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Authors: Naomi Chase

BOOK: Betrayal
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As a heavy silence lapsed between them, she stared out the window.
“Anyway,” Dominic continued after a few minutes, “I wanted to see what's on the market, and I could use a woman's input. You don't mind, do you?”
How could she?
“Not at all,” she murmured.
 
Dominic drove to Sugar Land, steering through a gated entrance to enter an exclusive subdivision that featured custom waterfront mansions.
The woman who greeted them at the door to the front office was all smiles. Because she'd seen them pull up in a Rolls, she naturally assumed that they could afford to buy a home in the upscale community.
She handed them a glossy brochure with her business card and cheerfully talked their heads off before they were saved by the arrival of new customers.
Dominic quickly ushered Tamia from the office, both of them laughing as they headed to the first model home.
The moment they stepped through the front door, Tamia's eyes widened at the sight of a grand foyer with a winding staircase and a stunning glass sculpture suspended from the ceiling.
“Wow,” she breathed.
Dominic nodded, casually glancing around. “Nice.”
Tamia snorted incredulously. “Are you kidding me?
Nice?

He grinned at her. “
Very
nice.”
She laughed, impulsively grabbing his hand and leading him toward the gourmet kitchen, where they admired gleaming hardwood floors, marble countertops, ultramodern appliances, and custom cabinets.
On the second landing they entered a mammoth master bedroom suite with double chandeliers, a clotheshorse's dream closet, and a humongous bathroom outfitted with travertine marble and a luxurious spa shower.
Dominic smiled indulgently as Tamia squealed and oohed and aahed over everything, unable to contain her excitement. This mansion was beyond anything she'd ever dreamed of owning—and she'd dreamed pretty big.
As she and Dominic wandered from one opulently furnished room to another, she couldn't help fantasizing about what it would be like to call such a place home, to wake up every morning in the lap of such luxury.
And when she caught Dominic staring quietly at her, she found herself imagining that they lived there together . . . as husband and wife.
That was when she knew it was time to go.
“So,” Dominic drawled, following her from the last bedroom, “what do you think of the house?”
Tamia smiled wryly. “I think it's pretty obvious what
I
think. But it doesn't matter. What do
you
think?”
“I like it. It definitely has potential.”
She laughed. “Talk about an understatement!”
As they neared the top of the staircase, Tamia heard voices coming from downstairs. Peering over the wrought-iron banister, she saw that another couple had entered the house.
Not just any couple.
Brandon and Cynthia.
Her heart plummeted.
As she stumbled, Dominic caught her arm to keep her from tumbling down the stairs and breaking her neck.
Face flushed, stomach churning, she watched as Brandon and Cynthia moved through the foyer. They were with another man, presumably their Realtor. He had skin the color of butter pecan, flawlessly sculpted eyebrows, and beautiful dreadlocks pulled back into a ponytail. He was immaculately dressed in a cranberry blazer with fine wool trousers, while Brandon wore a crewneck Rocawear sweater, dark jeans, and black Timbs, his rugged masculinity even more pronounced in the presence of his ponytailed companion.
Cynthia and the Realtor walked together while Brandon followed more slowly. He seemed unfazed by his opulent surroundings—which was no surprise. He'd grown up in a palatial eight-bedroom estate in River Oaks. As impressive as this mansion was, it couldn't hold a candle to the childhood home he would eventually inherit.
Cynthia gushed, “Look at that staircase! It's absolutely—” She broke off at the sight of Tamia and Dominic standing at the top of the landing.
Following the direction of her shocked gaze, Brandon looked up—and froze.
Tamia nervously watched as the muscles in his face tightened into a mask of cold fury.
“Well, isn't this a surprise?” Cynthia exclaimed delightedly, her voice bouncing off the high ceilings.
Tamia didn't resist when Dominic gently curved an arm around her waist. Her legs were so rubbery she didn't think she could make it down the staircase without some assistance.
It was the longest descent of her life.
As she and Dominic finally reached the first floor, Brandon glared at Dominic with barely leashed violence.
Sensing his tension, Cynthia stepped in front of him, a move so subtle Tamia was probably the only one who noticed it.
“Wassup, Brandon,” Dominic drawled mockingly. “Caught your speech on TV this morning. You did Daddy proud.”
As Brandon's lips curled up into a snarl, Cynthia smoothly intervened, thrusting her hand toward Dominic. “Hello. I don't think we've ever met. Cynthia Yarbrough.”
Dominic shook her hand, a lazy smile curving his mouth. “Dominic Archer.”
“Nice to meet you, Dominic.”
“The pleasure's mine,” he murmured, smirking at Brandon.
Cynthia turned to the other man beside her. He'd been watching the unfolding drama with unabashed fascination, looking so entertained Tamia half expected him to pull up a chair and whip out a bag of popcorn.
“This is our Realtor, Marcellus Tremont,” Cynthia introduced him. “Marcellus, this is Tamia Lu—”
“I know who she is.” The man beamed at Tamia. “Your friend Shanell told me all about you, said you were thinking about selling your old house.”
“Yes, that's right.” Tamia smiled, reaching out to shake his hand. “It's nice to meet—”
“Oh my God!” Cynthia squealed, grabbing Tamia's hand and staring at the twinkling diamond on her finger. “Is this what I
think
it is?”
Heat suffused Tamia's face. She'd forgotten all about the fake engagement ring.
As she discreetly attempted to withdraw her hand, Cynthia tightened her grip and exclaimed excitedly to Brandon, “Baby, look at this rock. Can you believe it? They're
engaged!

Brandon stared incredulously at the diamond ring, then looked at Tamia, his eyes filled with raw hurt and betrayal.
She shook her head. “Brandon, it's—” She broke off as he turned and stalked from the house, slamming the front door hard enough to rattle the glass sculpture hanging from the ceiling.
In the awkward silence that followed, Marcellus raised his eyebrows at Tamia.
She looked at Dominic, who merely smiled.
“Well,” Cynthia said with forced brightness, “I guess that's our cue to move on to the next model home.”
“Um, yeah, that might be a good idea,” Marcellus agreed.
Tucking her arm through his, Cynthia gave Tamia and Dominic a sickeningly sweet smile. “It was a pleasure running into you two. I always thought you were just perfect for each other. Congratulations on making it official.”
Tamia gritted her teeth. “We're not—”
Cynthia winked. “Happy house hunting.”
As she and Marcellus headed out the front door, he glanced back at Tamia and mouthed,
Give me a call, girlfriend!
Chapter 23
Tamia
“How long are you gonna give me the silent treatment?”
Tamia had been glowering out the window at rolling pastures dotted with cattle and horses. Hearing Dominic's question, she snapped her head around to sneer at him. “Oh, so now you have a problem with silence?”
He frowned. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“It means you had no problem remaining
silent
and letting Brandon and Cynthia assume that we're engaged.”
Dominic snorted. “How is it my fault that they assumed that?”

Are you serious?
” Tamia waved her hand in his face. “
You're
the one who put this damn rock on my finger!”
“That may be true,” Dominic conceded, “but I don't see how it was my responsibility to let them know what was really up. I didn't see
you
grabbing a bullhorn to set the record straight.”
“I tried—”
“Not hard enough.”
Tamia bristled, mutinously folding her arms across her chest. “That's not the point.”
“What
is
the point?” Dominic challenged. “I mean, why the hell does it even matter whether they think we're engaged?
They're
engaged!”
“I know that,” Tamia said tightly.
“Do you really? Because every time we run into Brandon, you act like you have something to apologize for when
he's
the one who's marrying someone else.”
Tamia shook her head, glaring through the windshield. “You don't understand.”
“No? Then why don't you make me understand?”
“Why should I?” she burst out furiously. “You're not my man, Dominic! I don't owe you any fucking explanations!”
“You don't owe him any, either,” Dominic shot back. “So stop acting like you do.”
“I can't!”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because I don't wanna hurt him, okay? He may be engaged to someone else, but I still love him, and it kills me to cause him any pain. But I don't expect you to understand that,” she said with bitter scorn. “You don't know the first damn thing about wanting to protect someone you love. You don't even know what love is.”
Dominic's face hardened. “Maybe I don't.” He raked her with a scathing glance. “If this is what it looks like, you can have that shit.”
Tamia recoiled as if he'd slapped her across the mouth.
As he lapsed into stony silence, she glared out the window, wondering what the hell had possessed her to agree to spend the weekend with him.
“April twenty-first.”
Tamia turned from the window, eyes narrowed on his face. “What?”
“That's the date of their wedding. April twenty-first.”
Tamia's heart twisted.
Dominic met her wounded gaze. “I take it you didn't know.”
She swallowed painfully but didn't respond.
“They were interviewed after the prayer breakfast,” Dominic elaborated. “The reporter congratulated them on their engagement and asked them if they'd set a date. They have. April twenty-first.” He smirked at Tamia. “Guess that gives you four months to find out if love really
does
conquer all.”
Tamia glowered at him.
He chuckled.
Seething with anger and frustration, she twisted the engagement ring off her finger and unceremoniously chucked it into a cup holder.
“I'd hold on to that if I were you,” Dominic advised. “Might be the only ring you get for a while.”
That did it.
Tamia reached over and slapped him across the face. “Fuck you,” she spat.
He grinned insolently, rubbing his jaw. “I hope you will, love. I hope you will.”
 
The Ehrlichs' bed-and-breakfast was even more beautiful than the photos had depicted. Surrounded by rolling hills and lakes, the ranch sat on twenty acres of lushly landscaped grounds that featured rustic cottages with wraparound porches.
The Ehrlichs awaited Tamia and Dominic inside the lobby, where the wood-beamed ceilings and cozy furnishings set a warm, welcoming tone.
Tamia was impressed—and that was before she and Dominic were escorted to a luxuriously appointed suite with a private balcony that offered panoramic views of the valley. A fire glowed in the fireplace, and the mantel was adorned with potted poinsettias and glass bowls filled with frosted pinecones and holly berries.
“Wow,” Tamia exclaimed, looking around the room. “This is gorgeous, Grace.”
Her hostess beamed with pleasure. “Thank you, Tamia. I'm so glad you and Dominic could make it.”
Tamia smiled. “Thanks for having us. We appreciate your hospitality.”
“We certainly do,” Dominic chimed in, standing too close to Tamia.
Grace smiled warmly at them. “Every day at three we serve fresh-baked cookies, eggnog, and hot cider in the lobby. It gives us an opportunity to mingle with our guests and answer any questions they may have. After you two get settled in, you're more than welcome to join us.”
“Great,” Tamia and Dominic chorused. “We will.”
“Wonderful. See you then.”
As soon as Grace left, Tamia wandered into the private bathroom to look around. Taking inventory of the double sinks, spa shower, and Jacuzzi, she nodded approvingly. So far so good.
Returning to the room, she found Dominic sitting on the king-size bed.
Her eyes narrowed. “Don't get too comfortable,” she warned. “You're not sleeping there, remember?”
He grinned. “Come on, love,” he cajoled, running a hand over the sumptuously thick duvet. “See how nice and big this bed is? There's more than enough room for both of us.”
“I don't think so.” Tamia pointed toward the seating area. “That sofa looks real nice and comfy—and it has your name written all over it.”
“Oh, I don't know about that,” Dominic drawled, leaning back on his elbows. “This bed seems to be pronouncing my name
just
fine.”
“Then you need to get your hearing checked,” Tamia retorted.
Dominic laughed, rising from the bed. She watched as he sauntered across the room and opened the louvered plantation doors, then stepped out onto the balcony.
She followed him.
As they stood admiring the scenic view, Dominic marveled, “This place is off da chain. I can't understand why it's not more popular.”
“It's definitely a hidden gem,” Tamia agreed. “We'll have to do something about the ‘hidden' part.”
Dominic slanted her an amused look. “Are you gonna be able to relax and enjoy yourself this weekend? Or are you gonna be inspecting everything and looking for flaws like some undercover hotel critic?”
“I won't be looking for flaws.” Tamia paused. “Well . . . I
did
bring a pair of white gloves to check the furniture for dust.”
Dominic gaped at her, realized she was teasing, and burst out laughing.
Tamia grinned, resting her arms on the banister as a soft breeze washed over her face. It was a gorgeous winter afternoon, balmy for December.
Dominic smiled, watching her. “I'm glad you're speaking to me again. That ride up here was the longest damn ride of my life.”
“Good,” Tamia retorted. “Serves you right for being such an ass.”
“I know.” His voice softened. “I apologize for the things I said to you. I was trying to make a point, but I didn't do a very good job of it.”
“No. You didn't.”
Dominic grimaced. “I'm sorry for hurting your feelings. Can you forgive me?”
Tamia silently regarded him, eyes narrowed with suspicion. “I'm not used to this.”
“What?”
“Having you apologize to me. You're really serious about this whole ‘turning over a new leaf' thing, aren't you?”
He smiled. “I'm very serious. I wanna be a better man, Tamia. Better than the one you met nine months ago.”
She held his gaze for a long moment, then glanced away with a small smile. “Apology accepted.”
“Thank you.” He shifted closer to her. “I don't like it when you're mad at me.”
“Oh, please,” Tamia scoffed, rolling her eyes.
“It's true,” Dominic insisted. “You know I've always had a thing for you.”
“You had a thing for Mystique,” Tamia corrected.
“I still do,” he admitted, playfully bumping his shoulder against hers. “But Tamia's no slouch either. In fact, I think she's pretty damn special. If she was
my
woman, I'd never let her go.”
Tamia turned her head to stare at him.
He stared back.
After a long stretch of silence, Tamia stepped back self-consciously and smiled.
“Come on,
Dexter
,” she said, calling him by the alias he'd chosen, “let's go find some guests to mingle with.”
He smiled. “As you wish,
Zoe
.”
 
They headed down to the lobby, where they spent the next two hours playing the role of a man and woman who were crazy about each other. They sat together and shared a mug of hot spiced cider while a cozy fire crackled in the hearth and lights twinkled from a soaring Christmas tree. Two white couples, one from San Antonio and the other from Killeen, joined them.
They were warm and friendly, and because they didn't seem to recognize Tamia or Dominic, she found herself relaxing and enjoying their company. She asked them the typical getting-to-know-you questions, and was pleased when they expressed what a wonderful time they were having at the B and B.
When the questions were directed to her and Dominic, Tamia let him do most of the talking. She secretly marveled as he embellished details of their “engagement,” improvising with an ease that reminded her what an accomplished liar he was.
But she couldn't deny that he was also funny and irresistibly charming. Nestled beside him on the sofa, she didn't mind the heavy warmth of his arm around her shoulders or the heat of his muscular thigh pressed to hers. She didn't mind the way he absently played with her hair, sifting his fingers through the tapered layers at the back of her neck. And when she offered him the mug of cider and watched him sip from the same spot where her mouth had been, it felt good.
It shouldn't have.
But, God help her, it did.

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