by Mari Carr
A wonderful woman he’d been lying to since the beginning and now all his lies were unraveling. Shaking his head, he realized she was never going to dismiss his lie as anything less than what it was—an outright deception. Now that she’d met his friends he deceit seemed even worse. No doubt, Meg would believe he’d been toying with her, making fun of her. Tara and Shelly weren’t going to ruin the best thing that ever happened to him. Rising, he raced to the door, startled to find Pierre, poised to knock.
“Pierre,” he began, “as you can see I’m on my way out.”
“Yes sir.” Pierre continued to block the doorway. “I beg just a moment of your time.”
“Pierre, this really isn’t a good time.”
“I understand. I saw Ms. Williams in the company of Ms. Thompson-Rhodes and her sister. No doubt you intend to join them.”
“Yes.” He was relieved not to have to explain his haste.
“Dressed as such?” Pierre gestured at his clothing.
Grimacing, he realized he was still dressed in his swimming trunks and the tattered T-shirt he’d pulled on just before opening the door to Shelly and the disaster she represented. No wonder Tara and Shelly had looked so shocked when he’d first opened the door. He never dressed in anything less than height of fashion. However, he’d toned down his appearance over the past couple of days so Meg would feel more at ease. It occurred to him now, however, that he was the one who’d been more at ease in the comfortable clothing.
“Damn.” He turned and tromped back to his bedroom. The sound to the door closing alerted him that Pierre had followed. Reaching into his closet, Rob pulled out his Etro Cargo pants and black silk shirt. Buttoning the shirt, he turned to find Pierre standing in the doorway. “Go ahead. Tell me what an ass I’ve been. I should have told her the truth. Say I told you so because, by God, you did.”
“I don’t think you were wrong.”
On a roll, Rob continued to rant. “I’ve been lucky to get away with such an idiotic lie this long. Hell, everybody on this fucking island knows me. I don’t know what possessed me to think I could—what did you say?”
“I don’t think you were wrong to lie to Ms. Williams.”
“But you said no good ever came from a lie.” Rob recalled the long conversation they’d had at the bar last night and he was astounded by Pierre’s admission, especially in light of the fact it was all about to blow up in his face.
“I think you’ve never known a true friend or even a true love. Someone who saw you as you truly were, not merely as an image displayed for public consumption. Very few people have ever seen through the mask you don to hide the true person inside. But Ms. Williams, she has seen inside you, yes?”
Rob nodded. “Yes.”
“And I assume she liked what she saw?”
“Amazingly, yes.”
“Then you weren’t wrong to lie to her,” Pierre stated. “However, you would be sincerely remiss in letting someone else–perhaps someone less careful–reveal your true identity.”
“I would, but Pierre, I’ve waited too long. How could I ever ask her to trust me when the whole basis of our relationship–short as it’s been–has been built on a lie?”
“Actually,” Pierre replied, “I would say–for the first time in your life–this is the only relationship not based on a lie.”
Considering Pierre’s words, Rob had to agree. Meg knew the true Rob Madison, the man underneath the money and power. She knew the man who liked corn dogs and horror movies, the man who hated vanilla and who read mystery novels voraciously. She knew his secret fondness for reality shows and folk music. She knew all of this because she’d listened to him, taken the time to get to know him and ask him about himself. She’d cared enough to get to know him—as a person of worth, not net worth.
“I have to go.” He was suddenly desperate to declare his love and his lie, desperate to stake the one claim in his life that meant a damned thing to him. He was a man known for never losing, never giving up. He would be that man now because if it took him until the day he died, he would marry Meg Williams. He wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life, spoiling her rotten and introducing her to everything she’d missed—snow skiing, Italy, art museums and rock concerts. He’d give her the entire world.
“Good luck to you sir,” Pierre said as Rob rushed toward the hallway.
“So you’re a teacher?” Shelly asked for the third time. Meg suspected she was merely repeating the fact until she was able to believe it. “Special education?”
“Yes.” Meg glanced toward the door for the hundredth time, wishing Rob would save her from the interminable company of these intolerable people. How on earth could he actually be friends with such a lazy, snooty, viperous lot?
“Retards, you mean?” Tara joined the conversation for the first time.
“No.” The hair on Meg’s arms stood straight up at the woman’s heartless words. “I do not teach retards. I teach children who are mentally handicapped.”
“Same difference.” Tara stifled a yawn as if to express her boredom with the current conversation.
“Not the same difference,” she added hotly. “Although I would say to someone with your limited education and level of compassion, it might seem so.”
“Excuse me?” Tara leaned forward, her face filled with malice. “I will have you know I attended one of the finest finishing schools in the country. No doubt you’re a product of public education.”
“And proud of it.”
Tara smirked at her response as Shelly shot Meg an appraising glance. Apparently, the older sister felt a threat the younger sibling didn’t. Meg decided Shelly was clearly the one of Rob’s friends she should be most wary of. Tara didn’t have two brain cells in her entire head, too wrapped up in her own self-importance to notice anyone around her. Seth was clearly an alcoholic, as she watched his polish off his fourth martini in ten minutes without batting an eye. He covertly caught the eye of the waiter who immediately brought him his fifth.
“I think teaching is an admirable profession.” Shelly shocked her with the seeming sincerity of her words. “I must confess, however, I’m curious as to how a teacher from Virginia managed to end up sharing a suite on a resort island with one of the most eligible billionaires in the world.”
At her words, Meg felt the breath leave her body. Billionaire? Of all the things, Shelly could say to blindside her, she had to admit the nasty woman had scored a direct hit. Aware the others were waiting for her response, Meg struggled to clear the lump that had formed in her throat.
“Ah, there you are,” a familiar, deep voice said behind her. Turning, she saw Rob, her lovable, dear new friend. Yet this time, she felt as if she was seeing him with different eyes. His clothing was casual enough, yet she suspected it cost top dollar. Judging from the distraught look in his eyes, she knew he’d heard Shelly’s last comment. However, she couldn’t help wondering if he was distressed by the comment or that she’d discovered his secret.
Tara bounced out of her seat at Rob’s appearance, clearly feeling victorious since the discovery that Meg was merely a teacher and no serious threat to her claim. “Rob Madison,” she purred. “You naughty boy, how could you leave me alone for so long?”
Rob Madison. The name bounced around in her brain until she thought it would explode. Madison hotels. Good God, she’d been shacking up with the owner of the stupid hotel that had screwed up her vacation plans. How could she have been so blind? The penthouse, the caviar, room service at two in the morning. Damn, even the limo proclaimed the truth—MAD 1. Of course, he was the owner. And what a laugh he must have been having at her expense. No doubt the poor little rich boy had decided to do a little slumming. And she had slept with him. Given him her trust and her body. God help her, she could be carrying his child.
She didn’t remember leaving the bar or walking toward the front door of the hotel. She didn’t remember walking out to the parking lot. She didn’t remember anything until she felt Rob’s ha
nd on her arm, yelling her name.
“Meg,” he shouted. “Dammit, Meg, you have to let me explain.”
“Explain,” she whispered, shock setting in. “Nothing to explain. I have to leave.”
“No,” he said, quieter now that she stopped walking away. “You aren’t going anywhere. Not like this.”
“Robert,” Tara’s voice sounded from behind her. “Let her go. I’m here now.”
“Tara.” Rob’s voice was filled with more menace than Meg had ever heard. “Get the fuck out of here right now before I have you escorted off my property by security.”
Meg heard Tara’s gasp and through the fog clouding her mind, she wondered if anyone had ever spoken to the rich bitch in such a manner.
“Come on Tara,” Shelly’s voice said. “I think it’s time we took our leave. I’m sorry, Robert.” Meg could hear the truth behind her words. What a waste, she thought with a humorless laugh. He was the one playing the game. He was the liar who had gotten exactly what he wanted from the dumb little hick from the sticks.
She felt the laugh continue, bubbling out of her in great, gasping hiccups. She laughed until she felt tears streaming down her face.
“Christ, Meg,” Rob exclaimed. “You’re killing me, sweetheart. Please don’t cry. I can’t take your tears. They tear me up inside.”
“Let me go,” she whispered, anguish rife in her voice.
“Never.” Rob lifted her into his arms, turning back toward the hotel.
Jerking herself from her self-pity, she struggled to get away. Flailing and kicking, she felt Rob fight to keep a firm grasp on her. In the midst of her thrashing, he shifted her, tossing her over his shoulder. She gasped when she felt his hand land hard upon her rear-end.
“Damn you!” She was aware of the scene they were making in the lobby, but she didn’t care. The ding of the elevator caused her to renew the fight, knowing her chances of escape would be severely limited if he got her back to the penthouse. Again, she felt his hand come down on her buttocks.
“Ouch!” she squealed. “That hurts.”
“Then stop fighting me. I’m going to talk to you and I don’t give a damn if I have to tie you to a chair and gag you to make you listen.”
“Oh no, Rob Madison.” Her voice was mocking as she said his true name. “You listen to me. I’m leaving. Put me down this second!”
He ignored her request as they entered the elevator and she continued to struggle, feeling more and more trapped as the elevator rose. Too soon, it arrived at the top floor and Rob carried her down the hall to his penthouse. His penthouse—not the company he worked for—the company he owned. Her anger returned full-force.
As soon as he shut the door behind them, he set her on her feet, bracing himself for her attack. If she hadn’t been so furious, she would have laughed at the sight of a man the size and stature of Rob Madison preparing himself for the blows of a woman who barely came up to his shoulder.
“How dare you!” She raised her fist and pummeled his chest. “Who the hell do you think you are to manhandle me like that? You lying, conniving bastard!”
He winced at her words and blows and she felt a sense of déjà vu as she lost control of her temper and her tongue, much like she did her first night on the island.
“You’re right,” he admitted softly. “I am a liar. I lied to you.”
“You’re damn right you did and right from the beginning.” She felt a bit stupid pointing out the obvious and backed away from him, desperate to get some distance between them. She was finding it hard to catch her breath around the lump that had lodged in her throat. Rob had lied to her. She’d trusted him and he had lied. Finally, her voice broke around the question she had to have answered. “Why? Why would you do that?”
“You didn’t recognize me.”
“So?” She was perplexed at his answer and her anger returned full-force. “What, did that piss you off? Are you so used to everyone knowing your face that you wanted to punish me for not worshipping at your billion dollar feet?”
“Good God, no. I liked that you didn’t know me.”
Confused, she just continued to stare, waiting for him to explain.
“For the first time in my life, I was able to get to know someone and let them get to know me without my name and fortune influencing things.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Maybe not to you. No doubt the friendships you’ve formed were made based upon mutual interests and compatible personalities and those relationships were built on trust. I constantly question the motives of the people who call themselves my friends because most people of my acquaintance don’t give a shit about me, only what I can give them. You met Shelly and Tara—they are prime examples of the type of women who travel in my circles. Shallow, self-centered, spoiled to excess.”
“But you aren’t like that,” she said, her temper beginning to calm.
His powerful words were chiseling through her wall of anger. His pain was palpable and she found herself wanting to reach out to him despite the fact he’d lied to her, hurt her.
“Ah, but there is the rub, my sweet Meg. Until I met you, I fear I was exactly like that.”
“I don’t believe that.” She turned away. She was livid with this man and yet here she stood, defending him, reassuring him.
Was she a glutton for punishment or what? If she had a brain in her head, she would get the hell out of here and leave the poor little rich boy to his own devices. But then a memory formed. The image of Rob following her into the bar Thursday night, offering her a drink and a place to stay. Offering to help her, despite the fact she’d looked like a drowned rat, despite the fact she’d attacked his driver and then him. No, she thought, he wasn’t like Shelly and her family. No matter what he might say, there was a lot of good in him. For all her faults, she considered herself to be a very good judge of character and despite his lie, she thought Rob was one of the kindest, most genuine men she had ever met.
Turning around, she watched him standing silently by the door, no doubt thinking he could bar her escape. His head was bowed and she saw how much her anger was costing him. Maybe there wasn’t such a thing as love at first sight. She didn’t deny their original attraction could be called anything other than lust. But somehow, somewhere, in the midst of all that lust, love had come. It was just as he had said. By getting to know him, by learning his personality and figuring out what made him tick, the love had grown. His compassion and generosity spoke to her. His sweet words and compliments warmed her lonely heart. He said she saw the true man behind the name, but he also saw the true Meg, the one she’d kept buried deep beneath the boring, sensible parts. The one who longed to live, to see the world, to love him.
Love him.
Taking a small step forward, she swallowed her wounded pride and approached him with her heart in her hands.
“I love you,” she whispered, silently wondering if anyone had ever sincerely offered him those words before.
Staggering back against the door, Rob’s head jerked up. His mind was sure his ears had deceived him. For a second, he thought–no he’d dreamed–that Meg told him she loved him. Looking up, he saw the same look in her eyes he’d come to covet as the weekend passed. The look he considered more valuable than all his property, all his possessions, all his money. Love. She loved him. Her lower lip trembled slightly and he realized how much courage it must have taken for her to confess her feelings to him. Once again, he’d done nothing to deserve the trust she constantly bestowed upon him.
Falling to his knees before her, he grasped her small hands in his own. “I love you, Meg and I’m so sorry. Sorry for everything. I promise if you’ll give me a second chance, there will never be anything, but total honesty between us.”
Her light, tinkling laugh shone over him like a glorious rainbow and he watched as she kneeled down to join him on the floor.
“Rob, I understand why you lied and there is nothing to forgive. You gave me a wonderful gift this weekend.
You gave me yourself, the true you. Your name doesn’t matter.”
“What about the money?”
“That doesn’t matter, either,” she replied seriously. “It’s just paper, honey. And that’s not what makes me love you. It’s you, the real you, that owns my heart.”
Laughing lightly at her casual dismissal of his billions, he leaned toward her. “I’d give it all away to charity if it was the only way I could convince you to marry me.”
“M-marry you?” Her voice stumbled over the words.
“Meg.” His grip on her hands tightened. “I don’t want just a weekend with you. I want a lifetime. I want you to be my wife and I want you to have my babies. I want to put down roots and have a real home with you. Will you marry me?”
Tears formed on her long lovely lashes and she merely nodded, speech obviously failing her.
“Is that a yes, Margaret?” He returned to his familiar teasing and she choked out a tearful laugh.
“Yes,” she whispered, before repeating the word louder. “Yes.”
Reaching out, he pulled her close to him, embracing her and his future with a heart that felt years younger and lighter than air.
“Thank God,” he whispered into her ear.
Epilogue
Rob looked at his wife in the center of the circle of dancers. Loosening the bowtie of his tuxedo, he grinned to see her having so much fun and wondered what his business associates would say if they could see him now. He was attending his very first high school prom as Meg had insisted he help her chaperone. She and her students had talked of nothing but attending the school dance since the beginning of spring and finally, the big night had arrived.