"We're going to get everything sorted out." His breath was hot on her ear. "You and Tarrant, me and Tarrant, and you and me."
You and me.
His pledge echoed in every chamber of her own heart.
Did she dare believe he was right?
His voice reverberated with conviction. With hope. She allowed that hope to bloom in her chest and grow into a vision of the future that was so beautiful as to be downright frightening.
This man had already wrought changes in her life that rivaled the nanotechnology breakthroughs in her lab. Shifts in the way she perceived things, transformations in underlying structure, new possibilities that she would never have previously imagined.
Dominic was falling in love with her. She could sense it in his touch, hear it in his voice, feel it reflected in the strange, new and astonishing feelings she now felt for him.
But he had developed feelings for his long-lost father. He loved Tarrant Hardcastle too.
And if he was forced to choose between them, this night of tender passion could be their last.
Eleven
D ominic stepped off the elevator in the corporate offices to find Tarrant standing in the area between the bank of elevators and the reception desk, holding a folded newspaper.
"What the hell is this?" Tarrant lifted the paper. "I knew I should have crushed her like a bug when I had the chance."
"Tarrant," Samantha clung to his arm. "Don't overexcite yourself. You know how the media can be."
"What's going on?" Dominic held out his hand and Tarrant gave him the paper.
The headline smacked him in the face-Hardcastle Hijinks: Heir in Secret Affair Dominic squinted then read it again.
This was not good.
"Your girlfriend is what's going on," roared Tarrant. "She put a story in the paper about how I screwed her poor genius father out of his life's work. It goes on to add that she's blackmailing my newfound heir to keep her secret, seducing him with sex while she develops her scheme to sue the company."
Dominic scanned the front page article.
Damn. He wasn't exaggerating.
"'Flamboyant egomaniac?'" Tarrant slapped at the paper with his fingers. "That's defamation of character. They're damn right someone's going to be getting sued around here."
Dominic reread the final paragraph.
Tarrant Hardcastle's empire has long been the flagship for luxury retail. Known for his ruthless treatment of competitors and friends alike, the thrice-married ladies' man is famous for a heart as flinty as the Manhattan bedrock. Now terminally ill, the flamboyant egomaniac has laid his empire open to siege by placing his trust in an illegitimate son he once rejected. So anxious is he for dashing retail maverick Dominic Di Bari to take his place at the helm, that he can overlook anything, even dirty dealings beneath his nose that strike at the heart of the Hardcastle empire.
"How did they get this information?" Dominic glanced up.
Tarrant's aqua eyes glinted with fury. "You're asking me? You know how. From that Mata Hari in white polyester you convinced me to keep on even after you found out she wanted to sue me."
"No." Dominic looked back at the paper. "Bella would never do this."
"You're blind. Of course she did. Who else would know enough?"
Dominic glanced at Samantha, who shrugged, her shoulders tense.
"Mr. Hardcastle," the receptionist behind them spoke up. "You wanted to know when Miss Andrews arrived. Sylvester said she's just entered the building."
"Wait until I get my hands on that little-"
"Tarrant!" Sam plucked at his sleeve.
"Let me talk to her," said Dominic. "Give me a few minutes and I'll see what she knows about this. She won't lie to me."
"That's what you think," muttered Tarrant.
"Let him try," pleaded Sam. She turned to Dominic. "We'll go into your father's office. Bring her there when you're ready."
Dominic took the elevator down to the lab. He got there first and was standing outside her elevator when the doors opened. He couldn't help a rush of excitement at the thought of seeing Bella, even in the current crisis.
As expected, she was a breathtaking vision. He tried not to be distracted by the fitted black dress she wore with a demure strand of pearls. "Have you seen this?"
Her smile of greeting faded. "What?"
She took the offered newspaper and read the headline. "Oh my God." Her eyes were wide when she glanced up. "I guess someone saw us at the party?"
"It's someone with a little more inside knowledge, I'm afraid." He took the paper back and read aloud. "'Bella Soros, daughter of Lanark Award-winning physicist Bela Soros, has taken a secret identity and insinuated herself into a position at Hardcastle Enterprises in a quest for vengeance against the man she blames for stealing and destroying her father's legacy.'" He kept his voice calm.
Bella's hand was clapped to her mouth. Her unpainted fingernails turned pink from the pressure. "Who told them?" she breathed.
"Tarrant thinks you did."
"Never! Why on earth would I?" Her forehead crumpled into a frown.
"To galvanize public opinion in preparation for your lawsuit. The article is unflattering to Tarrant, so you come out looking like a hero. And it gets worse." He read on. "'Tarrant's newfound son and potential heir, Dominic Di Bari, has been seen getting up close and personal with the lovely Miss Soros.'" He avoided the picture of them in a sensual liplock, his hand buried in the folds of her gold dress. He glanced up in time to catch Bella's blush. "'Rumor has it that Di Bari discovered Soros's underhanded dealings and has risked scandal to pursue a little sensual blackmail.'"
His voice growled a bit on the last line, injecting an uncomfortable air of truthfulness.
Bella snatched the paper and scanned it. He couldn't keep his eyes off her black dress-conservative with its high neck and knee-length hem; devastatingly erotic in the way it molded to her stunning body.
"I had nothing to do with this."
"That's what I tried to tell Tarrant, but I think he needs to hear it from your lips."
Those rose-colored lips pressed together, her cupid's bow making two sharp points. He wanted to kiss them, and cursed himself for his total lack of perspective. Maybe he was foolish enough to believe anything that came out of that breathtakingly sensual mouth, regardless of whether it was true. "Do you promise me you had nothing to do with this?"
"I promise," she gasped. "I can't believe you think I would … " Her eyes flashed as she stared at him. "I could never do something like this."
Her raw indignation speared his gut and strengthened his already powerful feelings for her. "That's what I told Tarrant. Come. We'll go see him."
She froze. He could tell she'd rather jump off Niagara Falls than go up to the corporate offices right now. "What will he do?" Her voice shook.
"Nothing. You haven't done anything wrong. You've performed your job more than adequately, and when you tell him you don't plan to pursue any action against him, he'll have to forget the whole thing." He narrowed his eyes. "Since you no longer plan to sue."
"I just want to leave in peace."
"You're not going anywhere." She didn't get a chance to respond as he tugged her into the still-open elevator and hit the button for the corporate offices. He could almost hear her pulse pounding beneath her strand of pearls.
"Who do you think is behind this?" Her eyes searched his face.
"Someone who wants to stir up trouble. Which, knowing Tarrant Hardcastle, could be any one of a thousand people he's ticked off over the years."
The door opened. Bella hesitated and he half pushed her out into the foyer of the corporate offices, then grabbed her elbow to balance her when he realized she was wearing dangerously high heels. Why on earth did women dress like this?
She turned to frown at him and caught him admiring the bare, tanned skin of her toned calves. She raised an eyebrow. "Hello?"
"What?" he scowled back. "You dress to impress and now you're pissed when I am?"
The hint of a smile flickered across her mouth. Then it vanished. "I'm nervous."
"Don't be." He guided her past the receptionist and down the corridor.
Dominic strode with such confidence that Bella had to keep convincing herself this was a make-or-break situation. Tarrant Hardcastle could break her-literally-with a suit designed to bankrupt her whole family and possibly even put her behind bars.