‘Black is what I need,’ he said. He put both hands around the mug and took it to his mouth.
Without a word, she put a thick chunk of fresh fruit bread, studded with figs and apricots, from her favourite baker in King Street in front of him. Then a dish of cream cheese and a knife. ‘Food might help,’ she said.
He put down his coffee, gave her a weary imitation of his usual glower and went to pick up the bread. ‘Let me,’ she said and spread it with cream cheese.
What was it about this man that made her want to comfort and care for him? He was a thirty-two-year-old billionaire, for heaven’s sake. Tough, self-sufficient. Wealthier than she could even begin to imagine. And yet she sometimes detected an air of vulnerability about him that wrenched at her. A sense of something broken. But it was not up to her to try and fix him. He ate the fruit bread in two bites. ‘More?’ she asked.
He nodded. ‘It’s good,’ he said.
Andie had to be honest with herself. She wanted to comfort him, yes. She enjoyed his company. But it was more than that. She couldn’t deny that compelling physical attraction. He sat at her kitchen table, his leather jacket slung on the back of the chair. His tanned arms were sculpted with muscle, his T-shirt moulded ripped pecs and abs. With his rough-hewn face, he looked so utterly male.
Desire, so long unfamiliar, thrilled through her. She wanted to kiss him and feel those strong arms around her, his hands on her body. She wanted more than kisses. What was it about this not-my-type man who had aroused her interest from the moment she’d first met him?
When he’d eaten two more slices of fruit bread, he pushed his plate away and leaned back in his seat. His sigh was weary and heartfelt. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I didn’t realise I was hungry.’
She slipped into the chair opposite him and nursed her own cooling cup of coffee to stop the impulse to reach over and take his hand. ‘Are you able to tell me about your dilemma?’ she asked, genuinely concerned.
He raked his hands through his hair. ‘My ex-wife is causing trouble. Again.’
In her research into Dominic, Andie had seen photos of Tara Hunt—she still went by his name—a petite, pale-skinned redhead in designer clothes and an over-abundance of jewellery.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, deciding on caution in her reaction. ‘Do you want to tell me about it?’ Was that why he wanted to see her? To cry on her shoulder about his ex-wife? Dominic didn’t seem like a crying-on-shoulders kind of guy.
He went to drink more coffee, to find his mug was nearly empty. He drained the last drops. ‘You make good coffee,’ he said appreciatively.
‘I worked as a barista when I was a student,’ she said.
She and Anthony had both worked in hospitality, saving for vacation backpacker trips to Indonesia and Thailand. It seemed so long ago now, those days when she took it for granted they had a long, happy future stretched out ahead of them. They’d been saving for a trip to Eastern Europe when he’d died.
She took Dominic’s mug from him, got up, refilled it, brought it back to the table and sat down again. He drank from it and put it down.
Dominic leaned across the table to bring him closer to her. ‘Can I trust you, Andie?’ he asked in that deep, resonant voice. His intense grey gaze met hers and held it.
‘Of course,’ she said without hesitation.
He sat back in his chair. ‘I know you’re friends with journalists, so I have to be sure what I might talk to you about today won’t go any further.’ The way he said it didn’t sound offensive; in fact it made her feel privileged that he would consider her trustworthy. Not to mention curious about what he might reveal.
‘I assure you, you can trust me,’ she said.
‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Tara found out about my impending deal with Walter Burton and is doing her best to derail it.’
Andie frowned. ‘How can she do that?’
‘Before I married Tara, she worked for my company in the accounts department. She made it her business to find out everything she could about the way I ran things. I didn’t know, but once I started dating her she used that knowledge to make trouble, hiding behind the shield of our relationship. None of my staff dared tell me.’
‘Not good,’ Andie said, wanting to express in no uncertain terms what she thought of his ex, yet not wanting to get into a bitching session about her.
‘You’re right about that,’ he said. ‘It’s why I now never date employees.’
His gaze met hers again and held it for a long moment. Was there a message in there for her? If she wasn’t a contractor, would he ask her out? If she hadn’t promised her partners to stay away from him, would she suggest a date?
‘That policy makes...sense,’ she said. What about after Christmas, when she and Dominic would no longer be connected by business? Could they date then? A sudden yearning for that to happen surprised her with its intensity. She wanted him.
‘It gets worse,’ he continued. ‘A former employee started his own business in competition with me—’ Andie went to protest but Dominic put up his hand. ‘It happens; that’s legit,’ he said. ‘But what happened afterwards wasn’t. After our marriage broke up, Tara used her knowledge of how my company worked to help him.’
Andie couldn’t help her gasp of outrage. ‘Did her...her betrayal work?’
‘She gave him the information. That didn’t mean he knew how to use it. But now I’ve just discovered she’s working with him in a last-minute rival bid for the joint venture with Walter Burton.’
Andie shook her head in disbelief. ‘Why?’ Her research had shown her Tara Hunt had ended up with a massive divorce settlement from Dominic. Per day of their short marriage, she had walked away with an incredible number of dollars.
Dominic shrugged. ‘Revenge. Spite. Who knows what else?’
‘Surely Walter Burton won’t be swayed by that kind of underhand behaviour?’
‘Traditional values are important to Walter Burton. We know that. That’s why we’re holding the party to negate the popular opinion of me as a Scrooge.’
‘So what does your ex-wife have to do with the deal?’
Dominic sighed, a great weary sigh that made Andie want to put comforting arms around him. She’d sensed from the get-go he was a private person. He obviously hated talking about this. Once more, she wondered why he had chosen to.
He drew those dark brows together in a scowl. ‘Again she’s raked over the coals of our disastrous marriage and talked to her media buddies. Now she’s claiming I was unfaithful—which is a big fat lie. According to her, I’m a womaniser, a player and a complete and utter bastard. She dragged out my old quote that I will never marry again and claims it’s because I’m incapable of settling with one woman. It’s on one of the big Internet gossip sites and will be all over the weekend newspapers.’ He cursed under his breath.
Andie could see the shadow of old hurts on his face. He had once loved his ex enough to marry her. A betrayal like this must be painful, no matter how much time had elapsed. She had no such angst behind her. She knew Anthony had been loyal to her, as she had been to him. First love. Sometimes she wondered if they might have grown apart if he’d lived. Some of their friends who had dated as teenagers had split when they got older. But she dismissed those thoughts as disloyal to his memory.
Andie shook her head at Dominic’s revelations about his ex—it got worse and worse. ‘That’s horrible—but can’t you just ignore it?’
‘I would ignore it, but she’s made sure Walter Burton has seen all her spurious allegations set out