Millionaire's Secret Seduction(4)

"Necessity." He lifted another oyster shell to his lips and leveled a  dark look at her. "I started selling stuff in the playground when I was  eight. You see, I had this deadbeat dad who didn't pitch in, so I had to  help my mom."

He tipped the oyster into his mouth and gulped it down.

"Touching." She sipped her champagne to distract herself from the movement of his Adam's apple as he swallowed.

"Yeah." His dimples appeared. "Then I got bitten by the capitalist bug.  Never looked back. When I was fifteen I convinced my mom to give me my  Catholic school fees and let me go to the public school instead. I  figured I could turn that cash into enough money to go to college and  start my own business."

"And she let you?"

"She wasn't happy about it, but she's never regretted it."

"Guess you make a case for nature over nurture. What made Tarrant track you down after all these years?"

"I'm sure you know he has terminal prostate cancer. He's been given a  few months to live and that made him realize you can't take it with you.  Apparently he's looking for someone to hand the jeweled scepter to."

Of course she knew. Everyone did. The dilemma of who would inherit his  empire had been front-page news since the story of his illness broke.

Not that anyone in the company would dare utter a word about it within these hallowed walls.

But something bugged her. "Doesn't he have a daughter?"

"Yes. Fiona. But she's young. Maybe he thinks she's too inexperienced?"

"Or maybe he wants a male heir?"

Dominic's brows lowered. "He certainly never had any interest in one  before. After denying paternity for thirty-two years he's suddenly  decided to clutch me to his well-clad bosom."

"He literally denied paternity?"

"Yup." Dominic's hard-edged expression didn't falter.

She couldn't even imagine what it would be like to have a parent refuse  your existence. Her parents had always been her closest friends in the  world.

It hurt so much that her dad was gone. And that her mom was … She took in a  deep breath to banish a dangerous surge of emotion. "Did your mother  ever try to take him to court?"

"She tried. She wanted to send me to a decent school. She was hoping to  get some money to move us to a better neighborhood or pay for private  school. Tarrant's lawyers got the case thrown out of court."

"How did they do that?"

His jaw hardened. "It was before DNA. They just laughed off the idea  that a big shot like Tarrant Hardcastle would be fooling around with an  ordinary girl from Brooklyn, and the judge believed him."

Bella let out a slow breath. "I'd be mad."

Something flickered in his eyes. "Yeah." He picked up his champagne  glass and knocked the rest of it back. "Lucky thing I've got better  things to worry about, huh?"                       
       
           



       

"They do say living well is the best revenge."

"Then I guess we're both getting revenge on someone." A crooked smile slid across his lips.

The waiter put plates, artfully arranged with their expensive entrées,  in front of them and placed another champagne bottle in the bucket of  ice.

If you only knew.

Living well didn't mean a thing if there was a white flame of anger  burning inside you. Her father had been so close to fulfilling his  dream. After enduring decades of snide laughter from peers and so-called  colleagues, he'd finally come within reach of manipulating particles to  alter their surface properties.

Even his fantasy of a cloak of invisibility was no longer a laughing matter.

Then Tarrant Hardcastle had bullied him into selling his life's work for  a pittance. With his dreams gone, he succumbed to undiagnosed heart  disease and was gone within months.

Her chest tightened. She wouldn't wish that death on anyone, not even  Tarrant Hardcastle. But she would get her father's work back and make  his dream come true.

She owed it to him.

A long shadow across the tablecloth jolted her back to reality.

"Dominic!" Two striking women materialized next to him, one on each  side. A statuesque redhead in a tight green number bent to kiss his  cheek, while an ebony-skinned beauty in a slinky cream sheath grabbed  his hand. "You didn't tell us you were coming to town. We'll have to  punish you." Her accent sounded French.

Dominic put down his fork, rose and gave each girl an intimate kiss on  the cheek. Bella stabbed her innocent quail as a wave of irritation rose  in her chest.

Dominic's dimples appeared. "Bella, I'd like you to meet two of my best clients."

Two arms as long as javelins stuck out at her and she shook their  perfectly manicured hands. Luckily she managed not to cut herself on the  array of sparkling rocks decorating their shapely fingers.

Dominic introduced them and both their names sounded vaguely familiar. Probably former supermodels.

As they towered over her, Bella's contact lenses seemed to morph back  into the thick glasses she'd worn as a teen. Her blouse and skirt felt  as glamorous as her lab coat. And she'd dared to imagine that Dominic  Hardcastle was attracted to her?

Must be delusional.

She shoved a stray strand of hair off her forehead. "Nice to meet you.  Dominic asked me to show him around Hardcastle Enterprises. He wanted to  try the restaurant." She blushed, suddenly feeling pathetic that she  had to explain what a man like Dominic would be doing in an expensive  restaurant with a nondescript scientist.

"Bella's a genius." Dominic had his arms around both hourglass waists.  "She's in charge of cosmetics research. She's going to make everyone in  the world beautiful."

Bella's face heated further. Apparently he also felt the need to excuse her dullness.

"Would you like to join us?" She spoke up, her voice a little squeaky. She knew Dominic would rather be with them than her.

Dominic's smile disappeared and he lifted a brow at her.

"We can't, darling!" The redhead seized the opportunity to kiss his  cheek again. "We're just passing through on the way to tonight's party."

"They're event planners," Dominic explained. "They love to serve my products and pretend they paid a fortune for them."

The cream-dress girl leaned toward him. "Don't tell anyone how much you  charge for the mushroom paté." Her French accent gave her words an air  of sexy conspiracy. "The hostess is crazy for it. She thinks we buy it  from Paris by the ounce."

"It'll be our secret that it's two-fifty for a half-pound tub."  Dominic's dimples showed. "I doubt one of your clients would ever go  into an actual store, anyway. They have 'people' for that."

The two beauties threw their heads back in musical laughter.

Bella took a bracing swig of her champagne. She'd seen his stores here  and there-Trader Dan's, was that the name?-but had never actually been  in one. Apparently she'd been missing out.

She was in danger of shrinking out of existence altogether when both  girls chimed, "Must fly!" They kissed him on both cheeks, then back on  the first one. Three kisses. Each.                       
       
           



       

Bella managed to keep a poker face.

"You have lipstick on your cheeks," she said, as the goddesses stalked off toward the door.

Dominic shrugged. "Occupational hazard. I bet you know the best way to get it off."

"The fresh mayonnaise would work, but it might clog your pores. I'd go with the napkin if I were you."

Dominic scrubbed at his chiseled features with the white linen. "Better?"

"Much. I've never seen someone kiss three times before. It gets messy."

"That's how they do it in Europe. There it's just like shaking hands. You get used to it."

"I'll bet. Anyway, I must get going too." She stood. "It's been lovely." She gulped. "The food, I mean."

His eyes narrowed slightly.

She blinked. "And the company, of course. Very nice to meet you, Mr. Hardcastle."

"Dominic." His tone chastised her. He stood and slid his hand into hers. "I'm offended that you're abandoning me here."

"I'm afraid I have a train to catch." She tried to release her hand, but  he tightened his firm but gentle hold on it. "I need to visit my  mother."

His espresso-shot eyes fixed on hers. "Family's important."

"Yes. Well, I'd better be going." She tugged at her hand again. He didn't release it.

"No way you're leaving without a traditional European goodbye kiss. That  would add insult to injury." He tilted his head. His dark eyes  glittered.

Deep breath and get it over with. She leaned forward. The warm salty  musk of his skin assaulted her as he lowered his head and pressed his  cheek to hers. She kissed the air by his ear and tried to ignore the  strange shivery sensation in her arms and legs.