He refused to allow her to dismiss him so easily. “You’re tired. Why don’t you let me take you out to dinner and we can talk about what kind of relationship we might have with one another. I would also like to hear your life plans.”
They were sweet words, but she refused to let him sway her. He was a smooth talker, able to get what he wanted simply by the overabundance of charm he conjured up at whim. “Why?” she asked, unable to stop the question from slipping out.
He moved closer to her, grabbing her hands when she tried to step backwards. “Because I find you fascinating,” he replied. “I would sincerely enjoy having your company for dinner tonight.”
Wyndi realized that she was too tired and too vulnerable to go head to head with a man like Tamar. She leaned her forehead against his chest, taking in a deep breath to try and find her resolve. But she was also too hungry. “Can we have pasta?” she asked in a grumpy voice. “With lots of cheese and garlic bread?”
He chuckled and moved closer, his arms wrapping around her gently. “Absolutely,” he replied.
She sighed and looked up at him. “I don’t really have any nice clothes,” she said with a low, embarrassed voice.
“Would you allow me to purchase you a dress?” he asked, looking down at her delicate neck, disappointed that she was wearing a bra tonight. He’d loved diving under her shirt last night and finding her full breasts free and inviting.
She laughed, shaking her head. “Not a chance,” she came right back. “We’ll just have to dine at a place that allows a more casual experience.”
He raised an eyebrow at her command, amused that she thought she would be getting her way. “Are you ready to go?” he asked.
She looked down at her dowdy jeans, rubbing her hands against her hips. “I can change into something slightly more presentable.” With that, she turned around and headed into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.
Tamar almost laughed at the closed door. He’d seen, touched and tasted every part of her body last night. There wasn’t a place he hadn’t explored but tonight, she needed to close the door to change clothes? Cute, he thought.
She emerged a moment later and he was stunned at the transformation. She’d jumped into the shower, but instead of a head of wet hair, she’d pulled her hair up on top of her head with little tendrils hanging down to frame her delicate features. But the biggest transformation was the pretty pink skirt and shirt. The clothes were still casual, but the jeans were gone. And he thought she looked lovely. He was also touched that she’d gone to the effort of dressing for him. She’d even put on makeup. Not much, just a touch of pink lipstick and mascara which made her blue eyes seem bigger, glowing almost.
“You look lovely,” he said, aware that his voice was a bit huskier as he extended his hand towards her.
She took the hand and he led her out of her apartment. She pulled back slightly when she saw the long, black limousine parked out front with the driver standing at attention by the back door. “What’s this?” she asked, suddenly anxious.
“Transportation?” he suggested, not sure what might be going through her lovely brain now.
“Can’t we just catch a cab?” she asked, trying to pull her hand out of his but he held hers firmly, not allowing her to pull away.
“I’m afraid that’s not an option,” he replied. “But I promise the vehicle is very safe.”
She sighed, irritated by this latest revelation about their worlds. “Tamar, we’re not…”
He bent down and kissed her, stopping whatever protest she was going to spout next. “Get in the car, Wyndi,” he told her firmly, tugging her hand to encourage her. “It won’t bite, it won’t crash and I haven’t changed from the man I was five minutes ago.”
She got into the car, but her mind was working feverishly, trying to figure out what he was up to. A man like him, with his obvious wealth, simply didn’t date women like her. She was poor, a waitress. She might have a college education, but only because the state paid for it. And because of the struggling economy, she hadn’t been able to find a real job. Well, that and her lack of experience.
Whereas Tamar was obviously an important person with loads of money at his disposal. What could he possibly see in her?
The restaurant they pulled up in front of was one of the finest in Manhattan. It took months to get a reservation here. “We can’t go in there,” she said, eyeing the doorman with trepidation.
He took her hand and tugged gently, his eyes smiling down at her. “Of course we can. We just step out of the car and move our feet forward. I do it all the time.”
She laughed at his teasing, but wouldn’t relent. “You know what I mean. We won’t be able to get a table here.”
Not only did they get a table as soon as Tamar walked in, they were immediately seated at one of the best tables in the restaurant. Unfortunately, the menu was all in Italian. Wyndi had taken Spanish in high school and French in college, but she was lost with the Italian. Tamar must have seen the worried look in her eyes because, when the waiter arrived, he ordered for her in perfect Italian. The waiter bowed down, taking both of their menus before backing up to place their order.
She looked at him with one eyebrow raised over her blue eyes. “What am I getting for dinner?” she asked.
He chuckled at her adorable, irritated expression. “Exactly what you requested. Pasta loaded with cheese and bread smothered with garlic butter.”
The sommelier arrived at that moment and presented a bottle of wine for Tamar’s approval, then poured it out for both of them, leaving it beside them before disappearing as well.
“Oh my,” she gasped when she took the first sip. “This is wonderful.”
He smiled at her over his wine glass. “I’m glad you can appreciate a good wine.”
She laughed, deciding to ignore all the reasons she shouldn’t be here and just enjoyed the ambiance and company. Tamar was a delightful dinner companion, able to discuss just about any subject with intelligence and humor. She found out that he worked for the Surisian government, was actually a member of the royal family and her heart sank in her chest. A prince, she thought despairingly. There was absolutely no way a prince and a waitress could have a future.
The pasta was everything he promised. The red sauce was rich and flavorful while the cheese was amazingly creamy with just a bit of a tartness to it that added so much flavor. There was a spicy sausage and tender mushrooms, all of which she devoured hungrily. She laughed as he told her stories, listened intently as he told her about his companies and she was surprised to find her telling him about her college experiences. She didn’t mention her parents’ deaths or the loss of her brother all those years ago, not wanting to ruin the night with sadness. Nor did she mention growing up in foster homes, raised by the state or her search for her brother. Those were secrets she hadn’t shared with anyone, finding it too painful.
When he helped her into the car after the amazing meal, she felt awkward and uncomfortable, but also determined to not fall into bed with him again. “Come with me,” he commanded, raising her hand to his lips.
She was expecting just a simple kiss on her fingers, but he turned the touch into a seductive caress, his mouth capturing one of her fingers and nipping the end. She gasped as her whole body lit up with the fire that was suddenly burning in her belly. “No,” she whispered, trying to pull her hands away. “Thank you for dinner, Tamar, but I can’t see you anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re a prince. And I’m a waitress.”
“Those are titles, not who we are inside.”
Her smile was a bit wobbly. “We can’t run away from our responsibilities. And I have many that are very important to me.”
He was intrigued. “Tell me.”
The car was driving along, the lights of the city moving past them at a rapid rate. “They’re private.”
“Tell me,” he repeated.
She laughed at his stubbornness. “No.”
He chuckled as well, delighted that she wasn’t trying to manipulate him in some way. Women generally tried to get as much out of him monetarily as they could before he moved on to the next woman but this lovely lady was actually rejecting him for his wealth and position. He’d been insanely attracted to her before, but knowing this about her only lured him in more. “Why not?”
“Because they’re private,” she explained again. “They’re something I have to do.”
“And you won’t accept any help from anyone?”
She smiled sadly. “There’s nothing you can do to help. This is a personal issue.”
They’d arrived at her building by that point and she stepped out, prepared to say goodbye to him but he was already stepping out of the limousine. “I can see my way up to my place,” she said nervously.
Tamar smiled slightly, fully aware of what she was trying to do but he wasn’t going to allow it. “I’ll see you up,” he told her firmly, putting a hand to the small of her back and leading her up the stairs.
At her door, she nervously fumbled with the keys, trying to figure out how to keep him from entering her apartment. She knew if he took her into his arms, she wouldn’t be able to tell him no. Even with him standing behind her, she could feel the heat of his body against her back. She wanted to turn around and feel his arms wrap around her, to experience that same magic from the previous night, but she was also afraid. She was scared of what he was making her feel. There was more than just the sex. She’d laughed with him tonight. He’d been kind and generous. She’d discovered that he was interesting and intelligent and charming. She liked him! And that scared her even more than just this crazy attraction she had for him. She didn’t want to like him. There was no future for the two of them so she needed to push him away, keep him at a distance.
“Open the door, Wyndi,” he said, his hands moving down to her hips, pulling her back against his chest. His mouth moved down to nuzzle her neck and she shivered.
“You can’t come inside,” she said, but her head was bending backwards as his lips nuzzled her ear.
“You wouldn’t come to my place,” he told her. “So I’m coming inside. You don’t really want me to leave.”
He was right. She wanted him. There was no doubt about it. But was that really what was best for her? For both of them? There was no future together. They were bound to hurt each other.
“It won’t work.”
“It will if you’ll just open the door,” he said, but he didn’t wait for her to comply, taking the keys out of her hands and opening the door himself. He pushed the door open and pulled her inside himself. There, he took her into his arms and that was the end of her refusal. She was lost to his touch, his heat and all she could do was follow him as he led her into her bedroom and heaven when he took her into his arms.
Tamar glared at his cell phone with irritation. This was the second morning in a row that he’d been called before dawn and he was getting sick of it. He moved carefully, not wanting to disturb Wyndi. She was sleeping so soundly, her head resting against his shoulder, right where he wanted her. Well, to be perfectly honest, he wanted her in the apartment he kept on hand for his ladies. There was a very large, very comfortable bed where his feet didn’t extend off the end, and it was a hell of a lot more comfortable.
He picked up his phone and looked at the caller, then sighed, knowing he had to take the call. “What?” he demanded with irritation. He listened, his attention captured by what he was hearing. “Okay. Yes, there’s a computer here. I think I can take a look,” he told the caller.
He stood up and walked out to Wyndi’s laptop which he’d seen on the side of her sofa at some earlier point. Opening it up, he pressed several buttons which allowed him to circumvent her login screen. “Okay, send it to me,” he told the person at the other end. He waited several seconds and then the file was sent to his e-mail. He entered a code and all of the information was displayed. Running his own program, he was finally able to read the encrypted file. With that new information, he felt a keen sense of satisfaction, knowing he was that much closer to finding the culprit who was systematically breaking into his company files and Surisia’s government files. He thought quickly, his fingers flying over the keyboard. “Okay, try this,” he said and gave his IT lead additional instructions.
With that, he logged out of his e-mail and took her computer back to her own screens. But as soon as he was out, he looked at her files. He hadn’t meant to look, but something caught his eye. The symbol in the background…it was the same signature as the hacker!
He ran several more programs, code that he’d developed to try and track down the culprit and…damn! He almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The screen showed him the evidence, but he still had to stare at the information, taking it all in. And even then, he wanted to shake his head and deny the possibility. It couldn’t be!
Looking into the bedroom, he stared at the innocent looking woman curled up on the bed amid the tangled sheets. The hacker was Wyndi? How was that possible?
He called his head of security, telling him to get more information on Wyndi Charmichael, determined to find out if she really was the woman he was starting to suspect she was or if she was someone else. He couldn’t believe the evidence that was staring him in the face. He did several more searches and, sure enough, all the coding that he’d been tracking was right there, in her laptop. He also realized that she’d set up automated runs to delve into several more company databases. Not all his companies, but some were his, others were smaller companies that he knew of but didn’t really care about. He supposed he should be relieved that she wasn’t targeting just his companies but had spread her illegal activities over several corporations.
A fierce anger settled over him and he clicked a few more keys. As he leaned back against the rough cushions of her sofa, analytically he had to admit that she was very good. Her code was creative and well thought out. If he hadn’t had an anti-cyber threat team on top of his digital infrastructure, he probably wouldn’t have known that she’d gotten in and out so quickly.
What the hell was she doing with the information? He searched around in a few more files, not concerned in the least with invading her privacy, but he couldn’t come up with any information that would tell him what she was doing with the data. If she was smart, she was storing her illicitly obtained information off-site or selling it immediately. Either way, he wasn’t going to let her get away with her theft.
But he needed to know who she sold the information to. His companies might be vulnerable, as could Surisia and that he simply couldn’t allow. It wasn’t just his responsibility to protect his country and see to her best interests, it was his passion. He wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt his homeland, even if the person in question had the softest breasts, the most amazing smile or the cutest derriere he’d ever seen.
He stepped into her tiny shower, even furious that she hadn’t allowed him to take her out of this pit and set her up in his apartment where she would be in the lap of luxury. He was a generous lover and she would know that if she weren’t so stubborn.
Which brought something else to mind. If she was selling corporate information to his competitors or Surisia’s enemies, what was she doing with the money? She certainly wasn’t spending it on her wardrobe or her home.
It didn’t matter. He’d find out all of her secrets, get a list of everyone she’d sold the information to and then he would turn her over to the authorities.
When he was once again dressed, he looked down at the sleeping beauty, stunned by how quickly his body reacted to just the sight of her.
He gritted his teeth, furious with himself for being so weak. He glared at Wyndi, seething that she had so much power over him. He’d been lured into her trap and he’d willingly, desperately sought her out as if she were the key to his breathing yesterday.
Not anymore, he promised himself silently, stuffing her clothes into a bag. Today, he would ensure that he had the control. Yes, he thought, thinking of her lovely, delicate wrists tied above her head so that he could do anything he wanted to her lovely, sexy body. The idea of her being at his mercy, of controlling her and regaining a sense of himself in the process, was a heady thought.
Bending low, he lifted her into his arms. A gentleman would wake her and tell her what he was going to do, but he didn’t feel very gentlemanly at the moment. In fact, he felt decidedly cave-man like. He nodded to his driver who jumped up and opened the door for him. Tamar didn’t even hesitate as he stepped into the vehicle, handing the bag containing a pair of jeans and tee shirt to his driver which would be stored in the trunk.
A moment after the door closed, they glided away from the curb, off to the airport. Wyndi didn’t even stir as he held her in his arms. He should push her off and let her sleep on the seat, but something inside of him wouldn’t do that to her. He told himself it was only because he didn’t want her to wake up before they were in the air. It would simply be easier for everyone, herself included, if she slept through the whole departure process.
When they arrived at the airport, the car pulling up right to the bottom of the stairs to his private plane, he was surprised, but relieved, that she was still asleep. She must have been exhausted, he thought but then pushed the guilt away. She was his prisoner, he told himself. Compassion for the lawless would not be allowed.