Sweet Revenge

Why don’t they just bow down and kiss his feet? A smirk crossed Madeline’s lips at the exact moment the crowd parted. He looked her way. When their eyes connected, a jolt of electricity vibrated along her spine. The surprise heated her face, but she refused to be the first to turn away.

His stare slowly encompassed her whole body, leaving a trail of heat that curled her toes. She heard his chuckle from across the room, maybe not in sound, but to the bottom of her soul.

Mouth dry, she grabbed a glass of wine from a passing waiter, then held it up, and saluted him. The cool crisp liquid wet her throat. He started across the room in her direction.

Move, her brain screamed, but her feet refused to respond. Her heart pounded in her ears as he stalked toward her. His deep blue eyes and sensuous mouth triggered a forgotten need, and sparks flickered deep inside her.

“I thought this was just going to be another boring charity ball.” His husky voice slid along her heightened nerves. “I’m Trace Harwood.”

She took a deep breath to recover her composure. “I’ve heard your name. It’s frequently mentioned in our local papers, Mr. Harwood.”

“Call me Trace. And you are?”

“Madeline Knight,” she said, using her maiden name. She didn’t want him to know her involvement in Roush computers, at least not yet.

“Dance with me.” He held out his hand.

Glancing toward the front, she saw couples beginning to fill the dance floor as the band played a soft, slow melody. She handed her glass to a passing waiter. Aware people were watching them and not wanting to create a scene, she agreed.

He grasped her hand and cleared the way to the front. Pulling her close, he led them into the dance. Every sensitive nerve in her body reacted to his nearness.

The music, swirling gowns and his seductive male fragrance combined to create a magical moment. The desire to rest her head against his shoulder, close her eyes and forget she was dancing with the enemy almost overwhelmed her.

He was the first man in a long time to tweak her interest. But also, the very one she had to shore up her defenses against. Trace Harwood, the man her brother and his friends disliked and distrusted. The one, Patrick warned her, who wanted control of Roush Computers. She lifted her head to find him staring at her.

“You’re very quiet, Madeline.” Her name on his lips came out with a soft lilt.

“I enjoy listening to the music. You dance very well, Mr. Harwood.”

“My mother considered dancing a necessity for a gentleman.” His lips curved into a soft smile. “I’ve found her right about most things.”

“Is she pleased with your success in the business world? Some of my acquaintances say you’re brilliant and dynamic.”

“I gather from your tone that you don’t agree?”

Her hands pushed against his chest to create space between them. Her rebellious body made thinking difficult.

“No. I don’t like your tactics.” The words came out harsh.

“Really? You call them tactics. I call them smart business strategies.”

“Right,” she scoffed.

She hadn’t meant to confront him, not yet, not tonight, but she’d wanted to spar with someone all day. Ever since she’d returned from her home outside Houston and discovered her business was under attack. This man was the opponent. She didn’t have to be nice.

His arm tightened around her. “Are you picking a fight with me, Madeline?” His eyes darkened. “And, if so, why?”

He swung her off the dance floor and, securing her arm in his, forged a path to the French doors to lead her outside. She yanked her arm out of his grip at the door, but with her curiosity aroused, she decided to go with him.

Wind rustled through the palms and hibiscus bushes. Soft light reflected across the pool. His firm hand at her back guided her away from the crowd. The deepening shadows sent a shiver across her shoulders.

“I must warn you. I’m trained in karate.”

His sudden burst of laughter startled her. The first real smile crossed his face, mesmerizing her.

“You won’t need to defend yourself tonight. Although,” he drew the words out slowly, “I’m not making promises about the future.”

“I’ve heard all about you, Mr. Harwood.”

“That I attack defenseless women?” He looked puzzled.

“No. The gossip is you attack vulnerable businesses and gobble them up.” Her bravery or foolishness surprised her, but she enjoyed bantering with him.

“I’m guilty. Men who leave their valuables unguarded should expect the wolf to snatch them away.” His mouth curved in a wry smile. “That goes for their women, too, but I always give fair warning.”

“And do the ladies run like sheep back to the herd?” She tilted her head at him, realizing she played with fire.

He leaned toward her and cupped her face in his hands. “Some.” He ran his finger across her lower lip. “But, occasionally one stays and faces the wolf.”

“And does he devour her?” she whispered.

“In only the best way.” His breath blew across her face before his lips covered hers. His tongue slipped inside her mouth, and he pulled her hard against his long frame. Without conscious thought, her arms went around his neck and brushed against his silky hair.

His hot, demanding mouth and the feel of his hard arousal caused a tremor of desire to flow through her. Her legs weakened, and she clung to him even tighter.

Her rational brain told her she was making a big mistake. But he was so tempting. Reluctantly, she made herself push against his chest.

His hands dropped to his side, as he stepped back. Midnight blue eyes revealed his amusement. Madeline’s face flushed, her anger directed at herself for practically falling into his arms. Just like all the other women that had crowded around him earlier.  

“Something to remember about me, Miss Knight, is you were right. I don’t work or play by half measures. And,” he said stepping into her space again, “I want you.”