A multimillion-dollar family dynasty was hard to walk away from. And that's what Dominic Hardcastle intended to do. Until he met his father's employee Bella Andrews. She was intriguing and sexy beyond reason... and out to ruin his estranged, ruthless father. So Dominic offered to keep her secret if she'd keep him company...after hours.Everything about Dominic set off alarms in Bella's head. For he had the power to destroy her plans. Maybe some intense overtime with Mr. Tall, Dark and Dangerous was needed. Suddenly her scheme didn't seem so simple...or her heart so safe....From the Publisher"Get out before I call security!" The woman's voice rang across the large space. Dominic Di Bari blinked in fierce light that poured through a wall of windows. Apparently she had no idea who he was. He took a step forward. "I said--" "I heard what you said." He could just make out a figure at the far end of the room, small in the cavernous space. "I don't believe we've met." "The sales training conference is on the fourteenth. This is fifteen." She strode toward him, heels clicking on the marble. He squinted, but still couldn't see much. She had a white lab coat on. Computers and other high tech equipment punctuated long countertops. A white marble floor magnified the late afternoon sunlight blasting in through the windows. "Is this some kind of lab?" "I hardly see that it's any of your business." "A week ago, I'd have agreed with you." Before the strange phone call that turned his life upside down. "I warned you I'd have to call security." She pulled a phone from a pocket in her lab coat. He couldn't help but notice that her legs went on almost forever. She dialed the number and tapped her foot on the floor, looking anywhere but at him. He crossed his arms and fought a smile that kept trying to sneak across his mouth. Judging from those legs he'd bet there was quite a body hidden under all that white Permanent Press polyester. Straight brown hair with natural-looking gold highlights grazed her shoulder as she pressed the phone to her ear. "Yes, Sylvester, there's an intruder on fifteen. I've asked him to leave but he won't." She shot him a hostile glance. Gray eyes. "Thank you, I'd appreciate that." She snapped her phone shut. "Security will be here in a few moments. Now is your chance to exit with dignity." "Dignity can be so dull." He leaned against the door frame. Her anger lit her cool eyes and hardened the determined set of her chin. "Are you a researcher here?" "As it happens, I'm an Executive Vice President in the cosmetics division." She pursed her lips. "Interesting." So Tarrant's eye for the ladies extended to those he picked to run his company. This woman didn't look a day over twenty-five. Obviously legs trumped experience around here. Hardly surprising, given what he knew about Tarrant Hardcastle, the jerk DNA tests had proved to be his biological father. He heard an elevator open behind him. "This is him." She pointed a long, graceful finger at him. No nail polish. Shouldn't she be wearing some if she was VP of cosmetics? "Mr. Hardcastle." The friendly middle-aged security chief who'd been instructed to give him the run of the building gave a little nod. Dominic knew he should correct him. He'd been Dominic Di Bari his whole life and he had no intention of changing his name now to suit some egomaniacal billionaire who needed an instant son. But right now being Mr. Hardcastle suited his purposes. Her pretty pink lips parted. "What?" "You heard the man." Dominic shifted his weight. "Sylvester, is there a problem?" "Ms. Andrews mentioned an intruder." "I think there's been some mistake." Dominic spoke slowly, and let that smile he'd been fighting pull his mouth upwards. "Dominic." He held out his hand for her to shake. She stared at it in horror. Then she stepped forward and shook it. "Bella Andrews. I had no idea. I must apologize. We deal with a lot of sensitive material in this lab and we can't have strangers..." she trailed off. "I quite understand." Her skin was soft and smooth--as it should be, given her chosen profession. Her palm heated against his as he held her hand a couple of beats longer than was truly polite. Her gray eyes gave away nothing of her thoughts. When he let go of her hand she pulled it back fast and turned to the security guy. "Thanks, Sylvester, sorry to have bothered you." They stood in silence while Sylvester made his exit. He could almost feel her burning curiosity as a palpable force in the chemical scented air. He smiled, as if to invite her most probing questions. "You're one of Tarrant's relatives?" Her skin colored after she asked. "His son." About the AuthorJennifer Lewis was born in Manhattan, but grew up in London where she spent her youth reading fairy tales and soaking up history that sparked her imagination. She returned to the States for college and a career in media, and currently lives in New York with her husband and young children. Please visit her on the web at http://www.jenlewis.com.
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