her father’s oppressive office, passing him with a swish of her long hair. Ever the reigning princess.
He loosed a smile, enjoying the sight of her full bottom beneath her unbecoming black dress. His gaze remained on those long dainty legs that were deceptively strong, that had once clung tightly to his hips in the throes of passion.
Certainly if he put his mind to it he could have her back in his arms, back in his bed. And that was a complication he had no intention of taking on. Too much was at stake to risk satisfying his libido no matter how tempting. And she damned sure was tempting!
Ironic that the only passion between them now was anger and that shimmered off her in sizzling waves. Even that set his pulse racing, he admitted, sobering instantly.
If only he could cease wanting her more than he’d ever wanted a woman. If only he could purge her from his system once and for all.
He gave his French cuffs a tug and followed her into the room, shutting the door and his emotions firmly behind him. She visibly jumped and he swore.
“Relax,” he said. “I don’t intend to pounce on you.”
“Excuse me for not trusting you,” she said, still presenting her painfully straight back to him.
He fisted his hands, resisting the urge to cross to her and force her to face him. Touching her would be a major mistake.
“That goes both ways, Delanie.”
She whirled to face him, features pinched tight. “If you distrust me so, then why do you want to negotiate with me?”
“I don’t,” he said frankly. “As I told you before, you are the bride’s choice.”
“And you’d do anything to please her.”
“Yes,” he bit out, “but—”
“Including corporate rape,” she interjected, chin thrust out and accusing eyes fixed on him.
He stiffened, the explanation poised on his tongue forgotten. “My takeover of Tate Unlimited was aboveboard.”
“Perhaps,” she said, chin up. “But your motive was revenge, proving you’re no better than my father.”
His fingers wadded into fists. “Never compare me to him.”
The warning was given in the strong, flat monotone that always convinced his opponents to switch topics. Color instantly bloomed on her too-pale cheeks, like vibrant English roses blooming amid snow, but her chin remained up and her gaze glittered defiance.
“Are you denying you acted out of vengeance?” she asked.
“No. But if I was in the same league as your father I would overextend Tate Unlimited until it was destroyed, as he did to my vineyard.”
Lines creased her delicate brow. “What?”
He drove his fingers through his hair and swallowed a curse. “Do not pretend you weren’t aware of its downfall.”
“I had no idea.” She shook her head, voice soft, big blue eyes wide. “Please tell me the truth.”
The look, the plea … That’s all it took to shift his plans off kilter. To get him thinking about her. In his arms. In his bed.
Her innocent act was worthy of an award, he thought grimly.
“You were vice-president of Tate Unlimited. How could you not know when you had access to all corporate records?” he asked.
Color flooded her face and she looked away. “It was a token position. I served as his hostess at business functions and, as he termed it, a charming diversion to his potential clients during intense initial meetings.”
He wouldn’t allow himself to believe her, no matter how much he might want to. “Fine. Play innocent. It doesn’t matter.”
Her fists landed on the plush back of the chair. “I am not playing innocent. I am ignorant of what my father did to your family’s company once he gained control, or why he would destroy something he obviously wanted so badly.”
Her wide eyes pleaded with his, open, unguarded. He huffed out a breath. Swore.
“Sagrantino grapes are prized throughout Italy and the world and my family’s winery grew the best. It was our legacy but few had heard of us outside of Italy because we couldn’t produce enough to satisfy world demand.” A muscle pulsed along his lean jaw. “That’s why I sought your father out. I needed financial backing as well as a noted exporter who could place our wine worldwide. Once he had wrested control of my family’s company, he destroyed it with gross mismanagement.”
“I’m so sorry he did that to you.”
“As am I, because his impatience and ignorance destroyed the vineyard.”
It was time to let the past drop into the black hole of his memories and hammer the lid back on it. He was in control of all that David Tate had owned. That evened the score as far as he was concerned.
As for Delanie, she was back in his life only because of his vow to please his sister. Once she finished planning the wedding, it would be better for both of them if they never saw each other again.
“Your small company has achieved a degree of favorable notoriety,” he said.
She gave him a long appraising look. “I’m surprised you noticed.”
“It was brought to my attention.”
His gaze drilled into hers as she stood behind her father’s chair. “I’m giving you the chance to gain sole ownership of Elite Affair, debt-free, by successfully planning a lavish carte blanche wedding that will be photographed and reported worldwide.”
She went absolutely still, eyes widening like saucers. “Why are you willing to hire me with our history between us?”
It was a sound question, especially considering what he’d done—storming the citadel and winning. “You are my sister’s choice because of your company’s promise to work with the bride to make her wedding special. Every plan you do is unique.”
She crossed her arms beneath her bosom and gave the most unladylike snort, as if his compliment meant nothing to her and that almost made him smile. “Does your bride know that you are entrusting arrangements for her wedding to your former lover?”
He shook his head and let a rusty chuckle escape. This bolder side of Delanie was a welcome switch from the demure girl he’d known.
“I am not that trusting,” he admitted. “The bride is my sister, Bella, and she wants someone who will understand her needs and abide by her wishes. She needs your special touch, Delanie.”
Her eyes widened again and the faintest flush stole over her cheekbones. “I wasn’t aware you had a sister.”
“I didn’t know myself until eight years ago.” His hand cut the air, dismissing the topic from further inquiry. “It is complicated.”
“I’ve
