That discussion took them all the way to dessert when Angelo said, “Tell me about Baron Randall.”
Her muscles tensed. “I already did.”
“Only some of it.”
“Do you spend your other dates quizzing women on past liaisons?”
“Only when those liaisons are still impacting the present.”
“He doesn’t. I’m here aren’t I?”
“He does. You’re here against your better judgment. Because of your experience with him, you wanted to write me off.”
“I’ve been writing all men off for two years. It’s not personal.”
“It became personal the moment I got lumped in with the rest.” And in his arrogant view of the world, that was unacceptable.
She almost smiled.
“Your refusal to date makes it sound like you’re not over him.” He didn’t sound pleased at that idea.
“I am, trust me.”
She couldn’t read his expression, but she wasn’t sure he believed her.
“I told you I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“But if you are lying to yourself, how will you help it?”
“I’m not that much of a fool.”
“I hope that is true.”
She wasn’t offended by his words. In fact, their urgency touched her. “Trust me. It is.”
“How did you meet?”
“At a show.” Perhaps talking about it would set Angelo’s mind at rest. Goodness knew she felt more comfortable sharing her secrets with him than anyone else, though she still wasn’t sure why. “He asked for an introduction from my agent and then swept my then naïve self right off my feet.”
“He’s quite a bit older than you.”
“Sixteen years and that was a big part of his success where other men had failed. Not only did he know just what buttons to push to get a response from me because of his experience, but I made the mistake of assuming age meant maturity. That he knew what he wanted.”
“Didn’t he?”
“Yes, I guess he did…but in the end, it wasn’t me.”
“So you broke up.”
“Yes.”
“He married an heiress within a month of the breakup.”
“Don’t ask me how he accomplished that. She had to have heard the stories. We were splashed across every newspaper. Why would she want a man who had to have been having an affair when they met?”
“He was living with someone else when he met you.”
“How did you know that?” She hadn’t even learned that juicy tidbit until she read one of the nasty articles done on their breakup.
He shrugged. “I read.”
“Well, I didn’t know about her until later.”
“I see.”
“I doubt it.”
“You sound bitter.”
“The tabloids slayed me…portrayed me as the skirt on the side while Baron had been courting his one true love. They dubbed me Tempting Tara when I was the one who’d been tempted and then tossed aside.”
“Anyone who knows Baron Randall would know that he’s absolutely incapable of having one true love.”
“You know him?”
“We’ve met.” The cold dismissal in his voice left no doubt what Angelo thought of the other man.
“So, you don’t think I’m some sort of floozy, ripe for the picking by another charismatic tycoon?”
“Floozy?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes, I do and no, I don’t.”
“But—”
“I want you. That’s not a crime.”
“No.”
“So you think I’m charismatic?”
“On occasion, yes.”
“That’s good to know.”
“I’m sure you think so.”
“If it means I get the girl, I do.”
“The jury is still out on that one.”
“Then let’s see if I can’t rig it.”
“What?”
He was standing up and his hand was outstretched. “Come for a walk with me and let me turn some of this charisma on you.”
He was teasing, but it wasn’t a joke. The man was way too attractive for Tara’s own good. And as docile as any lamb, she still put her hand in his and let him lead her toward the main part of the rose garden—that had been closed off for their enjoyment alone. Its lush beauty in the fading light awed her.
“It’s incredible here,” she said after several minutes of silence.
“I think so, too. It’s one of my favorite places.”
“Did you visit when you lived in Seattle or discover it when you bought Primo Tech?”
“When I was a kid, we came every summer. It was like a pilgrimage.”
And he was sharing this special place and his precious memories with her. That meant something. It had to.