employee—or anyone for that matter. Humiliation had been his father’s specialty. Rand knew firsthand. And he didn’t like it.
But for a moment he’d seen an earnest and tender look in Tara’s eyes that convinced him she wanted to make more out of last night than there was. He’d had to snuff that notion fast.
Last night… He shook his head. Last night he’d come too close for comfort to losing his head and forgetting what was at stake. Too close to forgetting she’d taken him in once before with her passion-glazed eyes and words of love.
Still, he’d been a bastard. Just like his old man.
Before he could rise to find her and apologize the door flew open and Tara stormed back through. She marched toward him with her fists clenched by her sides and angry red streaks marking her cheekbones.
Would she punch him? He deserved it.
She stopped in front of his desk, her body trembling. “I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to get out of your part of our deal with your rude, crass comment. But don’t forget for one moment who loses if I quit. I just left one obnoxious boss. I will not tolerate another one. The only reason I’m not already cleaning out my desk is because I gave you my word and because Nadia and Mitch can’t help it if their brother is sometimes a jerk. But if you make one more nasty remark like that, Rand Kincaid, I’ll revoke my promise and I’ll walk. And you will fail your brother and sister. Do you understand?”
Taken aback, he stared at the woman in front of him. The Tara he remembered had been soothing, soft-spoken and amenable. He’d never seen this assertive, untamed side of her before. The spark in her eyes and the strength in her spine looked more like the woman he knew her to be—one who could profess her undying love for one man then sleep with his father as soon as that man was out of town.
“I’m sorry, Tara. I was out of line.”
Some of the starch seeped from her shoulders. She capped off her tirade by ducking her head and looking embarrassed. Her blush was so damned endearing and convincing, he almost wanted to circle the desk and hug her. And that wouldn’t do. He couldn’t fall for her trickery again.
“Completely out of line.” She turned and left, brushing past Mitch on his way in with a brisk, “Good morning, Mitch.”
“Hello, Tara.” His brother stared after her then shut the door. “Lover’s spat?”
“Explain that remark.”
“You’re shacking up with Tara.”
The gossip grapevine thrived at KCL, and this time it had broken speed records. This was only his third day as CEO.
Rand clamped a hand across the sudden snarl of tension at the base of his skull. If he was going to keep KCL employees and the public from losing trust in the company after the change in leadership, he needed credibility. As Tara had already pointed out, a cloud of suspicion hung over their unexplained departures five years ago. Sleeping with his PA wasn’t going to help matters. “Where did you hear it?”
“My PA picked it up in the cafeteria this morning.” Mitch folded his arms. “So you did leave with Tara.”
“No. I moved to California alone. But I am living in her home now.”
“Rekindling the old romance?”
“There is no romance.”
He considered telling Mitch about Tara’s ultimatum, but confessing he’d become a pawn in Tara’s game was as infuriating as it was frustrating. And arousing.
He hated that she’d backed him into a corner and turned him into her personal gigolo. Hated that, despite all he knew about her, she still had the power to make him want her. And he definitely hated the way his pulse had jackhammered and his blood had rushed below his belt the minute he’d heard her in the outer office this morning.
His sleep last night and his concentration this morning had been shot to hell because her breathy cries kept echoing through his head.
“Am I going to have to clean up after you the way I am after Dad?”
Mitch’s reminder of their father’s inability to be faithful to his wife or any other woman was exactly what Rand needed to hear to get his head back in gear. Even if Tara tried to sucker him into a long-term relationship, Rand didn’t have the stay ing power to make it last.
Like father, like son.
“How is it going with Dad’s little brat and his guardian? What was the tenacious aunt’s name again?” Rand asked.
“It’s going fine. Her name is Carly. But we’re talking about you.” Mitch lowered himself into one of the sleek leather visitor chairs stationed in front of Rand’s wide mahogany desk.
Tara had indeed worked miracles on this formerly sterile space. Besides the office paraphernalia he’d requested, she’d added plants, art that actually looked like something recognizable and a sofa long enough for him to stretch out on if he had to pull an all-nighter in the office. An oversize ottoman doubled as a coffee table and a foot stool. And the wooden cabinet/shelf combo against the wall concealed a refrigerator.
Rand tossed his pen on his desk. “I can handle my own affairs.”
“Why did you leave, Rand? The truth this time. No BS. And don’t deny Tara’s involvement. Your reaction to her name at the reading of the will and the tension between you when I walked in proves she was part of it.”
Rand debated redirecting the discussion to the résumés on his desk, but Mitch wore a familiar stubborn look on his face that said he wasn’t going to be diverted. His brother had a right to his questions, and he needed assurances that Rand wouldn’t let him down this time.
And as much as Rand hated revealing the truth, Mitch needed to keep a wary eye on Tara. If she was looking for a rich husband, Mitch was just as likely a target. His jab about Tara missing out on one of the Kincaid men had hit a little too close to the mark. The idea gave Rand heartburn.
“When I returned from auditing the Mediterranean line five years ago, I caught Tara leaving Dad’s suite.”
Mitch swore. “Not again.”
“Yes, again.” Tara hadn’t been the first of Rand’s lovers to end up in his father’s bed, but she had been the only one Rand had given a damn about.
Had Everett pursued Tara or had Tara done the chasing? Either was a betrayal, but which was the most egregious? Tara’s, Rand decided, because he expected no less from his father.
Rand stood and crossed to the windows to stare out at the blue-green water thirty stories below. “I was sick of his games, sick of him coveting everything and everyone I possessed. I didn’t want to put you or Nadia in the middle. So I left.”
“I was always in the middle, Rand, like a referee in a prize fight. But Tara was fair territory. You’d dumped her. Hell, I even considered asking her out. You have to admit she’s smart and easy on the eyes.”
Every muscle in Rand’s body clenched. He spun and faced his brother with his fists ready. The challenge on Mitch’s face dared him to argue. Rand couldn’t. The moment he’d ended his affair with Tara he’d lost whatever temporary claim he had on her. Having no ties to her had been his choice. And it had been the right decision—the only decision—given the Kincaid history with women.
So why had seeing her with his father sucker punched him? And why did the idea of Tara with Mitch make him want to hit something?
Because she’d claimed she loved you.
And for a split second that night in her bed five years ago when she’d been spinning her fairy tale, Rand had believed her, and he’d wanted the life she’d described. Until he’d remembered who he was. What he was. A bastard who let people down. Just like his old man. He’d remembered what loving Everett Kincaid had done to his mother, and what loving Rand had done to Serita. He’d known