“No. You cannot.” She exhaled a frustrated breath. “Leave me alone, Baron, or this time I’ll be the one giving sympathy producing interviews to the press.”

He made a harsh sound. “Tara, you can’t trust Angelo Gordon.”

So, he’d read the tabloid stories? That was one more thing Ray-the-rat had to answer for. “My private life is none of your business.”

“I used to be your private life.”

What colossal nerve. “That was a long time ago and it is certainly not true any longer. Goodbye, Baron.”

She hung up.

The phone rang five minutes later and when the number only came up as out of area on her caller ID, she ignored it.

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHECKING her voice mail after her shower, Tara ground her teeth in vexation when she realized the second call had been from Angelo. But his message gave her her first smile in over thirty-six hours.

He was headed back to Portland and would arrive later that evening. He said nothing about the gossip stories, but he did apologize for not calling when he’d been unable to fly out the day before.

She listened to the message three times just to hear his voice and then erased it with a jab of a button, irritated with her lame, sappy behavior.

The phone rang again, this time a local newspaper name showed up on the caller ID and she let it go to voice mail again. The rest of the day, the phone rang off the hook and the two times she made the mistake of answering it, a reporter was on the other end of the line.

She was in the middle of preparing a tray of snacks for Angelo’s arrival and muttering to herself about Ray-the-rat and Baron when something struck her.

What made her angriest about Baron’s phone call earlier had nothing to do with the past. No pain from his betrayal lingered to catch at her heart. No longing for what might have been tugged at her thoughts, but she was furious he had implied Angelo was untrustworthy.

And she was feeling downright feral that her attempt to avoid another phone call from Baron had made her miss one from Angelo.

Baron couldn’t begin to understand, because he didn’t have a protective bone in his body, but she was sure Angelo wouldn’t hurt her. Nor would he allow her to be hurt by others. He was going to be enraged when he found out she’d been fired and she had no doubt Ray-the-rat was going to heartily regret making her and Angelo the crux of his career advancement…such as it was.

Another sudden, not so welcome thought scorched through her consciousness.

She trusted him.

She really trusted a tycoon.

That’s why she’d given him the benefit of the doubt about her employment termination. That was why she was waiting for him to show up with a heart full of hope instead of a loaded shotgun. Against all odds, something deep inside of her had bonded with him and told her she could believe in him.

That was scarier than having Baron trying to come back into her life. Her ex-lover posed no threat to her emotional health, but Angelo was something else altogether. She wasn’t at all sure how much damage to her current happiness letting him go would do, but she had a feeling it wouldn’t be negligible.

She did not want to fall in love again. She did not ever want to be that vulnerable.

Before she started hyperventilating, she reminded herself that trust was not love. They weren’t mutually exclusive emotions of course, but neither were they absolutely mutually inclusive.

Were they?

How could she have let herself come to this pass? She’d only spent a few days with him. She knew powerful men like him weren’t innately trustworthy. She hadn’t needed Baron to tell her that, but when he’d said it, she’d been offended. Was still offended.

Her heart insisted that Angelo was different. Unlike with Baron, she didn’t have to convince herself…she had to fight belief. Maybe it was the things Angelo had told her about his past. He hadn’t condemned his mom, but he was determined to make the man responsible for her pain pay.

That made him protective, even if it was of a memory.

She should never have researched him. All that stuff about what a ruthless but really fair guy he was had turned her head, or her heart. He’d told her he didn’t give up, that he made things work and she had no option but to believe him.

And seriously, a man who spent ten years preparing for revenge didn’t change his mind on a whim. If he wanted to marry her, he planned to make it stick.

Was she trying to convince herself to accept his proposal? Or facing the inevitable?

She trusted him, she wanted him and in a way she did not understand, but could not deny, she needed him.

The decision she’d been wrestling with all week was really no decision at all. In a way, Baron’s call had put it into perspective. Angelo was nothing like the older man and Tara was sure that if she refused his offer, she would regret his leaving much more than she’d ever regretted her failed relationship with Baron.

The buzzer sounded, scattering her thoughts and letting her know she had a visitor. She rushed into the entry hall to press the black button which would unlock the front door. Sure it was Angelo, she opened her door and waited just inside so she could see down the hall.

Within seconds his tall, muscular body came into view. His eyes looked tired and his skin was pale, but he strode toward her, his body vibrating with purpose.

She didn’t smile, didn’t speak. She just waited.

He reached her and without a word, yanked her into his arms and kissed her with claim staking intensity. She locked her fingers behind his neck and kissed him back.

When they finally came up for air, she was in his arms and he was leaning on the inside of the closed door to her apartment. She wasn’t going to waste time wondering how they’d gotten there. He made things happen.

This was just one of those things.

Nuzzling her neck, he squeezed her. “I missed you, stellina.”

“I missed you, too, Angelo.”

He lifted his head, his gimlet stare enough to make her heart contract in her chest. “Don’t ever buzz your apartment open without using the intercom to see who it is again.”

She laughed, relieved that was all it was. “All right.”

He kissed her again. Hard and fast. “I mean it.”

“I know.”

He carried her into the living room and sat down on the sofa with her in his lap. His thighs weren’t the only hard things under her bottom. Heat flashed through her, sensitizing nerve endings already on edge.

“You really did miss me,” she teased.

He didn’t smile in response. “I have severely reprimanded my second in command.”

“He’s the one who ordered I be fired?”

“Yes.”

“Then you know about the articles as well.”

“I saw something at the newsstand in the airport.”

She cringed at the reminder how widespread was her humiliation. “Did you flip?”

“That’s one word for it, but my reaction to the initial article was nothing compared to my fury when I was told you’d been fired as a crisis containment measure. If you were a different woman, that kind of crisis containment could have blown up in our collective faces.”

She knew he’d been too smart to take such a step.

“My managers will not act so impetuously on my behalf again.”

She shivered at the chill in his voice.

“Why did they?”

His brows rose. “What do you mean?”

“It just seems to me that they had to have some reason for believing you would approve their decision.”

“Ignorance.”

“Well, yes, but…”

“They were ignorant because they’ve never been in this situation before.”

She waited in silence for him to continue explaining and was surprised when he did after only a brief pause.

“They know only that I hate personal publicity of any kind. I’ve never dated a woman employed by one of my companies and I don’t usually make it on the front pages of the weekly tabloids. My last magazine cover was Newsweek.”

“I read it. That article had a lot more truth to it.”

“No doubt. I’m going to kill Ray.” From the way Angelo growled the words, she could almost feel badly for the rat.

“So you think it’s him, too?”

“Who else could it be?”

“I can’t think of anyone, but I’m sure Danette didn’t know about it.” Fairly sure anyway.

Once again she was operating on the principle of giving her friend the benefit of the doubt. It had worked with Angelo.

Looking unconvinced by her assurance, he asked, “Have you spoken to her?”

“No. She wasn’t at her desk when security walked me out and she hasn’t returned my call.”

“My second in command will be attending the remedial management training course on human resource development.”

She felt a twinge of sympathy for the general manager. “That will be quite the come-down.”

“Particularly if you teach it.”

She laughed. “I no longer work for Primo Tech.”

“This is true.” He buried his hand in her hair and brushed his fingers through it to the ends. “That’s so damn silky. I’m hoping you’ll take a position closer to me.”

“What?” First he was talking about her hair and then a job offer? “Are you offering me a position in your main office?”

“In my life.”

“You mean you don’t want me working for you?”

“Of course I want you working for me. Do you think I want a brain like yours going to a competitor?”

She warmed at the compliment, but still wasn’t sure what he was driving at. “Um…I’m getting confused here.”

“I’m hoping you’ll take your next job…working for me…as Tara Gordon rather than Tara Peters.”

She swallowed and then plunged. “Yes.”

He looked like he’d been turned to stone. “You will marry me?”

“As soon as you like.”

“You are serious.”

“Very.”

“No big production?” he asked, sounding very satisfied.

“No, but I’d like my mom and Darren there, and Danette.”

“Done.” He kissed her again and this time they were both disheveled and missing some clothes when they came up for air.

She still had her bra on, but her shirt was gone and his was completely unbuttoned. His tie hung over the back of the couch and his suit jacket was in a crumpled pile on the floor.

He was looking at her like a starving man facing a five-course meal. “I want you.”

She rested against the hard warmth of his chest. “I want you, too.”

“But we’re waiting.”

“Until we’re married?” she asked, an unnamed emotion making her heart squeeze.

“Yes.”

It felt right and she smiled, glad that she’d agreed to marry quickly. She liked the idea he wanted to wait, but she didn’t think either of their self-control could stand up to a long engagement. “We’re going to have one heck of a wedding night.”

“Count on it.”

The buzzer for the front door sounded again.

“Are you expecting anyone else?”

“No.” But she got up.

“This time use the intercom.”

She pressed the gray button, thinking she should have done it before. Never mind it being some deranged criminal, what if Angelo had been a reporter? “Who is it?”

“Tara?”

“Yes.”

“It’s Danette. Can I come up?”

“Of course, hon.” She buzzed the entry lock and then dove for her shirt.

“Button up, Angelo. Danette’s on her way up.”

“Worried if she sees my manly chest she’ll swoon?”

“Maybe.” She winked. “But mostly I don’t want to advertise what we’ve been doing for the last half hour.”

“You’re a conservative little soul, all things considered.”

She shrugged, but bit her lip. “Does that bother you?”

“No. I was raised by a traditional Sicilian woman, you’ve got to remember. Before my father died, she defined the term conservative.”

“I wish I could have met her.”

His eyes clouded over. “Me, too.”

There was a knock on the door and Angelo answered it because he was closer.

Danette stared at him as if she was seeing a ghost. “Mr. Gordon?”

“Angelo. I’ve eaten meat from your barbecue. That puts us on a first name basis.”

At that, Danette’s eyes filled with tears and her fist flew to her mouth, but the sound of a sob escaped.

Tara rushed across the room and threw her arms around her friend. “It’s okay, hon. Truly. We know you didn’t have anything to do with it.”

She wasn’t totally sure about what Angelo believed, but he wasn’t acting all cold and accusatory, for which she was grateful.

“But Ray did.” And then the sobs escalated.

Tara held Danette until she calmed down and stepped away, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief Angelo handed her.

She took a deep breath and then let it out, her eyes wounded pools in her tear ravaged face. “He doesn’t understand why I’m so angry.”

“The idiot. I’m sorry.”

“Me, too. I broke up with him.” Her lip quivered, but she maintained control. “I can’t believe I let myself love that slimeball.”

“Aw, hon…”

Her gaze darted to Angelo. “I quit my job, too. Told Primo Tech what they could do with their management training program after I found out you’d been fired.”

“I’ll get you reinstated,” Angelo said without hesitation.

Danette shook her head. “Thank you, but I need to get away. I’ve lived here all my life and been protected for most of it.” She bit her lip and swallowed. “I want adventure. I thought Ray was it, but I was wrong.”

Tara’s heart broke for her friend.

“Maybe I could help find you something.” Angelo said.

A glimmer of hope sparked in Danette’s eyes. “Seriously? You mean it?”

“Yes.”

“Aren’t you mad at me?”

“You are not responsible for the malicious behavior of your former boyfriend.”

“I’ll never make another scrapbook page again.”

Tara gave her a hug around her shoulders. “Let’s not get hasty. One scheming photographer does not the death of a hobby make.”

Danette gave her a weak smile.

They talked her into staying for dinner. When Angelo discovered she spoke both Spanish and Italian, he said it would be a piece of cake to get her a job abroad if she’d like.

Danette left with a smile on her face, despite the sadness in her eyes.

Tara frowned at the closed door Danette had just walked through. “I’d like to punch Ray right in the nose.”

“I’ve done better than that. I’ve instigated proceedings against him for getting the photo under false pretenses.”

“I doubt the charges will stick.”

“Maybe not, but I’m doing my best to make sure they do and the experience of going to court and having to hire a lawyer to defend his actions definitely will.”

“True.”

“So, about this wedding.”

“Fly to Reno, get married and check into a swank suite for our wedding night?” she asked, more convinced than ever that waiting would be taxing her control on her feminine impulses.

He grinned, his expression more carefree than she’d ever seen it. “We are going to have a very good marriage, stellina. You fit me like a glove.”

Angelo looked around the exclusive wedding chapel with satisfaction. A big wedding was out of the question. Not only would it take too long to prepare, but he didn’t want the publicity that would accompany it to alert Baron Randall of Angelo’s plans to marry Tara.

When he’d seen the innuendo laden articles with pictures of him and Tara kissing, his first thought had been the money he’d paid to bribe Randall’s private detective not to mention his involvement with Tara had been wasted.

The whole flight back to Portland, he’d been worried he would only land to discover Randall had gotten to her first.

Randall hadn’t gotten to her and Angelo was determined he wouldn’t get the chance.

Hence the hasty wedding, but it didn’t have to be a shabby, hole-in-the-wall affair. And it wasn’t.

He’d offered his second in command a way to get back into his good graces…arrange a wedding fit for a princess in less than twenty-four hours. The wedding chapel was actually outside Reno, in the mountains toward the more affluent and less touristy Lake Tahoe.

The cathedral style chapel was decorated inside with dozen and dozens of white and yellow roses and purple irises. Lit with candlelight and recessed sconces that made the stained glass behind the altar glow, it was the perfect setting for his soon to be wife to walk down the aisle.

Tara’s mother and Danette were seated in front on one of the polished wooden pews. Angelo’s private investigator and long-time friend, Hawk, sat across the aisle from them.

The music of a pipe organ swelled, filling the space with the strains of the wedding march.

Angelo’s gaze snapped to the back of the church where the open double doors framed Tara, her head held high, her dark brown eyes pools of feminine mystery and her hand curled around her stepdad’s arm.

They started forward and a wave of something indefinable washed over Angelo.

Possessive desire was certainly part of it. Soon, this woman would be his to have, to hold and to make love to…over and over again.

Tara wasn’t wearing a traditional wedding gown, but the designer original filmy white concoction she had on clung to every single one of her curves. It dipped in the front to reveal the top swells of her creamy, smooth breasts. Sexy and feminine, the dress was the stuff masculine fantasies were made of.

Those fantasies vied for his attention with the minister as he went through the wedding service. Angelo managed to give all the right answers, however, and smiled in victory when Tara did the same thing.

Afterward, he took everyone out for a celebratory dinner at the five-star restaurant his assistant had made reservations at. All he really wanted to do was take Tara up to their suite and make her his completely.

The glow on her face made it worth it however. Her mom and Darren were important to her, which was something he needed to remember. It had been a long time since he’d had close family.

After his parents’ deaths, he’d pushed away his Sicilian family, only going home to visit infrequently.

“You know, when I gave you that information on Randall, I never would have guessed this is where it would lead you to,” Hawk said from beside Angelo.

Tara’s mother and her husband were dancing while Danette and Tara had gone to the ladies’ room.

Angelo turned, lifting a sardonic brow. “What better way to ensure he doesn’t get his hands on her again?”

His friend’s eyes narrowed. “I know you can be a cold and ruthless bastard, Angelo, but tell me that’s not the only reason you married her.”

“Do you think she would be better off having that egomaniac people user back in her life?”

“Tara doesn’t strike me as a woman stupid enough to make the same mistakes twice.”

“He can be damn convincing.”

“Not enough to get her to agree to be his mistress.”

“No, Tara would never agree to that kind of arrangement.” But once Randall was divorced, the rules would change.

He’d just taken steps to make sure the other man could never again enter the game.

“Do you feel anything for her besides the need to get the better of your enemy?” Hawk asked, sounding like a man with a stronger conscience than Angelo had ever suspected.

“I want her.”

“Is that all?”

“None of your damn business.”

“I’m your friend, Angelo.”

“But you aren’t my confessor.”

Hawk just stared at him, the look disconcerting, even for Angelo.

“I want her. I respect her. I like her. It’s enough.”

“I wonder.”

“I’m not going to hurt her.”

“Have you taken any time to consider how she’s going to react once she learns about Randall?”

“With any luck, she’ll never have to know about Randall. I’m sure as hell not going to tell her.”

“I’ve never been much of a believer in luck.”

Angelo wasn’t, either.

CHAPTER NINE

TARA was as nervous as a virgin when Angelo carried her into their honeymoon suite, his midnight gaze burning hotter than any blue flame. The sexual energy emanating off him had been growing all night until she fairly sizzled from the impact.

Despite the elegance of their surroundings, she felt like she was about to be devoured by a mountain lion. A very hungry, powerful lion with sharp teeth and claws that could tear through the barriers she had erected around her emotions.

That shouldn’t frighten her.

She’d married him, after all.

But it did.

He stopped on the other side of the threshold, kicked the door shut and then looked down at her, predatory intent and primitive satisfaction exuding from his every pore. “You are mine now, Mrs. Gordon.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.” Then he kissed her.

It was hot; it was carnal; it was a statement of intent to possess.

His hot mouth molded hers, letting her taste the essence of this man she’d married. Could determination have a flavor? Strength? Desire? Intelligence? Masculine dominance? She could taste all of that and the spiciness of his need in his kiss. They’d never shared a kiss like this and yet her soul responded to it on a level of recognition she could not begin to dismiss.

Swirling sensation spiraled to the core of her and then outward in radiating waves of delight until it was all she could do not to cry out.

He carried her to the bed and stood her on her feet at the end of it and then gave her a once-over that left her trembling. “You are incredibly beautiful, my wife.”

“Thank you. You clean up nice in a tux yourself.”

His smile slashed through her with heat, leaving her stomach quivering in a way she’d only ever experienced with him.

He reached around her, enveloping her in his warmth and teasing her with his nearness. He started tugging her zipper down. His fingertips played along her spine as each new inch of flesh was revealed.

“Angelo?” Was that hesitant, high-pitched voice hers?

“Yes?”

“Other than the other night, it’s been two years and then we didn’t…you know.”

“Make love?”

“Right.”

“You are telling me it has been a long time for you.”

“Yes.”

“I’m glad.”

“Um…that’s nice, but I wanted…”

How did she tell her new husband—a man who had married her for the sole purpose of bedding her, or close to it anyway—that she needed him to go slowly? It was so obvious that was not what he wanted to hear at that very moment.

“What did you want, cara, this?” He leaned down and kissed her shoulder, nibbling at the sensitive area above her collarbone, before lifting his head. “Or this?” His mouth closed over hers again while his hands slipped down inside her dress and cupped her backside with sensual mastery.

He caressed and squeezed her, his fingers dipping dangerously close to the warm, humid spot between her thighs. Memories surged through her from their time at the beach. Jolts of pleasure zinged through her sweetest spot and her entire woman’s flesh. He teased her with his touch, making her want more, making her arch her spine, pushing her bottom back, trying to increase the depth of his penetration between her thighs.

But his hand moved with her, stopping her from achieving the intimate caressing she craved. She moaned against his lips and tried a new tactic, widening her stance so she was open completely to him. He rewarded her with a risqué massage on the highly sensitive flesh of her inner thighs and outer perimeter of her delta.

She groaned at the throbbing pleasure that grew with every tiny caress.

Maybe slow wasn’t what she wanted after all. She broke her mouth away, letting her head fall back in abandon. “Angelo, please…touch me.”

“I am touching you.” His voice was laced with masculine amusement and dark gratification.

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