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who was a seamstress by trade. Her creative designs were proudly worn by her younger sister, but so far no one else had discovered them. She intended to change that.
    "I marvel at your passion. I've worked with many designers. Those with passion are the only ones with a chance for success. The business is too competitive. You have to be tough and determined to make it." His face revealed no emotion.
    "So, you inherited the business from your father?" she asked, very intrigued.
    "Yes, he groomed me for this business since I was a young boy. He always intended for me to take over some day. Unfortunately, that day came sooner than either of us planned. He had an undiagnosed heart condition and , two years ago, died of a sudden heart attack."
    Natalie saw darkness come over Tanner. He went more rigid and appeared stern, but she wouldn't have labeled it sadness or grief. She regretted asking such a personal question so soon. "I'm so sorry," she said.
    "He was a good businessman and had systems in place. He'd done a good job of training and interning me. Ideally, it would have been longer but it was sufficient," Tanner continued. He loved his father but he'd never had the luxury of experiencing grief over his death. He'd cried privately after the funeral. But to all appearances, he was a tower of strength.
    "Clarke Luxury Brands includes many of the top designers, right?" Natalie hoped she wasn't prying but fashion design, in any form, had her interest. And she wanted to know everything she could about Tanner. He was spellbindingly gorgeous and struck her as strong, both physically and emotionally.
    For some reason, she found herself strongly attracted to his stern, powerful countenance. Men aren't supposed to cry, she guessed. She'd heard that, but never had a close male relationship, so was all the more curious about Tanner's personality.
    "Yes, many of the top fashion designers fall under our business umbrella. But we also have companies that include fine jewelry, handbags and highly rated wines and champagnes," he explained.
    Natalie held up her flute before taking another sip of the exquisite, bubbly liquid and asked, "One of yours?" Tanner nodded but appeared unaffected by the notion. Natalie supposed it was a familiar occurrence for him, no matter how special is seemed to her.
    Tanner quickly tired of talking about himself. It was business and he was grateful to his father. There was no doubt that he'd continue the family tradition. Being one of the wealthiest billionaire's in the world had many advantages. Tanner valued his position and worked hard to expand the wealth so generously bequeathed to him.
    Right now, he was interested in only one thing -Natalie. She'd slipped through his hands once before. He'd no intention of letting that happen again.
    The nagging thought that he should leave her alone lost power over him the more he was with her. The magnetism he felt was not going to be so easily ignored. Maybe once, when they'd lived in different states, he could have let her life unfold as if he'd never appeared, but not now.
    They were together in New York and the urges that gripped Tanner from deep inside were overpowering. He faced the fact that he'd never be able to walk out of this restaurant and just leave her alone, even though he should.
    He'd left the night of the concert, so many years ago. He hadn't wanted to hurt her. She was so lovely and naïve and he'd been drawn to her without warning. Leaving that first night was a clear message that he wouldn't be good for her. Yet, she didn't seem to hold it against him. Nor, did she seem afraid of him. Quite the opposite, she was comfortable in his presence, which wasn't what he expected.
    Tanner reflected on the women he'd been with sexually. He needed sex and was clear on his preferences. He wasn't sure if Natalie would surrender to him and his demands. He didn't want to mar her innocence but his need was becoming paramount.
     

11 - The Invitation
    Natalie looked at