers of clothes between them did nothing to negate the heat that connection generated.

  Jolts of sensual awareness rippled through her body, making her arch toward him and shudder while his lips continued to entice her passion to greater heights.

  Suddenly his thumb brushed upward from where his big hand rested against the indentation of her waist. It caressed her in an up and down motion, teasing at her rib cage just below her breasts before dipping down over the curve of her hip.

  Her breath suspended in her chest as she waited for him to explore further, to actually touch swollen flesh chafing at the restrictions of her bra. But he didn’t and she found herself breaking her lips from his to suck in much needed oxygen.

  “Angelo,” she panted.

  She didn’t know what else she wanted to say, couldn’t form a cohesive thought to save her life.

  His hands curved around her in a hold so possessive, she gasped. “This thing between us is good. Don’t dismiss it, stellina.”

  She had no answer, so she remained silent.

  He kissed her temple and then the corner of her mouth as if he couldn’t help himself before guiding them both to their feet. She dusted the sand from her clothes and her legs, while he pulled something small from his pocket.

  It was a mini digital camera. He aimed and took a shot of their sand castle, then took a picture of her looking at him.

  She wasn’t smiling. She had no idea how she looked. Her thoughts were deep and her body was still vibrating with sensual awareness.

  “You wanted a picture of our sand castle?” she asked, surprised by the gesture.

  “There is more than one way to preserve a dream.”

  The message in his eyes was one she was terrified of interpreting so she turned away.

  He laughed, the sound husky, as she started back up the beach. “I won’t let you run from me, Tara.”

  She didn’t answer because if she was honest with herself, she’d have to admit she didn’t want to.