perfect cocktail dress in a tiny boutique during a mad lunch-hour shopping dash drained away. Suddenly, her black jersey off-the-shoulder dress felt sleazy instead of subtly sexy. The garment exposed more cleavage than she was used to revealing. Not that the dress was daring by most people’s—or Miami’s—standards, but it was by Tara’s.
She wanted a sweater. Or an overcoat.
And she wished Rand were here. But an international call about a problem at an Italian port had detained him as they were leaving her house. She’d driven herself and he planned to follow as soon as he could.
As if her thoughts had conjured him, Rand strode through the doorway. He wore a black dinner jacket over a white collarless shirt and black, sharply creased pants.
The years in California had been good for him. He’d always been confident, but he seemed even more so now. He dominated the room by simply being here, and it wasn’t because of his position. It was the air of command he radiated. Conversations stalled and heads turned.
He scanned the room and his attention locked on her. He stopped in his tracks. His gaze slowly raked her from head to toe and back. At any other time his heated look would have made her shiver with awareness and pleasure. But not tonight. Not knowing that others thought she’d sold herself to get this job.
Yes, she was sleeping with Rand, but not because of work. It was because she thought they might be perfect life partners not convenient temporary bedmates.
“Excuse me, Patricia.” Tara forced herself to move toward Rand. Her unsteady legs had nothing to do with the obscenely high heels she’d bought to go with the knee-length dress with a longer hem in the back that swished flirtatiously as she walked.
She stopped a circumspect yard away from him. “I’ve had the bartender serve drinks and appetizers. We’re not far behind schedule. You’ll still have time to mingle. All I need is a sign from you when you’re ready for dinner to be served.”
His eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?”
Had her tone given away her agitation? She made a conscious effort to blank her face. “They’re waiting to see who you’re going to fire. Let me get your drink.”
He grabbed her elbow. “Tara.”
She tugged but he didn’t release her. His long, warm fingers held tight. She could feel the eyes of the executives on them. “Don’t. Don’t touch me. Not here. Please.”
He frowned at her then shifted to stand between her and their guests, turning his back to the room and blocking her view of the executives and theirs of her. “I’ll ask again. What’s wrong?”
She hesitated, but if Rand was concerned with his credibility as CEO then he needed to know. “They know we’re living together, and they think I slept with you to get this job.”
His lips flattened into a thin line. “You knew sharing an address would cause problems.”
“Yes… No. I didn’t think it through. I didn’t expect…animosity.”
“You want me to move out?” His eyes searched hers.
If she wanted a chance with Rand, it was now or never. This opportunity wouldn’t come again. She’d lived through watching her mother fade more with each passing day. She could handle a little gossip.
Live your life without regrets, Tara.
Lifting her chin, she squared her shoulders. “No.”
“Then you have to suck it up and deal with their attitudes. You and I know the truth. We’re both profiting from this situation.” He waited until she nodded, then faced his employees. “Thank you for coming. I know you have questions. I’ll answer as many of those as I can tonight. But first I want to thank Tara. She’s put her life on hold this year for KCL.
“I recruited her and bribed her to return as part of the transition team because my father always claimed she was the best PA he’d ever had. In four short days, I’ve learned that if anything, he underestimated her worth. Tara has already become an invaluable asset to me. I place a great deal of trust in her opinions.”
With a few words Rand implied the employees had better respect her, or else. After his gentleness last night, his support now was enough to make her eyes sting. She blinked to hold back the tears. She’d had to be strong for her mother for so long. Having someone stand up for her made her throat tighten.
No wonder she’d fallen in love with Rand five years ago.
“Most of you are familiar faces,” Rand continued. “I look forward to getting to know the rest of you and learning how you believe you can increase sales in your brand. We have issues to address, and we will be making adjustments this year. But for the most part, KCL is on the right course. Your input is and will always be welcome. I have an open door policy, but if at any time you can’t reach me, you can take your concerns to Tara and trust that she will relay everything you say to me. We work as a team.”
Tara saw Patricia Pottsmith stiffen.
Rand turned to Tara. “I’ll take that drink now.”
She smiled at him and nodded. He’d called them a team. He couldn’t possibly know how badly she wanted that to be true in every sense of the word or how hard she planned to work to make it happen. And every ounce of kindness he showed her only made her more determined to recapture the passion of their past.
Tara tapped on Rand’s closed bedroom door.
Seconds passed, but he didn’t answer. She knew he was here because she’d heard him come upstairs while she was removing her makeup.
Was he avoiding her? The evening had gone nicely for the most part. There had been some tension, but Rand had handled it well. And she wanted to tell him that.
She rapped again, harder this time. She was on the verge of returning to her room when the door flew open. A dripping Rand stood on the other side. Water streamed from his hair, cascading over his bare, broad shoulders and trickling through the dark curls on his chest and belly to be absorbed by the mauve towel encircling his hips. The dark hairs on his legs clung to his tanned flesh.
She jerked her gaze from his bare feet to his eyes. He looked annoyed, but that didn’t stop hunger from swirling in her midsection. Not even the feminine, colored towel could lessen his masculine appeal. Bubbles clung to his neck behind his left ear. Shampoo suds?
She hugged her robe tighter around her waist, fisting her fingers in the fabric and fighting the urge to brush the bubbles away. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were in the shower.”
“What do you want, Tara? A command performance?”
She flinched. “N-no. I wanted to thank you for tonight, for backing me. And I wanted to tell you that you handled the executives’ anxiety better than Everett would have.”
His jaw shifted and his eyes narrowed. “Thanks. Good night.”
He pivoted and stalked back into the room without closing the door.
Don’t let him walk away this time.
She followed him, admiring the wide, droplet-spattered
