Wedding Vow of Revenge

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“All right.”

“You have a date with the boss?” Danette demanded the minute Tara hung up the phone.

“Yes.”

Danette’s whistle echoed the shock reverberating through her own brain.

She was still reeling from her decision to actually go on a date with Angelo when she dressed for the evening.

Unlike their business dinner, she had no desire to dress in a way that downplayed her femininity tonight. Pulling a garment she hadn’t worn in a very long time from the back of her closet, she smiled. The quintessential little black dress, its spaghetti straps and skirt that hit her midthigh were elegant and sexy despite the simplicity of the dress’s design.

She brushed her hair into curling waves that reached the middle of her back, slipped on a pair of black stiletto sandals and stood to look in the mirror. Oh gosh, she’d forgotten the way it looked. The way she could look.

Had it always been this sensual? Half of her body was on display and the neckline showed a lot more cleavage than she remembered.

Even without makeup, the woman staring back at her appeared ready for a very hot date and she wasn’t sure that was the image she wanted to provide. Angelo didn’t need a whole lot of encouragement in this area. She was reaching for the zipper on the back of the dress when the doorbell rang.

He was early.

She looked longingly at the less revealing dresses hanging in her closet and started to jerk the zipper down when the doorbell rang again. She pulled the zipper back up and after giving her reflection one last despairing glance, she headed for the door.

When she opened it, she almost fell backward from the intense appreciation in his gaze. He looked like he wanted to eat her alive. Zings of forbidden pleasure arced through her at the thought.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to ignore the incredible reaction of her body to his presence. “Hi.”

“Hello.” He looked her up and down, his fiery gaze touching her with tactile force and leaving goosebumps in unimaginable places in its wake. “I like the way you look.”

“Thank you.”

He’d changed from a business suit to a v-necked, lightweight, black sweater that molded his muscular chest and charcoal gray slacks that emphasized the sheer masculine perfection of his form. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

His smile was more like a wicked invitation to sin. He put his hand out. “Ready to go?”

“I don’t have any makeup on yet.” Not that she normally wore it, but this was a date.

Not counting yesterday, which had not been official…it was her first one in two years.

“You don’t need it.”

She cocked her head to the side and studied him like he was an alien species. Sometimes, like now, it felt like he was. He certainly didn’t fit the mold of the other males she’d known. “Most men want their dates to be as gorgeous as possible.”

“You aren’t an ornament on my arm. You look beautiful to me and that is all that should matter.”

“Thank you.”

“Besides, makeup cannot improve on perfection.” It was a corny line, but he said it was such offhand seriousness; she couldn’t dismiss it as mere flattery.

“Wow…you know just the right thing to say.”

“The truth often comes out that way.”

“But not always. Sometimes the truth hurts.” She didn’t know why she said it, maybe as a reminder to herself.

His mouth set in a grim line. “You’re right, but I still prefer it over dishonesty.”

“Me, too.” A sudden urge made her blurt out. “Promise you’ll always tell me the truth.”

He stared at her as if testing her motive for the request, but then he nodded. “I won’t ever lie to you.”

“I’ll never lie to you either.” She said it quietly, fervently and he received it without comment.

Taking her arm, he tugged her out the door. “Now that we’ve established that, let’s go eat dinner.”

She laughed, a feeling of buoyant happiness bubbling through her. Unless he was the best actor on the planet, he’d meant his vow of honesty and she knew she had. No matter how odd the pact might seem to others, it gave her a sense of peace and a spark of hope for their future.

They were in Washington Park before she thought to ask where he was taking her for dinner.

“We’re almost there.”

To her knowledge, there was no restaurant near where they were, unless you counted the concession stands in the Rose Garden. Which seemed to be where they were headed, but she couldn’t imagine he was taking her there.