Wedding Vow of Revenge

She’d made a decision not to be hampered by her past in every judgment she made. That meant continuing to believe in the tycoon she missed more than she wanted to.

At least until he proved himself unworthy of her trust.

Wanting to get one issue of trustworthiness resolved, she tried to call Danette, but got her friend’s home voice mail instead and was forced to leave a message.

The phone rang the next morning and woke her out of a fitful sleep. She’d spent too many dark hours thinking about her best friend and the man who wanted to marry her.

Hoping it was Danette, she grabbed it. “Hello?”

“Tara?”

The voice was familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it.

“Yes?” Her voice came out scratchy and she cleared her throat.

“I need to see you, darling.”

“Who is this?” she demanded, her sleep fuddled mind sure of one thing.

The voice at the other end of the line was not one of the two men in her life with a right to call her by endearments: Angelo and her stepfather, Darren.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the sound of my voice. I haven’t forgotten anything about you, Tara. I never could. Not the sweet way you smell, or the taste of your lips—”

“I am not in any mood for obscene phone calls,” she inserted with speed, recognition finally enlightening her rapidly wakening mind.

Baron’s laugh was seductive and low, like he thought she was flirting with him. “How about a visit? Would you prefer I say these things in person?”

“No! Are you in Portland?” she asked, worried that might be the case and wondering how he’d gotten her number.

“Not yet, but I can be. We need to talk.”

“We finished talking two years ago.”

“Tara, I’m divorcing my wife.”

“How fortunate for her,” she quipped, unable to help herself. Did he really think she cared?

“I understand your bitterness, darling. I made a terrible mistake two years ago. I want to make it right.”

“You don’t know the meaning of making things right. You did me one favor two years ago, Baron. You walked away. I’m not about to let you undo possibly the only good deed of your life. You’re a user. You suck other people dry and smile while you’re doing it.”

She had no idea how she’d ever loved this man, but after one week in Angelo’s company, the difference between the two types of tycoons was crystal clear to her.

“I don’t want you in my life. I don’t want you calling me and I swear that if you show up in Portland stalking me, I’ll go to the authorities for a restraining order.”

“Tara, you’re angry, but you don’t understand—”

“You’re wrong,” she interrupted again, not wanting to hear a single line of his con story. He’d deceived her before with that tone and his too believable excuses, but never again.

“I’m not angry. I’m disgusted you could think for one second I would want to hear from you again after the way you used me and then threw me to the wolves in the press with a steak tied around my ankle.”

“I can explain that.”

“No. You cannot.” She exhaled a frustrated breath. “Leave me alone, Baron, or this time I’ll be the one giving sympathy producing interviews to the press.”

He made a harsh sound. “Tara, you can’t trust Angelo Gordon.”

So, he’d read the tabloid stories? That was one more thing Ray-the-rat had to answer for. “My private life is none of your business.”

“I used to be your private life.”

What colossal nerve. “That was a long time ago and it is certainly not true any longer. Goodbye, Baron.”

She hung up.

The phone rang five minutes later and when the number only came up as out of area on her caller ID, she ignored it.

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHECKING her voice mail after her shower, Tara ground her teeth in vexation when she realized the second call had been from Angelo. But his message gave her her first smile in over thirty-six hours.

He was headed back to Portland and would arrive later that evening. He said nothing about the gossip stories, but he did apologize for not calling when he’d been unable to fly out the day before.

She listened to the message three times just to hear his voice and then erased it with a jab of a button, irritated with her lame, sappy behavior.

The phone rang again, this time a local newspaper name showed up on the caller ID and she let it go to voice mail again. The rest of the day, the phone rang off the hook and the two times she made the mistake of answering it, a reporter was on the other end of the line.