TamingTara

Chapter Nine

Tara spent the weekend shifting back and forth from heated arousal to scorching mortification. How could she have let Joe do that to her?

She’d known he might be there, but had gone anyway, thinking stupidly that she could avoid him. Resist him. Dammit.

She didn’t even go in to the office, which she usually did on weekends, in case he was there. She was so edgy, she actually sought out Sasha to talk to her.

Her sister was sitting in the den, flipping through a magazine, drinking a martini.

Tara eyed the nearly empty glass. “Drinking again?”

Sasha looked up and frowned. “Would you get off my back about the drinking?”

“Why are you drinking so much, Sasha?”

“I’m not!”

Whatever. Tara sighed and sat on the couch beside her. She picked up a thick Vogue magazine and flipped through glossy pages.

“Anything nice in here?” she murmured, knowing her sister would have picked out several outfits.

Sasha shrugged. “Not really.”

Tara lifted her head. “What’s wrong?”

“What makes you think something’s wrong?”

Sasha wasn’t her usual cheerful self. She wasn’t interested in the clothes in the fashion magazines. She’d gone out with Baxter—Baxter the Bastard, as Tara called him in her head—when they’d supposedly broken up weeks ago. And she was drinking herself into a haze pretty much every night. But they didn’t exactly have a close relationship where they talked about stuff.

Grandpa walked in just then.

“Hello, girls.”

“Hi, Grandpa.” Sasha smiled up at him.

“Next weekend is the Santa Barbara Wildlife Federation party at the country club,” he said as he walked over to the bar. He smiled at Sasha as he poured himself a glass of Scotch. “Have you got something pretty to wear?”

“Of course!” Sasha fluttered her lashes at him. “I got a beautiful dress a couple of weeks ago when I was in New York.”

“Perfect. You always know how to impress everyone.”

Tara looked down at her hands. She wasn’t even going to the party and she certainly wasn’t going to impress anybody. Not her kind of thing at all—she’d been to too many where she’d just felt excluded, like she didn’t fit in. Nobody wanted to talk about olives. Some men liked talking business, but then their wives got annoyed and…it never was much fun.

She left Sasha and Grandpa talking about who was going to be at the party and went back to her room to wrestle with dark, heated memories of Joe flogging her to a peak of orgasmic ecstasy.

“So what are we up to today?” Joe asked with a grin as he walked into Tara’s office Monday morning. She sat there behind her desk, hands clenched into fists already, eyes sparking, mouth tight. Satisfaction at her reaction to him surged inside him. He’d gotten to her. And she hated it.

Of course, he also had to deal with his reaction to her. Had spent the whole weekend trying to deal with it.

She wasn’t going to give in without a fight and he didn’t want to break her—just wanted her to see inside herself. And his ulterior motive suddenly seemed less important than helping her learn that about herself and the enjoyment they could both have in doing so.

“You’re scheduled for more time with Fiona.” She turned and met his eyes and he could see the quivering uncertainty she was trying to hide. Then her eyes widened. “Oh my God! What happened to you?”

He touched his eye. He’d forgotten about the shiner. “Oh yeah. I was playing basketball.” He wasn’t going to tell her he’d been so distracted thinking about her that he’d run into an elbow.

“Jesus. Are you okay?”

He shrugged. “Just a black eye. No big deal.”

She blinked. “Um. Okay. Well…we should talk.”

“Okay.” He propped one hip on the corner of her desk. Waited.

She pressed her lips together. “What happened at the club…it doesn’t change anything here.”

“What would it change?”

Her cheeks heated and she floundered for words. “I don’t know. But I just wanted to…I still don’t want you here.”

“What are you so afraid of, Tara?”

She stared at him and her cheeks flushed. “I’m not afraid of anything. Why would I be afraid?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I asked.” He leaned closer so he could smell her flowery fragrance. He inhaled it slowly, bringing back memories of when he’d held her in his arms at Le Château and breathed in that heady jasmine and magnolia scent. “You’re afraid of me, aren’t you?”

“Of course not! That’s ridiculous.”

“I don’t think so. I just can’t figure out why. Do you think I’m going to take your job away from you?”

She shook her head violently. “Don’t be ridiculous.” But her reaction told him what he needed to know.

“I’m not trying to take anything away from you, Tara.”

She stared up at him. “You’re crazy,” she said. “You can’t take this away from me.”

“I don’t want to take anything away from you,” he repeated.

“Fine, then there’s no problem.”

“What else are you afraid of?”

She pressed her lips together. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know, when you enter the BDSM lifestyle, it’s not unusual to not know what you want.”

“I know what I want! And I’m not in that lifestyle!”

“Tara. Whether you’re dominant or submissive, the first, most important thing you have to learn is honesty. First of all honesty with yourself.”

She jumped to her feet, shoving her chair back, hands clenched in fists. “I do not want to talk about this! I told you, that didn’t change anything.”

“You may learn you want to dominate,” he continued, standing too so he blocked her escape from behind her desk. A pulse leaped in her throat and her breathing quickened. “You may learn you want to submit.” Her eyes flickered. He smiled. “Maybe you’ll learn you like both and you’ll want to switch. But that’s what it’s all about. Learning about ourselves. I’m still learning too.”

She stared at him, saying nothing. “I won’t learn I want to submit,” she finally said, looking down.

“Just so long as you’re honest,” he repeated. “You have to have an open mind, and be honest with yourself. Just think about that.”

He turned and left her office to find Fiona.

Joe loved the money part of business. It had been a tough decision whether to major in finance or operations, so he’d taken a lot of finance courses. In his last job he’d had responsibility for budgeting and planning, so he enjoyed working with Fiona. But accelerated depreciation and capitalized costs weren’t enough to keep his mind off Tara and her delicious uncertainty.

Joe wasn’t one of those people who hated to admit to mistakes. If he screwed up, he screwed up; he learned from it and moved on. But he couldn’t quite get himself to think that giving Tara that super-nova orgasm had been a mistake.

Although the fact they had to work together added a certain layer of complication to the whole thing.

On the other hand, he wanted to tame her, both in the office and out of it. Now that he knew what she was really about, his techniques would be the same, but the tools would be different. In the office he couldn’t pick up a flogger or tie her to her chair. But there were other ways. She was such a sharp-tongued, shrewish witch, she definitely needed to be gentled. Not broken. He would never want to break that strength, that intelligence. But he could soften it…and he could make her like it. He knew it.

Tara sank down into her chair again, all warm and shaky.

She was afraid. He was smart and experienced and charming and he was taking over the business that was her entire life. It was all she had. She had to be strong and in control to hold on to it. If she gave in to him, she’d lose everything.

He was also goddamn annoying—arrogant, confident, domineering.

Even if he said he didn’t want to take anything away from her, even if he truly had no intention of trying to take over this company, it could still happen because that’s what Grandpa wanted. So she had to stay in control—always.

But she was afraid of Joe and the things he was challenging her to do—and not just business.

Just after lunch, Juan called to tell her that there’d been an accident at the ranch. One of the laborers had fallen off a ladder and appeared to have broken his leg. They were taking him to the hospital in Santa Barbara.

Shit. She rubbed the tightness between her eyebrows, hoping the guy was okay. She had a meeting scheduled with a supplier that afternoon that she couldn’t change, but as soon as she was done she headed to the hospital.

Javier was in a room, leg casted, looking pale, but okay. His young wife was beside him, holding a baby on her hip.

Tara introduced herself. “I’m so sorry this happened,” she told Javier. “Of course we’ll cover your medical bills, so don’t worry about that.”

“Joe already told me that,” Javier said.

Tara froze. A frown tightened her forehead. “Joe was already here?”

“Yeah. He just left. He wanted to make sure I was okay. And he told me as soon as I can move around they’ll find something for me to do at the ranch. Whatever I can do. He’s a great guy.”

She gave him a tight smile. “Yes. He is.”

“And you all are great to work for, I gotta say.”

His wife smiled back at her as she bounced the baby. “Yes. Thank you.”

Tara forced a smile. “You’re very welcome. I’m just glad you’re going to be okay.”

After the fundraising committee meeting Friday morning, Sasha lingered at the Youth Action Center. It wasn’t because of Nick. Not at all. He’d been all business, professional and courteous during the meeting. They were planning the annual fundraising gala to be held at the Four Seasons Hotel. Just the kind of thing Sasha loved to plan and she’d put forth some great ideas if she did say so herself, but she’d found herself distracted by Nick’s gorgeous eyes and appealing smile.

Why had he turned her down? It didn’t make sense. Guys fell over themselves to be with her.

But she didn’t hang around because of him.

She wandered into the kitchen just as lunch was being served. Her eyes roved around the room, but no Nick.

“Hi,” said one little girl, her silky dark hair in a ponytail, her brown eyes big and watchful. “Who’re you?”

“I’m Sasha. Who are you?”

“Julia.”

“What are you having for lunch?” Sasha asked.

“Sandwiches. Are you having lunch?”

“Um, no. Not here.”

“You can have this.” Julia pushed a sandwich toward her. “It’s tuna. I hate tuna.”

Sasha smiled. “Do you?”

“It stinks.”

Sasha laughed. “So Julia, how old are you?”

“I’m ten. How old are you?”

Sasha was amused at the little girl’s directness. “Twenty-six.”

“My mom is twenty-five,” she said.

Sasha’s eyes widened. Whoa. “Your mom is twenty-five?” she repeated.

Julia nodded. “Yup.” She took a bite of her sandwich.

Sasha picked up the tuna sandwich, frowned at it, then took a bite too. “What about your dad?”

“I don’t have a dad,” Julia said matter-of-factly. “Just a mom. She goes to school and works a lot, so I come here.”

“Oh. That’s good she’s going to school.”

“Yup. She says when she finishes school she’ll be able to just work one job and she and I can spend more time together.”

“How many jobs does she have?”

“Um…right now, just two. She works as a waitress at two different places, one at night and one in the day. Before, she was also working at an office building, cleaning at night.”

“Who stays with you at night?” Sasha asked, lowering her sandwich from her mouth.

“Nobody.” Julia shrugged her small, thin shoulders. “I go to bed by myself and my mom is there when I wake up. Then she brings me here and goes to her other job or to school.”

Sasha swallowed. A girl her own age was raising a daughter, going to school and working three—three!—jobs to support them. A little ache of sympathy tightened her stomach.

“Well, it’s good you’re so grown up and you can help your mom,” she said, her throat tight. She smiled at Julia.

Julia was looking at Sasha’s hands. “Your nails are pretty.”

“Thanks.”

“Some day I want to have nails like that.”

“You will, if you want. So what are you going to do this afternoon?”

“I’m going to do art.” Julia’s face lit up. “This afternoon we’re going to do some stuff with beads.”

“Ooh,” Sasha said. Beads. She loved jewelry design. She’d done some jewelry design courses in art college. “That sounds fun. Maybe I’ll come see what you’re doing.”

“Okay,” Julia agreed. “Maybe you can make something too.”

“I’d love that.”

So she did. After lunch, the leaders organized the kids into different groups and took them off to various parts of the building. Some went outside, some went to the library, some to the gym in the basement. Sasha followed the jewelry making group upstairs.

She introduced herself to the leaders and sat down at one of the tables. They gave her a kind of funny look, glanced at each other, then shrugged.

They had some pretty nice beads to work with, but not much choice of findings.

“I don’t know what to make,” one girl said. She sat there, overwhelmed by all the choices.

Sasha poked through the findings and found two ear wires. “How about a pair of earrings?”

“That’s too hard.”

“What’s your name, sweetie? I’ll show you how.”

“Emily.”

“Hi, Emily. I’ll do one and you copy me with the other. What colors do you like?”

They picked out some pretty blue and green beads. “These crystals would look nice too,” Sasha suggested. In no time they had a pair of sparkly drop earrings. “Are your ears pierced?” She checked Emily’s ears and they were, but she had no earrings. “Do you want to wear them?”

Emily nodded and Sasha carefully helped her put them in. Emily shook her head, her eyes shining. “I want to see them!” She jumped up and ran to a mirror on the counter and inspected her new earrings, turning her head one way, then the other.

“I want earrings like those!” Julia said. “Sasha, help me, help me!”

A circle of little girls formed around Sasha as she began helping the others, picking out beads and colors. Julia was surprisingly creative, choosing an unusual combination of glass beads that was actually quite stunning.

The girls were all modeling their creations, pushing each other away from the mirror and giggling, when Nick walked into the room.

He frowned at Sasha, sitting on a small chair at a low table. “What are you doing here?”

She smiled at him. “I love jewelry design. When I heard they were going to be doing some this afternoon, I decided to hang around.”

“That’s not necessary,” he said, folding his arms across his wide chest. “As a member of the fundraising committee, you’re not obligated to do this.”

“I know that.” She kept her smile firmly in place. “I just wanted to.”

“Nothing else to do?”

She blinked. Was that a jab? “Uh. Well, I had a free afternoon.”

Hell, most of her afternoons were free. Her charity work and decorating the house only took so much time.

“I’m sure you did. Well, thanks.” And he turned and stalked out of the room, shoulders rigid as if he was pissed off she was there. Not exactly what she’d been hoping for. She sighed.