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because he hadn’t wanted his son to rise too quickly in the family business. And that same month, he divorced Darius’s mother and married the aforementioned undergraduate. Apparently the economics professor hadn’t been the only man she’d been blowing behind Darius’s back.
    In every one of those experiences, Darius had been mad as hell. But not one compared to the fury that consumed him as he stood next to Daniel Harrison and witnessed the disregard and cold rejection of his oldest daughter. Correction: stepdaughter , as the businessman had been quick to point out when Darius had inquired about her.
    Blood relation or not, she deserved more respect than Daniel had granted. Before considering partnering up with Harrison Companies, Darius had researched the huge chain. Numbers didn’t lie. The business’s main income was derived from the women’s fashion division. And its success could be directly attributed to Rowyn Jeong.
    Of course when he’d read her name on his reports, he hadn’t realized the departmental head and the woman he’d nearly killed himself fucking six months ago were one and the same.
    He paused inside the entrance to the living room they’d congregated in earlier. She stood at one of the long, oblong windows, staring out into the darkness. For the moment they had the room to themselves. Her parents had been held up by their housekeeper, and Cindy had excused herself, most likely too polite to say she needed to go to the bathroom.
    As he stared at the proud line of Rowyn’s spine in the simple but stylish wine-red sheath, Darius was thankful for the time to study her. Ramrod straight. Unbending. A perfect description of the woman he’d spent the evening sitting across a dinner table from. With a reserve that rode the edge of detachment, Rowyn had dined quietly while her stepfather alternated between boasting about his company and rhapsodizing his younger daughter’s virtues, her mother complained and emptied glass after glass of wine, and her stepsister chattered nonstop about…hell, whatever. He’d stopped listening after the first mind-numbing round of local gossip.
    Through the long dinner hour, Rowyn had appeared untouched, even indifferent. Yet, sitting across from her, he’d spied the flicker of hurt that had darkened her eyes at Daniel’s callous rebuff. And he’d detected the minute cracks in her armor as Pamela delivered well-aimed jabs and cutting remarks.
    “For an educated woman, you have nothing relevant to add to this conversation.” “I wish you would do something with your hair. No wonder a man isn’t attracted to you.” Jesus. It almost seemed as if she disliked her daughter. He had wanted to jump in and demand the older woman lay the fuck off. He’d wanted to catch Rowyn’s gaze, assure her that she wasn’t alone in this battle that masqueraded as dinner. But Rowyn had studiously avoided making eye contact with him, and he’d had to swallow his disappointment along with the Sir Galahad syndrome that had reared its chivalrous head.
    He could have saved his worry, though. Rowyn had taken her mother’s verbal stabs in stride. If he hadn’t been studying her so closely, he would have missed the slight tightening of her lips and the small tilt of her chin.
    Who was Rowyn Jeong? The contained, aloof businesswoman? Or the sensual, uninhibited lover who had disappeared without a hint to her existence except for the lingering scent of sex on his bedsheets and a beautiful necklace and pendant?
    Determined to find out, Darius stepped forward. He noticed her back stiffen as he approached, but she didn’t turn around to face him. He didn’t pause until the lapel of his jacket grazed the deep red satin of her dress.
    He shoved his hands in the pockets of his slacks. It was either that or grab her arms, turn her around, and lick the curve of her plump bottom lip before sliding his tongue deep into the mouth he’d had wet dreams about.
    Their eyes met and held for a brief