Read Volatile Chemistry (Billionaires' Secrets Book 1) Online

Authors: Jennifer Lewis

Tags: #Contemporary romance Revenge Billionaire Chemist Bastard Heir New York

Volatile Chemistry (Billionaires' Secrets Book 1) (11 page)

Tarrant’s chest lifted as he drew in a long breath. He adjusted his colorful tie. “Honor, my boy. Honor is what I’ve never had. Be the kind of person people respect. Someone they can trust. That’s what a true leader is.”

Dominic’s tie seemed to be cutting off his circulation. He loosened it with a finger. “That’s what my mom taught me.”

“Well, you listen to her. She’s a good woman. Better than I deserved.” He laughed.

Thoughts rushed Dominic’s mind. Tarrant would be furious if he knew that his own son stood by and watched Bella Andrews damage the company from inside. But his mom?

She’d be devastated.

He wasn’t raised this way. To keep secrets from his own flesh and blood to protect a woman with a scheme so crazy it was doomed to failure before she even started?

He took another gulp of whiskey.

The lure of Bella’s sensual lips and shapely hips had turned him into someone he didn’t even recognize.

He’d told her she was nuts. Warned her off.

Did she listen? No.

So why was he protecting her?

His brain started to swim and he put his glass of whiskey on the table.

“Dad—” the word almost took his breath away as it stumbled from his mouth. Tarrant looked up from his cigar, his focus intense. “There’s a problem in the lab.”

“What kind of problem?”

“It’s Bella Andrews. She thinks you cheated her father out of some research. She wants it back.”

Tarrant held his gaze. “How do you know this?”

“She told me.” He tried not to feel the sharp knife of guilt in his gut.

His father’s eyebrow raised slightly. “Who the hell was her father and what does he have to do with me?”

“A scientist named Bela Soros. A lot of the work they’re doing now is based on his research. Something to do with nanotechnology and altering surface texture.”

Tarrant waved his cigar. “I don’t understand a word of that stuff. If Kreskey told me to buy some research, I bought it. He left a year ago and Bella’s his replacement.”

“She seems to think you underpaid.”

“Entirely possible.” Tarrant’s eyes narrowed and he took a long drag on his cigar. Blew out the smoke. “I am in business, as you know.”

“So her dad died and her mom is short of money. She wants the research back.”

Tarrant blinked. “I’m crying. And how exactly does she propose to do that?”

Dominic inhaled a measured breath. “She’s looking for proof that you underpaid, then she plans to sue to get her father’s work back.”

He could almost swear he saw a twinkle in those sharp, aqua eyes. “I do enjoy a good lawsuit.” His expression grew fierce and he pulled a phone from his pocket. “Shame we won’t get to have one, because she’s
fired.

 

Chapter Eleven

 

A
drenaline shot through Dominic. “Wait. She’s doing it because she’s worried her mom is going to lose their family home.”

“What the hell do I care about that? If her father sold me his damn research, it’s mine. And I thought I was lucky to get her.” He blew out a snort. “What the heck is that new HR number?”

“Dad.” The word rolled off his tongue more smoothly
this
time, perhaps because he said it deliberately. He needed to appeal to Tarrant’s emotions. He was beginning to suspect Tarrant did have actual emotions rather than simple reptilian reflexes. “The work she’s been doing is at a crucial phase. If you let her go now—especially if she’s angry—the project could fall apart and she’s a loose cannon out there just when you least need to deal with one.”

Tarrant exhaled a stream of acrid smoke. “Something tells me you have a plan.”

“Keep her here. Watch her. Clean out the files so there’s no way she can find what she’s searching for. Lock her in somehow until the project is finished. I’ve talked to her already and I
think
she’ll come to her senses once she sees that the future of her father’s research is here, not off somewhere in her imagination.”

Tarrant’s eyes had narrowed to slits. “You seem awfully concerned about Miss Andrews. Or whatever her name really is.” The corners of his mouth tilted up. “She is a beauty, isn’t she? For a scientist, at least.”

The last caveat raised Dominic’s hackles and gave him a fierce urge to defend her beauty in any arena. He managed to get a hold of himself. “She’s a smart woman who can take Hardcastle to the next level of product development. Scientists are like artists, they can be difficult to work with because they don’t see the world the way others do.”

He leaned toward his dad and held his gaze. “But we entrepreneurs need them. Their vision and creativity drive the world right alongside our energy and hard cash. One can’t thrive without the other.”


Hmm
…” Tarrant pressed a finger to his lips. “I always did like the advice to keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Never followed it myself because I never can resist
r
unn
ing
an enemy through if he gets close enough, but it’s the beginning of a new era.”

Tarrant held his glass out for a refill and a waiter rushed to top it off. “Here’s to the future, and my son’s vision.”

Dominic didn’t want to drink to a toast that insinuated he’d be implementing that vision in his father’s place, but he did.

Bella was safe.

The whiskey tasted sharp, almost sweet, and the woodsy thickness in his throat soothed him.

“I’ll brief security and tell them to keep an eye on her.” Tarrant’s eyes glittered and one eyebrow lifted slightly. “Unless you want to keep this hush-hush and watch her yourself.”

“I’ll watch her.” Dominic put down his glass. “I’ll head over there and have the files moved before I go back downtown.”

Tarrant nodded slowly. “You’re different from me, all right. I like it. I really like it.”

Before Dominic left they embraced. He held his father’s frail body and a fist of emotion tightened in his chest. Maybe blood really was thicker than water? He felt relief that he’d come clean about Bella, yet managed to protect her interests, at least for now.

He’d be able to look himself in the mirror while he shaved tomorrow morning.

Or would he?

He stepped out into the streetlights of Fifth Avenue and started walking back to the Hardcastle building.

Bella had thought they had a “deal.” She’d traded a kiss for it. Maybe even given him her body to keep him quiet.

And memories of that lush, willing body stirred his groin.

She’d been as turned on as he was. Hot, slick and ready.

He pulled his tie off and shoved it in his pocket. The night air felt sticky and oppressive.

Every time they touched, a surge of rough, unregulated voltage shot through him. He could picture her right now, lips wet and parted, eyes glazed with passion, her body writhing against his.

He shrugged off his jacket and threw it over his arm. Apparently he’d drunk more than he thought. If he didn’t know better he’d imagine that was her walking along the sidewalk right toward him, curvy hips swaying to an internal rhythm that stirred his blood.

Wait a second.

He squinted. That damned dress. It
was
her.

She looked entranced, her lovely face angled skywards to the streetlamps and the stars. Instead of holding her briefcase in her hand, she clutched it to her chest like a newborn babe. Her springy pace suggested that she was almost ready to break into a dance of joy.

He inhaled to call her name—then froze.

Her joyful expression. Her bouncy stride.

She’d found what she was searching for.

He turned so his back was to her, bent his head and examined
his
watch until she went past him, heels beating rhythmically on the sidewalk.

Then he started after her, his stride silent in the shadows.

Bella pushed through the doors leading down into Grand Central Station. If anyone was watching, Dominic would have looked pretty suspicious pacing after her like a hungry panther, sweat dampening his white shirt.

She scanned the train schedules up on the big board, then hurried off to a track. He stayed far enough behind that she didn’t spot him. Climbed on the train two coaches back from her.

He bought a ticket from the conductor on the Metro North train and since he didn’t know where she was getting off, he paid all the way to the end of the line. At the 125th Street Station he leaned out the door and scanned the platform to make sure she didn’t get out, then he settled in for a long ride because the first stop wasn’t for over half an hour.

When the train chugged over a bridge into the Bronx, his mind cleared enough to wonder what he was doing.

I’m watching her.

Just like he’d promised his father.

Funny how he was thinking of the old man as his father all of a sudden, instead of the infamous Tarrant Hardcastle. He was still an arrogant jerk who’d been a deadbeat dad, but now for some reason Tarrant was
his
deadbeat dad.

Dominic shoved a hand through his hair. He wanted to call his mom and ask her about Tarrant’s visit. But how would he explain the rattle of the train?
Yeah, Mom, I’m trailing this girl.

She’d love it. Always after him to find someone nice. Dropping hints about grandchildren, and lamenting over his lack of interest in a meaningful relationship.

The man in the seat in front turned around and he realized he’d laughed out loud.

Bella wasn’t so nice by most people’s standards. Holding a job with a hidden agenda to undermine the company. Kissing the boss’s son to win his silence.

Both strategies doomed to failure.

When she got off the train, he stepped out after her. He skulked in the shadows as she walked up to a light-colored car and unlocked it. The taxi driver he approached didn’t even blink when he asked him to follow her.

T
his
was crazy. He should just confront her and ask her if she’d found the papers she needed. Make her hand them over because they were Hardcastle property.

But he didn’t want to.

He rolled up his shirtsleeves and leaned forward, watching the taillights of her car through the windshield of the cab.

This was fun.

Instead of the picturesque house he’d expected, her car swung into the long driveway of something called Compass Points. She parked in the lot, then ran to the main entrance of a hulking building that he couldn’t see well in the
semi-
darkness.

“Want me to wait?”

“No thanks.” Dominic paid the cabbie and watched him drive away.

The cool night breeze tickled his skin. He inhaled a lungful of fresh country air and looked up at the spill of stars in the black sky. What the heck was this place?

He strained to read a sign in the dark.
OUTPATIENT ADMITTING.
Some kind of hospital?

After about five minutes the door opened again, and Bella came out. She still clutched her leather briefcase to her chest, but even in the darkness he could see her cheer had evaporated. Her steps were short and stilted, unlike the swinging strides of earlier.

She looked like she could use a hug.

Dominic’s strode out of the darkness. “Hey, Bella.”

She froze under a parking lot floodlight, straining to see in the darkness. Panic tightened her features.

“It’s me. Dominic.”

She clutched her briefcase tighter. Sharp angles and shadows of light distorted her scared expression. “What are you doing here?”

“I followed you. What is this place?”

She stood like a statue.

He walked toward her, an uncomfortable feeling in his chest. “Hey, you okay? I’m not going to arrest you for anything, you know.” His attempt at levity fell as flat as the asphalt.

She swallowed. “I don’t know why you’re here.” Her voice was high and thin.

Dominic scrubbed a hand over his face.
Because I’m surveilling you.
The knife in his gut twisted.

Still rigid, she stared at him. “Why did you follow me? You’re scaring the heck out of me.”

Truth be told, he was scaring the heck out of himself too. He wanted to do “the right thing,” but the map kept shifting and his internal compass kept spinning.

Right now he mostly wanted to kiss her, which was not “the right thing” by any stretch of the imagination.

He repeated his question. “Where are we?”

“It’s a hospital.” Her throat sounded tight. “My mom is here.”

“She’s sick?” He could see her worried expression in the harsh fluorescent glare. His guilt ratcheted up another notch.

“They’re not sure what’s wrong. Can’t figure it out. She won’t respond to drugs.” Her fingers gripped the leather of her bag as she held it clutched against her chest like a shield. “Things have been so stressful for her since my dad died last year.”

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