Billionaires' Secrets: Volatile Chemistry

Volatile Chemistry Part 10

Dominic agreed to accompany Tarrant to his favorite cigar bar for a celebratory round of drinks after the meeting. When the doors to the elevator opened, he saw Bella inside.

Heat flashed over his skin and made his tie feel tight.

Tarrant ushered him and the other executives into the narrow space. "You've met the lovely Bella Andrews, haven't you, Dominic?"

"Yes."

Her fitted dress—only slightly the worse for wear from being crushed under their two sweating bodies—still clung to her enticing curves. He could imagine only too well what she'd look like without it.

Now his pants felt tight.

"Bella, my dear, we're going for a drink, why don't you join us?"

"I'd love to, but—" She shot a glance at Dominic. He saw her swallow hard. "I have a lot of work to catch up on. I'm just going to get a coffee, then head back to the lab."

So you can waltz back in after-hours and spend quality time with the files.

Tarrant smiled. "So dedicated. And a body like Marilyn Monroe."

Dominic glanced at Bella, who stared at Tarrant with her lips pressed together. He cleared his throat. "I believe that's called sexual harassment, Dad."

"Oh, everyone around here knows I'm incorrigible." Tarrant winked. "If I didn't own the joint I'd have been fired years ago." The suited executives shared his chuckle. He put his arm around Dominic and marched him out the door on a cloud of testosterone.

Dominic resisted the urge to shake his head. No wonder Tarrant thought he walked on water. No one had the balls to tell him it was Plexiglass.

But why did it suddenly bother him that Bella was cheating his father?

Bella's hand shook as she added cream to her coffee in the deli.

Dominic's nod of acknowledgement in the elevator had been so cool. What did she expect? Their torrid lovemaking hadn't been followed by vows of love, or even affectionate cuddling.

He'd rolled aside and strode off to remove the condom. Came back dressed, his tie done up tight, and a dark, closed expression on his face.

The fun was over. Though fun wasn't the right word. There had been nothing playful about their lovemaking.

Some of the stinging, urgent desperation still clung to her. She'd been such easy prey. She deserved his scorn.

He'd used her to prove a point. That she'd do anything to keep her secret. No doubt he thought she'd just slept with him to keep him quiet. Shame tightened her muscles, compounded by the pathetic reality that his opportunistic embrace had meant so much to her.

Yes, apparently she was that starved for affection.

She'd better get a grip on herself because Dominic Hardcastle—or whatever name he usually went by—would never love her.

He'd love someone though, with the force and passion evident in the way he did everything. She admired the way he'd stood up to his father in the elevator. If everyone were more honest with Tarrant, maybe he wouldn't be so insufferable.

Bella tried to tear her thoughts from Dominic. Thinking about the impossible only intensified her loneliness. It was especially hard and strange feeling so alone as bodies pushed and jostled by her on the crowded sidewalk—everyone in a big rush to get home for the weekend.

She was in no hurry to go back to a house full of memories but empty of the people who once brought it to life.

Week by week, the life energy of the place seemed to slip away. Bella fought to keep alive the vision of her mother back in her beloved garden, complaining about tomato hornworms and Japanese beetles, and exclaiming over the size of her David Austin roses.