Hot on Her Heels. Susan Mallery

to win?”

      “You really want me to answer that?”

      He didn’t have to. She knew. She could feel it. Garth would do anything to settle the score. Lethal and ruthless—a dangerous combination.

      “I’m surprised all this talk doesn’t scare off your women,” she said. “Or do they like this side of you?”

      “They don’t see it.”

      “Because they can’t handle it? But it’s who you are.” She picked up her wineglass. “Is that the trick? Don’t let them inside?”

      “Do your conquests see the real you?”

      “We weren’t talking about me.”

      “We are now.”

      His gaze was predatory, his expression knowing. She shivered, then did her best to conceal it by shifting in her seat. She knew she could hold her own with him, as long as he didn’t touch her.

      Something happened when she had felt his skin on hers, even through a protective layer of clothes. She didn’t like it and couldn’t explain it. Therefore the only logical solution was to avoid it. Not that Garth was begging for a little one-on-one time. But caution was always smart.

      The CD ended. He got up and walked over to the player concealed in the buffet. He moved stiffly, as if his leg bothered him.

      “Are you all right?” she asked before she could stop herself.

      “Old war wound,” he said, putting in another CD.

      Not exactly. She remembered the scars she’d seen and that both his legs had been broken while he’d been held hostage all those months.

      “Did you have to have surgery on your legs after you and Nick escaped?”

      “Some. The breaks had started to heal badly, so they re-broke my legs and set them.”

      “What did they do for the knife wounds?”

      “Treated the ones that were infected and left the others alone to heal.”

      “A big price to pay for oil.”

      “Nick would tell you it was the price we paid for being wrong.” He returned to the table and sat across from her. “Did Izzy tell you what happened?”

      “Some,” she said. Izzy had told her pretty much everything but she wanted to hear Garth tell the story.

      “We knew there was oil in the jungle, but it was nearly impossible to extract. That’s always the bitch of it. People think it’s hard to find, but it’s a whole lot harder to get it out of the ground. Nick had some ideas on new ways we could drill.”

      “Did it involve raping and pillaging?”

      Garth grinned. “Not my style. I prefer a nice, quiet seduction.”

      Her throat seemed to close in a little. “Back to the story, please.”

      “You’re the one who changed the subject.”

      “I won’t do it again.”

      For a second, she thought he might continue to challenge her. Instead he started talking.

      “The land was owned by a guy named Francisco. He was the head of the village and while he told his people and family he would never negotiate with us, he really wanted the money. He had a fair idea of the value and pushed for every penny. Local legend said not to take the oil, but Francisco dismissed that as bull and cashed the check. We started work. A few weeks later, we realized we were poisoning the water. By then it was too late—three people had died.”

      “Does that bother you?” she asked. Izzy had said Nick had been emotionally devastated by what had happened and blamed himself. Did Garth?

      “I didn’t set out to kill them, if that’s what you mean. I’m sorry it happened. We made an honest mistake. Knowing what I know now…” he hesitated “…it would be different, but life isn’t that tidy. We don’t get a do-over.”

      “Do you want a do-over with Nick?”

      His gaze sharpened. “The question of the day.”

      Garth had used his best friend to get to Izzy. Nick hadn’t known what was going on and when he figured out he was being played, he had been furious.

      “You have to have regrets,” she said. “Nick was your best friend.”

      “I made a tactical error.”

      “Stop being such a guy,” she snapped. “It wasn’t an error. You set up Nick to hurt Izzy. Then you completely miscalculated the fact that they were falling in love with each other. You expected Nick to side with you instead of Izzy and when he didn’t, you got angry. You lost a friend. A good friend.”

      “You don’t need me here to have this conversation,” he told her. “You’re doing fine all on your own.”

      “More guy-speak. You lost Nick and now you’re sorry. Was it worth it?”

      “What do you think?”

      His expression was unreadable, but she could feel his pain as if it were her own. He was strong, powerful and dangerous. But he was also alone. He had no one. His mother was as much of a responsibility as a small child. He’d set himself on a course to destroy his father and alienate his sisters. It was a battle of one against the world.

      A battle he could never win, because even in winning he would lose.

      Oddly enough, that made her want to go to him. Part of her wanted to tell him that everything would be all right. Which made her stupid, or at the very least confused.

      “I suppose you’ll ignore me if I tell you to apologize,” she said. “That saying you regret what happened might go a long way to healing things with Nick.”

      “I might listen if you tell me naked.”

      She rolled her eyes. “Do you really think a comment like that will distract me?”

      “It’s worth a try.”

      “You need a better game plan. I’m not your average bimbo.”

      “I don’t date bimbos. Marly was a Rhodes Scholar.”

      “Then what was she doing with you?”

      “Use your imagination.”

      “Doesn’t being on the defense all the time get exhausting?” she asked.

      “I’ll answer that question when you do.”

      Oh. Right. That was kind of her thing.

      They looked at each other. He’d taken off his jacket when he’d first walked into the penthouse. Before dinner he’d rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. Now he pulled off his tie and tossed it onto the table next to him.

      The act was nothing. His fingers unfastened the knot at his throat, then he pulled the length of fabric free and threw it to the side. Yet the movement was unbelievably sexy and masculine. It made her think about undoing buttons and hands on bare skin. It made her want to squirm and reach and get lost in whatever magic Garth possessed. It made her want to be taken—an ironic longing considering she never allowed herself to lose control. To be taken, one had to surrender. Something she would never do.

      “Dana?”

      She blinked slowly. Time for another subject change. Dining with the man was not particularly restful.

      “Izzy’s serious about her plan,” she said. “Whether you’re willing or not, she’s determined to have you in the family.”

      “Let me guess. They’re going to love me into submission.”

      “If that’s what it takes.”

      “Is that what happened with you?”