Okay, so perhaps there were two problems left to handle.
CHAPTER TEN
“YOU’RE an Instigator.” Tess’s accusation escaped in a low, furious whisper.
“No, I’m the Instigator.” Shayde scraped a hand across his jaw. “Correction. I was the Instigator. I just quit.”
She waved that aside as insignificant. “The Committee assigned you to make a match for me?”
“Yes.”
“You were supposed to match me with Grayson Shaw?”
He hesitated. “That’s a bit complicated,” he temporized.
“Why don’t you simplify it for me? Or don’t you understand simple?” She fired her questions in swift, staccato bursts. “Or is it even more simple than even you’re willing to admit... as simple as an inability to understand the concept of truth and honesty?”
She was furious. Full-blown, out of control, gloriously furious. Not that he blamed her. “I was given the job of instigating a romance between you and Grayson Shaw, but-”
“What gives you the right to set me up with anyone?” She stalked deeper into the room, his shirttails fluttering about her thighs. “Why don’t we start with that point?”
“What gave you the right to set up your two best friends?” he countered.
That stopped her, causing a momentary discomfort. “They asked me to. Sort of.”
He nodded. “That’s right. Someone made the initial request. Once it’s been made, the Committee investigates the matter and decides whether or not a bit of behind-the-scenes matchmaking is warranted.”
“And if it’s not?”
“No match.”
He could see her fighting exhaustion to put the pieces together. It didn’t take long. The second she did, she closed her eyes, exhaustion turning to pain. “Someone has to make the initial request.”
“Yes.”
She looked at him again, wrapping her arms around her waist. The defensiveness of her stance just about killed him. “Which means someone asked the Committee to find a match for me.”
“Yes,” he repeated.
“Who? “
“Sorry.” It would be worth more than his hide to answer that one. “Can’t help you there.”
“It’s Seth, isn’t it?”
“Does it matter?”
“No.” Her chin wobbled and he couldn’t stand still any longer. He started toward her, intent on gathering her in his arms and somehow setting everything right again. It was the wrong move to make. She jerked backward, fury blazing in her eyes. “Don’t. Don’t touch me.”
“Sweetheart—”
“Why did you quit your job with the Committee?” she demanded. “Was it because you slept with me? Am I now a conflict of interest? ‘Oops, sorry, fellas. I decided to give into lust instead of setting her up with Prince Charming?’”
The first ripple of anger penetrated his iron control. “Yes, I quit because of our relationship. Yes, you’re a huge conflict of interest. And yes, I gave into lust instead of setting you up with Prince Charming, mainly because they’d chosen the wrong prince.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong with Gray?”
“He’s not for you.”
“I think that’s my decision to make.”
The ripple of anger spread, intensifying with each passing moment. “You made your decision tonight.” His voice sounded as if he were grinding glass between his teeth. “You made it when you took me into your bed.”
“I think tonight has proven I made a terrible mistake.”
“Don’t give me that. You’re not attracted to Shaw. You want me and we both know it.”
“I happen to think Gray is a very appealing man.”
It was the simple truth and it grated more than Shayde would have thought possible. The ripples of anger became waves, snapping his control. “Well, give it up. He’s not interested in you.”
She stilled. “Now how would you know that?”
Shayde swore beneath his breath. He was making a total hash of this. How was it possible that he could set into motion perfect matches for every other person he’d been assigned, but when it came to his own, he’d managed to all but destroy their relationship. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“How do you know?”
“I know because he told me there’s someone else,” Shayde reluctantly admitted. “We’re old friends, remember?”
“Did you ask him whether he wanted me? Did you get his permission before taking me to bed?” she demanded. “Is he in on this whole matchmaking scheme of yours?”
“Calm down, Tess.” Shayde thrust a hand through his hair. He desperately needed time to figure out how to explain everything to her—without having his head handed to him. One look at Tess warned he wouldn’t get that time. “Gray’s not in on anything. He didn’t know the Committee had selected him for you, any more than you did. And what you don’t realize is that—”
“I want my name taken off the list.”
“It’s already off.”
“Thank you.” She stepped clear of the doorway. “You can leave now.”
He shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until you listen to me.”
“There’s nothing left to be said.”
“Wrong. There’s plenty left to be said.”
“I’ve asked you to leave. Please go.”
If her voice hadn’t broken on that final word, he’d have continued arguing. Instead, he gave in to her request. “Fine. I’ll leave. But just so you know, Grayson Shaw wasn’t the Committee’s choice. He was a smoke screen.”
“Then who...?” Her eyes widened. “You? They thought you’d make the perfect prince?”
That stung. “Are you saying I wouldn’t?”
She started to reply, then closed her mouth, staring down at her bare toes.
“I’m glad you’re willing to admit that much.”
Her head jerked up again. “I’m not admitting a thing,” she denied.
Shayde fought to maintain a facade of calm, with a touch of logic and reason thrown in for good measure. Tess made that close to impossible. Her hair flamed around her face, every bit as fiery as her anger, while her eyes expressed a bottomless ache that he didn’t have a hope in hell of soothing. Everything about her distracted him, providing a stark contrast between her anger and her vulnerability.
Her mouth remained red and swollen from his kisses, the softness in direct opposition to the rebellious tilt of her chin. Her skin was deathly pale, while hot color rode her cheekbones. Even the defiant manner in which her hands closed into fists conflicted with the defenseless way they disappeared beneath the dangling cuffs of his shirt. He wanted to hold her, reassure her, drag her back to bed and use every means at his disposal to explain his betrayal. But it wasn’t going to happen that way.
Logic. He’d have to stick to logic and reason, even if the ability to remain calm escaped him. “Why is it acceptable for you to go to the Committee and have them instigate a match on behalf of your friends, but it’s not okay for someone who loves you, who has your best interests at heart, to do the same for you?”
“Raine and Emma asked me to do it,” she maintained. “I didn’t ask anyone to find a man for me.”
“That’s a load of bull and you know it. You discussed setting each other up when you were a bunch of giggling teens fresh out of high school. A full decade’s gone by. Have you checked with them recently?”
Judging by her expression he’d scored a hit with that one. “No,” she reluctantly admitted. “I haven’t.”
“Because they might have stopped you, right?” She couldn’t deny it and he pressed home his advantage. “Think about it, sweetheart. How is this matchmaking attempt any different from what you requested for them? If you hadn’t overheard my phone conversation, you’d never have known the Committee had taken an interest in you, just as your friends will never know we’re instigating romances on their behalf.”
“But I di
d find out.”
“Yes, you did. And what did the Committee do that was so terrible? They had me throw Grayson Shaw in your path. What happened afterward was up to you.”
“Nothing happened!”
“There’s a reason for that.” He started to reach for her and stopped himself at the last instant. She wouldn’t welcome his touch at this juncture and he refused to force himself on her. “Don’t you get it? The choice was always yours, Tess. As it turns out, you rejected Grayson.”
“And chose you, their actual match. And hasn’t that worked out just great?” She backed away from him, her expression closing over. “Tell your Committee that I’m rejecting their match. You can also tell them not to throw any more Prince Charmings my way. I only need to trip once to know it’s time to get off the path.”
“You’re making a mistake.”
Her mouth compressed into a-stubborn line. “It’s my mistake to make.”
“Dammit, Tess! Are you going to give up on something it’s taken you all these years to find again? Are you going to allow fear to win?”
She turned on him, her fury reigniting. “This isn’t fear. It’s anger.”
“And you have every right to be angry. But don’t let temper drive you to lose out on something unique. I promised I wouldn’t leave you and I won’t. I’ll always be here for you, Tess.”
“You also promised to catch me if I fell.” She tugged his engagement ring off her finger and held it out.
“What I didn’t expect was that you’d be the one to push me.”
“I’m also the one who’ll break your fall.” He could feel her tension escalating and knew she couldn’t handle much more. Staying wouldn’t help the situation. And it sure as hell wouldn’t help Tess. Only one thing would and he resigned himself to that unpalatable fact. He took the ring and pocketed it. “Okay, sweetheart. I’ll leave. For now. All this does is put an end to a pretense. The next time my ring hits your finger-and it will hit your finger again it’ll be for the right reasons.”
He didn’t attempt to touch her. Exiting the room, he took a minute to retrieve the rest of his belongings. He’d make do without his shirt. Somehow he didn’t feel like stripping it off Tess as his parting gesture. All the while she remained in the den and he forced himself not to go back in there after her. Leaving the house, he closed the door behind him and stood silently on the porch, waiting. An instant later the dead bolt snicked home in the front door lock.
The symbolism didn’t escape his notice.
Shayde drove aimlessly through the darkened streets, the throaty purr of the Jag a soothing accompaniment. He should have told her. The minute he’d decided to stop being an Instigator and go after Tess himself, he should have told her the truth.
So why hadn’t he?
He pulled up to a stoplight and stared blindly ahead. A fine rain began to fall, misting the front windshield. The red from the traffic light gleamed within each individual droplet, like dozens of miniature warning beacons. He hadn’t told her the truth for one simple reason. He’d been afraid. The irony forced a harsh smile to his
lips. It would seem he and Tess shared a rather unfortunate trait. Just as she’d kept her distance from men out of fear of loss, he’d kept his silence out of fear that she’d dump him the instant he told her he worked for the Committee.
The light turned green and he eased the car into first gear. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach as he faced a truth he wanted to deny with every fiber of his being. There was the strong possibility he wouldn’t be able to fix what had gone wrong in their relationship for one simple, disastrous reason....
“First, you didn’t tell her you were the Instigator, and then you didn’t tell her who you really are,” he muttered beneath his breath. “And that, buddy boy, is what’s really going to hang you.”
She might have forgiven the first betrayal. But she’d never forgive the second. He flipped on the wipers as he ran through his options, the gentle swish combining with the hiss of tires on wet pavement to play an odd duet. As far as he could tell, there was only one option available to him-an option that would help her, even if it didn’t help their relationship. He jammed the car into the next gear. To hell with their relationship. He’d made a mess of that. The time had come to put her welfare first. If there wasn’t any hope for them, then the least he could do was ensure she received her promotion.
That decided, he turned the car toward home, the wipers flicking back and forth. “No hope,” they droned, much to his irritation.
“Still hoping,” he retorted.
“Come in, Tess.” Al Portman greeted her with a broad grin. “Have a seat.”
“Thank you for seeing me.” She perched on the edge of the chair in front of her boss’s desk, fighting back a wave of apprehension. “I wanted to update you on a few matters.”
“No problem. But first, I’d like to congratulate you on your promotion.” He leaned across his desk, holding out his hand. “As of an hour ago you were officially appointed Altruistics newest vice president.”
Tess fought to hide her dismay as she shook hands with him. “Should I assume you’ve received a donation from one of the Impossibles?”
Without a word, Portman flipped open a file centered on his desk and removed a check. He shoved it toward her. “See for yourself.”
She read the amount neatly typed in the appropriate space on Gray’s bank draft and turned pale. “Very generous.”
“We thought so.”
“But there’s something you should know-”
“Ah, but I’m not finished, yet.” He removed another check from the file and deposited it next to Gray’s. “Mr. Smith has come through, as well. And his is even more generous than Mr. Shaw’s.”
Oh, no. This was a disaster. She couldn’t let her boss think she’d acquired the money through fair means. Not when she hadn’t. “Mr. Portman, before you go any further, I think you should know there’s been a conflict of interest in regard to those donations. If you’re basing my promotion on these two checks-”
He offered a reassuring smile. “We knew about the conflict of interest. Mr. Smith explained the situation to us and we don’t have a problem with it.”
She took a deep breath. “But I do.”
Portman nodded. “Mr. Smith warned me you’d say that, too.”
“Then—”
“And I’d be sympathetic to your dilemma, except for one small detail.”
“Which is?”
He removed a final check from the file and set it gently on top of the other two. “This.”
The signature at the bottom read Walt Moore. And it was the largest check of the three. “I don’t believe it.” She released her breath in a long sigh. “He came through.”
“He came through because of you, Tess, and the conversation you had with him about Robert. The other two may have contributed because the gentlemen involved were hoping to please you. But Mr. Moore’s donation is a result of your hard work and effort, because he feels the cause is just and his money well-spent.”
She sagged back against the chair. “I did it.”
He chuckled. “Yes, Tess. You did it.”
“And...” She moistened her lips. “And Mr. Smith?”
“I think you’ve found yourself someone very special. I wish you all the best.”
Tears pricked her eyes. Not precisely vice presidential behavior, but she couldn’t seem to help it. “That may be a little premature.”
“I hope not. Tess...” He frowned as he gathered up the checks. “Did you ever wonder why I insisted you turn an Impossible before giving you the promotion?”
“It’s not required of all your vice presidents?” she asked lightly.
“No.”
Something Shayde said came back to haunt her. “Is it because of Robert? Did you hire me originally so I’d use his death to drum up new business?” The question came out more bluntly than she’d planned. But once asked, she didn’t back away fro
m it. “Is that why you picked me over other, more qualified candidates?”
Portman looked shocked. “Absolutely not. If anything, your husband’s death gave me pause. I didn’t want to hire a zealot. I wanted someone on my staff who could understand the desperation of our need and convey that in a professional, compassionate manner. You were the perfect person for the job.”
“I’m sorry.” Tess shook her head. “I don’t understand. If this wasn’t an attempt to get me to use Robert to turn an Impossible, then—”
“Actually, this is about Robert.” He shifted in his chair, appearing more uncomfortable than she’d have thought possible. “I have to admit it’s a bit unprofessional of me.”
“Unprofessional?” she teased gently. “You, Mr. Portman?”
“Don’t you think it’s time you called me, Al?” His smile held an element of compassion. “I asked you to turn an Impossible because I knew it was the only way for you to come to terms with your past. I knew you’d only be able to turn one of the three individuals I’d assigned if you told them about Robert, something you’d never done before with any other client or donor.”
“And if I opened up to them about Robert...?”
He gave her a direct look. “It would mean you’d finally put the past where it belonged. In the past. It would also mean that you could judge when it was appropriate to discuss the circumstances surrounding your husband’s death with people in need of your empathy. People like Walt Moore. And it would mean you were ready to move forward with your life and with your career. That’s the woman I wanted for my next vice president.”
“In other words, I’d have stopped trying to make up for Robert’s loss by fulfilling his dreams,” she murmured, “and start fulfilling my own. And I’d have stopped being afraid to connect with other people for fear that I’ll lose them.”
“I apologize, Tess. It wasn’t fair of me to put you through that without some sort of explanation. Blame it on an old man watching silently from the sidelines all these years and finally deciding to act, instead of watch. I hope you can forgive me.”
Day Leclaire - The Provocative Proposal Page 15