Tarrant faltered. “The future.” The words drifted from his tongue. “I won’t be here to see that. Well, not much more of it. You will though, my boy.”
“Will I?” Dominic cocked his head. “If I stay it’ll be on my terms.” He took a step toward Tarrant. His bulkier frame cast a shadow over the older man’s. “I’m glad to know you, and I’m grateful that you’ve finally acknowledged me as your son, for my mom’s sake if nothing else, but as I’ve said before, I don’t owe you anything.”
His words were forceful, controlled, but Bella could see emotion churning beneath the surface of his skin. Laying down this challenge must be hard for him. He now cared deeply about both his father and the company. How would he feel if Tarrant told him to go?
Silence stretched out over several seconds. Tension in the air grew so thick that Bella began to have trouble breathing. She shifted from one heel to the other, trying to keep her balance on the thick carpet. She began to wonder if she’d pass out cold on the floor and wake up in a crumpled heap on the hot sidewalk outside.
Then Tarrant broke into a raucous laugh. “That damn article is right. I am so goddam desperate for you to be my heir that I can overlook anything, even being laughed at in the damn New York press for being a patsy.”
“So Bella stays.” Dominic’s gruff words were a statement but Bella held her breath as the implied question hung in the air. “She’s responsible for turning the academic studies you bought into real-world products that will make money for the company. She should continue to develop her father’s work, it’s good for all of us.”
Tarrant’s sharp gaze swiveled to Bella. She tried to hold herself steady.
“Why would you risk your reputation, your career, on a fool’s errand to get your father’s work back?”
She felt Dominic’s body stiffen, probably with an urge to challenge Tarrant’s insult, so she raised her hand to stop him.
She was glad to tell them all. “My father was the most brilliant person I’ve ever met—a true genius, with ideas so revolutionary most people couldn’t even understand them. But he was also the sweetest, kindest and most loving man. He never cared much about the real-world application of his theories; for him it was the ideas that were important. I wanted to reclaim his legacy for my mother’s sake—and for mine—so we’d see that his dreams lived on and all his hard work would amount to something, instead of being forgotten in a file cabinet.”
She gulped for breath once the stream of words ran out.
Tarrant crossed his arms over his chest. “Well. I don’t suppose I’ve ever done anything to be worthy of such filial devotion.” He shot a glance at Dominic. No emotion showed in his face. “Can’t say I’ve ever wanted any. Much easier caring for no one and having no one care for you.”
He turned his cool gaze back to Bella. She trembled slightly. His jagged features seemed devoid of all compassion.
This is it. He’s throwing me out. Dominic will have to choose between us.
Her heart pounded as she thought of everything he’d be losing. Not just the company, but the father he’d never had. He deserved better. He was born to run Hardcastle, and she wouldn’t let him be cheated of that because of mistakes she’d made.
“Don’t push Dominic out. Please! Especially if there’s so little time left. Every day is precious.” Her breath came in hard gasps.
Silence stung her ears and she felt every eye in the room on her. She didn’t dare look at Dominic.
She sucked in a breath. “I’ll leave right now. Do what you must.” Before she’d finished speaking she struck out for the door, her heels silent in the thick carpet. She knew it was the right thing to do. Time to take the burden of decision off everyone else and put it where it belonged, on herself.
Even if it meant losing Dominic.
A hand on her arm stopped her.
She jerked back and her eyes fixed on Dominic’s. Dark, intense, filled with emotion, his gaze arrested her. She couldn’t breathe. The hum of the lights hurt her ears. All she wanted was to fall into Dominic’s strong arms, but from his expression, the tension in his body, she had no idea if he wanted to kiss her or throw her out.
“I told you, you’re not going anywhere.” His voice was low, thick. “Not without me.” The raw emotion in his voice tugged at her heart.
“No one’s going anywhere. For crying out loud. Are you both trying to kill an old man?” Tarrant flipped open a humidor on the desk and whipped out a thick cigar. “I’m too old and sick for this kind of drama.”
He pointed his cigar at Samantha, apparently expecting a light.
She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes.
“I don’t care about the damn smoking laws.”
“What about your son’s lungs?” Samantha crossed her slim arms over her chic outfit. She was obviously a lot tougher than she looked.
Regret dripped through Bella that she’d turned Samantha’s attempt to help into a near crisis. “I’m sorry for everything I’ve done. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I just wanted to help my mom.”
Tarrant waved a dismissive hand at her babbled apology. “We know, dear.” His tone contained more than a hint of sarcasm.
He tossed his unlit cigar down on the desk. “You’re all better people than I am, which I suppose is a good thing for this world. Dominic has already shown himself to be more than any man could hope for in a son. I can see he’s wild about you, and since he’s sharp as a samurai sword, I have no doubt that you are a woman worthy of his affections.”
His words jangled together in Bella’s brain. Did Dominic feel that strongly about her? It didn’t seem possible. But the way his hand still held her arm—firm, supportive, his grip filled with tender passion—Tarrant just might be right.
She looked up at Dominic again. Strong emotion washed over his handsome face.
Tarrant cleared his throat loudly. His eyes were fixed on Dominic. “I’d like to see Dominic take over as president of Hardcastle Enterprises, effective this afternoon.”
Tarrant swiveled his gaze to Bella. “I’ll let Dominic deal with you. If he wants to make you head of research and set you to weaving cloaks of invisibility down there on fifteen, more power to both of you.”
Bella felt a swell of energy from Dominic, and his hand drifted down her arm and settled around her waist. “I accept.” His gruff voice almost tickled her ear. He stood so close. “But, I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse us for a moment.”
He grabbed Bella’s hand and tugged her toward the door with such force that she stumbled and he had to halt and steady her. He shoved his arm around her waist, as if to prevent any further mishaps.
The door slammed behind them and Dominic’s mouth slammed over hers.
“God, I love you.” His words were lost in the hollow of her mouth.
What? She gulped, a wave of emotion threatening to sweep her off her already teetering feet. His words echoed through her body, ringing inside every cell, as Dominic kissed her with searing force.
She pulled back from his kiss just long enough to rasp, “I love you too.” The words fell from her lips with such feeling that they almost sounded like a sob. His hands roamed up and down her body, sliding over the fabric of her dress, possessing her. The sensation sent sheer lust ripping through her. Before she could stop herself, her hands were in his thick hair, then under his shirt collar, inside his suit jacket, tugging at his shirt.
Dominic’s broad hands roved over her backside, her waist, her breasts, his low, unsteady breaths hot on her neck.
Then she realized they were still in the corridor outside Tarrant’s office.
“We need to, we need to...” She couldn’t seem to formulate any sensible words. Anything she said would delay the one thing they both wanted so desperately.
“Get married, I know. And soon as possible.” Dominic’s rough voice grazed her skin.
Bella couldn’t stop a loud, high laugh bursting from her. “I meant, find a room.”
“Yeah, that
too.” Dominic seemed to have lost his way between her breasts and her hips, his hands tugging her close as he kissed her cheeks and lips. “But I want to marry you, and now.”
His confidence and conviction awed her. And frightened her. And ticked her off a little. “What makes you think I want to marry you?”
He paused. His brows lowered and an expression of confusion filled his dark, rich eyes. “You don’t?”
I do.
“How can you trust me after everything that’s happened?”
“I trust you with my life. Every damn day of it, starting right now. Whenever I’ve asked you, you told me the truth, no matter how much trouble it got you into. You’re caring and passionate and smart and you’re the woman for me. I’m a good judge of these things, trust me.”
“Is this something they taught you in business school?”
“I never went to business school, it’s something I learned in life. And I think my dad has learned a few things too lately, whether he wanted to or not.”
“I’m not sure he’ll like having me as a daughter-in-law.”
“He won’t have any choice, so he’ll just have to get used to you.” He grinned. Then he frowned. “If you’ll say yes, that is.”
He still didn’t look very doubtful. And why would he? What woman in her right mind wouldn’t want to marry Dominic?
But she was the cautious, scientific type. “Would it be okay if we went on a date first?”
“So you can study me under your microscope and make sure I don’t crack under pressure?” His eyes shone with humor.
She grinned. “Exactly.”
“I think that can be arranged. But first let’s go find a copy room.” His eyes glittered. “With a lock on the door.”
THE END
The Billionaires’ Secrets Series:
Book 1: Volatile Chemistry (Dominic and Bella)
Book 2: Grapes of Wrath (Amado and Susannah)
Book 3: A Taste of Heaven (Louis and Samantha)
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Read on for an excerpt from the second book in the Billionaires’ Secrets series, Grapes of Wrath:
Fetching home a long-lost heir is not in Susannah Clarke’s job description, but she’ll do what it takes to get the job done—even bargain with a steamy night of passion. When Argentine wine-grower Amado Alvarez discovers the truth about his parentage, his world is shattered. He’s furious at the bewitching woman who brought such terrible news and decides to exact revenge of a very sensual kind—until he starts to realize he can’t imagine life without her.
Grapes of Wrath 1
How do you make a complete stranger hand over his DNA ?
Susannah Clarke’s rental car was almost totally out of gas. She’d known the Tierra de Oro estancia was well outside Mendoza, Argentina, and had planned accordingly. But the car and its fuel tank were tiny, and everything else here was on a much grander scale than she’d imagined.
Including her own trepidation.
To her right, the sun glittered amongst the high, snow- dusted peaks of the Andes. Around her lay the fertile plain that supported some of the finest vineyards in the world.
As she turned off the highway, the needle on the fuel meter hovered below zero. Come on, just a little farther. She didn’t want to run out of gas and have to walk the rest of the way to the house with her news. “Hey, I think you’re my boss’s illegitimate son—got a gallon of gas to spare?”
She swallowed hard as a building came into view.
Deep breath.
She eased off the accelerator, anxious to stretch the last few drops of gas as far as they’d go. Rows of cypress trees now lined the drive, shading it from the bright sun. An elegant painted sign pointed to the right, where she could see a large brick structure against the backdrop of mountains. The Tierra de Oro Bodega, or winery.
She pressed on toward the house. For once she wasn’t coming to talk to the chief viticulturist about which kinds of grapes thrived in the local soils or how many cases Hardcastle Enterprises wanted for its flagship restaurant.
The avenue of cypress widened into a lush garden, surrounding a lovely old house with a red-tiled roof and wide, arched windows.
This is it.
She pulled the stick-shift car to a jerky stop in front of the paneled wood doorway. She opened the car door and stepped out, her heart thudding.
Then she heard the barking. Loud, guttural and getting closer with every second. Two huge white dogs bounded around the side of the house and careened toward her across the gravel.
Holy—
Susannah staggered back and struggled with the car door handle, her brain crowded with visions of being eaten alive on Amado Alvarez’s doorstep.
It wouldn’t open.
The worn door handle had apparently done enough work today.
“Help!” she finally cried, in Spanish, as the first giant animal leaped toward her, jaws wide.
It jumped on her, knocking her against the car as the other dog barked and growled from a few feet away. Pain shot through her elbow when it collided with the half-open window. “Help!”
The front door flew open and she heard a gruff male command. The dogs immediately backed away and sat, panting innocently. Susannah struggled to catch her breath, still flattened against the side of her tiny rental car.
A tall man came down the steps in a loping stride. “I apologize for my dogs’ overenthusiastic greeting.”
He spoke in Spanish. And why wouldn’t he? He had no idea who she was.
His dark brown hair dipped seductively to almond-shaped eyes. The soft drape of his khakis and cream-colored shirt revealed broad shoulders, slim hips and long, powerful legs.
He was handsome.
And about thirty. The age of Tarrant Hardcastle’s long-lost son.
Her heart, already pumping hard from the near-death encounter, beat faster.
She shoved out her hand. “At least you don’t have to worry about burglars.”
He smiled. A slightly lopsided grin. White teeth against suntanned skin.
Susannah found her heart fluttering for reasons that had nothing to do with fear as he grasped her palm in a warm handshake. Did she imagine it, or did he give her hand a suggestive squeeze? Mischief shimmered in those wicked brown eyes.
Susannah was good at reading people and she could tell this man was used to getting his way.
His features were aristocratic, elegant. His long, slightly aquiline nose tapered to tear-shaped nostrils. Everything about him telegraphed ease and comfort in his surroundings.
He snapped his fingers and the two giant hounds scampered to his feet and crouched there, tongues hanging, as they gazed adoringly up at him. “Apologize to the lady.” He raised his hand in a gesture, and the dogs immediately turned. Then he snapped his fingers and they sprawled at her feet.
“I’m impressed.”
“Castor and Polux are usually well-behaved. I don’t know why they got so worked up.” He paused, and let his arrogant gaze drift over the front of her blue jacket to the loose flowered cotton of her skirt. “Then again, maybe I do.” His eyes glittered with suggestion. “How may I help you?”
“Are you Amado Alvarez?”
“At your service.” He lowered his head in a mock bow. “Your name?”
“Susannah Clarke.” Susannah took a deep breath. “I…I have a private matter to discuss with you.”
His elegant brow crinkled slightly. “How intriguing. Do come in.” He indicated the wide stone steps in front of the open door.
He stood to one side as she climbed past him, her elbow still smarting from where his dog had smashed her against the car.
Of course, the news she brought might leave Amado Alvarez with far more than a bruised elbow.
He ushered her into a large living room with comfortable sofas arranged around a grand fireplace. The patter of massive dog feet followed them over the tiled floors.
“A private matter, you
say?” He indicated for her to sit on one of the leather sofas. He sat next to her, but with enough distance to be polite. The dogs sprawled on a patterned rug in front of the unlit fireplace.
“Yes.” She knitted her fingers together. “Have you ever heard of Tarrant Hardcastle?”
Blood pounded in Susannah’s brain as he contemplated the question.
He shrugged. “No, should I have?”
“Well—” She twisted her fingers. If she blew this she could lose her job. “I’m not really sure how to say this, but he believes he’s your father and he’d like very much to meet with you.”
Amado’s eyes narrowed and his mouth widened into that crooked smile. “Is this some kind of joke? Who put you up to this? Tomas?”
She inhaled. “I’m afraid it’s not a joke. Tarrant believes he had an affair with your mother in Manhattan thirty years ago, and that you are the result of that union.”
Amado’s face creased with amusement. “Manhattan? In New York?”
“Yes. She was there studying art. At least, that’s how Tarrant remembers it.”
Amado looked at her as if she’d just sprouted a third eye. “My mother...was studying art in New York City?” He let out a guffaw.
He turned his head. “Mama!” His voice rang across the room. Susannah cringed as he called for his mother. A woman probably now in her fifties and living a respectable life, about to be confronted with a single indiscretion from many years ago that could upturn all of their lives.
She shrank into the sofa.
“What is it, sweetheart?” called a soft voice. Susannah rose to her feet as his mother entered the room. A short, rotund woman with fluffy gray hair, thick-framed glasses and navy orthopedic shoes.
Susannah blinked. Mrs. Alvarez was a stark contrast to Tarrant’s ex-beauty-queen, third wife.
Amado rose and kissed her. “Mama, you’re going to love this. First, let me introduce you. Susannah Clarke, this is my mother, Clara Alvarez.”
“Delighted to meet you.” Clara shook Susannah’s hand gently. Her skin was soft, like her voice. Her pale blue eyes sparkled with warmth. “Have you traveled far?”
Volatile Chemistry (Billionaires' Secrets Book 1) Page 16
