“You know by now that I can be quite rude when the occasion calls for it.” Humor thickened his voice.
“Why do I feel like I should be calling a cop?”
“Maybe you should be.” He leaned forward and muttered something to the driver, who pulled over outside a small brown-stone storefront.
She climbed out onto the sidewalk, self-conscious in her smart dress among the jean-clad people perched on the edges of sidewalk planters.
He held out his arm, gallant. Aware of all the eyes on her, she took it. He led her up some concrete stairs. Inside people packed in front of a narrow counter. A chalkboard menu covered the far wall. Delicious aromas wafted in the air and she could hear the clatter of pans.
“Best food in the city.” Dominic squeezed her arm in his.
“What kind?”
“Italian, of course.”
Of course. And to compound his crimes of arrogance, he ordered for both of them without even asking her what she wanted. Or liked.
Or even if she was hungry. Which unfortunately, she was.
He chatted with the guy behind the counter as if they were friends, but didn’t introduce her. “Let’s sit outside.”
Of course, Your Lordship.
“You know, you are a lot like Tarrant.” She arranged her skirt on the hard bench that ran under the storefront window. “You do everything you damn well please and don’t care what anyone else wants.”
“There’s a lot to be said for being decisive.”
“In business, yes, but it can be hard to take in personal relationships. Look how many times your dad has been married.”
That got his attention. Dominic’s lips pursed like he was about to say something. Then he looked thoughtful. “How many times has he been married?”
Regret rippled through her. She’d forgotten that Tarrant was a virtual stranger to him. She probably knew his father better than he did. “Samantha is number three. Have you met her?”
“Yes. Seems nice.” He uncapped a bottle of San Pellegrino and poured her a glass. “Young.”
“I think she’s my age.”
Dominic blew out a short breath. Shook his head. “Why would any man want to marry a woman less than half his age?”
“Are you kidding? I thought all men wanted that. Besides, maybe I’m actually fifty, with really great skin.”
He chuckled. “Nah. If you were fifty you’d be tougher.”
“I am tough!”
He swallowed a draught of the sparkling water. “Yes. You kind of are. I like that.”
His smiling friend appeared with two steaming plates of lasagna.
“As good as Mama’s?” she asked, once he’d gone back inside.
Dominic leaned toward her. “Not quite, but don’t tell Alfie that. He might cry. You know how emotional we Italians get.”
“Yeah. Right.” Dominic Hardcastle was as emotional as his father’s gunmetal Porsche Turbo.
She dug her fork into the thick-layered pasta.
Fast cars, fast women and a fast buck. That’s all this type of man cared about. She didn’t feel bad about going behind Tarrant’s back at all. If she had to play his son’s little games, she could do that too.
She knew what was truly important.
Spicy fresh tomato, aromatic ground beef, and basil exploded over her tongue. The pasta was cooked to perfection and the vegetables still crispy. “Mmm. Not bad.”
He shot her a long-lashed sideways glance that almost made her lick her lips. But not quite.
A big drop splashed on her nose. She looked up, and another caught her in the eye.
“It’s raining.”
Everyone grabbed their plates and glasses. Bodies crowded into the tiny storefront, which had only standing room at a counter.
Dominic hadn’t budged. Black dots of rain marred the smooth gray wool of his suit. “The apartment I’m leasing is in the building next door.” He gestured toward a brick building with a nod of his head. “We’ll go up.”
Will we, indeed? She opened her mouth to protest, but a thunderclap bruised her eardrums and rattled windows in nearby buildings. A flash of lightning floodlit the darkening sky. She shivered.
“Bring the water,” he commanded, as he seized both their plates and marched away.
She picked up the bottle and glasses from the bench. Shook her head, which was getting wet, and followed.
He held both plates deftly in one large hand while he opened a plain metal door with a key. He motioned for her to go first.
She dove through the door out of the rain. “Phew. I wasn’t in the mood to get drenched.” Goose bumps rose on her skin. From the cool raindrops, of course. Not from anticipation of what might happen next.
“I think that dress would look good drenched.”
“It might shrink.”
“Yes.” A gleam lit his eyes like the eerie lightning outside.
“You are evil.”
“Shame you’re all alone in a strange building with me.” He led the way up the stairs. “I hope the power doesn’t go out.”
Why could she envisage those dimples so clearly when she was behind him?
Bella paused and shook her head, then she followed. She felt safe with him, which was totally ridiculous. She usually had good instincts about people, and she had no reason whatsoever to trust Dominic Hardcastle. He had her between a rock and a hard…
Whatever.
They walked past the row of metal mailboxes not unlike those that ornament the hallway of every walkup in Manhattan. They crossed the old black-and-white tile floor and mounted the standard-issue scuffed marble steps. Weird that a man so wealthy would stay in an ordinary rundown tenement building.
He unlocked a battered door on the second floor and ushered her in.
“Whoa.” Inside, the space contradicted every expectation. They stood on a landing with only a minimalist railing where the floor dropped away in front of them to reveal three open stories of space.
A skylight in the roof flooded the tall interior with the spooky half light of the thunderstorm.
“Let’s go up.” Dominic led the way up a half-spiral staircase rising toward the skylight. She gripped the glasses and bottles, trying not the think about vertigo.
They arrived on a wide platform. White ultramodern furniture gathered around a sort of indoor fire pit.
“The ultimate bachelor pad.”
“Yeah. And since my pal who owns it now has a three-year-old and an eighteen-month-old, it’s available pretty much whenever I want it.”
“Definitely doesn’t seem like a good space for kids.”
“Not unless they’re wearing rappelling equipment. But he designed it himself and he can’t bear to part with it. I think it’s kind of weird to take a perfectly good building and scoop it out like a tub of ice cream.”
He put their plates down on a low table near the fire pit and settled into a wide, white chair. He shrugged out of his jacket.
Rolled his sleeves over thick forearms. He glanced at her. “Go on, eat.”
“Stop telling me what to do.”
“It pains me to see good food grow cold. I guess because food is my business.” He tilted his head and fixed those dark wicked eyes on her. “Pretty please.”
She scowled at him, trying not to smile. Picked up her plate. “How did you get into selling food?”
“I like to feed people. It’s that nurturing thing.”
Yeah, right. She peered at him. “I guess food never goes out of style.”
“Nope, and it hurts my soul that processed junk is cheaper and easier to buy than real food. I’m working to change that.”
“And make a profit.”
“Sure, or I wouldn’t be in business.” He took a bite of lasagna. “My goal is nothing less than world domination.” His relaxed expression suggested he almost took it for granted.
“Like father, like son.” She eyed him cautiously.
“We do seem to have a lot in common.” He put down his f
ork. “Including a taste for beautiful and difficult women.”
Dominic loosened his collar with a finger. Bella’s wary gaze drove him crazy. She was only here because she was afraid he’d spill her secret. She was trying to play him.
That should make him mad.
This girl thought she could swindle Tarrant Hardcastle out of research he’d paid for and distract her enemy’s son with a few fluttering eyelashes?
He should teach her a lesson for making that kind of mistake.
He’d already warned her off. Told her she was looking for trouble and likely to find it. But she didn’t back down, or even pretend to.
She stared at him again through those gold-tipped dark lashes. Her gray eyes so calm, cool. A perfect industrial spy—except that she didn’t seem able to tell a lie.
What other secrets was she hiding, that she might spill if he just asked the right question?
A crash of thunder shook the old building, and a blast of lightning brightened the open space of the apartment. Dominic put down his plate. He’d lost his appetite for food.
She’d refused his kiss, but her lips had swollen and trembled under the pad of his thumb. He suspected he could stimulate a similar reaction in the rest of her body.
He did love a challenge. The prospect of licking her skin—aroused, hot and salty with exertion—made his mouth water.
“Would you like some wine? My friend has a good cellar left over from his partying days.”
“I don’t drink during the day.”
“Very sensible.” He took her plate from her lap and put it on the table. She hadn’t taken a single bite since they came here.
He had an irrational urge to throw Miss Cool and Controlled a curveball. “Have you ever been in love?”
She blinked. “No. Have you?”
Her answer surprised him. It ended the line of questioning he’d anticipated, and his own question, thrown back at him, caught him by surprise.
“Sure.”
Bella smoothed the skirt of her dress “Did she make you so suspicious of women? I bet she broke your heart.”
“I’m not suspicious of women. Half my employees are women.”
“Perhaps you snoop around trying to figure out what they’re up to as well.”
“I don’t. Something about you raised a red flag.”
She pursed her lips. That irresistible cupid’s bow crimped into two sharp points. “Maybe I remind you of the woman you used to love?”
“No.” He shifted in his chair. “You’re nothing like her.”
She leaned forward. A slight frown marred her perfect skin. “Why else would you pay attention to a nondescript chemist when you’re in a twenty-story building packed with the world’s most beautiful women? Was she a scientist too?”
Irritation prickled under his skin. “She’s a doctor now.”
The hint of a smile played about her lovely mouth.
“Hey, I haven’t seen her in years. I barely remember her.” He undid another button at the neck of his shirt. The AC wasn’t turned up enough.
“I don’t believe you. I bet you were engaged, weren’t you?”
He frowned. “Why do you care?”
“Just curious. I have a feeling about you.”
“I hope it’s a sensual feeling.” He tilted his head.
Her eyes narrowed. “It’s a feeling that you’re the kind of man who’d cherish his first love and place her on a pedestal.”
“I’m Italian.”
She smiled. “Only half, apparently. You’re going to have to come up with another excuse.”
“Okay, so I loved her. I was crazy about her. I wanted to marry her and have babies with her. That what you wanted to hear?”
Her impudent expression slipped a little. “How long were you together?” she asked quietly.
“Five years.”
Her eyes widened. “Wow. That’s a long time. What happened?”
He tilted his head and stared at her. “That’s my business.” He got up from the chair and strode across the platform to adjust the AC. He was starting to sweat.
He’d loved Patricia’s sharp mind as much as her lush body. Her dream of being a doctor had excited him and he’d done everything he could to help her—paying for their apartment while she was in school, bringing home the groceries—all while struggling to get his business off the ground.
She wouldn’t marry him until she’d graduated, and he’d had that date engraved on his heart.
Then, two weeks before she was due to pick up her diploma, she announced she was taking a residency in California and would be going alone. She wanted a high-octane career, not the demands and responsibilities of a family.
He was glad the gloom of the storm hid his expression. Since then he’d concentrated his energies on his own business. He didn’t need anyone else to complete his life.
He heard Bella get up from her chair. “I’m sorry. It was rude of me to pry. I’d better get back to the lab.”
“Of course. You have an agenda.” He couldn’t keep the edge out of his voice.
“Yes.” Her lashes lowered to hide her eyes as she smoothed a wrinkle in her dress.
Desire flared in him at the way the fabric clung to her rich curves. She’d worn that dress to attract attention. To arouse.
“Do you get pleasure from tormenting men?” He stepped closer to her. He could smell her skin, warm and sweet.
“I…no.” Alarm shone in her eyes. She blinked.
The lightning and thunder had stopped, but the dim half-light of the overcast sky enveloped them in shadow. A ray of sun pierced a cloud and shot down to divide the air between them.
She looked away, as if searching for something. The light caught her cheekbone, high and sharp, highlighting the satin sheen of her skin.
She said something, but he couldn’t make out the words because his attention was too intently riveted on her mouth. The sharp angles of her upper lip and the soft pink fullness of the lower absorbed him completely.
The shaft of sunlight glanced across her face and she blinked, squinting. She raised her hand to shield her eyes and the action pulled her dress tight over her breasts and across her slim waist. “I said, should we bring back the plates?”
“No.”
She didn’t struggle. Not even a little, the way he realized later that she should have.
That would have stopped him.
Instead she surrendered completely, with a shuddering sigh that sealed the inevitability of what was about to happen.
They didn’t even kiss right away. He buried his face in her neck, inhaled the mesmerizing scent of her skin. She pressed her cheek to his, her hands fisting into his hair, clutching at his shirt.
His breath came harder and faster, but he couldn’t do anything about it. His fingers pushed into the skin of her back through the delicate fabric of her dress, seeking her warmth and the soft femininity of her lush body.
He chafed his palms over her curves, up and down her spine and past her waist. Her ragged breath heated his skin and stirred the rage of desire roaring through him.
He unzipped her dress with a sure, fast swipe and pushed it back over her shoulders.
Why her? Why now?
Her deception and her unrepentant attitude irked him for reasons he couldn’t articulate. She wouldn’t listen to reason. Was it irritation that heated his blood?
The thoughts pushed through his brain even as he sank his hot, hungry mouth over her breast, suckling it through her bra.
But none of those things explained his reaction to this woman.
Was she going along just to keep him quiet? Sex as blackmail?
He didn’t care. Couldn’t help himself.
Her fingernails scratched him as she struggled with the buttons of his shirt, then gave up, tugging at it and trying to pull it over his head.
A low moan squeezed from her throat. He trailed his mouth over her belly button and shoved her dress down with one hand. He licked, hungry for th
e taste of her, for the warmth of her skin against his.
He cupped her buttocks with both hands, their full shape driving him crazy. He could feel her fingers in his hair, holding tight, tugging his head back until she bent to kiss him and their mouths tangled together in a hot and breath-stealing kiss.
He never did know what happened to his clothes. Maybe he’d forgotten to wear a belt and his pants just fell off. All he could remember was the sensation of her slim, cool fingers reaching under the cotton of his boxer shorts, taking hold and driving him into a state of madness he never really came back from.
He struggled with the condom he’d scrambled to find in the bathroom. Her fingers worked over his skin, teasing and taunting him, driving him further and further into a fog of lust.
He let his mouth roam over her naked body, inhaling the rich female scent of her skin until he wondered if he’d lose his mind altogether.
Then she climbed over him with trembling thighs and welcomed him inside her.
Bella slid her hips down and took him deep. She couldn’t stop the moan of pleasure that issued from her lips. Lips that had trailed over the hard lines of his face, down his neck and along his broad, muscled shoulders.
He sucked hard on her neck, until she could feel his teeth against her skin. Heat surged through her, stung her fingers and toes and made her buck against him.
The boss’s son.
This was the kind of mistake that ended careers. That ruined lives.
He laved her nipple with his tongue, which made her cry out and arch her back, shivering from head to toe.
His big hands held her waist, gripping her, his palms on her backside and his thumbs against her belly, and she couldn’t help but wriggle against him.
Then he buried his face between her breasts, a gesture so intimate and tender it almost broke her heart.
She didn’t realize how much she’d missed simply being close to someone.
Dominic’s broad palms slid over her back, sparking fire under her skin. His arms closed around her and made her rock her hips and pull him even deeper into her until the sensation became almost too intense to bear.
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