Of course his name is on the list. Fucking whore.
Nathan frowned, and sickness gnawed his gut.
He Googled Tara’s name, but there were too many results to sift through. Go figure.
What were the comments about? Maybe nothing, but his growing uneasiness insisted he find out.
His name is on the list. Her ex-husband? Marco made headlines on a semi-regular basis, but this would be brand new. Nathan started a new search.
List of Adulterers Released.
He was going to be sick. He followed the link and scanned the article.
Now he knew why Lenny wanted Nathan to review the names before they were released. Tara’s ex was making national headlines as being one of the people who actively used the site.
Fuck. It shouldn’t impact Tara. Their divorce was ancient history. But as the comments showed, people not only still remembered, but held her responsible for what happened. Marco’s publicity back then was coming back to haunt her. He’d accused her of so many nasty things when they split up.
How badly did Nathan screw up by letting this leak unfiltered?
TARA SECURED THE SKETCH on the desk in her bedroom, so she could take another look in a few hours. She’d do some touch-up before she considered it final.
Having Nick here earlier was more fun than she expected. Not that she’s expected much from a software install guy.
Did she come on too strong with the flirting?
Only if I don’t want him to know I’m interested.
She didn’t mind at all. He didn’t work for her; he was here on Rinslet’s behalf.
He’s looking to form a business partnership with Antonio.
And she wasn’t hooking up with Nick, just having a little fun. Besides, if he wasn’t capable of understanding her relationship with Nathan, she wasn’t interested. Polyamory was harder for a lot people to wrap their heads around than let’s keep business and pleasure separate.
Would I fuck him?
Absolutely. The man was sexy, smart, and confident without being a bulldozer. But that was all fantasy if the other pieces weren’t in place.
She headed downstairs. Nathan’s expression was somewhere between a scowl and panic.
Her wandering thoughts skittered away. “What’s wrong?”
He looked up, startled. “That hacker group who was threatening to release the list of names from the adultery website? They did it.” Did his voice waver?
“And?” As she asked, the tension coiling through her had already guessed the answer.
“Marco’s name is on it.”
“Of course it is.” She tried to laugh it off. A dating website to help the wealthy elite from around the world find ways to cheat on their spouses? She should have guessed it sooner.
“And everyone is talking about it. On our video. Some of the things they’re saying are harsh, even for internet comments.”
It didn’t surprise her—during the divorce a lot of people were happy to push all the blame on her for her husband’s cheating. Including him. This was probably worse. She forced a smile. “Are we going out, then?”
Nathan searched her face. “Are you sure?”
Was she? Staying home made it harder to ignore the temptation to watch comments. Nathan would try to distract her, but she wouldn’t be able to help herself. If they went out, especially to drink, it would force her to step away from the trolls.
Besides, she wasn’t letting a bunch of judgmental internet strangers dictate her morality. And if she couldn’t have Nick tonight, she and Nathan would find someone else to play with. “I’m sure.”
Their favorite place was several blocks away, but close enough to walk.
Inside, neon signs near the bar provided most of the lighting. Chatter competed with music that blared from invisible speakers hooked up to a jukebox in the corner.
Nathan kept his arm around her waist. The closeness was comforting. “Bar or table?” he asked.
“Bar.” It was more public. Easier to see people coming and going.
She sipped her negroni and let her gaze drift over faces and shadows.
Her attention kept returning to a woman at the far end of the bar. Blonde hair cut even with her jaw, and a completely uninterested expression. It was difficult to tell if the neon red in her hair was dye or from the sign to her left.
Tara watched with casual interest as a couple of men approached the woman. She shook her head with each.
Was her lack of interest in them specifically, or more general? Maybe she was shy. The way she studied her drink and kept her arms on the bar top made her look like she was blocking out the rest of the world.
“She’s attractive,” Nathan said.
“She is.”
“You interested?”
Most nights, Tara would approach her. Hell, that was why she was here tonight. Why was she letting the sting of the last few days and aching scars of rejections from the past, kept her in her seat? “I don’t know.”
She couldn’t help another glance in the blonde’s direction.
A new man approached. As with the others, the blonde shook her head and angled her body away from him.
He moved to the empty stool on her other side.
Irritation climbed through Tara’s veins.
The blonde’s scowl deepened, and she stood.
The man grabbed her wrist.
“Come on.” Nathan was already on his feet.
Tara liked that he was thinking in the same direction as her. It didn’t matter that she was in the mood to go home and sulk, they couldn’t walk away from this. She and Nathan crossed the room quickly, weaving through people and earning a couple of sharp exclamations.
They drew close enough to hear the two arguing in Italian.
Nathan draped an arm around the man’s shoulder. “Hey, handsome. Buy you a drink?” One of these days that was going to get him punched.
The man jerked away, fists clenched.
Possibly today.
“Carina,” Tara pushed enthusiasm into her voice, and rested a hand on the blonde’s back. “I’m sorry I’m late. I was worried you’d leave without me.”
The blonde whirled and expression softened. “I’m still here. Waiting for you.” She threw her arms around Tara’s neck. “It’s been too long.”
The man muttered something Tara couldn’t make out—though she was pretty sure she caught the words lesbian bitch—and walked away.
“Thank you.” The blonde stepped out of the hug, but stayed close enough her arm brushed Tara’s.
Tara wasn’t going to make the same assumption the creep did. Time for her to make a graceful exit. “Will you be all right?” She hoped the blonde spoke English. She didn’t want to exclude Nathan from the conversation.
“I’d be better with company. Unless you two have someplace to be.”
A couple approached, and the man gestured to the barstools next to them. “Are you sitting?”
Nathan nodded at a row of booths against a far wall. “We’d love to keep you company. Someplace out of the view of the creepers?”
“The seats are free,” the blonde said to the couple. She pointed out a table as away from the crowds as was possible, then slid into the same side of the booth as Tara. She may not be as shy as she initially seemed. “I’m Aria.”
“I’m Tara. This is Nathan.”
“My knights in shining armor.”
Tara liked the idea of rescuing a maiden in distress. It wasn’t why she’d stepped in, but it sounded noble. “I’d say anyone would have done the same, but...”
“But they didn’t.” Aria traced her finger along her bottom lip. “Can I say thank you in any way?”
Definitely not shy. Tara took a chance that she was reading the moment right. “That’s not why I did it. I won’t trade a genuine action for a kiss. But I will take one because you want to give it. As long as you don’t mind my boyfriend watching.” It was direct, but she’d rather put the reality out there now, than deceiv
e Aria about the situation.
“I’d be disappointed otherwise.” Aria studied Tara through her lashes. She darted her head up and brushed her lips over Tara’s.
That was nice. No fireworks, but a pleasant tingle raced through Tara. She rested a hand on Aria’s cheek and kissed her more deeply. She tasted like bubblegum and vodka.
Tara tried to pour herself into the moment. When she and Nathan dated other people, it wasn’t always a three-way situation. When it was, Tara enjoyed being part of the show.
She was pleasantly surprised when Aria shifted to straddle Tara’s legs, never breaking the kiss. Tara nipped at Aria’s lips, eliciting a moan.
Aria ground against her legs, building friction. This was nice. So why couldn’t Tara get into it?
It’s too easy.
They were in a bar where people came to hook-up. Easy wasn’t unusual.
She knotted her fingers in Aria’s hair, wanting to fall into the moment. Nathan’s groan said he was enjoying watching as much as Tara liked being part of the performance.
Aria trailed her fingers down Tara’s free arm, to her hand, then glided both their palms under her shirt. “Unless you’re worried about getting caught.” Aria’s tone was playful.
Tara shook her head. “They can watch, join in, or fuck off.” She slid higher, to tease Aria’s breast, and earned a gasp.
“I like the way you think.” Aria pressed closer, stealing another kiss.
Tara dragged her mouth along Aria’s neck, down to the hollow at the base of her throat, the licked a line back up to her ear. It was dark enough here that they could get away with a lot without being seen.
Did Tara want to?
Of course she did. Gorgeous woman in her lap while Nathan watched? Perfect distraction.
Then why wouldn’t her mind shut up?
“You’re the ex wife, aren’t you?” Aria murmured against Tara’s mouth.
Tara’s blood ran cold, and she dropped her hands. “I’ve been married. I’m not now.”
Aria squirmed against her, and brushed her lips along her collarbone. “His ex. The one everyone’s talking about.” Her voice grew husky, and her breath was hot on Tara’s skin. “I knew you’d be fun. I can’t wait to tell my friends I made out with you.”
Tara shouldn’t care, but she hated the idea of being someone’s bragging rights, based on Marco. “We’re done.” She half-pushed Aria from her lap, half-knocked her on the floor, in her rush to stand.
“Come back.” Aria grabbed her wrist. “This is fun. You already know people talk.”
“Yeah, I do. That doesn’t mean I have to listen.”
Tara was grateful when Nathan wrapped an arm around her waist and steered her away. “Do you want to go home?” he asked.
“No.” Because she wasn’t going to tuck her tail between her legs and run. She’d hold her head up high, stay here, and get wasted. “I want a bottle of whatever’s most expensive on the top shelf.”
CHAPTER FIVE
NATHAN TOOK TARA’S hand. “Come on, Bella, it’s time to leave.”
“Do we have to?” Her pout was exaggerated and her words slurred.
“Don’t you want to?” It was easier to talk now. The bar had emptied over the last few hours, until they were two of only a dozen or so people left.
She hopped from her stool, stumbling when her feet hit the ground. He wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her.
“I guess there are worse places. You’ll be there. That makes it better.”
He kept a secure grip on her, ensuring they walked mostly straight when they got outside. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Why did he do this to me?”
Nathan didn’t have to ask who, but Marco had committed a mile long list of sins against Tara. “Which part?”
“Any of it. All of it. It was his idea originally, to keep the relationship open.”
Nathan had heard most of these stories. He didn’t mind listening again. “Because he wanted to see other women?”
“That’s not the way he phrased it.” Tara’s laugh was bitter. “He said it was because we both had so much love to give, we shouldn’t be bound to one person.”
“Too bad he didn’t believe it.”
She leaned into him. “Yeah. Too bad.”
Silence fell between them as they walked.
Tara and Marco’s entire story was a fairy tale gone bad. No, that wasn’t quite right. It was more like tabloid fodder of the highest caliber. Two rich kids who grew up pushed together by their families, who realized despite their determination to not get along, really enjoyed each other's company.
Best friends became lovers, and they were married in college. The wedding was the most fairy tale part of the relationship—huge and expensive, with images plastered across social media and local celebrity magazines.
Tara didn’t keep any photos of it, but a simple Google search turned up dozens.
When Marco suggested they keep their marriage open, Tara didn’t know what to think of it. She fell into it, though, realizing he was right. She liked being open to love more than one person.
But when Marco got into politics, he asked that they stop. Insisted people wouldn’t understand, and didn’t she want him to be happy in his career?
She’d stopped dating anyone else, or even looking. Marco hadn’t, though she didn’t realize it at the time. Not until he hired Nathan to prove his wife was sleeping around.
Nathan didn’t have to do much talking to find out Marco was the one cheating. When the news hit the media, Marco blamed his slutty wife, and the backlash against Tara was harsh.
“Why am I so fucked up?” Tara leaned her head against Nathan’s shoulder.
He hated the pain behind the question. That part of her agreed with the bad press. She hid it most of the time, but when she was drunk, it came out. “You’re not,” he said.
They reached their place. He unlocked the door and let them in, making sure to bolt everything behind them.
Tara was already making her way to the stairs. “Uh-huh. I dragged you to the bar, because my feelings were hurt, and made you watch me make out with some woman who, it turned out, cared more about my fucked-up-ness than she did about the rest of me.” She stumbled on the first step.
“You didn’t drag me anywhere. I’m always a willing participant.” He took her hand, and they climbed to the second floor. Guilt gnawed at him. Would she be like this tonight if he hadn’t needed to prove to Lenny—to himself—he could pull off the database hack? Nathan had re-opened these wounds.
She stripped off her shirt as she walked. He was impressed she kept her balance in the process. By the time they reached the bedroom, she was kicking off her shoes and jeans.
She whirled on her toe, wobbled, then threw her arms around his neck. “You know I love you, right?”
“I love you too.” He brushed his lips over hers.
“Good.” Tara tugged the bottom of his shirt. “You can’t sleep in your clothes. And I’m tired.”
Hands on her hips, he guided her to sit on the mattress, then undressed. His own nagging wouldn’t shut up. You did this.
“What’s wrong?” Her question was abruptly lucid.
Nathan met her gaze, and she stared back, bleariness gone from her expression. “Nothing. Why do you ask?”
She crawled under the covers, and patted the spot next to her. “Because I know you. Something’s wrong.”
“We’ll talk about it when you’re not drunk.” He lay next to her.
She curled up with her head on his shoulder. They wouldn’t stay that way through the night, but he liked holding her like this.
“I’m not that drunk.”
She was. A couple of clear questions didn’t erase the last couple hours of shots.
“In the morning,” he said.
“Now.”
He didn’t want to argue, and he did want this out in the open. “That list that came out today? Lenny released it. I helped him get it. Got it f
or him.”
“Oh. Okay.” Tara pressed a line of kisses along his chest, then rested her cheek against his skin. A heartbeat later, her breathing slowed and evened out.
If confession was supposed to be good for the soul, why did he still feel like shit?
COMPETITION VIDEOS played in the background while Nick worked. It wasn’t as good as giving them his full attention, but he enjoyed hearing the different personalities.
He sifted through his budget again. The little things were adding up, savings-wise, but it wasn’t enough. Their company account was too close to zero for his liking, and that wouldn’t change until the next Rinslet payment came through in several days.
Tara’s voice filtered through his speakers, and he switched screens to the video. This was the first clip he’d played, and if it was back up, he was finished with the playlist.
He should shut it down. See if Parker had posted something new, or just turn on music.
Instead, he found himself watching Tara work. She was crazy talented. The way she filled in lines and colors was fluid and smooth. It might as well have been edited or time lapse, but he’d watched the live stream. She was just that good.
He also knew she and Nathan were together. They didn’t hide it in their videos, and meeting them in person, it was easy to see the chemistry translated to electric off-camera.
Nick was admiring her work though. Not looking to intrude on a good thing.
Romance was secondary in Nick’s life. He’d tried dating a few times over the years. In college, it took a few failed relationships to realize not everyone had the same priorities as he did, when it came to work. He didn’t deal well with accusations that he never spent enough time with his girlfriend.
Once he figured that out, he tried to be honest about it. Let any new woman in his life know that he was a workaholic and not interested in changing. A couple of them said they understood, but tried to correct his behavior anyway.
It was easier for him, and anyone involved, if he hooked up when he wanted to get laid, and then left the next morning. He was always honest about it, and so far the one-night-stands-only approach served him better than pretending he could offer the kind of attention to a relationship that most partners expected and deserved.
Beauty Claimed Page 4