“I’m calling to inform you that stalking is punishable by jail time,” she’d said the moment he answered the phone.
“Merry Christmas to you, too,” he’d said, his voice sending a shiver down her spine.
Tia had tried like hell to keep her resolve. “If I wanted you to call me I would have given you my number. On second thought, if you wanted to call me you probably should have asked for my number instead of getting it from someone else.”
“Wait a minute, are you upset about something?”
“Upset? That’s an understatement. Normally a man asks my name and then asks for my number. I don’t recall you doing, either.”
“My soon-to-be sister-in-law is Camille Davis. She told me your name. And you were so busy with your little fan club at the party after the fashion show, I didn’t get a chance to ask you anything.”
She sighed deeply. “Be that as it may, I don’t appreciate your uninvited phone calls. I want them to stop.”
He’d grown silent and for a moment she thought he may have hung up on her.
But then he spoke again. “Why don’t you take a minute to calm down and we’ll start this conversation all over again.”
“Why don’t you get over yourself? Every woman is not ready to fall at your feet, nor are they excited by your initiative to get to know them better. And for the record, I’m one of them.”
“Hold on a second. All I did was call to ask you out to dinner.”
“And I just happened to be that woman? This week? I know how you work and I’m not buying it, so you can just find yourself another flavor of the month. As a matter of fact, did I ask you to call? Did I give you permission to call?”
“No, but—”
She cut him off. “Then I’d advise you not to call me anymore. It’s as simple as that!”
Now, three months later, replaying the conversation in her head, she wondered if she had been a bit harsh. That wasn’t normally her nature, but she didn’t care. Trent Donovan was definitely used to getting what he wanted from women. And from the persistence in his voice on her answering machine she knew exactly what he wanted from her. Too bad he wasn’t going to get it.
That last statement was easier for her to say than actually believe. Especially since she hadn’t stopped thinking about him since the night of the fashion show. He was attractive, but that was an understatement—he was a Donovan after all. And while she normally wasn’t that focused on what was going on around her as she worked, the moment he’d touched her she’d been more than aware of his presence. It had begun as a slow burn then moved through her until it was a full-blown tornado storming through her, demanding her attention.
Luckily the after party was crowded, affording her the perfect opportunity to put distance between herself and the renowned Mr. Donovan. She had no other choice. Tia had learned her lesson: it was much better to be safe than sorry.
Chapter 2
“Whatever you said to her it couldn’t have been nice because the next day when I mentioned your name she almost bit my head off.” Camille Davis sat in a high-backed chair near the book shelf in the den of the Donovan estate.
Trent had been back at his childhood home for less than an hour and was already being chewed out by his brother’s fiancée. He liked Camille. She’d had a rough childhood and a witch of a stepmother. Her Hollywood producer father had died and through her grief she’d managed to grow up, attend college and build her own fashion empire.
Now she was engaged to Adam, his younger brother. Trent never thought Adam would get married. Then again, none of his brothers were supposed to get married. But ever since Linc had copped out and proposed to Jade, the Triple Threat Brothers had been in trouble.
It was up to Trent to stick to his guns. He didn’t trust women, that was number one. And there were more than a few that had proven his nontrust theory—Adam’s ex Kim, who had teamed up with Camille’s stepmother to break them up, undoubtedly came to mind.
No, Trent liked the company of women on a temporary basis. Anything beyond that was out of the question. Besides, he lived a dangerous life. One that worried his family constantly. Trent wasn’t about to put a wife and kids through that same ordeal.
“Hey, she’s the one who called me ranting and raving about rudeness and uninvited calls. I barely got a word in before she hung up on me,” he said defending his three-month old conversation with Tia St. Claire. It didn’t help that each time he saw a magazine cover or a CK Davis ad, it was Tia’s face that was smiling back at him.
“You were probably your normal arrogant self,” Camille quipped, then shook her head. “I should have never given you her number.”
“Whose?” Adam said coming to stand next to Camille.
Trent frowned as he watched his brother’s hand find Camille’s shoulder. Camille looked up at him and smiled. Their gazes locked as if they hadn’t seen each other in weeks. This was just the type of sappy crap he didn’t have time for.
“Tia St. Claire,” Camille answered.
“You’re still after her? It’s been months since the show. If you haven’t hooked up with her yet it might be time to let it go.”
Linc came up from behind Trent clapping him on his shoulder before he could respond to Adam’s remark. “What’s the matter? You losing your touch, bro?”
Trent gave them both a scowl. “Hell no, I’m not losing my touch. I called her a couple of times and when she called back she was a royal—”
“Don’t you dare call her out of her name,” Camille admonished.
She was small and a little on the shy side, but man, she could reprimand him with a tongue-lashing as swift as his mother. That was only one of the things Trent liked about her.
“She was not a nice lady,” he corrected and looked to Camille with a smirk for her approval. She smiled in return.
“I haven’t talked to her since then,” he finished.
“That’s probably because it sounds like she doesn’t want to have anything to do with you,” Linc’s wife, Jade, smirked, happily munching on a bowl of grapes as she sat, feet propped up, on the chaise lounge.
Trent didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking. His brothers accusing him of losing his touch and his sisters-in-law claiming a victory for womankind. “Look, nothing happened between us which was probably for the best. It’s over.”
“Well, she’s still pissed,” Camille said.
Trent shrugged. “That’s her problem.” He went to the bar to fix himself a drink.
“It doesn’t matter. Trent’s been all the way to the East Coast breaking hearts. He can’t possibly have time to worry about the ones he left here.” Linc chuckled as he sat next to his wife, leaning over to kiss her cheek.
“Oh
