Innocent of His Claim. Janette Kenny
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disposition was soured by the fact his body stirred at being near her again. That his heart thundered despite the anger cracking like sheet lightning along his nerves.
No woman but Delanie had ever brought those explosive emotions out in him, but with that intense desire came fear. A cold choking fear that he’d never understood until he’d returned to Italy ten years ago and yanked the dark shroud off his past.
He should let Delanie go. Cut his losses now and go home. But as his eyes locked on her trim backside running across the waiting room, he knew he couldn’t let her go. Not now. Not when he’d promised his sister that he would return to Italy with Delanie Tate.
He wouldn’t gain her compliance by crossing swords with her. But he damned sure wasn’t going to beg for her help either.
A smile flicked over his lips. He held what she wanted most. She would be the one begging.
“How much does Elite Affair mean to you?” he asked, just as she was a step away from sailing out the door.
She stopped, one hand pressed to the open doorjamb while the toe of one impossibly high black heel remained poised to push her out the door. Even in unrelieved black mourning, she was sexy as hell. And those damned shoes …
The strong, perfectly curved length of her leg and dainty foot in those take-me-now shoes brought back memories of her wearing similar footwear and nothing else. His body stirred, his blood heating to a most uncomfortable level. If not for the steely snap to her slender shoulders and the cool, almost hostile gaze she flung at him just then he would think the pose was staged to entice him.
“Well?” he prodded when she simply glared at him.
“You’re enjoying your victory at my expense.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he said. “My goal was to take down your father’s empire.”
“Which you did. Don’t expect me to congratulate you.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorjamb, enjoying this side of her. When he’d met her she’d been a combination of playful and meek, leaning more to meek in her father’s shadow.
But in the ensuing years Delanie had acquired bite and verve. The way she held herself and her ability to closet her emotions intrigued him. Not that he wanted to be intrigued again by this woman.
She’d tricked him once. He would never be so foolish as to totally trust her again.
Remembering that betrayal zinged an old burning sensation across his heart. “Are you going to answer my question?”
“Elite Affair means a great deal to me and you know it,” she said, slender shoulders straight and back painfully stiff.
“Then use your head. If you walk out that door now you will toss away any chance of regaining total control of the business you built.”
She went pale, or perhaps it was a trick of the light. “After what you’ve done, how can you expect me to trust you?”
“I don’t,” he said. “This is strictly business. I’ve taken the initiative to draft a mutually beneficial contract. Are you willing to listen to terms or do I fire your employees and liquidate Elite Affair?”
“You’d do that to a profitable business?”
“In a heartbeat.”
Her small hands bunched at her sides and the mouth he’d dreamed of kissing into submission in the dead of night drew into a tight unyielding knot that slammed straight into his gut.
Dammit, he’d expected a tearful confession that she had worked with her father against him, followed by his magnanimous offer to hire her for his sister’s wedding, with Delanie’s reward being a fat check plus title to her company. But she was resisting him at every turn. Showing spunk and a stubborn bent that challenged him—aroused him.
Not that he would back off no matter what she said or did. He’d come this far and there was no retreat. No concession.
His gaze locked with hers and he caught that flicker of doubt. It was a battle of wills and in that he had the upper hand because he held what she wanted most. Elite Affair.
“Fine. We talk,” she snapped, not sparing him a glance.
She had conceded as he’d expected her to do. So why didn’t he feel victorious?
Delanie slammed the door she’d been about to escape through and strode back into her father’s oppressive office, passing him with a swish of her long hair. Ever the reigning princess.
He loosed a smile, enjoying the sight of her full bottom beneath her unbecoming black dress. His gaze remained on those long dainty legs that were deceptively strong, that had once clung tightly to his hips in the throes of passion.
Certainly if he put his mind to it he could have her back in his arms, back in his bed. And that was a complication he had no intention of taking on. Too much was at stake to risk satisfying his libido no matter how tempting. And she damned sure was tempting!
Ironic that the only passion between them now was anger and that shimmered off her in sizzling waves. Even that set his pulse racing, he admitted, sobering instantly.
If only he could cease wanting her more than he’d ever wanted a woman. If only he could purge her from his system once and for all.
He gave his French cuffs a tug and followed her into the room, shutting the door and his emotions firmly behind him. She visibly jumped and he swore.
“Relax,” he said. “I don’t intend to pounce on you.”
“Excuse me for not trusting you,” she said, still presenting her painfully straight back to him.
He fisted his hands, resisting the urge to cross to her and force her to face him. Touching her would be a major mistake.
“That goes both ways, Delanie.”
She whirled to face him, features pinched tight. “If you distrust me so, then why do you want to negotiate with me?”
“I don’t,” he said frankly. “As I told you before, you are the bride’s choice.”
“And you’d do anything to please her.”
“Yes,” he bit out, “but—”
“Including corporate rape,” she interjected, chin thrust out and accusing eyes fixed on him.
He stiffened, the explanation poised on his tongue forgotten. “My takeover of Tate Unlimited was aboveboard.”
“Perhaps,” she said, chin up. “But your motive was revenge, proving you’re no better than my father.”
His fingers wadded into fists. “Never compare me to him.”
The warning was given in the strong, flat monotone that always convinced his opponents to switch topics. Color instantly bloomed on her too-pale cheeks, like vibrant English roses blooming amid snow, but her chin remained up and her gaze glittered defiance.
“Are you denying you acted out of vengeance?” she asked.
“No. But if I was in the same league as your father I would overextend Tate Unlimited until it was destroyed, as he did to my vineyard.”
Lines creased her delicate brow. “What?”
He drove his fingers through his hair and swallowed a curse. “Do not pretend you weren’t aware of its downfall.”
“I had no idea.” She shook her head, voice soft, big blue eyes wide. “Please tell me the truth.”
The look, the plea … That’s all it took to shift his plans off kilter. To get him thinking about her. In his arms. In his bed.
Her innocent act was worthy of an award, he thought grimly.
“You