You can do this, Tara Johnston told herself. You have to. You don't have another choice.
Taking a deep breath, she took the plunge, pulling open the heavy wooden door to the run-down bar on the seedy side of town. The pungent smell of tobacco assaulted her and she stifled a cough. Pausing, she tugged at the hem of the uncomfortably short skirt that had managed to meld itself to her thighs.
She blinked against the darkness, feeling more than seeing the assortment of males, ripe with alcohol and testosterone, skimming their eyes over her body. She shivered, wondering what on earth had possessed her to come here.
And then she remembered — scandal. She needed a scandal, and she needed one now. And since rumor had it Tyler Curtis was back in town, she'd come here to find him — and to recruit him.
Common sense whispered for her to get out of there, and pronto. But this wasn't a common sense kind of mission. What had Brenda called it? Radical, wild, ridiculous? And harebrained. Don't forget harebrained. But in the end, Brenda had agreed that it was Tara's only surefire chance of getting out from under her father's thumb. Judge Johnston insisted that his little girl follow in his political footsteps, and no amount of reasoning could sway him. He'd even had the gall to enter her name as a candidate for a judicial appointment, despite her protests.
Well, Tara was finished with reasoning. She was simply going to engineer a good old-fashioned sex scandal. Considering her father's staid nature, not to mention the town's conservative bent, that would surely put a quick end to her political career.
No, common sense wasn't calling the shots here. Self-preservation was. She took another deep breath. She'd come to this bar looking for Tyler. Time to get on with it.
She took an unsteady step, balancing carefully on three-inch spiked heels. She'd spent the past six days convincing herself to go through with this plan. She wasn't going to let a few stares stop her now. Not even lecherous stares accompanied by rather rude hand motions.
The bar's entrance sloped down to the sawdust-covered floor, and by the time she'd wobbled to the bottom of the ramp, her eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting. She let her gaze scan the room, hoping she'd find Tyler before one of the Neanderthals with lust in his eyes found her.
Before he'd moved to Dallas 10 years ago, Tyler used to ride his Harley to the edge of town and hang out in this joint. Tara had heard that he still came back for nostalgia's sake. She could only hope it was true. If she didn't find him here, she had no idea where she'd look next.
In his high school days, Tyler'd had long hair, played in a band, and hung out with the grunge crowd. As Tara moved toward the bar, she looked around for anyone even remotely resembling the wild guy she'd known so long ago. Nothing. Afraid her mission was a failure, she caught the bartender's eye, then ordered a beer.
"I'm looking for someone," she said, when the bartender slid a frosty long-neck in front of her. Someone else called for a drink, and the bartender signaled that he'd be right back, then he slipped to the far side of the bar.
A man beside her who smelled of stale beer and cigarettes sidled closer. "I'm someone, sweetheart."
"I… You're not…" Tara stepped away until the back of her legs pressed against the cold metal of a bar stool.
"I'm not what?" He leaned closer, and Tara considered bolting, but she was trapped between the bar and the creep. "Sugar, I can be whoever you want me to be."
"Please, just —"
"Leave the lady alone, Cooper." A solid voice. Rough. Masculine. A voice that oozed down Tara's spine like warm honey. A voice that was somehow familiar.
The creep backed off as she looked up. The light caught on the strong cut of her hero's jaw and cheek, accentuating the small scar across his chin. Even though he was cleaned up, there was no mistaking that face. Tyler.
His hair was cut short, respectable. There was still a shaggy quality to it — an enticement for a woman's fingers — but he'd lost the bad boy sheen. Now he seemed polished, even respectable. At least until she looked into his eyes — eyes that still reflected an innate wildness. Eyes that seemed as though they could look straight into her soul.
"Tara?" His head cocked just slightly and his forehead furrowed as he stared at her. "Tara Johnston?"
Her cheeks burned as his gaze skimmed over her, his examination almost physical. Her body warmed under his blatant stare, and by the time he reached her face and their eyes met, she felt as if she might melt.
The corner of his mouth curved up as amusement danced in his eyes. "Not exactly your neck of the woods, is it, sweetheart?" The rough tip of his finger traced the neckline of her tight, red shirt, causing her to shiver. "And this doesn't exactly look like Anne Klein."
"No." She swallowed, unnerved by her reaction to him. She'd picked Tyler because of his reputation, and because he owed her a favor from their high school days. But she hadn't anticipated how sexy he'd look now, 10 years later. And never in a million years would she have expected the intense visceral reaction she was having to him.
"No, I…I guess I've…"
"Changed a bit," he finished for her, a hint of a tease in his voice. "I thought the old Tara was pretty, but, sweetheart, you could do serious harm to a man just walking through a room."
She sucked in a breath, searching for courage. "I'm glad you think so. It'll make things easier."
"Easier?"
She nodded. "I came here looking for you. I…I need your help." She licked her lips. "You said you owed me a favor, remember?"
"Of course." A flash of real concern crossed his face. "Are you in trouble?"
"I need you, Tyler." Fisting her hands, she forced herself to blurt out her plan. "I need you to have an affair. With me."
"Excuse me?"
Tyler was sure he'd heard her wrong. No way was Tara the Untouchable, star of his every adolescent fantasy, coming on to him. In his wildest imagination, he'd never thought that the girl who didn't know he was alive back in high school would ask him to make love to her.
As she swept her long, dark hair off her neck, he caught the scent of her perfume — something floral and expensive. Class. She'd always had class and even the obviously borrowed clothes she wore couldn't tarnish her respectable image.
Her shoulders slumped, an expression of chagrin crossing her pretty face. When she spoke, her voice sounded husky with despair. "Brenda was right. This is a ridiculous plan. Forget I mentioned it, okay?"
The investigative reporter in him went on alert. There was definitely a story here. He caught her wrist as she started to get up and leave. "Wait a minute, sweetheart. Not so fast."
A spark of hope leapt into her green eyes as she struggled back onto the bar stool.
"You'll help me?"
"Well, I do owe you one." Tyler smiled.
Flashing him a smile of relief, she stroked one finger along the scar on his chin, a reminder of the public brawl he'd gotten into right before graduation. Thanks to Tara's insistence that he'd been defending himself, Tyler had avoided any jail time. Everyone knew he didn't start the fight, but she had been the only witness to stand up for him.
On impulse, he took her hand in his own and pressed a kiss into her palm. "What is this all about?"
"You remember my father?"
"How could I forget?" Judge Johnston was part of the reason Tyler left Jersey in the first place. Not to mention the reason he'd come back.
Tyler took a swallow from her beer bottle since she had yet to touch it. The thought of her actually drinking any of the amber lager amused him. Tara was more the white wine type.
"Well, then, you also remember how single-minded and strong-willed he can be. Don't get me wrong. Daddy loves me and I know he only has my best interests at heart. But this time he's gone too far." Tara absently picked at the label of her beer bottle. "I've told him again and again that I don't want to go into politics. He put my name forward as a candidate for a municipal judge anyway."
"That doesn't sound so bad." Tyler realized that she still held his hand. The warm touch of her soft skin wasn't so bad, either.
"I'm happy being a family-law attorney. I love what I do and that's why I want to make sure my political career ends before it begins."
He arched an eyebrow, allowing sarcasm to color his tone. "And you figure having an affair with me will be so scandalous that you'll never get elected? Thanks, Tara. That's really flattering."
She looked startled, then abashed. "Oh, I didn't mean to insult you. It's just that your reputation —"
"I'm not the same guy I was back in high school. I still have the Harley, but my attitude and ambitions have changed."
"Look, Tyler, I realize this is a lot to ask. But I know that if you'd only pretend to have an affair with me, my father will back off."
Pretend? How could he look at her, let alone spend time with her, and not want Tara for real? He watched her tug at her sexy miniskirt with undisguised interest. Her smooth, shapely legs appeared endless and those "seduce-me" shoes were giving him all sorts of erotic ideas.
"What's in it for me? Other than the all-too-obvious."
When she nervously licked her lips again, Tyler barely suppressed a groan.
"What do you want? Other than the obvious."
"A Pulitzer. But I'll settle for my own byline."
He'd returned to Texas six days ago, hoping for a story on Judge Johnston that would make his name as an investigative reporter. It seemed the perfect opportunity had just fallen into his lap, along with the chance to finally prove he was worthy of a woman like Tara.
"I want an exclusive interview with the judge. Now that your father is running for the State Supreme Court, everybody wants to know about him."
"It's a deal." With a triumphant gleam in her eyes, she offered to shake on it.
He glanced at her outstretched hand and shook his head before lifting his gaze. "If we're going to pretend to have a hot affair, then we need to practice. Let's seal the bargain with a kiss."
Tyler leaned forward on the bar stool until his denim-clad knees met her bare thighs. He cupped his hands over her rounded hips, felt the heat of her body through the thin material. Tara hesitated at first, then wrapped her arms around his neck.
Angling his head to one side, he traced the curve of her mouth with his tongue. Her lips tasted incredibly sweet as he teased them open. A shudder of pleasure shot through him when Tara kissed him back.
He was surprised by her eager response as her mouth covered his hungrily. She aroused his desire, but also an unexpected tenderness. Kissing her was pure pleasure.
After a few moments, the sound of whistles and catcalls penetrated his lust-fogged mind. Tyler reluctantly ended the kiss and leaned back. He watched as Tara slowly opened her eyes. Judging by her flushed cheeks and dazed expression, she was as sorry to break contact as he was.
"Come on, sweetheart. Let's get out of here and give the town of Jersey the sexiest scandal they've ever seen." He threw some bills on the bar to cover her beer, grabbed her hand and started for the door.
"Wait — where are we going?" Tara exclaimed, stumbling after him on her too-high heels.
Tyler turned and looked at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "If a scandal's what you're after, sweetheart, I know the perfect way to start.…"
"I'm not riding on that!" Tara crossed her arms and took a step back from the sleek black Harley.
Tyler ignored her objection. He firmly placed the extra helmet on her head and buckled the strap beneath her chin. His fingers lingered for a moment before he turned to reach for his own helmet. With athletic grace, he swung one long denim-clad leg over the Harley and threw a glance over his shoulder at Tara.
"I thought you wanted a scandal. It's not too late to back out."
The challenge in his dark blue eyes stiffened Tara's spine. Reminding herself that this was exactly what she wanted, she took a deep breath and approached the gleaming bike.
Climbing on the seat behind Tyler was more difficult than she had anticipated. Balancing on one spiked heel, she swung her leg over the seat. Her tight skirt rode up even higher on her thighs and she was forced to forget all modesty as she pressed her body against Tyler's hard back and circled his waist with her arms. Tyler revved the engine and pulled out of the parking lot with a loud roar.
"Where are we going?" Tara shouted over the noise of the engine. The wind tugged at her hair as they raced down the street and Tara felt a wave of exhilaration sweep through her. She was actually going to do this. For once she was going to push caution aside.
"We're going to the hotel where they're holding that fund-raiser for your father," Tyler flung over his shoulder as they idled at a light.
"What! Are you insane?" Tara exclaimed, but before she could say more, the light had changed and they were racing down the street again. Instinctively her arms tightened around his waist.
Insane, Tyler silently agreed as he leaned the bike through a turn and pulled into the hotel parking lot. And reckless, he added to himself. It had been a long time since he had walked the edge and he had forgotten how addictive that surge of adrenaline could be.
As a reporter he had been invited to attend the fund-raiser for Judge Johnston and had been planning to show up late in hopes of getting a few quotes from the judge. Now, with his daughter in tow and her promise of an interview, he couldn't fail.
The only problem was that with her pressed against his back, the long line of her bare legs alongside his, all he could think about was her. He was surrounded by her scent. He could still remember how she tasted when they kissed. Intoxicating.
With a mixture of amusement and pure male appreciation for her long, shapely legs, Tyler watched Tara climb off his Harley. He held out a hand to steady her when she wobbled on her high heels.
"Thanks," she said as she tugged her hand out of his and reached for the buckle on her helmet. Her cheeks were flushed from the wind and her green eyes sparkled as she handed him her helmet. "That was fun," she said, surprising him.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Tyler asked.
Tara quickly nodded her head before she lost her courage. For a moment, she had forgotten that she was here for a reason.
"What should we do now?" she asked as they entered the cool lobby. She was a novice when it came to scandals. Tyler, she figured, was an expert.
Tyler cocked an eyebrow at her as if he had read her thoughts.
"Just follow my lead." Gently he took her face in his hands and covered her mouth with his. The ruthless gleam in his eyes disappeared as his hands touched her skin.
He had meant the kiss to be more for show than anything else, but when Tara wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, he forgot everything except her. His hands moved into the soft silk of her hair and Tara sighed into his mouth before pulling back to look into his eyes.
She was on the verge of pressing her lips against his throat where his pulse beat a rapid tattoo that echoed her own when the sound of a loud cough caused her to hesitate. Her surroundings came flooding back as she realized that they were standing in the middle of the lobby of the nicest hotel in Jersey, and that her father was just behind the closed doors of the large conference room.
As one, Tara and Tyler jerked their heads toward the hotel desk, where the clerk was again clearing her throat and staring at the two of them with undisguised fascination.
Tara bit back a groan and stepped out of Tyler's embrace. Hot color flooded her face as she allowed Tyler to guide her to one of the large sofas that dominated the lobby of the hotel.
"I'll be right back," he whispered in her ear.
In long easy strides, Tyler approached the front desk. Tara followed him with her eyes. For a moment she allowed herself to admire his masculine grace, but she surged to her feet when she heard him say, "I'll need a room for the night."
Her face burned with embarrassment and she turned away from the curious stare of the desk clerk. Harebrained, she remembered Brenda saying; and now she couldn't agree more.
What was she doing? she asked herself. She could still leave now before too much damage was done. Somehow this whole plan had escaped her control and was gaining a life of its own. A wave of panic swept over her and she turned blindly to run to the door.
Instead of escape, she took two steps and ran straight into Hank Brown, her father's law clerk.
"Tara," he exclaimed with delight as he steadied her. "What a nice surprise. Your father will be so pleased that you changed your mind." His voice tapered off as his eyes took in her scanty attire. His face grew puzzled. "Tara —"
"Here's the key, sweetheart," Tyler interrupted as he wrapped an arm around her waist and nuzzled her ear. "Let's go."
Tara's knees went weak when she felt Tyler's breath in her hair. Though her heart was pounding and her face was warm, she managed to introduce the two men.
"Hank, I've promised Tyler an exclusive interview with my father. Will you arrange that for me?" She batted her eyelashes.
Hank cleared his throat. "I can call you tomorrow. You and your…friend…should leave before…" He continued to stammer, and Tara tried not to giggle. Hank's political mind was already working on damage control.
Harebrained. Absolutely harebrained, no doubt about it.
"It's okay," she said. "If you're too busy, I'll talk to Daddy myself." She took one step away from Tyler's embrace, and turned toward the conference room, hoping desperately that Hank wouldn't call her bluff.
"No, no. I'll do it right now. Why don't you wait…?" His eyes flew around the lobby looking for a place to hide the troublesome couple.
"We'll be in our room," Tyler said. "Five-thirteen. Tell the judge he can call me there. Come on, baby." He wrapped his arm around Tara possessively and led her to the elevator.
Once the doors closed, Tara gave in to the giggles. "Did you see the look on his face? I think his jaw is still on the floor."
Tyler grinned, spinning her around in his arms to face him. "You'll be a political has-been in no time."
Tara smiled up into Tyler's face. Her arms rested naturally around his neck. They shared a spontaneous, playful kiss, then clasped hands as the elevator stopped at their floor.
Tara wondered at how naturally and easily their hands fit together. Then she pushed the thought away; Tyler was only in this for the interview. She mustn't let herself get carried away.
When they reached room 513, Tyler slid the key-card into the door and let them in. Immediately Tara picked up the phone. Tyler flopped on the bed and started flipping channels on the TV. Typical man, Tara thought.
"You did what?" Brenda said gleefully, after Tara related the story. "Damn, I wish I was there."
"You get your wish. Bring me an overnight bag with some decent clothes. It looks as though I'm here for the duration."
"Has it occurred to you that you don't need any clothes to conduct a sex scandal?" Brenda said.
"Brenda! This is a fake sex scandal, remember? My father is here! I'd die if he saw me dressed like this!"
"Calm down, sweetie. Go practice being scandalous, and I'll be there in 10 minutes."
She hung up the phone. Tyler was flipping between the news channels, occasionally stopping to make notes. She retreated to the bathroom, where she washed the makeup off her face. The lipstick at least was mostly gone when she was done.
I'm alone in a hotel room with Tyler Curtis, who happens to be the world's best kisser, Tara couldn't help thinking. An actual sex scandal would be just as effective as a fake one, she rationalized. She closed her eyes and remembered how it felt to be pressed up against Tyler as the Harley's motor rumbled between her legs. I'm sure Tyler wouldn't mind a change of plans, she thought.
Stop that! she told herself sternly. Brenda's going to be here any minute.
She walked back into the bedroom and tripped in the ridiculous high heels once again. Tyler caught her and pulled her onto the bed with him.
"You're going through an awful lot to get out of being a judge," he said, as he removed her shoes and tossed them across the room. "Would it really be so bad?"
Tara sighed. Tyler turned off the TV, giving her his full attention. "I can't give up what I do. Family law is important. It's discouraging and heartbreaking sometimes, but I'm trying to do the right thing for children who are caught in the middle of an adult mess."
"The way you were," Tyler said. Tara looked up, surprised at the tenderness in his blue eyes.
Her parents had divorced when she was 15. She had tried to make sure no one at school could see how the ugly custody battle affected her. "You noticed?"
His hands gently squeezed her sore feet. "Everything about you."
She blushed and looked away. "You never said anything."
A knock at the door interrupted them. She started to stand, but Tyler pressed her gently back down and moved toward the door himself. He checked the peephole before he opened the door.
"Brenda Carter," he said. "You've never looked more beautiful."
Brenda gave him an appraising look. "You clean up pretty good yourself." She pushed her way into the room with an overnight bag.
"Give me that," Tara said greedily. "I've got to get out of these clothes."
She returned to the bathroom and changed into the slacks and blouse Brenda had provided. Then she groaned. In the bottom of the suitcase were a purple negligee and a box of condoms. Brenda had packed no other sleeping attire.
"Brenda, you are dead meat," she muttered.
It didn't make her feel any better to see Brenda sitting next to Tyler, laughing and resting her hand on Tyler's thigh when she stepped out into the room again. Brenda was naturally flirtatious and probably didn't mean anything by it, but Tara's blood was boiling.
"You. Out. Now." Tara said.
Brenda grinned. "I get it. You two want to be alone."
Tara dragged Brenda out into the hall. "What are you up to?" she rasped.
"Just looking out for your best interests, sweetie. And I have to admit, I like the view."
"I thought you said this plan was crazy."
"It is crazy. Especially since Tyler Curtis is still in love with you."
"What? He said that?"
"He didn't have to," Brenda said. "I'm not blind. Now I'm going to crash the fund-raiser and spread rumors about you while you decide whether you want a scandal or a relationship." She flounced down the hall.
"Brenda hasn't changed a bit, has she?" Tyler said as Tara came back into the room and shut the door.
Tara didn't answer. She sank into the nearest chair, wondering if Brenda could possibly be right.
"You okay, hon? You want to get some room service or something?" He stood behind her and squeezed her shoulders. "You're awfully tense."
She jumped when she heard the pounding on the door. There was no way it was Brenda.
"Open up, Curtis," her father's voice bellowed. "Tara, are you in there?"
"Well, that didn't take long," groaned Tara.
"Oh, I'm gonna love this," said Tyler, heading toward the door.
"I'll get it," she said, with a tense smile. "I wanted a scandal, not a fistfight." Tara hurried to the door and opened it enough to stick her head out. Her father stood imposingly outside the door, his face flushed with anger.
Tara's heart had quickened at the mere sound of his angry voice, but now it felt as if it were going to jump out of her chest. Tara had always had trouble standing up to her father. He was a judge through and through, in public and in private. One stern look from him and Tara turned into a pile of jelly. This scheme was harebrained all right, but it was too late to back out now. It was her best opportunity to stand up to her father for the first time in her life.
"Hi, Daddy," she cooed, smiling up at him sweetly.
"Don't you, 'hi, Daddy' me," he said sternly. "What is going on, Tara? Hank dragged me out of that fund-raiser with some story about you prancing around the lobby half-dressed, with that sleazy reporter pawing you, demanding an interview."
"First of all, Tyler is not —"
"Is he in there?" he interrupted, crowding the door.
Tara swung the door open, allowing her father to see Tyler standing in the middle of the room with a smug smile on his face.
"Daddy," said Tara, walking over to Tyler, putting her arm around him, "I think you remember Tyler Curtis."
Tara hadn't thought it possible, but her father turned three shades redder. He stood there for a moment, stunned, and then stormed into the room, slamming the door behind him.
"When did you slither back into to town, Curtis?" spat her father.
"Daddy!" exclaimed Tara. She was stunned by her father's inherent hatred toward Tyler. Tara took a couple of steps away from Tyler and noticed the way he and her father were glaring at each other. She had a feeling something else was going on here.
"I thought I told you to stay away from her," spat her father.
Tara looked at her father in shock. "You what?"
"You mean he never told you?" said Tyler.
"Told me what?" asked Tara, turning to see Tyler's smug smile.
"Do you want to tell her or shall I?" Tyler asked her father.
"Well, somebody better tell me," said Tara after a moment of tense silence.
"When you came to my defense in high school, your father assumed that we were having a fling and paid me a little visit, isn't that right, Judge?" said Tyler maintaining his smug smirk.
"You did what?" Tara looked at her father again for a response, but he just continued glaring at Tyler.
"That's right," said Tyler. "He told me that it would be better for everyone concerned — I think he meant himself — if I never saw you again. I guess he didn't want me tainting his precious little girl."
"You didn't!" Tara knew she shouldn't really be surprised, but she was.
"Oh, he most certainly did," continued Tyler. "What I loved best about our little conversation was the part where he told me that it was in my best interest to leave town quietly, or else."
"Daddy," exclaimed Tara, "how could you!"
"I was only looking out for you," said her father finally.
"Daddy, this is exactly the kind of behavior that forced me into this harebrained scheme," said Tara, nervously pacing the room.
"What scheme?" asked her father pointedly.
Tara took a deep breath and faced her father. "Daddy, Tyler didn't lure me into this room. I went looking for him tonight and asked for his help. You see, that whole scene in the lobby is only a taste of what's to come if you don't butt out of my life."
"What are you talking about?" asked her father with a furrowed brow.
"I'm talking about you putting me up for that municipal judgeship after I told you I didn't want to go into politics, that I was happy practicing family law," said Tara getting bolder by the second. "All right, you want me to go into politics. Here it goes. I want you to pull my name out of the running for that judgeship. I don't care what excuse you come up with. I also want you to give Tyler an exclusive interview."
"You have to be kidding," her father said, laughing. "Give him an interview, so he can tear me apart?"
"I promise I'll be infinitely fairer with you than you were with me," said Tyler with a raised eyebrow.
"You really don't have a choice in the matter," said Tara pointedly.
"Oh, really," scoffed her father.
"Daddy, if you don't, Tyler and I will give much more explicit displays of our affection in much more crowded settings. I wouldn't be surprised if we found a few photographers to record our scandalous affair. I'll ruin my reputation all over town, so that no one in his right mind will give me a judgeship. I'm sure it won't be too helpful to your campaign, either."
"You can't be serious," said her father with a touch of concern.
"Oh, but I am," said Tara firmly. She looked him right in the eye and waited for him to concede, but he only stared back. "Tyler, what do you say I go put on that skimpy outfit and we go down to that fund-raiser and give them a show they'll never forget," said Tara, giving Tyler a sexy smile.
"Now just hold on a minute," Judge Johnston said and put his large hands up. He rubbed his forehead as if the situation was giving him an excruciating headache. After a long pause he said, "Tara, honey, I don't understand. I put you up for that judgeship because, well, I'm not one for outright flattery but you're a damn good lawyer and I just know you'd make an incredible judge. You're the kind of person this town needs!"
Tara looked shocked and her large, dark eyes were slightly glassy with emotion. It was the first time in years her father had actually said she was good at something instead of pushing her to do more. She took a step toward him.
"Oh, Daddy," she said, reaching her hands out toward his shoulders, "don't you see that the families, especially the children I help, need me, too?"
"What is it you can give those kids that you can't give to everyone else?" Her father growled in a half hurt, half curious tone.
"The value of experience, Daddy." Tara looked straight into her father's weathered face. "I want to help kids who are going through what I went through when you and Mom divorced." The judge's stern face softened instantaneously.
Tyler stood by silently and observed father and daughter facing each other, four eyes brimming with tears. Suddenly all the feelings he had once held for Tara came rushing back and he remembered how hard it had been to leave her behind all those years ago. I'm not going to lose her again, he thought with determination.
"Oh, sweetheart, I had no idea," said Tara's father as he enveloped her in a warm embrace. "My little girl still is still hurting after all these years and I didn't have a clue." By now, Tara was shaking, and tears started to stream down her face, settling in the hair draped over her shoulders.
"Daddy, I want to make you happy more than anything, but I have to do what means something to me."
"I want you to be happy, too. That's all I've ever wanted for you. I just made the mistake of thinking I knew what would make you happy," her father confessed slowly.
As the two hugged, Tyler began to feel intrusive watching such an intimate moment. What had begun as a dangerously erotic adventure had evolved into a private reconciliation between father and daughter. Coughing to get their attention, he planned to make a quick exit.
"I really should leave you two alone," he said, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. He made a move for the door.
"Not so fast, young man." Judge Johnston snapped out of his daughter's embrace and stepped squarely in front of Tyler.
Tyler didn't flinch. Judge Johnston folded his arms. Tyler's chest was pounding in anticipation of what was to come. Would the judge run him out of this hotel room just as he'd run him out of town all those years ago? Whatever humiliation he was about to face, Tyler knew it would hurt infinitely more with Tara standing there, her face still dewy from tears, her lips swollen.
Tyler's blood burned hot as he tried to fight off thoughts of her breath on his face, her tongue tracing his lips, down his chest, down, until… He had to snap out if it! Get a hold of yourself, man, he told himself. Say goodbye to your daydreams, the judge is about to hand down his latest sentence.
"Though I don't necessarily agree with your method," Judge Johnston grumbled and eyed the hotel room, "I can't fault you for trying to help my little girl get what makes her happy."
A surge of relief flooded Tyler's entire body.
"I think I've spent enough time telling my girl what's best for her. It's time to let her decide for herself." Both Tara and Tyler could see how difficult it was for the judge to speak these words. He kept his eyes focused on the hotel's burgundy carpet. "I know whatever she chooses will be the right choice," he said quietly.
As he turned to leave the room, he said, "It's hard to watch your daughter grow up into a beautiful, independent young woman, you know… Oh, and Tyler," he said over his shoulder, "If you want that interview, you'll have to be the early bird. Six a.m. sharp, tomorrow morning. My office." And with that, he was gone.
Tyler looked at Tara in amazement. "He gave me the interview," he said, sounding slightly confused. He turned and bounced backward onto the hotel's king-size bed. "He gave me the interview!"
Lying there with his hands rooted firmly in his tussled hair, his long body stretched out on the bed, he looked like a wild man tamed, if only for an instant. Tara moved to a chair across the room. She was tired from the emotional exchange with her father, and winded from the arousal she had felt as Tyler kissed her earlier, an arousal that now might never be satisfied.
Crossing her long legs, she looked at Tyler again. It would just never work out. He lived for the fast-paced ups and downs of life as a journalist.
Besides, Tara told herself, he might have been swept up in the moment with you earlier, but now all he can think about is his interview. All's well that ends well, she tried to convince herself, and desperately pulled her gaze off his handsome, chiseled face.
"I'm glad you got what you wanted," she said gruffly. She meant it — she was glad that he had gotten the interview. But she also wished she still had an excuse to entice him. To lure him toward her so she could feel the soft pressure of his lips brush past hers, over her shoulders, his hands gripping her hips again like they had earlier, back in the bar. But she'd used up all her favors.
As Tyler sat up, Tara thought that the width of his shoulders were all the more impressive now that she knew she wouldn't touch them again. A slow smirk spread across his face, wrinkling the faded scar on his cheek. His eyes seemed to darken as he looked at her in the dim light of the hotel room.
"For once, Miss Johnston, you're completely and utterly wrong," Tyler said as he lifted himself off of the bed and faced her. "I haven't gotten what I wanted. Not by a long shot."
Tara's eyes widened and her heart started to pound. Those impossibly blue eyes were fastened to hers as if trying to read her innermost thoughts.
"Ex-excuse me?" she stammered.
"Do you really believe all I wanted was the interview with your father?" Tyler's question wasn't accusing; it was merely curious.
"I thought that was the primary reason you agreed to this."
His eyebrow lifted. "It was — for about 15 seconds. I stuck with this whole crazy idea because of one simple reason. You."
Tara blinked. "I know you think you owe me, but—"
"This has nothing to do with any kind of debt," he interrupted her with exasperation. "This is between a man and a woman. You and me." When she said nothing, only sat staring at him with those gorgeous green eyes, he turned to pace away his frustration. "I've wanted you from the moment I first saw you."
Brenda's words came back to mind as she watched him prowl around the room. Tyler Curtis is still in love with you. At the time, Tara had thought it was preposterous. But now, seeing the look on his face, remembering the way he'd kissed her, it didn't seem so far-fetched. Could it be true? She thought incredulously. Could this caring, wonderful man be in love with me?
"In high school, you didn't even know I existed," he growled, breaking into her thoughts. "You seemed so far away, so out of reach. You drove me crazy."
"I never knew that."
"Why would you?" he snapped. "We ran in totally different crowds. That night when you stuck up for me, I thought all my dreams had come true. You noticed me. You even seemed to care like I did."
"I did. I do."
Those simple words stopped Tyler cold. He looked back at her, his anger at bittersweet memories deflating like a balloon. Her eyes, full of nerves but bright with emotion, stayed on his as he stepped close to her. Taking her hands, he brought her to her feet.
"I care, too," he whispered, brushing his lips over her knuckles. "More than I ever thought possible."
All Tara could do was stare back at him, mesmerized. Doubts about their careers and background haunted her, but she couldn't look away. He turned her hand over and pressed a kiss into her palm, letting his lips linger there. Her heart stuttered once, then fell at his feet. She wondered then if she had always been headed here, to him.
"What do you want, Tyler?" she asked, her voice surprisingly steady.
He raised his eyes and with a gentle hand, traced her cheek. "What I've always wanted. You."
Her breath caught in her throat. He loved her. He didn't have to say it — she could see it. He stared down at her mouth, his callused thumb stroking her lips apart. "Tell me what you want," he asked, his voice raspy with suppressed passion.
She could feel his warm breath on her lips and it broke every reserve she had left. "You." Now. Forever.
His eyes darkened and his fingers tensed slightly. When Tara uttered what he had longed to hear, Tyler had to fight the urge to ravage her where she stood. She deserved tenderness and love. He had both for her. He drew her against him, his arms going around her waist so she could feel how very much he wanted her. Loved her. He groaned as she slid her slender arms around his neck. He could feel every curve, every angle of her purely feminine form. She was more than any fantasy. She was Tara.
Burying his face in her hair, he breathed in her sweet scent, feeling old wounds healing.
"How I want you," he muttered, his lips pressing against the sensitive spot just below her earlobe.
"Show me," she moaned, desperate to feel his mouth on hers. Tara felt her blood burn. How could the man be so patient when she was about to explode?
"I plan on it," he whispered against her throat, his tongue tracing a delicious pattern against her flesh. Finally, finally, his lips settled on hers. A jolt raced through her and she opened for him immediately, her mouth urgent and hungry. She had never needed anyone like this. She had never loved anyone like this. Plunging her fingers into his hair, she stood on tiptoe, trying to get as close as she possibly could. She wanted him to make love to her now.
Sensing her impatience, Tyler raised his head an inch in order to look at her. His breath was ragged, his eyes triumphant. "I've waited almost 15 years for this." He swept her into his arms. "I'm going to make it last…"
Later — much later — Tara lay in Tyler's arms, her heart still racing. She had just been through the most passionate, the most wonderful lovemaking experience of her life. She had never known she could feel like this. She had been called beautiful before but when Tyler touched her, she truly felt so.
Leaning on an elbow, she looked down at his extremely satisfied face. Her heart turned over. She really loved him.
He reached up, stroking her hair from her cheek. "You look happy," he said.
She kissed him playfully. "So do you."
"I am," he replied, pushing her hair behind her ear. "I'm also extremely thirsty. You want some water?"
"I'll get it," she said, looking around for something to put on and decided that his shirt was her best option.
Tyler watched as she went into the bathroom with two standard hotel glasses, his shirt skimming her thighs. He was a happy man. He had just made love to the most beautiful woman in the world — the woman he had waited a lifetime for. And now she was his. It had been worth every second of the wait. And he never wanted to let her go again.
"Tara? Let's get married," he said impulsively.
The only answer he got was the sound of glass shattering on the tiles.
Tara jumped as the water glass splintered into a million pieces. Marriage! Tyler actually wanted to marry her?
It was insane. It was crazy. It was everything she'd secretly been hoping for.
"Are you okay?" Tyler called.
"I'm fine." She laced her voice with a hint of nonchalance, as if his words hadn't completely knocked her for a loop. "I'm just cleaning up the broken glass."
Leaning back against the door, she tried to absorb everything that had happened in the last few days. For one, she'd reconciled with her father, finally making him understand not only that she didn't want to be a judge, but why.
Tyler, bless him, had helped her. He'd barely blinked at her proposition, somehow realizing that her career was important enough that she was willing to risk humiliating herself in front of the entire Jersey political community. She'd pulled Tyler into her scheme in order to save the career she loved — only to discover that Tyler was the man she loved.
"Tara?" His deep voice penetrated the bathroom door, his concern evident from his tone. "You haven't answered my question. Your silence isn't doing much good for my ego."
Slipping out of the bathroom, she met his eyes, nearly coming undone at the passion she saw reflected there. "Sorry. You caught me off guard."
He came to her, encircling her in the strong fortress of his arms. "In a good way, I hope."
She nodded against his shoulder, feeling warm and safe in his arms. Tyler. The man who wanted to marry her. Except…
She looked him in the eye, even as tears were building in her own. "I want to, Tyler. So much. But how can it work?"
"If we love each other, it can work." His blue eyes burned with sincerity born of conviction.
She shook her head. "Can it? I'm committed to my practice, and to this town. But you…"
She trailed off. Big-time journalists didn't work in small towns. The only reason he'd come back now was to get some dirt on her father. "I don't want a weekend marriage with a husband working in Dallas or New York or Washington. I want a family. A home life."
She bit her lip, then reached up to stroke his cheek. "I know you want me. And Lord knows I want you. But I need to know — do you want the rest of it, too?"
"Am I boring you, son?" The Judge's amused voice permeated his Tara-filled brain.
"Sorry, sir." Mentally, he thunked himself on the head. He'd been distracted, off his game, throughout this whole interview. In truth, though, the interview hadn't gone like he'd expected. Considering their past history, he'd expected the judge to be a self-centered ogre. Instead, Tyler had just spent four hours with a man whose primary concern — other than his daughter — was justice and the good of his community.
"One more thing," the Judge said. "For the record."
Tyler nodded, automatically glancing down to make sure his microcassette recorder was turned on. "Go ahead."
"I'm sorry."
Tyler blinked. "Excuse me?"
"It's been a long time coming, but I owe you an apology. A big one. I misjudged you." A smile crossed the Judge's lips. "I admit I thought the worst of you — ten years ago and yesterday, seeing you with Tara. But after hearing her side of it…" He shrugged. "Well, the fact is, I was wrong. And you've done a heck of a job building your career."
"I…" he trailed off, not sure what to say. "Thank you." The Judge's words sunk in. "You've followed my career?"
At that, the Judge stood up and patted him on the shoulder. "Had to make sure I hadn't scarred you for life with my misjudgment. It looks like you proved me wrong. But good."
Tyler couldn't help but smile. "Well, sir. I tried."
"So when are you heading home? Or are you heading home?"
Tyler shook his head. Judge Johnston was a very astute man. "Home is where my job is. But your daughter's here."
"Not a lot of work for an up-and-coming journalist in a town this size."
"No sir." And therein lay the rub.
"Of course, the Court in Austin needs a press liaison. Prestigious work. And interesting. And it's a short drive. Pretty country, too." Casually, the Judge headed for the door as Tyler tried not to smile.
"If you know someone who's interested, let me know." The Judge looked at him one last time before pulling the door shut, the twinkle in his eye unmistakable. "I have an in with the hiring committee."
"Okay," Tyler said, guiding Tara out of the car. "You can open your eyes."
They'd driven for about thirty minutes before he'd parked, and, except for the increased traffic noise, Tara had no idea what to expect. Three days had passed since Tyler's proposal — three wonderful days with the man she loved — but they still hadn't talked about how they could make it all work out, if they really had a future together.
When she opened her eyes, she still didn't have a clue. "Uh, we're in front of the courthouse." She flashed him a saucy grin. "Are we spending the day touring Austin? Because if we are, I need some things at the mall…"
"We're decorating," he said.
She cocked her head, not at all sure where he was going with that. "Okay. I'll bite. Decorating what?"
"My new office." He stuck out his hand. "Say 'hi' to the new press liaison for the Court."
The world started to spin. "A new job? In Austin? But… but… the paper? It means so much to you."
He took her hand. "You mean more."
A well-spring of happiness burst within her, and she flung herself into his arms. "Oh, Tyler! Are you sure?"
Gently, he cupped her chin, tilting her head back, his eyes solid and strong. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life. But I need an answer, Tara. I need to hear you say it."
"I love you." The words fell easily off her tongue, right and perfect.
"So is that a yes?" he murmured, lowering his lips to hers.
"Oh, yeah, mister," Tara said, her body so filled with joy it practically radiated out of her fingers and toes. "That's definitely a yes."
The End