Volatile Chemistry (Billionaires' Secrets Book 1) (7 page)

“No.” He leaned against the wall.

A rush of relief made her light-headed. “Thank you.”

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Not yet.” She bit her lip. “It’s got to be there somewhere.”

“What if it isn’t?”

“It is.” The door
whooshed
open and several people entered. Dominic’s steady gaze heated her skin but she didn’t flinch.

On the ground floor he waited until everyone else had left, then offered her his arm. “Where would you like to eat?”

“I usually get a hot dog in the park.”

“If eating a hot dog for lunch every day got you that body, I’m not inclined to mess with a good thing.”

They pushed out through the revolving door into the sharp midday sunshine. Her new heels clicked on the tarmac as they crossed Fifth Avenue and went into the park. Beneath the thin layer of civility suggested by his expensive suit, Dominic’s thick arm held hers tight.

“What do you want with me?”

“We have a deal, remember?” He tilted his chin, enjoying the sun on his face. “Or is breaking your word a habit with you?”

“I’ve never broken my word.”

“You told my dad you’re working against him?”

“I’m not! Well, I want my own father’s work back, but I haven’t been backpedaling on the science. I’m very proud of what we’ve achieved.”

“But you plan to take it with you?”

“No. I would never take work I’ve done for Hardcastle. I just want the basic research back. I won’t sue for any products I’ve developed here using it. My dad had no interest in cosmetics. His work had to do with the perception of reality.”

“Which I guess can translate into making people appear more trustworthy than they are.”

“I can’t believe I confided in you.”

He looked back at her. “You trusted me.”

“Why would I trust you?” She spoke her own question aloud.

“I have that kind of face.” His mouth widened into a predatory smile. “Mustard? Ketchup? Sauerkraut?” They’d reached a hot dog cart.

“The works.”

Dominic ordered their lunch from a vendor, then led her to a bench in the shade of a large oak. He took a big bite of his hot dog and chewed it. “Tarrant wants me to take over the company. Asked me what I want. He’ll give me anything.” He took another bite.

Bella frowned. “You mean, like, if you asked for my father’s research...” She blinked. Her Diet Pepsi bubbled in her nose. ‘The thought did occur to me.” He sipped his iced tea.

Her heart squeezed. “Would you do that for me?”

“Nope.” He took another bite. Chewed it, inclining his head to the sun again. Light and shade danced over the hard planes of his face and glinted in his black hair.

Bella tried to keep her breathing steady. “Why not?”

“Because if I did he’d figure out who you are and sue your dress right off you for breach of contract.”

Her dress tickled her hot skin. “Breach of contract?”

“As an employee you are contractually obligated to support the best interests of the company. What you’re doing is no different than a store clerk sticking their hand in the till.”

“The only contract I signed was the one agreeing that any scientific discoveries I make here are the intellectual property of Hardcastle. I already told you I don’t want to take that.”

“Doesn’t matter. You came here to take something. You think that’s legal? Check your employee handbook.” He sipped his tea without looking at her.

Employee handbook? She recalled a thick, red, spiral-bound book she’d filed away unopened. She wasn’t planning to run for Employee of the Month.

“Are you saying I can’t sue Tarrant, as I will be in breach of a contract I didn’t sign?”

“I didn’t say a thing.” He popped the last piece of hot dog in his mouth and chewed it. His dark eyes never left her face. “Want another?”

“No.” She glanced down at her uneaten hot dog. Her appetite had vanished. “So what should I do?” Her voice was shaky.

“You’re asking me how to screw over my own dad?” His dimples appeared. “You may look hot in that dress, but I have my limits.”

As if to test those limits, he gave her a once-over that threatened to scorch her skin. “Okay, so maybe I’m not sure where those limits are, but I’d give up your Quixotic quest to save the family fortunes if I were you, and enjoy the good gig you have going.” He tilted his head. “Perhaps that’s what your dad would have wanted.”

He said the last part softly. Not a hint of accusation or condescension. The thought turned over in her brain—which instantly rejected it.

“My dad lived for his work. It was everything to him. Without it he felt like an empty shell. He begged Tarrant to allow him to continue it here, but Tarrant wouldn’t let him.”

Dominic exhaled. “That does sound harsh.”

“I guess a white-haired scientist who still wears suits from the nineteen sixties didn’t fit his company image.” She dropped her unbitten hot dog and its wrapper into her lap. “If he’d just left my dad alone and let him continue his work, I wouldn’t be here. I’d be doing my own thing somewhere else. But as it is? I can’t. I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night.”

Dominic looked at her steadily. “Regaining his research won’t bring your dad back.”

But it could bring my mom back.

She swallowed. “I know that. But to know his work is in safe hands, that it won’t be forgotten, that’s priceless to me.”

She held out her hot dog. “Here, you have it. I’ve lost my appetite.”

She placed it in his wide palm and his fingers closed around it.

“I’m not letting you go back to work until you eat something.”

She shrugged. “Hot dogs aren’t good for you, anyway.”

“Come on.” He stood and tugged her to her feet. “I’m taking you somewhere for a real lunch.” He tossed the hot dog in a wastebasket and strode for the park exit. Her hand imprisoned in his, she hurried to keep up.

Ignoring her protests, he hailed a cab as soon as they stepped onto the sidewalk, then almost pushed her into it.

“Where are you taking me?” She slammed down on the vinyl seat, gasping for breath. She didn’t hear what he said to the driver.

Dominic eased his big body in next to her. The fine wool of his suit brushed her bare arm. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

“How do I know you’re not going to keep me a prisoner in your hotel room?”

Why had that image sprung to mind? And why did it trigger an alarming shiver of anticipation.

She glanced at the cab driver to see if he had rescuer potential. His rhythmic head bobbing didn’t look to be a good sign. An earphone peeked out from beneath his turban. Was that even legal?

“Hmm. Good idea.” The dimple nearest her made an appearance. “Except I don’t have a hotel room.”

“Where are you staying?” She gripped the door handle with an unsteady hand as they headed downtown, weaving back and forth through Fifth Avenue traffic in a way that made her stomach lurch.

“A friend’s place.”

She wondered if it was a female friend, then cursed herself. What did she care? She was hardly hoping for a relationship with Dominic Hardcastle.

She needed him to head straight back to Miami and her to find the file—ideally today.

This little detour was not helping.

He rolled down the window and inhaled a lungful of exhaust and secondhand cigarette smoke. “Damn. I do miss this city. We lived here until I was ten, then my mom got a job that moved us all over the place.”

“Are you thinking of moving back?” Her empty stomach cramped.

“Are you trying to say you’d miss me if I went home?”

“Not in the least.”

“I’d miss you.” He gave her a long-lashed sideways glance.

Flirt.
“You don’t even know me.” She ignored the funny feeling in her chest.

“I know you have a beef with Tarrant Hardcastle. That gives us something in common.”

“You said he’d give you anything you want. Figure out what you want and ask him for it.” His attempt to find common ground with her made her palms sweat. Was he setting her up for something?

“I know what I want.” A tiny frown etched his forehead as his gaze drifted over her cheek and chin. “I wonder if Tarrant would give
you
to me if I asked nicely.”

She whipped around to face him, her fingers tingling to slap his arrogant, handsome face.

He was grinning.

She fought a bizarre urge to laugh. “Oh, stop it. You have me where you want me because I was stupid enough to blab my whole sob story to you.”

“Yeah. You should be more cagey.”

“Thanks for the tip.”

“Anytime.” His black eyes roamed insolently over the front of her dress, where the patterned fabric clung to her breasts.

A sudden stray image assaulted her. His mouth on her breast. His tongue making a dark circle on the silk.

She lifted her head and stared out the window. She could feel her nipples peaked hard inside her bra. Wondered if he could see them.

She wanted to suck in a deep breath but she knew that would only draw her dress tighter over her breasts. “I do have work to do, you know.”

“Sure. Rifling through the drawers in my family’s business.”

“Actually, we have a new product coming out.” She wanted to prove that she earned her keep. ‘Two of my researchers have perfected a powder that creates the illusion of perfectly smooth skin. At first it didn’t work because oil in the skin broke it down, so the effect didn’t last long on a lot of people. Anita came up with a compound that absorbs oil and now we can offer a twelve-hour guarantee.”

Dominic looked politely interested. That irked her. “This stuff is effective enough to cover deep scarring. It will change a lot of people’s lives.”

“That’s great.”

“You think it’s silly.”

“I don’t. It’s a heck of a lot less silly than most of what Hardcastle tries to foist on its consumers. Though, if they sold you that dress I’ve got to thank them.”

“I bought it at Ann Taylor.” She smoothed the skirt and hid her smile of satisfaction.

“You would.”

They were stuck in traffic. Dominic still had the window open and a chorus of honks pummeled her ears.

“I bet your dad would be really proud of what you’re doing with his work.” His tone, warm and intimate, made her breath catch.

“He wasn’t interested in cosmetics. I think he’d have loved to work for the military, but they wouldn’t hire him.”

“Why not?”

“He was politically radical for a while after he came to the U.S. Belonged to some fringe Marxist group. He was out of politics by the time I was born, but I guess the stain lingers in the CIA files.”

“That’s a shame.” His sympathetic look almost affected her. “Maybe you inherited his risky passion for lost causes.”

Her back stiffened. “It’s not funny.”

“I know. That’s why I don’t want to see you screw up your life over something that can’t be changed.”

“Did you drag me out of my lab to lecture me?”

“Among other things. Feeding you and kissing you were higher on my agenda, but we seem to have gotten out of order.” He leaned forward and slid the partition aside, tapped on the driver’s shoulder and gave him some incomprehensible directions. They headed east on Fourteenth Street.

“Since we’re working backwards, can I kiss you now?” The question was straightforward.

Her answer more so. “No.”

Chapter Eight

B
ella’s pulse picked up. Would he force her? Hold their “deal” over her head?

His expression serious, Dominic raised his thumb and brushed it gently over her lips. “Shame.”

How dare he?
Her mouth quivered under his insolent touch.

How would he feel if she reached out and—say—ran her fingers through his hair? His thick black hair was combed back, but a natural wave pulled it into disorder that begged to be “fixed”. Her palms tingled.

Bella jerked her focus off him and stared out the window. The cab was taking them into the gridless labyrinth of the West Village. “You still haven’t told me where we’re going. Wouldn’t that be polite?”

“You know by now that I can be quite rude when the occasion calls for it.” Humor thickened his voice.

“Why do I feel like I should be calling a cop?”

“Maybe you should be.” He leaned forward and muttered something to the driver, who pulled over outside a small brownstone storefront.

She climbed out onto the sidewalk, self-conscious in her smart dress among the jean-clad people perched on the edges of sidewalk planters.

He held out his arm, gallant. Aware of all the eyes on her, she took it. He led her up some concrete stairs. Inside, people packed in front of a narrow counter. A chalkboard menu covered the far wall. Delicious aromas wafted in the air and she could hear the clatter of pans.