at those companies. People who lose their jobs.”
“So?”
There was a loud burst of mariachi music from the town below, and she looked in the distance at the dark, moonswept Pacific. “I’m biased, I guess. My grandfather had a candy company a long time ago. It did really well, then things fell apart. Ingredients became more expensive, and we didn’t have the nationwide distribution of the larger companies. Ten years ago, after my father took over, a conglomerate offered to buy Linden Candy. It would have made us wealthy, but my dad knew they’d close the factory and move production, leaving half our town out of work. So for the sake of his employees—his neighbors and friends—my father refused.”
“Foolish.”
“No, not foolish!” she retorted. “It was noble. Courageous, even. My dad said we would either all sink together, or he would find a way to make the company succeed.”
“And what happened?”
She looked down at her hands in her lap. “In spite of all his best efforts, the company went bankrupt.”
Xerxes gave a single firm nod. “He never should have allowed his feelings to override his business judgment.”
“He was protecting his employees!”
“He didn’t protect them. He failed them. And worse—he failed you. If he’d sold the company, you wouldn’t be working your way through college at the age of twenty-nine.”
She glared at him. “My father did the right thing. He held to his principles. I thought you of all people would appreciate that.”
“I of all people believe in facing reality. The company was a business. Not a charitable institution.”
“You sound so harsh!”
“That is how business works,” he said evenly, dipping his taco chips into his shrimp ceviche and fresh guacamole. “Things that were once successful die, they get replaced by the new. Business.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way.” She bit her lip, then said in a rush, “Someday, I’ll start it up again. I’ve made up a business plan. I’ll find a way to open the factory and—”
“Forget it,” he said brutally. “Accept it’s over and move on.”
She looked away, trembling. She took a gulp of lime margarita, then set the glass back down on the table. “It’s easy for you to say, isn’t it? You just break companies up for parts. Dissecting and eating them like a vulture.”
“It’s profitable.”
“You would have no clue how to truly run a company, to love it and invest your heart and soul in it.”
“You’re right,” he said. “And I wouldn’t want to. I don’t want it to be personal. It’s business.”
“Nothing’s ever personal for you, is it?” Putting her hands on the table, she pushed herself to her feet. “I feel sorry for you. I do.”
If it had been anyone else, he would have shrugged off their criticism and let them leave. But not Rose. She was the one person he couldn’t stand to be angry at him.
He reached his hand over hers. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I don’t wish to fight with you.”
Her eyes relented. “I don’t want to fight, either.” She licked her lips and said, “But if you could just see how much greater it could be, how much more satisfying and challenging, to actually create something of value, anything—”
“No,” he said. “Even if I could do it, I wouldn’t. It would be a waste of energy and money.” He rose to his feet. “You’ve been cooped up in this penthouse all day. Shall we go out?”
“Out?” she said in astonishment.
He shrugged, even as his eyes caressed her. “I hear music from town. Want to go dancing with me?”
She sucked in her breath. “You would let me go out in public? You’d trust me not to run to the police?”
“If you’ll give me your word you won’t, I’ll trust you.”
“I give you my word,” she said, then paused. “Anyway, I want to help Laetitia now. I…want to help you.”
Of course she did, Xerxes thought, his eyes searching her sweetly beautiful face as if memorizing it for eternity. He’d kidnapped her, seduced her, refused to answer her questions. And yet she wanted to help him. Rose had the most loving heart of any woman—any person—he’d ever known.
She bit her lip, her face suddenly drawn. “But when do you think Lars will finalize the divorce?”
Xerxes didn’t want to think about it. “Any day now.”
She looked sad, then brightened. “But we have tonight. And I can hardly believe how much I’ve seen of the world in such a short time,” she said as he wrapped a pale cashmere cardigan around her shoulders.
“You haven’t minded all the travel?”
“Mind it?” She ticked off her fingers. “Greece, the Maldives, and now Mexico. After spending my whole life close to home, barely leaving northern California, it’s been amazing!”
“That’s what I can’t imagine.”
“Never going anywhere?”
“Having a home that I didn’t wish to leave.”
“You’ve never had a home?”
He didn’t like the pity in her eyes. “I haven’t needed one.” He looked down at her. But you make everywhere feel like home to me, he thought. All he said was, “I’ve enjoyed our time together as well.”
“I wasn’t sure if you even liked me at first,” she said teasingly as he escorted her from the villa toward his rented MG convertible. “When you left it up to me to decide if we would even kiss…”
As he opened her door, he said, “I always knew I would get you into bed.”
She froze, then looked back at him. “You did?”
He suddenly wanted to tell her the truth. Had to tell her the truth. “I seduced you deliberately, Rose. Bit by bit. But I always knew I would win.”
“Oh.” Looking dazed, she climbed into the convertible and he closed the door behind her. Climbing into the driver’s side, he drove them out of the gated community down the winding hillside toward town. She remained silent for a few moments. He looked at her.
“Now do you regret our affair?” he said quietly.
“No.” She turned away. “It’s just…”
“Just?”
“When I meet the man I marry,” she said in a small voice, “what if he asks me why
