His Sweet Revenge: Wedding Vow of Revenge / His Ultimate Prize / Bound by a Child. Katherine Garbera
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sound of Angelo’s voice, her entire body flushing with warmth and she hadn’t even turned to look at him.
When she did, she felt like she’d been hit by a truck. Why did the man have to be so darn sexy? Most of his management team was at least a decade older, balding and showing the effects of middle age in their belt size, but not Angelo. He was tall and lean with muscles to die for and if he was much over thirty, she’d eat the report she’d been editing.
“I was working on a project and got lost to the time.”
“What about this workplace effectiveness model you’ve been trying to sell to management? Doesn’t that include going home on time?”
She shrugged guiltily. “Theory doesn’t always work in reality.”
He smiled, white teeth flashing in his gorgeous face. “No, it doesn’t, but if you’re going to convince my management team of your theories, you’re going to have to live and work by them.”
“You’re right, of course.” She sighed, wishing life was as easy as putting ideas down on paper. “I guess you got caught up in something, too?”
His expression cooled for no reason she could discern. “I was putting together the plans for a new acquisition.”
“You’re buying another company?”
Satisfaction flashed in his eyes, but they remained strangely chilled. “Yes.”
“Um…congratulations.”
“Thank you.” He ran his fingers through the short, dark curls on his head, leaving them mussed and looking way too enticing for her own good. “Have you had dinner?”
“No. I’ll stop and get something on the way home.” She turned and grabbed her suit jacket off the hook on the cubicle wall behind her desk.
As she did so, she realized the sheer white camisole that looked perfectly acceptable under the jacket was much too thin for a business environment without it. It had gotten warm and she hadn’t even been aware of taking the jacket off, but now she wished she hadn’t gotten quite so engrossed in her work.
Looking down, she could see the shadow of nipples that had hardened upon her boss’s arrival and was darn sure he could, too.
“Have dinner with me.” His voice betrayed nothing, but he made no pretense of ignoring the display. Dark indigo eyes flicked from her breasts to her face. “Well?”
Sensation zinged through her, making her tight peaks sting and she shoved her arms into the sleeves of her suit jacket.
Panicked at how tempting the invitation was and the desperate reaction of her body, she blurted the first excuse that came to her mind. “I’m really not all that hungry.”
Her stomach gave immediate lie to her words with an audible growl and she had to bite back a groan of embarrassment.
“Are you sure about that?”
“Uh…”
“Look, Tara, I’m simply interested in sharing some company for dinner. I eat enough meals alone to get tired of it. Stop worrying. I’m not going to pounce.”
That was the second time he’d assured her on that score, but she was beginning to think it wasn’t him pouncing she had to be concerned about.
“I’m sure you’re not short on companions you could call on.” She couldn’t keep the cynical conjecture from her voice.
“You’d be surprised. I’ve never found the company of women with dollar signs in their eyes all that alluring.”
She gave him a frank once-over. “Like women are only interested in you for your money.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“Yes.” She’d never been good at prevaricating. She hated lies, no more so than since she’d been lied to so spectacularly by Baron Randall.
“If you find me attractive, why not have dinner with me?”
“Because you are who you are and I am who I am.”
“You mean the whole multimillionaire and junior-management trainee thing?” he asked with droll humor.
She found herself smiling. “Yes, that thing.”
“Why don’t we pretend to be nothing more than an unattached man looking for the company of a woman he admires a great deal for dinner?”
He admired her a great deal? That was a different line than Baron’s had been anyway. He’d been so focused on her beauty and then her sexual innocence, he’d barely given credence to her brain.
“All right, but let’s keep it simple. It’s late.”
“Do you have any suggestions?”
She did and couldn’t help being surprised when he willingly let her direct him to a chain restaurant known for its quick and friendly service. The food was good, but not exactly five-star. Apparently, Angelo didn’t care about eating only in the best restaurants.
She liked that and told him so.
He shrugged. “When you have the freedom and finances to eat where you want, why limit yourself? Besides, this was one of my dad’s favorite restaurants when I was growing up.”
“You grew up in the Pacific Northwest?”
“Seattle.”
“Wow…I guess I thought all big business tycoons came from New York.”
He laughed. “I have an apartment there. Does that shore up your image of me?”
“That depends…do you call it home?”
“I don’t call anywhere home. I travel too much. I have a house in Palermo that would probably be the closest thing.”
“Do you speak Italian?”
“Fluently.”
“Oh…I took French in high school, but I was always more interested in numbers than languages.”
“I’m fluent in several. It comes with the territory, but my mother spoke Italian to me always and we spent part of every year in Sicily with her family.”
“You said she was Sicilian earlier…is she no longer alive?”
“She and my father died within two years of each other.”
“I’ve heard about that kind of devotion…one can’t go on living without the other.” She’d always questioned it though…wondering if two people could ever really be that necessary to each other.
His face contorted as if in pain, but then went so blank she had to wonder if she’d imagined the first expression. “They loved each other very much.”
He said it so coldly, as if he was unmoved by his parents’ emotion.
Still…“Their deaths must have been very hard on you.”
“I survived.”
She nodded. He was too strong not to have done, but she wondered for just a second what the cost had been for him to be so detached about it now.
“My dad walked when I was two.” Tara said after a silent pause. “He didn’t know the meaning of the word devotion.” Or commitment. Or love for that matter.
“Did your mother remarry?”
“Eventually. I had a few uncles who were every bit as allergic to the c-word as my dad before Darren Colby, my step-father, came into our lives.”
“That doesn’t sound like an ideal childhood.”
“That’s one way of putting it.” She laughed, shocked at herself for sharing so much with a man she was determined not to get involved with.
The