Her breathing came faster, creating a shimmering ripple in the clingy dress that made his blood pound with desire. He might be way beyond taming.
"I'd like to wring your neck." Her eyes were narrowed to stormy slits.
"Go ahead and try." He squinted. "It's pretty big, so I'm not sure you'll be able to get your hands around it. But you never know."
She sucked in a sharp breath and went for it. He had no idea what was really going through her mind, presumably not a public strangulation at his dad's party. Maybe she couldn't turn down the challenge that her hands wouldn't fit around his neck.
Naturally, he took advantage of the opportunity to grab her around the waist. She wriggled and her silky dress slid under his fingers. Her high heels raised her hips to just below his, so her pelvis crushed delightfully against his thickening flesh.
"Let me go!"
"You let me go first." His voice turned gruff, as blood rushed from his brain and vocal cords to more southern parts of his anatomy.
Her cool fingers pressed into the back of his neck. "See, they do fit!"
"Not enough to get a good squeeze going."
Her face was about two inches from his and the sweet scent of her skin drove him crazy.
Her lip curled. "You're right. Neanderthal!"
"Tell me about it. I have to get my shirts specially made."
Her lips now hovered about a half inch from his. She still didn't have a lick of makeup on, which was downright arrogant, given her job.
No wonder he couldn't resist her.
Her hands still rested on his neck, her fingers warming against his skin. They stared each other down, eyes glittering in the semidarkness.
He stared down and she stared up, since he still had several inches on her. Which made it somewhat imperative that he make the first move.
Happy to oblige.
He dusted her lips with a kiss so light their skin barely touched.
Her lips parted. She released her fingers from around his neck, and he braced for her to push back, but instead she surprised him by sliding her hand down over his shoulder, and along his bicep. She gave it a squeeze.
"You are solid, aren't you?"
Her slim fingers pressed against his skin through the cotton of his T-shirt and made his hairs stand on end. Her straining breasts bumped against his chest, squeezing the breath from his lungs.
"You're driving me out of my mind," he muttered with the last shreds of coherent thought in his brain.
"Good." Bella flashed a smoky-gray gaze at him, then stood on tiptoe, closed her eyes, and planted her lips firmly on his.
He held her tight in his arms as they kissed, pressing her sumptuous body to his, as shock waves of sensation rippled through his muscles.
He hugged her closer, enjoying the warm, soft feel of her as their tongues tangled. He reveled in the cool satin of her cheek against his, the silky fall of her unbound hair.
He loved the way she didn't try to fight him off because she felt she should, out of misplaced propriety or feminine cunning. She didn't "play nice."
And now he knew the reason for the shadows in those big gray eyes. He understood that her furtive quest to sue his father was driven by deep love for and loyalty to her family.
That touched him in a way he couldn't put into words.
Dominic dragged in a deep breath as Bella's hands roamed over the muscles of his back. His own fingers crept around to the front to enjoy the fullness of her beautiful breasts, unbound inside their shimmering dress.
Oh, Bella.
He wasn't sure if he said it out loud, or just thought it. That stopped him in his tracks. He needed to keep his head.
He pulled back, blinking in the reflected strobing of the lights from the dance floor. She frowned at him, her eyes dark with passion and her lips moist. The halter strings of her dress had gotten twisted, and the front revealed rather more cleavage than the designer had intended.
Dominic sucked in a breath, trying to send blood and oxygen back to his brain, which apparently only had enough to fuel the one track that was working right now.
Bella's cheeks were flushed pink, which gave her far more radiance than any slap-on preparation sold at Hardcastle Enterprises. He fumbled with her golden strings, trying to make her decent. Which was a challenge, when all he wanted to do was loosen their knot and enjoy the simple pleasures of making her entirely indecent.
A prickling sensation on the back of his neck made him look past the glowing skin of her cheek. In the shadows about thirty feet away, he could make out the slim, white-clad form of Samantha, his father's wife.
Watching.
Nine
D ominic frowned. He couldn't figure out Samantha's angle. The press mocked her as a gold digger for marrying an older man with a terminal illness. But from what he'd heard, she was behind the whole push to find Tarrant's lost children, who would then presumably be rivals for the gold she was digging.
She might look like a pampered society princess, but he'd already seen she was fierce as a tiger when it came to protecting her sick husband. Did she suspect him of toying with his father's affections?
Samantha couldn't be too happy to see him fooling around with Bella, since she'd been at the breakfast when Tarrant had demanded that Bella be fired, and Dominic had insisted that she stay.
"Dominic." She started toward him, high white heels silent on the carpet. She managed a tight smile at Bella. "They're setting out the buffet. Do come down and eat. Your sister, Fiona, chose all the entrées and she'd love to know what you think about them. It's new for us having a food expert in the family."
In the family. Her words echoed in his lust-addled brain.
His familiar self-defensive recoil mingled with a rush of new emotion. This small and complicated group of people was starting to feel like his family, despite all the strings and baggage attached.
He turned to Bella. "Shall we go down?"
Alarm filled her eyes and she tugged at the waist of her dress, which was slightly askew. "You go. I'll just freshen up first."
"Great idea." Samantha's eyes brightened. "I'll come with you."
Bella blinked. Samantha smiled.
Dominic's muscles tightened as he wondered what the heck Samantha was up to.
In the ladies' room, Samantha disappeared into a stall. Bella splashed cold water on her cheeks and patted them with a towel. Which didn't do a thing to cool her overheated skin. Her heart raced and her stomach kept turning backflips. What was Dominic playing at?
She'd come to the party intending to be cool, polite and professional. But around Dominic her circuits overloaded, and she couldn't do anything but melt in his arms. You'd think that with her scientific background she'd be able to figure out what was going on at the cellular level and put a stop to it. Or at least come up with a hypothesis to test.
Preferably under controlled, laboratory conditions.
She blew out a breath and tossed a strand of hair off her forehead. Tried not to picture all those nanoparticles jumping between them, penetrating tissue and causing subtle molecular changes that threatened to alter the underlying structures.
Turning her into putty in his broad, confident hands.
"Are you okay?"
"Uh, sure." Bella swallowed hard when she saw Samantha in the mirror behind her. "Just a little hot from dancing."
Samantha moved in closer. "I love that new powder you created. It goes on so smoothly."
"Are you wearing it too?" The scientist in Bella couldn't help turning to peer at Samantha's flawless skin.
"Yes. Tarrant wanted me to try it. He likes to think of me as his canvas for new ideas." She smiled, as if that was quite okay with her.
Bella blinked and turned back to the mirror. Her own bare skin still bore an undignified flush. She wouldn't do too well as anyone's canvas. "Your skin looks great, but I doubt you need it."
"Don't be so sure." Sam caught her eye in the mirror as she washed her hands. "When someone you love is sick, it takes a big toll on you."
Bella's gut tightened. "I know."
"Do you?" Sam turned to stare directly at her.
Bella groped for an appropriate response, but it was all too much, her dad's illness, her mom's horrifying descent into a twilight world-from which Dominic of all people had unexpectedly snatched her back.
Her lips parted but no words came out.
Sam turned back to the mirror and applied some lipstick. "It's tough pretending everything's great when you know it really isn't. Maybe that's the hardest part."
Again, Bella didn't know what to say. She cursed herself for being a stereotypical geek who didn't know how to handle awkward human situations. "Tarrant looks very healthy," she managed. Then kicked herself for sounding so insincere.