A sudden shower of cold droplets from behind her had her spinning around in the water. He was there, so darn tall, he could touch bottom and still keep most of his face above the water. He moved to her right, ending up not a foot from her in more shallow water. His expression was so relaxed and mischievous she couldn’t begin to hold on to her anger.

She didn’t think Angelo Gordon looked mischievous very often. Something spasmed in her heart that she was the one to bring out this side of him.

She sent a cascade of water directed at his head with the sweep of her hand. “You fiend.” But her heart wasn’t in it and the words came out sounding a lot more teasing than accusatory.

He grinned, not bothering to wipe the water from his face. “Feels good doesn’t it?”

“It would have felt better if I’d been able to get used to it before being dunked.”

He shook his head. “You would have wasted time playing in the shallows, torturing yourself with every small foray deeper into the pool.”

“The shallows aren’t always a waste of time.”

“They are when diving into the deep end is so rewarding.”

Neither of them was talking about swimming and from the seriousness of his expression now, they both knew it.

“I dove in once before and learned to rue my impetuousness.”

“Which doesn’t mean you should never go diving again.”

“I almost drowned the last time.”

He shook his head. “Not you. You got the breath knocked out of you, but you’re fighting fit again.”

He was right. Baron had hurt her, but her nature didn’t allow for wallowing in misery. She’d picked up and moved on, in every way but her willingness to risk her heart again.

Angelo tapped her nose. “You’re enjoying the water now, admit it.”

“Yes, I am.” What had felt frigidly cold against skin heated by the sun now felt refreshing.

“Diving into deep waters can be terrifying or rewarding depending on who you do your diving with and what kind of water he leads you into.”

Oh, gosh. She didn’t know if she could handle this. He’d been challenging her to see him as a unique individual since the moment they met, but this was more. This was a direct attack on the way she’d been handling relationships for two years.

Or rather avoiding them.

“What kind would I find myself in with you?” she couldn’t help asking.

Strong fingers curled around her waist under the water and she found herself being pulled against him. “The kind that will leave you sated with pleasure.”

“I’ve been sated before, but that didn’t make up for the hurt that came later.”

“No one can guarantee the future, bella mia, but the present is here for us to enjoy.”

There was something extremely intimate about being called an endearment in his mother’s native language. It made her feel special to him. Only that was probably wishful thinking. No doubt, he slipped into Italian with every woman he wanted to bed. It was sexy.

The cynical thoughts made her angry. Was she going to spend the rest of her life thinking the worst of every man who came into it? That made her a victim of her past, not victorious over it and Angelo had been right. She was a strong woman, too strong to let her past control her.

“Yes, the present is here for us to enjoy.”

When his lips covered hers this time, there was no hesitation, no gentle persuasion. It was all raw passion and masculine claim-staking, a sensual demand that she acknowledge his ability and right to give her pleasure.

And she gave it to him through a mouth that willingly molded to his.

Lips cool from the water soon heated against hers and his tongue pressed against her mouth, this time demanding entrance. With a groan of needs long denied, she opened to him. Unlike Baron’s carefully orchestrated seductions, Angelo took her mouth like a conquering marauder. Imprinting himself on every millimeter of the interior, he devastated her lips with a carnality that left her weak.

He lifted her more firmly against him, his reaction to their kiss pressing blatantly against her thighs.

Her breasts ached and swelled in the confines of her halter top, while her most secret flesh grew hot and wetter than the water surrounding them. She laid her hands against the sculpted muscles of his chest, her fingers delighting in the sensation of wet, slick skin covered by curling black hair. The kiss deepened into territory she’d never explored and she dug her nails into his pecs. He groaned against her lips.

A shower of water broke them apart, the sound of laughter around them grating on nerves sensitized by his lovemaking. And it had been lovemaking even if he hadn’t done any more than kiss her. Some of the other partygoers had swum through the low arched partition to the outside and were engaging in a game of tag.

Incapable of the coordination it took to tread water, Tara took advantage of her proximity to the edge to grab it with both hands. She hung there while her body struggled for breath and she tried to regain control over her emotions.

“Do you want me to apologize?” He spoke very close to her ear.

She shook her head, not looking at him. “I was with you all the way.”

“I didn’t mean to lose control, stellina. Public displays of affection are not my thing. The thought of embarrassing a lover leaves me cold.”

But then neither of them had expected the other guests in the pool to follow them inside.

“Stellina?” she asked, not ready to dwell on the implication of her own loss of control or his insinuation she was his lover.

His lips quirked. “Little star.”

Thinking of her five-foot-nine stature, she shook her head. “Hardly that.”

“It fits you.”

“Maybe to a giant like you, but the rest of the world sees me as rather tall.”

“How the rest of the world sees you is unimportant to me.”

“Your arrogance is showing again.”

“And we both know how you feel about that.”

She turned away from the heat in his gaze. “I think your Sicilian blood is showing.”

“Maybe a little, but don’t chalk that kiss up to my Latin temperament.”

“You want me to believe I’m wholly responsible for your passion? Isn’t that giving me an awful lot of potential power?”

“Why should I attempt to hide what must be obvious?”

This was getting stranger by the second. Baron had always been careful to minimize the effect she had on him, or at least her impression of it. He had played control games, wanting her to believe the greater need was on her side. He’d spouted platitudes about love while withholding the security of knowing she impacted him with the same potency he did her.

Either Angelo was way more sensitive than Baron Randall or he was more confident. The latter was far more likely.

She turned her head and gave him a sideways look. “You’re a unique man, Angelo Gordon.”

“I’m glad you can see that.” He waited a beat. “Finally.”

No, no lack of confidence there.

A feminine hand landed on Angelo’s shoulder. “You’re it.” The buxom brunette swam away at speed, her string bikini leaving nothing to the imagination.

To Tara’s shock, Angelo joined in the game of water tag with enthusiasm and showed that he played shark in the water every bit as well as he did the boardroom.

CHAPTER FOUR

WHEN they climbed out of the pool forty minutes later to eat, Tara was panting from the exertion. She grabbed her towel and started drying off. He did the same.

She leaned over to wring her long hair out. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for that kind of water play.”

“What, you thought I only knew how to swim laps in a pool?”

“I would have thought water polo would be more your style—highly competitive and a definitive winner at the end of the day.”

“Actually I was on a team through high school.”

She straightened, surprised by the admission. “Were you really?”

“Yes, but the traveling schedule interfered with my studies and I dropped it my freshman year in college.”

“I was right then.”

He acknowledged it with a slight inclination of his head and then draped his towel around the back of his neck. “But I can also play a mean game of tag.”

“Definitely.” He’d tagged her several times, and unlike some of the men, made no attempt to cop a feel when doing so.

He really was different…from anyone she’d ever known. Even her stepfather…because as wonderful as Angelo was proving himself to be, she could sense he had a ruthless streak that would leave even a man of Darren’s strength in the dust.

That ruthlessness was in evidence when they arrived back at her apartment later that evening. “Invite me inside.”

“I don’t think I should.” She wasn’t sure she was ready to take the next step in their relationship, or if she ever would be.

“Because of the kiss in the pool.”

“Because of how much I want to repeat the experience.”

He got out of the car and came around to her door. He opened it and leaned over her to unbuckle her seat belt. He stopped with his face inches from her own. “I won’t continue to pay the price for another man’s stupidity.”

“You’re so sure I don’t want this because of what I went through with Baron.”

“You do want this.” His mouth claimed hers for another kiss that left any spoken denial useless. “You’re afraid of me because of him.”

“I told you about my mom.”

“She had bad taste in men.”

“Apparently so do I.”

The chill in his eyes made her shiver. “I resent that remark. You want me.”

“I didn’t mean to imply you’re a bad risk.”

“But that’s what you believe.”

Frustrated anger welled up inside. “Are you saying you’re interested in commitment? Marriage? That you’ll stick around if a business opportunity comes up that makes our relationship impossible?”

“Most men marry someday and I don’t do business in the bedroom so our relationship will never be compromised by my commercial interests.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Invite me inside and we’ll explore the possibilities.”

“I don’t believe in casual sex.”

“There is nothing casual about where you fit into my life.” The gravity of his expression and tone convinced her he was telling the truth.

As impossible as it might seem, this man was serious about her. He wasn’t making any promises, but he wasn’t denying the possibility of a future either. A very skilled seduction campaign or was he showing the marks of integrity she could rely on?

“If I invite you up, it isn’t to share my bed.”

“I’ll settle for some coffee to start with.”

“All right.”

Angelo pulled back, shocking her by not cementing his victory with another kiss.

They had coffee and to her further surprise, he left around eleven without making a pass. Oh, he kissed her again and her lips were still tingling the next morning from it, but he hadn’t tried to get her into bed.

Which had left her confused and unable to sleep for dwelling on the implications of everything that had happened at and after the barbecue.

She was yawning the next day when she sat down at her desk and looked over to see Danette doing the same thing.

They both laughed.

“Tired?” Tara asked.

“Yes, you look like you are, too, but I bet it’s for different reasons.”

“You’re so bad.”

“Well, admit it…you probably went home and worked on a project until bedtime, while I worked on Ray.”

Tara laughed again, this time shaking her head. “You are incorrigible.”

“And you aren’t answering. Dare I hope you and the boss hit it off last night?”

“I’m sure Ray told you we kissed…I’d say it was pretty obvious we’re attracted to each other.”

“That doesn’t mean a whole lot when it’s you we’re talking about. You’ve got more fortitude than anyone I’ve ever known.”

“Are you saying I’m stubborn?”

“If the conservative shoe fits…”

Tara just shrugged, not wanting to get into a long discussion about her date with Angelo and knowing that was where this conversation was headed if she didn’t watch it.

She and Danette worked for a while before her friend piped up with, “Ray thinks you two are a great couple.”

“Ray needs to spend more time focusing on you than what’s going on around him. I was ready to throw his camera in the pool last night.”

Danette gave a gasp of mock horror and clutched at her heart. “He paid a thousand bucks for that baby. He would have cried like a lost orphan if you’d drowned it.”

“I guess it’s a good thing your hobbies feed each other.”

The phone rang before Danette could reply to Tara’s teasing.

She picked it up. “Tara Peters here.”

“Good morning, stellina.”

“Angelo.” She turned so her back was to Danette’s now avidly curious gaze.

“Did you sleep well?”

“If I answer that honestly, you’ll get a swelled head.” Where the flirtatious words came from, she didn’t know.

She’d never been particularly flirtatious and in the last two years, she’d been positively subdued in her behavior toward men, but he brought out a side to her she’d considered gone forever.

“I did not sleep.” The words were given in such a seductive voice, she about melted in her chair.

“Um…I’m sorry?”

A wicked chuckle made her insides shiver. “I’m not sure I believe you.”

“You doubt my sincerity?”

“Perhaps I wouldn’t if you answered my original question…did you sleep well?”

“No.”

“Ah. I like that. It was because of me.”

“Conceited man.”

“Am I?”

“Maybe not.” She had spent her night thinking about him.

“I need to be back in New York on Monday.”

“Oh.” Gosh, how original, but what was she supposed to say to that? Don’t go?

“My flight was scheduled to leave this afternoon.”

“It was?” As in he’d changed it?

“Yes.”

She waited in silence, not sure how he wanted her to respond. Hoping she’d interpreted his use of the past tense correctly.

“I had it postponed.”

Relief surged through her and she knew she was in deep trouble with this man. “You did?”

“I wanted to spend more time with you.”

“I like that,” she admitted.

“So, you’ll let me take you out tonight?”

“Yes.” She was making an irrevocable decision, but maybe it was time she started taking some risks.

If she didn’t, she might spend the rest of her life regretting yet another bad choice.

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“All right.”

“You have a date with the boss?” Danette demanded the minute Tara hung up the phone.

“Yes.”

Danette’s whistle echoed the shock reverberating through her own brain.

She was still reeling from her decision to actually go on a date with Angelo when she dressed for the evening.

Unlike their business dinner, she had no desire to dress in a way that downplayed her femininity tonight. Pulling a garment she hadn’t worn in a very long time from the back of her closet, she smiled. The quintessential little black dress, its spaghetti straps and skirt that hit her midthigh were elegant and sexy despite the simplicity of the dress’s design.

She brushed her hair into curling waves that reached the middle of her back, slipped on a pair of black stiletto sandals and stood to look in the mirror. Oh gosh, she’d forgotten the way it looked. The way she could look.

Had it always been this sensual? Half of her body was on display and the neckline showed a lot more cleavage than she remembered.

Even without makeup, the woman staring back at her appeared ready for a very hot date and she wasn’t sure that was the image she wanted to provide. Angelo didn’t need a whole lot of encouragement in this area. She was reaching for the zipper on the back of the dress when the doorbell rang.

He was early.

She looked longingly at the less revealing dresses hanging in her closet and started to jerk the zipper down when the doorbell rang again. She pulled the zipper back up and after giving her reflection one last despairing glance, she headed for the door.

When she opened it, she almost fell backward from the intense appreciation in his gaze. He looked like he wanted to eat her alive. Zings of forbidden pleasure arced through her at the thought.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to ignore the incredible reaction of her body to his presence. “Hi.”

“Hello.” He looked her up and down, his fiery gaze touching her with tactile force and leaving goosebumps in unimaginable places in its wake. “I like the way you look.”

“Thank you.”

He’d changed from a business suit to a v-necked, lightweight, black sweater that molded his muscular chest and charcoal gray slacks that emphasized the sheer masculine perfection of his form. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

His smile was more like a wicked invitation to sin. He put his hand out. “Ready to go?”

“I don’t have any makeup on yet.” Not that she normally wore it, but this was a date.

Not counting yesterday, which had not been official…it was her first one in two years.

“You don’t need it.”

She cocked her head to the side and studied him like he was an alien species. Sometimes, like now, it felt like he was. He certainly didn’t fit the mold of the other males she’d known. “Most men want their dates to be as gorgeous as possible.”

“You aren’t an ornament on my arm. You look beautiful to me and that is all that should matter.”

“Thank you.”

“Besides, makeup cannot improve on perfection.” It was a corny line, but he said it was such offhand seriousness; she couldn’t dismiss it as mere flattery.

“Wow…you know just the right thing to say.”

“The truth often comes out that way.”

“But not always. Sometimes the truth hurts.” She didn’t know why she said it, maybe as a reminder to herself.

His mouth set in a grim line. “You’re right, but I still prefer it over dishonesty.”

“Me, too.” A sudden urge made her blurt out. “Promise you’ll always tell me the truth.”

He stared at her as if testing her motive for the request, but then he nodded. “I won’t ever lie to you.”

“I’ll never lie to you either.” She said it quietly, fervently and he received it without comment.

Taking her arm, he tugged her out the door. “Now that we’ve established that, let’s go eat dinner.”

She laughed, a feeling of buoyant happiness bubbling through her. Unless he was the best actor on the planet, he’d meant his vow of honesty and she knew she had. No matter how odd the pact might seem to others, it gave her a sense of peace and a spark of hope for their future.

They were in Washington Park before she thought to ask where he was taking her for dinner.

“We’re almost there.”

To her knowledge, there was no restaurant near where they were, unless you counted the concession stands in the Rose Garden. Which seemed to be where they were headed, but she couldn’t imagine he was taking her there.

She saw that she was right about their destination however as he pulled the purring Mercedes into a parking spot near the gardens. He came around to open her door and the scent of roses washed over her senses. Midsummer, the air was laden with their sweet fragrance.

She closed her eyes and inhaled. “It’s what I think Heaven will smell like. So sweet and good.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

He helped her out of the car and then led her through an archway and down into the gardens. He kept going until they reached one of the private gardens enclosed by a tall green hedge. He stopped and she saw a linen covered table set with china and lit with candlelight in the center of the small garden bedecked with a thousand more flickering candles. Two antique dining chairs were on opposite sides of the smallish table and he seated her in one before taking the other.

A black clad waiter immediately poured them each a glass of champagne and then set starters of chilled crabmeat over a bed of lettuce.

She looked at Angelo, too stunned to pretend to be the least bit casual about his efforts. “This is amazing.”

“I wanted tonight to be special.”

“Any particular reason?”

“Because what is going on between us is special.”

His words seduced her utterly.

Dinner was an incredible experience. They talked about everything including Angelo’s plans for Primo Tech. He listened to her ideas on the subject and then brought up two more companies he was currently resuscitating.

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—”

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