She couldn’t get enough of him and the feeling seemed mutual. There was a desperate edge to his hunger that she didn’t understand, but her body responded in kind. And when his thigh thrust between hers, she welcomed the pressure, curled her fingers into his waist and her moan poured into his mouth.
He lifted his head, ripped back the covers and swept her into his arms to lay her in the center of the mattress. Tara eagerly opened her arms. He settled in the cradle of her legs and paused for precious heart-pounding moments on the brink of joining them.
His gaze locked with hers and he slowly filled her until she was so full emotion nearly burst from her. She ached to blurt out her feelings, to release the floodgates on the words of love waiting on the tip of her tongue. But the last time she’d done that she’d driven him away. And she couldn’t risk that now.
Biting her tongue, she let her touch do the talking, silently whispering the words with each caress, every kiss, each tilt of her h*ps as she took him deeper into her core and into her soul. Into her heart.
She immersed herself in the heat of his skin, the power of his body and the taste of him. With each passing second she loved him more. And she started to believe in a future with Rand.
Each powerful thrust increased the tension inside her and every withdrawal left her gasping and aching for his return. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding him close and trying to get closer still.
And then release showered over her, tightening and releasing her muscles, tingling her toes and her flesh and stealing her breath. Rand stiffened in her arms and threw back his head. His face contorted with pleasure as he joined her.
Several pounding heartbeats later his eyes opened and found hers again. He lowered slowly, reverently, to kiss her brow, her nose, her mouth. Sliding to her side, he pulled her into his arms and held her tightly, in a way he hadn’t before. He nuzzled her temple, stroked her back. Every gentle caress made her feel cherished and loved in a way she never had. Her breathing eventually returned to normal and the moisture on her skin evaporated. She braced herself for his departure, but he didn’t pull away.
This was exactly how she wanted her relationship with Rand to be. The passion. The spontaneity. The connection. They’d had the first two last time around, and this time she wanted them all. This union had shown her what could be and it was so much more satisfying than the sex they’d had on the cruise.
Rand leaned back, separating their upper bodies only far enough to meet her gaze. She was certain her love shone in her eyes. There was no possible way to contain it and she didn’t even try. Happiness bubbled within her and she couldn’t stop a broad smile.
He cupped her cheek. “I know why you did it. And I don’t blame you.”
Confused, Tara blinked. “Did what?”
Revulsion flickered across Rand’s face so quickly she almost missed it. But she hadn’t. And that glimpse sent a frisson over her. Her smile faded and her muscles tensed.
“Slept with my father.”
Her heart stuttered and her heated body chilled. “I told you I never slept with Everett.”
“It’s okay, Tara. I forgive you.”
Tara scrambled out of his arms and out of the bed. “You can’t forgive me for something I didn’t do.”
He sat up. The sheet fell away to reveal every inch of him. “You don’t have to be ashamed. We can put it behind us and forget it ever happened. It’s okay. I understand.”
“No. You don’t. You don’t have a clue what happened that night.”
“You don’t have to lie.”
Her dream of a future with Rand gave a last gasp and died. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back as she realized her mistake. She hadn’t earned his trust now or then. Both times she’d rushed the relationship, counting on the physical bond leading his heart into an emotional commitment. She’d given him everything—her body and her heart—before he was ready to accept them.
He didn’t trust her. And he probably never would. Nothing she could say would convince him she hadn’t betrayed him.
Feeling exposed, she ducked into the bathroom, snatched her robe off the hook on the back of the door and shoved her arms into the sleeves. Her hands fumbled so badly it took three tries to tie the slippery satiny sash.
Rand stood by the bed when she returned. Naked. Powerful.
“Without trust, Rand, you have nothing. And that’s what we have. Nothing.” She’d gambled and she’d lost. A sob built in her chest. She fought to contain it, gulping it back, but it only rose again. She forced calming air through her nose and into her lungs, but it hurt. Everything hurt. It hurt to think, to stand here and look at the beautiful bronzed body of the man she’d wanted to share her life, her home and her heart with.
And it nearly crushed her to admit defeat. But this was a battle she couldn’t win.
“Get out. Out of my room. Out of my house.”
Rand stiffened and a muscle in his jaw ticked. “What about KCL and the terms of my father’s will?”
The question carved another chunk out of her heart. His first concern wasn’t about her or them, but about the business.
“That you’d even have to ask only proves my point. You don’t know me at all. I’m going to take a shower. When I get out, I want you to be gone.”
A gurgle of noise jolted Rand awake.Bleary-eyed, he tracked the sound to the coffeepot. Set on timer. By Tara.
Tara.
Why in the hell couldn’t she admit she’d made a mistake and been led astray by his father? Rand could live with mistakes, but not with lies. Dishonesty was a deal breaker.
Focusing on his anger and trying to ignore the strange ache in his chest and the hammers pounding in his head, he swung his legs off the leather sofa, planted his feet on the rug Tara had chosen and scrubbed his hands up his face and through his hair.
If what Nadia had said was true, he wasn’t to blame for their mother’s death. But he’d sure as hell cost them their inheritance by trying to force a confession out of Tara.
Could he live with that failure?
No.
But his sleep-deprived brain refused to cough up an acceptable alternative. Once he had a pot of coffee onboard to counteract the two hours of sleep he’d had, he was going to come up with a strategy to fix the situation.
If he could.
Not if, dammit. He would.
The only way to hold on to KCL, Kincaid Manor and his father’s hefty investment portfolio was to convince Tara to stay on as his PA. Not an easy feat since he’d called her a liar in bed.
Could he work with a liar?
For Nadia’s and Mitch’s sakes he’d find a way. But personally, he and Tara were finished. Unless she came clean.
She cared about him. He’d seen it in her eyes, felt it in her touch, tasted it on her lips. They made a good team. In the office and out of it. Why ruin a successful relationship when he was offering forgiveness? What did she have to gain by lying?
The questions nagged him because Tara’s actions weren’t logical. But he didn’t have the answers.
He stood and tried to stretch the kinks from his spine. Outside the wall of windows the sun rose over the bay and the Atlantic beyond Government Cut, the channel used by KCL ships. He could have gone to a hotel or to Kincaid Manor last night, but he’d needed time alone to think and something to occupy his mind. What better than the Rendezvous puzzle?
He’d stayed up most of the night, poring over the documents Tara had compiled and reading the notes she’d jotted in the margins. After comparing her findings with Nadia’s suggestions he’d spotted a clear trail that should eventually lead to who’d been embezzling from KCL.
He wanted to run his theory by Tara. Without her to share his hypothesis the discovery lacked the punch he usually felt before closing a deal. She’d become an important part of his team.
But Tara wasn’t here.
Needing a cold shower to clear his head and wash the grit from his eyes, he made his way to the en suite bathroom. Once again, Tara’s touch reminded him of what he’d lost because of her stubborn refusal to confess. She’d stocked his private bath with everything he could possibly need, from toothpaste to razors to clean towels and even an unopened bottle of his cologne. He wouldn’t even need to fetch his shaving kit from his car.
Extracting the clean suit, shirt and tie she’d insisted he keep in the closet Rand stripped, showered, shaved and dressed. He paused in front of the mirror, tightened the knot of his tie and squared his shoulders.
He’d made Tara an offer she couldn’t refuse once before. He’d do it again. And if her demands were unreasonable he’d sic the legal department on her. She’d signed an employment contract and he’d hold her to it.
He stepped out of the bathroom, picked up the mug that Tara had selected. A sound in the outer office stilled his hand before he could pour the brew. He glanced at his watch. Eight. No one should be here this early. And since Tara had kept the confidential documents locked in her desk, whoever was out there was breaching security.
Luckily, he’d had a duplicate key to her desk and the documents were in his office now. He stealthily crossed to the open door and jerked to a halt.
Tara. She bent over her desk, depositing her purse in the drawer.
A rush of something warm and soothing and energizing and…good that he couldn’t identify suffused him. He tamped down the unacceptable flood of emotions. She’d probably come to clean out her desk. The signed letter of recommendation he’d written would make leaving easier—until he involved the legal team.
An ugly thought snuck up on him. Had she asked for that letter because she planned to leave him in the lurch all along to get even for him dumping her years ago?
Vindictiveness didn’t seem to be Tara’s style.
“I didn’t expect to see you today.”
She startled and turned a pale face in his direction. Despite heavier than usual makeup, bruised circles shadowed the area beneath her eyes. “I gave you my word I’d see this year through. But we’re boss/employee from now on and that’s it.”
His thoughts exactly. So why did he experience a sudden and irritating jab of dissatisfaction? “You’re not quitting?”
“Not unless you fire me.”
He’d take the reprieve any way he could get it. It meant one less battle he had to win. “I need you to finish the year.”
The urge to sink his fingers into the soft golden curls she hadn’t bothered to scrape back this morning and kiss her in gratitude wasn’t welcome. He’d sworn off getting personal with her this time around. Her lips were off-limits.
“Your car was in the parking garage. How did you get here?”
“I took a taxi.” She sat in her chair and booted up her computer as if last night hadn’t happened. But her cool tone, her steel-beam-straight spine and her tense features implied anger. What did she have to be angry about? He was the one who’d been wronged.
Did she feel ashamed and guilty for turning to his father? He understood guilt. He’d lived with it for two decades. But he’d offered to wipe the slate clean. All she had to do was admit—