water she’d just sipped slid down the wrong way, eliciting a sporadic cough. He actually thought the tears were for Broderick and the end of their marriage. If she wasn’t fighting for her life, she’d have laughed. She’d thought she’d loved him and that their marriage had been good. No television show could’ve presented a more perfect one. Over time, she’d realized her love had merely been on a friendship level. Their marriage had been doomed from the start. Only he’d known the reason, though. Yet she’d also been at fault. Why had she ever attempted to give her heart to one man when it belonged to another?
His heavy hand banged on her back. “Are you all right?”
She nodded while pushing his arm away. “Yes,” she croaked out, and held up a finger so he wouldn’t call 911. “Just...need a minute.”
The concerned man holding out his arms as if ready to catch her if she should faint was not what she’d expected after following the lifestyle he’d lived over the years. He’d recently calmed his partying, being seen on the celebrity circuit less frequently and dating women for longer than a week at a time, but even those few monthlong relationships never lasted and she wondered why.
The only thing the women he dated had in common was that they were gorgeous and all seemed to possess the same social rank. If the media were correct, he didn’t look at race, culture or size when choosing his females. He’d dated Amelia Wilson and Sara Bloom, both of whom weren’t just overweight, but obese. Her heart broke with each woman he’d been photographed with. Why couldn’t he have fallen for her?
Not paying attention to his romances would’ve led to a happier life, but she couldn’t fully release him from her world. And now here they were. Together.
She noticed the wet area on the lapel of his jacket and gasped. “Oh, my goodness. I’ve ruined your suit.” She pulled out a wad of tissues from the box he’d given her and attempted to dab the area. As if that would help her save a garment that could probably pay off a month’s rent on the club. It didn’t ease her guilt to see that she’d gotten lipstick on the tie. She’d heard he favored Hermès.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, gripping her wrist. “Besides, it’s nothing my dry cleaner can’t get out.”
Every pulse point in her body bounded at his touch. With reluctance, she slipped out of his grasp. “Okay. I’ll pay for the dry cleaning.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
She waved her hands at his chest, remembering how solid and supportive he’d felt holding her. “But it’s my fault.”
Shaking his head, he grabbed her floundering hands and held them between his. “Really, Tanya. It’s no big deal.”
Ignoring the heat thrumming into her from his touch would require too much effort from her drained body, so she pulled her hands away and picked up the bottle of water from the table.
Once again, a softness returned to his eyes. What was he thinking?
“I’ll help you get the club up and running.”
Had she heard correctly? “I... I only wanted your advice. You don’t have to help me any more than that.”
“You know Josh even better than I do. The only time he asks for help is when the situation is desperate. I can’t let him down.”
He and Josh had been close since the moment they’d met. It had taken effort to tamp down the jealousy she’d had of sharing her sibling with Miguel. “Thank you. But I’ll pay you for your consultation.”
He cocked both his head and brow.
“I don’t have the money now, but with your Midas-branding touch, I’ll be rolling in dough soon enough.”
She had missed his contagious laughter over the years. “I still won’t take your money. This is a favor to a friend. And his sister.”
Tanya bowed her head to hide the sting. So they weren’t even friends. Sure they’d spent ten years not speaking, but it sounded harsh for him not to acknowledge what they’d once been. She’d always wanted more from him, but hadn’t been able to get it, so she’d ended up with nothing. Now they’d be working together. Would she be able to keep her heart locked up and safe? Did she have a choice? She looked up to have his glorious eyes fill her vision, and for a moment, her hands itched to hold his face still so she could feel his luscious lips against hers just one more time. Maybe the need for his touch would go away if she indulged her whim.
He nodded. “No argument for once? Good.”
“I will pay you back,” she vowed.
His grin brought out those delectable dimples. “Obstinate as always, I see.”
Out of all the things that had changed, her stubbornness had probably gotten worse. “You don’t know the half of it.”
Miguel got out of the most unobtrusive car he owned, a black Mercedes sedan, after parking half a block away from Tanya’s nightclub. Her tears had shattered his heart yesterday. Making things better for her had been his only goal. If he could make her club a success, then he’d do it. No matter what.
Not only had she turned out to be even more beautiful than she’d been in college, she also had the inner strength to do anything she put her mind to. Something they had in common.
Holding her had felt right. Sure, she’d been bawling, but having her body melt against his brought back the memory of the incredible kiss they’d shared in college. The one kiss he’d compared all first kisses to. They’d all fallen short. Referring her to one of his outstanding marketing officers would’ve been the most logical action to take to rebrand The Palace, with the added benefit of keeping him away from her. Away from being enticed by her beauty and the temptation of leaning in to smell her light honeysuckle perfume every chance he could get.
While they’d been in his office, he’d fought his attraction to her and won. Who was he kidding? If it wasn’t for the fact that she was related to Josh, he would’ve had her in his bed last night. Or at least tried to get her there. Normally running on instinct, he’d had difficulty reading her. One minute, she’d stared at him with the same desire in her gaze he remembered and his stomach would flip. The next moment, she’d seem to remember how much he’d disappointed her by choosing her brother’s friendship over her professed love, and she’d become cold.
Both aspects of her intrigued him. That’s why he should turn away from the cool metal door handle beneath his palm, hustle to the car and leave skid marks on the road as he raced away. A good sense of self-preservation would’ve had him doing just that. He opened the door.
The full house of patrons enjoying a meal in the downstairs restaurant piqued his interest. The club might be doing abysmally, but the restaurant conducted a brisk business. The tables were filled with people who may have felt too old to party the night away but who still wanted to have a good time in a trendy atmosphere.
The hostess didn’t recognize Miguel in his disguise of a hat, full beard and stooped stature. He’d learned to be a chameleon over the past few months in order to be incognito in his personal life. His father’s ultimatum still didn’t
