The Tycoon Meets His Match

by Barbara Benedict

  “Thanks, but you’ve already put it quite succinctly.” With a heavy sigh, Trae nodded at the front door. “If you love someone, sometimes you just have to let him go.”

  “What happened to your head?” Lucie asked, pointing to the bandage on his forehead.“It’s nothing.” Rhys shrugged. “I got in a fight.”

  “You?” She tilted her head, clearly confused. “I’ve never even seen you argue.”

  “There’s a lot about me you’ve never seen.” Before being plunged into this madcap adventure, he’d been too intent on bottling up his emotions, sacrificing his own needs and wishes for the good of his family and business. Amazing how much his life had changed in the space of a mere week.

  “Rhys, what’s going on? You’re starting to worry me.”

  “Am I?” All at once, her inability to see past her own worries was too much for him. “Don’t you think it’s a bit overdue? Couldn’t you have shown a bit of concern when you left me at the altar?”

  She winced, but it wasn’t enough for Rhys. “Bad enough to leave me alone to face all those people, but you let me chase you cross-country and back, sick with worry, not knowing if you were dead in a ditch somewhere. Not a call, not an e-mail, nothing.” He knew he was ranting now, but it felt good—no, necessary—to get it all off his chest. “If you must know, I’m fed up to here with being the good guy, Luce. I no longer have it in me to be calm and rational and understanding. What you did to me was wrong.”

  “I know,” she said, biting her lip and looking away. “I’m sorry, Rhys, truly I am, but I was scared and confused and so full of doubts.”

  “And you think I wasn’t?”

  “You’re never confused or doubtful,” she said, sounding almost indignant. “Everything you do is according to plan.”

  He remembered Trae making the same accusation. For some reason, it merely made him angrier. “Yeah?” he said, for once speaking before carefully weighing each word. “You really think I planned to sleep with your best friend?”

  Clearly stunned, she backed into the nearest chair and plopped down into it. “You…and Trae?”

  Damn, this was a far cry from how he’d wanted to break it to her. Gazing down at her shocked features, a wave of tenderness overtook him. How many times had he cradled her, murmuring assurances, his mind racing with the ways he could make things right?

  This time, there would be no fixing things. Whether she realized it or not, they’d both reached a fork in the road and were now headed in different directions.

  Lovely little Lucie, the girl next door. But looking at her now, he realized that he’d loved her more like a sister than the woman he wanted to make his wife.

  He squatted down in front of her, taking her hand, touching the engagement ring on her finger. He remembered them picking it out, he with cold, practical efficiency, Lucie distracted by a pair of pearl earrings. An expression of their love, the jeweler had called it, but eyeing the diamond, Rhys still could find nothing warm on its hard, reflective surface. “Ah, Luce, what are we doing here?”

  She blinked at him, more bewildered than ever. “I—I don’t know anymore. I mean, I’ve spent most of my life knowing we’d get married someday. Now it doesn’t seem likely, does it?”

  “No,” he said, feeling both sad and free at the same time. “No, it doesn’t. Let’s face it, Luce, we don’t love each other enough. Not in the way it counts to make such a long-term commitment.”

  She started to protest, but he put a finger on her lips. “You made a pretty clear statement when you fled from the altar. You felt trapped, you had to escape, and that’s no way to start a marriage. I’m sorry, Luce, but I don’t want to end up like my parents. When I get married, I want to be madly, deliriously, head-over-heels in love.”

  Nodding with a tearful smile, she slipped the ring from her finger and placed it in his palm. “You sound like Trae,” she said with a sniff. “Did you really sleep with her?”

  “It just happened, Luce. One minute we were…”

  It was her turn to put a finger on his lips. “It’s okay, Rhys. You don’t have to explain. Actually, I’m rather happy it’s Trae. I always said you two should like each other.”

  “Really? How could you come to that conclusion when we were barely civil to each other?”

  Taking his hand, she closed his fist over the ring. “I guess even back then you two had more chemistry between you than we ever had. I can’t say I’m not going to miss you, but you’re right. It would never work out between us. I love you, Rhys, I always will, but it’s more like the way I’d feel about a big brother. I was wrong to insist we get married. I should have released you from your promise a long time ago.”

  Rising to his feet, Rhys gazed down at the woman he’d almost married. For all his adult life, his every plan had centered on Lucie. She’d been his focus, the anchor of his existence, and just like that, it was over.

  Funny thing, though. You’d think he’d feel lost and adrift, but all he felt was a profound sense of relief. And he understood how Lucie must have felt, running away from their wedding.

  “You sure you’re okay with this?” he asked her.

  Smiling broadly, she stood up to kiss his cheek. “I want you to be happy. But you know,” she prodded gently, “you’ve neglected to mention the most important thing of all. Tell me, Rhys, do you love her?”

  He found himself grinning. “Madly. Deliriously. Head over heels.”

  “Then what are you doing wasting your time here with me?” She pushed him gently on the shoulder. “Go get her.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  T rae stared at her computer with a sigh of satisfaction. Fifteen solid pages of her new novel. A good start, despite the interruptions, including a mandatory visit to the Andrelini household.

  She smiled ruefully. Riding home on the plane, she’d come to the conclusion that if she wanted anyone to take her writing seriously, she’d have to show—not tell—them how important it was to her. So she’d gone to her parents’ house, armed with her gift for CiCi, but she’d refused to stay for dinner. She had a book to write, she’d announced to her stunned family, and she meant to finish it before the end of summer vacation.Her mother had protested—and called three times since—but Trae remained firm. Nobody said anything when Vinny had to go work at the airport, she’d insisted, or Eddie got called to a fire. Writing was her work, her calling, and if it took up her every free hour, they’d just have to learn to accept it.

  Her mom had tried her usual, “But when is my only daughter ever going to get married?” Throat going tight, Trae warned her that there might never be a wedding.

  How could there be? The only man Trae wanted was already taken.

  Pushing away from the desk, she’d refused to get maudlin. It wasn’t all bad. She was a better person for the week she’d spent with Rhys and hopefully, a better writer. And how could she begrudge him his happiness with Lucie, now that he’d finally have all that laughter to fill up the empty rooms of his house?

  She wanted the man she loved to have everything he’d dreamed of—even if it was with someone else.

  She had to be strong, she wanted to be brave, but darned if her eyes didn’t start filling up again. Crying had become a familiar hazard in the day-and-a-half since she’d last seen him.

  Dabbing at her eyes, she went into the kitchen alcove to make a bracing pot of coffee. Might as well keep working, pull an all-nighter. Wasn’t as if she was looking forward to climbing into her big, empty bed alone.

  “I’m sure gonna miss you, Paxton,” she whispered to the wall.

  As if in answer, there was a loud knock at the door.

  Ripping off a paper towel, she wiped her face dry as she strode to the door. No doubt her mom had given up on the phone campaign and had sent one—or all—of her brothers to come get her. The last thing Trae wanted was their teasing, or their third degree, if they came here and caught her crying.

  “It won’t work anymore,” she said angrily as she undid th
e chain, lock and two dead bolts her parents had insisted on installing. “You can march right back home and tell her I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  But as luck would have it, it wasn’t her brothers she faced when she flung open the door. Standing on the other side was a stunned and blatantly concerned Rhys Paxton. “Lucie called you?”

  “Lucie?” Rather startled herself, Trae struggled to grasp what he could mean. “Uh, no, not Lucie. I was talking about my mom. I thought she’d sent my brothers.” Shaking her head to clear it, she gestured back at her computer. “I skipped Sunday dinner. I told them I had to write.”

  His sudden smile could have lit up the room. “Then in that case, mind if I come in?”

  This did nothing to help her regain her composure. “The place is a mess,” she tried to protest, but he’d already marched past her and into the living room area.

  “Looks great,” he said, but he wasn’t looking at her tiny studio apartment.

  Which, of course, flustered her more than ever. Trae was well aware of how she must appear, in her baggy sweat pants and ragged tank top, her hair haphazardly piled on her head and her eyes all puffy and red.

  Then again, he seemed a little worse for wear, himself. He wore the navy suit, but it looked as if he’d slept in it. Several times. His hair had that I-just-woke-up confusion, his eyes barely focused. And his beard hadn’t seen a razor in some time. Gazing at him, Trae barely refrained from blurting out, “What happened to you?”

  Instead she asked the second most obvious question, “What are you doing here?”

  He smiled again, lighting up the place, dwarfing it with his presence. Yeah, he might look like something the cat dragged in, but Trae had never seen anything more beautiful in her life.

  “I’m here,” he explained patiently, “because you left without saying goodbye and we happen to have several unresolved issues.” He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket. “Number one is the check. You left it on the seat of the limo.”

  Angry with herself for hoping he’d come to do more than settle old debts, she took the check from him and promptly ripped it up. “Our bet might mean I have to take your money,” she told him haughtily. “But nothing says I have to keep it.”

  “Vintage Trae.” He shook his head. “Guess I’ll have to find some other, more devious way to pay off that bet.”

  “Give it up, Paxton. I won’t take your money. Let’s just call it even and leave it at that.”

  He glanced down at the paper scattered at her feet. “That’s another issue, by the way. My money. It’s not who I am, Trae. I need to make that distinction.”

  She must have shown her confusion. Taking a step closer, he went on to explain. “You asked why I keep harping on Cancun. I thought about it long and hard the whole way here. I kept picturing us in that Mexican airport, you glaring at me like I was the enemy. The Establishment. Not a person with hopes and fears and goals of my own. Dammit, Trae, I didn’t rush down there to flaunt my wealth, to lord it over you. Believe it or not, I was only trying to help.”

  Thinking back, Trae could see how hers might have been a bit of reverse snobbery.

  “Maybe I have put too much emphasis on that incident,” Rhys went on, “but let’s face it, so have you. You’re still defining me by my money. After this past week, I’d have hoped you could see the man I am inside.”

  If he only knew what she could see. Even back in college, she conceded, she’d seen enough to be afraid. From the very beginning, he’d had a strong effect on her.

  “Take my money, Trae,” he said, stepping up to her and pulling a second check out of his pocket. “Prove that this never again has to be an issue between us.”

  She stared at the check for a long, painful moment, all too aware of the finality of the moment. Once she took it from his hands, he’d be out the door and out of her life forever. Yet she also knew what it meant to him for her to accept it.

  “Thanks,” she said simply, putting the check on the table beside her.

  “You’ll cash it?”

  “Yes, Paxton. I’ll deposit it in my account first thing in the morning.”

  “Good,” he said, looking relieved. “You’ll need to get a dress for the wedding.”

  Could he be any more insensitive? He had to know how this was killing her. “I doubt I’ll be going this time. Pretty tacky, really, to show up after what I did to Lucie.”

  “Lucie wasn’t at all upset by it. She said she’ll never be able to feel that way about me. To her, I’ll never be more than an adored older brother.”

  “And you’re going to marry her, anyway?”

  “No, I’m not. And even if she hadn’t admitted her true feelings to me, I was going to admit my true feelings to her. So, no, I wasn’t talking about Lucie’s wedding, I meant ours.” Going serious all of a sudden, he took her by the arms and gazed deeply into her eyes. “I love you, Trae. I need to have you in my life.”

  Her throat felt so tight, all she could do was gape at him. “But Lucie…”

  “…is determined to make her own way in life—without me.”

  “But the office…”

  “…can do just fine. I canceled some of the meetings and left Jack to handle the rest. As you said, he needs me to be a little more trusting.”

  “But your business…”

  “…can wait while I take care of what truly matters. I’m told that’s all any woman wants from her man,” he added, his gaze searching hers. “To know that she always comes first.”

  Trae could feel the moisture well up in her eyes. “I can’t believe this.”

  “You’d better believe it. I just spent the most torturous eighteen hours of my life trying to get to here. Turning around, finding you gone, I’ve never felt so devastated. It was as if all that meant anything had suddenly gone missing.”

  “But we were together only a week.”

  “But in that time, you became my world. You made me laugh, coaxed me into taking chances, showed me how life has so many more colors than black and white. I never realized how contained I’d been, how stifled, until you showed me passion.”

  His words resonated in her heart. He was right; they’d packed more into seven days than some people managed in a lifetime.

  “I know it sounds corny, but you really do complete me.” Smiling tenderly, he wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Isn’t it ironic? I’m more accustomed to being needed by everyone in my life. It’s not easy coping with the fact that I need someone else. I can’t make it without you. Please say you’ll marry me.”

  Trae’s head was spinning. “I love you, Rhys, more than I thought possible, but how can it last? My haphazard way of doing things is bound to drive you crazy, and we both know I’ll never back down from your ultimatums.”

  “We’ll compromise. We don’t have to get married right away if your pact is so important to you. We can live here, or at my place, or even both until you’re ready. Whatever you want, as long as we’re together.”

  It seemed too good to be true. Rhys, here before her, saying all the things she’d dreamed of and more. No wonder she couldn’t trust her emotions. “I just don’t think…”

  “No more thinking,” he said firmly, putting his arms around her and pulling her closer. “Start feeling instead. I’m willing to bet we can find some way we’ll both be happy.”

  “Another bet?” she asked, snuggling closer, feeling as if her heart had just taken flight. “You got anything to offer as collateral?”

  Taking her hand, he laid it on his chest. “My heart,” he told her tenderly, then proceeded to prove that this time, he was going to win the wager.

  “Give it up, Trae,” he said after kissing her thoroughly. “Just say yes.”

  And six months later, after finally selling her first book…Trae did just that.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-0983-5THE TYCOON MEETS HIS MATCH

  Copyright © 2007 by Barbara Benedict

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