The Tycoon's Socialite Bride (Entangled Indulgence) by Tracey Livesay

I’ll offer a recommendation. She has a big heart. Don’t start something if you aren’t going to follow through.” She glanced over his shoulder. “You have a visitor.”
    His breath quickened and he cursed his body’s betrayal. The ratio of mental energy spent on the Holcombe deal versus Pamela Harrington was shifting daily, and not in the right direction. He stood to face her.
    “I’ll be out front. Take as long as you need.” Shelly came around the desk and squeezed Pamela’s arm. She left the office, closing the door behind her.
    “How did you know I was here?”
    He shrugged. “You weren’t at the hotel, so I guessed.”
    “You shouldn’t have come here. This isn’t the place for us to talk.”
    “I know, but I needed to apologize. I was an ass. It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last.”
    She arched a brow. “Is there some sort of Early Ass Detection System I could buy so we can avoid this scene next time? If I know what to look for, I can seek shelter or put on my armor to try to minimize the damage.”
    “I deserve that,” he said, nodding.
    “Yes, you do.”
    “I saw part of your workshop. I think what you’re doing here is great.”
    “Really?”
    “You were knowledgeable about your subject and gave strong practical advice.”
    “Abusers tend to isolate their victims, who usually come to a shelter with no money and no recent work experience. We want to do more than get them a job that will barely help them to survive.”
    “We’re still staffing some positions. I’ll give you the name of a contact in the HR department. If any of the women are interested, you can send them over.”
    “You would do that?”
    “If it’ll help.”
    “That would be wonderful.” She hesitated, then clasped his hand and squeezed.
    He liked the warmth of her touch, and laced his fingers through hers when she would have let go.
    She glanced at their hands and then at him. “Did you get the wedding plans I e-mailed you?”
    “I did.” He’d been surprised to receive the message from her this morning, especially because it contained an increased guest list, many of them business associates he wanted to meet and impress. “Thank you.”
    “There’s one little detail I didn’t include in my message.”
    “The president will officiate the ceremony?” he teased, swinging their joined hands between them.
    Her green eyes were brimming with excitement. “I talked to David Holcombe and he’s agreed to let us get married at the hotel.”
    Anger surged through him. He dropped her hand and he stepped back as if slapped. “You what ?”
    She blinked rapidly and searched his face. “You don’t want this? I thought you would be pleased.”
    “Why? Why there, of all places?”
    “I was trying to do what you would do. Like when you invited the Holcombes to the wedding. You want to buy the hotel. It’s the reason we’re getting married. And it’s available. Seemed like the perfect place to me.”
    Of course it did, but it wasn’t. Not to him. It had been years since he’d visited the hotel and it called forth terrible memories. He hadn’t wanted to darken those doors until the building belonged to him and he’d fulfilled his promise to his mother.
    A weight settled on his chest. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to get married at the hotel, but since Pamela already had permission, would Holcombe be offended if he didn’t?

Chapter Nine
    The sharp crack ripped through the air as bat connected with ball and sent it soaring into the sky. The crowd roared to its feet as the Washington Nationals took the lead, three players crossing the plate.
    Pamela leaned against the railing, admiring the view that stretched out before her: the alternating shades of green that crisscrossed the spacious field, the vivid Technicolor that flashed on the enormous scoreboard, and the enthusiastic fans who cheered their hometown team. There was a palpable swell of excitement, and she allowed it to