“I do not like the fact your building has only one locked exterior door and I noticed it was left open. It is old…even locked, it could easily be broken into.”
“This isn’t New York, Angelo.”
“Bad things happen here, too.”
“I’m fine.”
“Yes, but I’ll be glad when we’re married and I can know you are always safe.”
She tried her best not to dwell on his use of the word when instead of if. “You mean if I married you, I could look forward to your hiring me a bodyguard?”
“That’s an idea worth considering. I have plenty to go around.”
She was still gasping with indignation and leftover shock when he said goodbye and hung up the phone.
Surprisingly she slept well and woke up feeling refreshed before the alarm went off.
The phone rang as she was getting out of the shower. It was Angelo telling her he wanted to take her to the beach and to dress appropriately. He also suggested she bring spare clothes in case they got wet or sandy. She couldn’t help wondering if he didn’t have plans to try to stay overnight, but she found herself packing the clothes and other necessities anyway.
Was she engineering her own downfall? His proposal had fried her brain cells.
Angelo parked his car in a spot near the entrance to the beach. Despite the warmth of the day and it being a Saturday, the spot was deserted. It was the reason he favored this beach over others and why he’d built a vacation home not far away. He liked the solitude.
He’d take Tara to his house later, when her initial reticence to being alone with him had diminished.
They got out of the car and stopped in unison to take stock of the view before them.
“It’s gorgeous,” Tara breathed, her voice filled with awe.
Blue water stretched out as far as the eye could see and waves crashed against huge, mountain like rocks jutting out of the water a couple hundred feet from the shore.
“Yes.” He looked down at her. “But the view isn’t the only beautiful thing around here.”
She averted her face, but he could see his compliment had pleased her. Once again, she’d gone for a very feminine look, wearing a cropped tank top and low rider shorts that showed lots of leg and the smooth skin of her stomach. Her sandals were strappy bits of nothing that accented the delicate lines of her feet.
She’d pulled her thick chestnut hair up into a youthful ponytail again, leaving the slender column of her neck exposed.
He leaned forward and placed a warm, lingering kiss against the sensitive spot behind one ear. He inhaled her fresh, sweet fragrance and nuzzled her. “You smell good.”
“Thanks.” She pulled away with a jerky, nervous movement. “We’d better get down to the beach.”
“We’re not on a timeline.” But he let her lead him away.
He could afford to wait to solidify his advantage. He had no doubts about how this day would ultimately end. And he was enjoying the wait.
They walked down a path from the parking lot to the beach. As soon as they hit the sand, Tara stopped and pulled her sandals off. She let them drop behind a log near the path entrance.
“Are you sure they’ll be safe there?”
“Do you see anyone around to steal them?”
There was only one other car in the small parking area and the only other occupants of the beach were nothing but small dots in the distance. “Point taken.”
“You should take off your shoes, too.”
He hadn’t walked barefoot on the beach since he was a kid, but there was something about an untamed beach and sunshine that brought out even a tycoon’s need to connect more closely to the elements. He slid his sports shoes and socks off and left them next to Tara’s sandals.
Then he put his hand out and she took it. They walked hand in hand to the shoreline, their silence surprisingly companionable considering the heavy subjects they had been discussing when they parted the night before.
The sand was warm against his feet, but the heat generated from their palms pressed together was greater. He got a primitive charge out of touching Tara in any way. Even the slightest connection sent electric impulses along his nerve endings and knowing that making her his took her away from his enemy gave him an equal charge.
He hadn’t been nearly as surprised by his proposal as she had been, but then he knew what lengths he was willing to go to get his revenge against the man who had destroyed the grief-stricken and vulnerable woman who had given Angelo his life.
Marriage would be a much more effective tool in removing the possibility of reconciliation between Randall and Tara than mere seduction.
“How seriously do you take the commitment of marriage?” Her words told him her thoughts had been going along the same course as his own.
“It’s the ultimate commitment between a man and a woman.”
“Do you consider divorce an easy out if things get difficult?”
“No.”
She stopped and looked up at him, her brown eyes questioning. “What do you really think about marriage?”
“I want a companion.”
“There’s more to life than bed.” Their thoughts had been traveling along very similar paths.
“I said a companion, not a bed warmer. I like talking business with you. It’s stimulating.”
She grinned, a naughty gleam in her dark eyes. “I’ve never had my opinions described that way before.”
“They’re that, too,” he said, easily sliding into the game. “You’re the first woman to turn me on while talking about the merits of on-site employee day care.”
She laughed, the sound warm and inviting. “What else?”
“Children. I want a family. I’ve built an empire I have no desire to leave it to some hospital who will build a wing with my name on it.” As he said the words, he realized how true they were.
Why not Tara as the mother to his children?
He certainly had no illusion about falling madly in love and living happily ever after with some dream woman. And he’d be destroying his enemy in the process.
She nodded, looking thoughtful. “So you see marriage as pretty much permanent.”
“Don’t you?”
“Yes. The worst part about growing up was the upheaval every time one of Mom’s boyfriends left. I won’t put my children through it. I want a marriage that is going to last.”
“Ditto.”
She smiled at that, but didn’t say anything else and they walked along the shoreline for several minutes, the call of seagulls and the surf the only sounds around them.
Then she stopped abruptly and leaned down to pick up a red bucket some child must have left behind. She looked at it as if the bright plastic somehow held the answers of the universe.
She turned and tugged his hand. “Come on.”
“Where?”
“I want to build a sand castle.” She led him to the spot where the sand was still wet but no longer brushed by waves from the outgoing tide.
Stunned, he just stared at her when she plopped down to her knees and started scooping damp sand into the bucket.
She