Millionaire's Secret Seduction(3)

"The disco scene." She'd heard Tarrant had a reputation as the most die-hard partier of the twentieth century.

"At that time he wasn't so interested in the responsibilities of  fatherhood." His jaw tightened. "But lately it seems he's had a change  of heart."

Silence thickened the air.

Ping. The sound of the doors opening was possibly the best music she'd heard all year.

Had this total stranger just admitted to her that he was Tarrant  Hardcastle's unwanted bastard son? His oddly intimate confession gave  her a strange feeling.

The restaurant was already packed. The wait for reservations had been at least six months since it opened two years earlier.

"Dominic Hardcastle."

She thought she saw a muscle twitch in his cheek as he said his own name. Curiouser and curiouser.

"Welcome, sir. I'll seat you at Mr. Hardcastle's table." The maitre  d'beamed as Dominic congratulated him on the restaurant's success and  they shared some shoptalk on the way to the table. Did everyone fall at  this guy's feet?

The décor was extravagantly minimalist; a single, perfect banana leaf in  a slim black vase was the only centerpiece on each table.

Dominic pulled out a sleek metal chair, then slid it under her as she sat. Of course he'd have to be a perfect gentleman too.

She shook out her napkin. "I guess it's too early for the moon to make  an appearance. The ceiling rolls back to reveal the night sky."

Dominic looked up. She ignored the muscularity of his neck as it  strained his perfectly fitted shirt collar. "Can't say I'm sorry. I'm  not sure I'd want to worry about an owl swooping down to share my filet  mignon." His grin revealed even, white teeth.

"Oh, you don't have to fret about that. Or mosquitoes. There's a curved  layer of microfine molded plastic to keep intruders out. If you look  carefully you can see where it joins the support columns. All part of  the design conception."

Dominic stared at the ceiling with undisguised fascination. "Amazing.  Tarrant Hardcastle certainly is a genius, no matter what else you might  say about him." He opened his napkin. "Shall we order champagne?"

The barb about Tarrant left her temporarily speechless. Was he testing her somehow? "Sure, champagne sounds great."

"You'll have to tell me what food to choose, since I'm the new kid on the block."

That boyish grin again.

It was a shame she had no idea what was on the menu. "It's all good.  That's why people are willing to sell their soul to get a table."

Lucky thing she had an invite. She'd probably already parted with her  soul working at Hardcastle Enterprises for an entire year. That she was  doing it with a hidden agenda made it a certainty.

The poker-faced waiter handed them each a banana leaf with the night's dishes handwritten on it.

Dominic studied it for a moment, then started to laugh. "I feel bad for the guy back there with the Sharpie."

"Sharpie? He's probably grinding raw pigment to make the ink and  sharpening goose feathers into quills." She couldn't help sharing a  chuckle.

Dominic had three dimples. One in each cheek and one in his chin. Not that she liked dimples or anything.

They ordered-for her the pan-seared scallops and roasted quail, and for him raw oysters and steak tartare.                       
       
           



       

He raised his glass. "A toast. To the loveliest woman in Hardcastle Enterprises."

She narrowed her eyes and fought a blush. Bella! How can you fall for a  line as well worn as Tarrant Hardcastle's little black book?

"Flattery will get you everywhere." She raised her glass.



That's what I'm hoping. Dominic took a sip of champagne. Dry and crisp, an excellent choice.

There was something about this woman he couldn't put his finger on.  Reading people well-spotting their strengths and flaws and maximizing  one while minimizing the other-was the skill that enabled him to grow  his company so fast and with so much success.

Bella Andrews had a shield up, and apparently she wasn't going to let it  down. Yes, she was out with the boss's son, but he'd attempted to put  her at ease by pointing out that his connection to Tarrant was anything  but glamorous.

She hadn't relaxed one iota. And that intrigued him.

Her pink lips pressed against her champagne glass as she sipped. Not a trace of lipstick.

"I'm surprised you don't wear cosmetics, given your position." He leaned  back in his chair, to better survey the effect of his comment on her  beautifully unpainted face.

She blinked. The tips of her mascara-free eyelashes were golden. "They say you should stay away from your own product."

"A good rule for drug dealers. Are your products habit-forming?" He had a  feeling that looking at the sharp cupid's bow of her upper lip could be  habit-forming.

"I certainly hope so. Repeat business is where we stand to make the most profit."

"Is Hardcastle expanding its retail outlets?" He said it casually.  Managed to keep the words what the hell does Tarrant want with  fifty-three bankrupt drugstores? inside his mouth.

"Not that I know of. Our products sell best in upscale department stores  and boutique salons. The price point is too high for mass-market  retail. I do know Tarrant wants to find more outlets in China."

"Lack of posh department stores there?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. It's outside my area of expertise."

"Which is?"

"Tarr-er, your father hired me to develop new products. He likes to be on the cutting edge."

"How did he find you?"

She licked her lips, an awkward gesture of hesitation that sent a tongue  of heat through his groin. "Um, actually I approached him."

Her shield had just grown thicker. Apparently he was hovering around some kind of danger zone.

Interesting.

"How did you convince him to invest in research? Those photon  microscopes couldn't have been cheap." He leaned forward as the waiter  deposited her plate. He could almost smell her alarm over the scent of  the sautéed scallops. "You must be very convincing."

"I told him he had no choice. The market is changing. Nanotechnology  makes an entirely different type of cosmetic possible. Smearing cover-up  over blemishes will be obsolete once people discover our  light-refracting products."

"Maybe you should take it one step further and invent a cloak of invisibility."

She blanched. Her fork stopped in midair on its way to her mouth and her brow furrowed.

Dominic's heart kicked up a notch. "Is that what you're doing?"

She let out a forced laugh. "Of course not." She glanced at her scallop, then popped it in her mouth.

Something was definitely up with this one. Doing something she wasn't  supposed to. The question remained whether Tarrant was in on it, or not.

He picked up an oyster shell. Stared right at her while he sipped the  cool, slippery creature into his mouth and swallowed it whole.

She didn't blink, but her lips parted. She dragged her eyes away and snatched up her water glass.

"You're young to be in such a position of authority." He sipped his champagne. "You must be smart."

Maybe too smart for the good of the company.

"Oh, I don't know." She shrugged again and her slim shoulders moved  inside her silky blouse. The soft fabric slid over the breasts.

"You're no slouch yourself." She speared another scallop. "I overheard  you talking to the retail associates about your business. For someone  who didn't grow up inside the Hardcastle empire you seem to have done  well for yourself."                       
       
           



       

"I do all right."

Bella watched him knock back another oyster. She blinked as he swallowed it and it slid down his throat.

As she'd guessed in the lab, this man liked his food raw. He must enjoy  living on the edge. Nothing added an adrenaline rush to a meal like the  possibility of an invigorating dose of botulism.

She couldn't let herself be sidetracked by his quietly admiring glances.  She had a growing suspicion that if Dominic Hardcastle got the chance,  he'd eat her alive. He was the enemy. His father destroyed her father.  If he knew what she was up to he'd chew her up and spit her out without a  second thought.

She blew out a breath and ate her last scallop.

Funny how just the way a man looked at you could make you feel like … a woman.

She must have been spending too much time in the lab with scientists who  got turned on by photons rather than by humans. She dressed to impress  every day just to fly under the radar at Hardcastle, and she was used to  the cool stares of appraisal that rewarded her efforts. They didn't  compare in any way with the raw, earthy appreciation she read in Dominic  Hardcastle's gaze.

"How did you get into retail?" she asked, to get her mind off the way  his long-lashed eyes heated her skin with their steady regard.