by Lucy Monroe
She grabbed a red turtleneck from the top drawer of the dresser she’d been using. She tugged it on over her head, pulling her hair in the process. She ignored the pain as she ripped it loose of the constricting neck on the top.
“Let me just clip back my hair.” She hadn’t looked at him once since realizing her mistake and she didn’t do so now either. She spoke to the wall in front of her as she headed for the en-suite.
“Don’t pull it back on my account. It looks beautiful down like that.”
She wanted to spin around and start screaming invective at him. Beautiful? She wasn’t beautiful. She knew it and he knew it. He didn’t want her. Not really. She didn’t know what he’d meant by telling her he wanted sex with her earlier. It had probably been some kind of joke. An amusing bit of sarcasm she should have recognized as such.
How could a woman with an IQ in the top two percent of the populace continue to be so dim about some things?
She didn’t bother responding to him as she walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. She needed a minute to collect herself. She needed a lifetime, but she could take a minute.
She searched for the light she hadn’t bothered to turn on before coming into the small room, found it and flipped the switch up.
The sudden brightness illuminated a picture in the mirror she could have gone forever without seeing again. Brown eyes dark with hurt and humiliation were opened wide to prevent the moisture gathering in the corners from spilling over. Her face was crimson with embarrassment, her mouth a tight line of pain.
It was a familiar sight. How many nights in the first year of her marriage had she tried to interest Lance in making love only to have him reject her for one reason or another? How many times had she stood in front of the mirror just as she was doing now and tried to see what was wrong with her?
The sad-eyed woman in the mirror was someone she knew intimately, someone she had vowed never to see again.
She’d promised herself, damn it. She was never going to let another man close enough to hurt her this way again. But she had and she was paying the price. The mire of humiliation was closing over her head, suffocating her with its terrifying inevitability.
She hated feeling like this. Hated it!
Suddenly the slide of satin against her skin was as painful as a hair shirt and just as effective a reminder of things she would rather forget. She ripped off her outer clothes, then tore the camisole and tap pants from her body and threw them with all her might into the garbage can beside the sink vanity.
She’d only started wearing pretty feminine undergarments in the last year, having cut every negligee she owned into shreds and disposed of them the second year of her marriage after a particularly brutal rejection from her husband. He’d told her that fat women shouldn’t expose so much of themselves to view.
Fat!
She had been five pounds under her ideal weight, but that hadn’t been good enough for her husband.
Why had she stayed married to the man so long?
She didn’t have an answer now, any more than she’d had the one hundred and ten other times she’d asked herself that question.
The closest she could come was to acknowledge that she’d grown up with the feeling that she had no right to be happy. She’d been unlovable to her family. It was only natural her husband had decided he didn’t love her too.
The pounding on the door brought her gaze away from the mirror.
“Amanda, are you all right?”
She must have been longer than she thought. “I’m fine. I’ll be right out,” she called in a credibly even voice.
The only way she could think of to mitigate the pain of Simon’s unwitting rejection was to prevent him from knowing how much he had hurt her. At least her humiliation wasn’t public, not like it had been with Lance.
She threw her clothes back on, not worrying about a lack of underthings. Simon wouldn’t know. It took her longer than usual to clip back her hair because her hands were shaking so badly. She had to get herself under control before she went out there. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply, concentrating on breathing in peace and breathing out her stress.
It was a psychological trick one of her friends from high school had taught her. Most of the time, it worked.
Amanda finished zipping up the leopard print suitcase. She’d been up since five that morning after sleeping very little the night before.
Simon had listened to the initial proposal in its entirety, had not interrupted when she outlined her thoughts on the best strategy for joining the two businesses. He had even allowed her to present the rest of her arguments in favor of the merger, all of it with very little comment from him. He hadn’t argued a single point, thus not giving her the opportunity to press her own ideas forward.
And she hadn’t cared.
She’d been relieved that he didn’t want to get into a major discussion because all she had wanted to do was finish the presentation and get away from him. She’d been back in her bedroom by eleven and had started packing five minutes after that.
She should stick around and try to bolster the arguments she’d offered the night before, but she couldn’t. While her job was the most important thing in her life, she could not stand the crawling sense of humiliation her mistake the night before had left her with. Not even for a major bump up in her five-year career plan.
She’d done all she could do.
If Simon wasn’t convinced, maybe Daniel should consider sending another negotiator to Port Mulqueen. Her stomach cramped at the thought, but she was leaving. Today. This morning. She had every intention of being on the first ferry off Simon’s island.
Fifteen minutes later, she went looking for Jacob to tell him she would be going. She found him in the kitchen.
He looked up when she entered, his wizened gaze taking in her perfectly pressed suit. “I’ll have blue corn cakes ready in a few minutes. Did you want bacon or sausage with them?”
“Neither, thank you.”
“It’s not a good idea to start the day without putting a bit of protein in you.”
“I’ll stop for breakfast when I get back to Port Mulqueen.” It was a lie. She knew she wouldn’t be eating any time soon, but the small deception didn’t hurt anyone and it would keep Jacob from haranguing her.
“You going to the mainland today?”
“Yes.”
“Will you be back in time for dinner?”
“I won’t be back at all. I came in to say thank you for your hospitality and let you know I was leaving.”
“Wasn’t my hospitality, missy. The bed you slept in belongs to the boss. He bought the food you ate.”
“Then please pass my gratitude on to him.”
“Why don’t you do it yourself? He’ll probably be down for breakfast before too long.”
Just the prospect of seeing Simon again made her sensitive stomach twist with nausea. “I don’t want to miss the ferry.” Good. Her voice was steady, professionally void of emotion. She even forced what she hoped was a credible smile to her lips. “Let’s be honest, Jacob, there’s no guarantee Simon will come down for breakfast at all.”
“Thought you were supposed to convince him about that merger Mr. Eric Brant wants.”
“Simon listened to the proposal last night.” And if Eric wanted the merger so darn bad, he could convince his cousin of its merits. Brant Computers stood to gain by the merger just as much as Extant Corporation did.
“And he agreed to it?” The incredulity in Jacob’s voice left her in no doubt how unlikely he found such a scenario.
“No.”
“Then shouldn’t you be staying to try to talk him into it?”
She didn’t know why Jacob cared about her business, but she wished he didn’t. “I’ve done what I could. I can’t force Simon to my point of view.”
“Seems like a pretty sloppy way to do business to me.”
Her tolerance and patience dried up at the same time. “This may come as
a debilitating shock to you, but what you think of the way I conduct my business is of no concern to me whatsoever.”
Jacob’s eyes narrowed. “No need to get snippy with me, missy.”
She closed her eyes and counted to ten. It worked in all the books she read. Real life was less disciplined. “You’re right, Jacob. I’m leaving now,” she said through gritted teeth, and then turned on her heel and did just that.
Simon walked into the kitchen, irritated by the anticipation he felt at the prospect of seeing Amanda.
“Good morning, Jacob.”
“Morning, sir.”
There was a pile of shiny fabric on the counter next to where Jacob stood putting blue corn cakes and bacon on a plate for Simon. The material was the same color as Amanda’s pajamas. The pajamas responsible for a night filled with restless sleep interspersed with highly erotic dreams.
“Is Amanda up yet?”
“Up and gone.”
“Gone?” Was she walking along the water again? She seemed to really enjoy doing that.
Jacob laid Simon’s plate of breakfast on the table. “Took the first ferry to the mainland.”
She’d probably gone to have a war council with Eric now that Simon had listened to her arguments. He wondered what her next step in her campaign to convince him would be. He should tell her now that he had listened to her proposal, there was no reason for her to stay on the island.
But what he should do and what he wanted to do were poles apart, especially after seeing her in that wet dream–producing nightwear.
“What time do we expect her back?”
“We don’t.”
Simon paused with a loaded fork halfway to his mouth. “What?”
“She’s not coming back, sir. Said to tell you she appreciated the hospitality.”
“The hell you say.”
Jacob just shrugged. “Thought she’d stay to do a little more convincing on that merger business. Told her so, but she pretty much told me to mind my own business.”
Amanda had left? Without saying goodbye? There was something about this situation that didn’t feel right. Like Jacob said, it made no sense for her to leave without making at least one more effort to convince him about the merger.
“Was there some reason she had to go back to the mainland so early this morning?”
“Don’t know, sir. She didn’t say anything. Just that she didn’t want to miss the ferry.”
Simon’s gaze slid to the clock on the kitchen wall. The ferry had left the dock twenty minutes ago.
Amanda was gone. Telling himself that was exactly what he wanted did nothing to alleviate the hollow sensation inside him.
Why the hell hadn’t she even bothered to say goodbye?
Jacob held up the pile of rich burgundy satin. “She left this behind.”
So it was her pajamas. “We’ll have to get it back to her.” His spirits lifted at the thought of having an excuse to see her again.
“Don’t know if she wants it. Found it in the garbage in the bathroom, sir.”
“You found Amanda’s pajamas in the garbage?” That didn’t make any sense. “Were they damaged in some way?” Maybe her woman’s thing had started last night and she’d been surprised by it, ruining the silk bottoms to the nightwear.
“Not a thing wrong with them, sir.”
“Then they must have fallen into the garbage by accident.”
“Could be. Don’t see how, but it could have happened.”
“Well, what do you think happened?”
“Think she threw them away, sir. She was meticulous in cleaning her other things from the room. Don’t see how she could have overlooked these.”
Simon measured Jacob with his eyes. The older man had a studiously blank expression on his face. Why had he brought the pajamas to his attention, if he believed Amanda had tossed them on purpose? More worryingly, why had she thrown them away?
The ferry announcement had ended several minutes ago, but the words were still echoing in Amanda’s head. Ferry service had been suspended until further notice. There had been an accident on one of the major routes and the single ferry that serviced Simon’s sparsely populated island had been re-routed to the busier one. Ferries didn’t have accidents, did they?
They were big. They traveled the same stretch of water over and over again. So, how had this happened?
More importantly, what was she going to do? The only public facility she knew of on the island was a small general store and deli—deli being a euphemism for a two-foot-long glass case with lunch-meats and potato salad on display. There was a single table with two chairs for customers to sit on. It was not somewhere she would be comfortable staying for several hours while waiting for ferry service to resume.
She could just stay where she was.
She grimaced. She’d been sitting in this poky little waiting room for two hours already. There wasn’t even a vending machine where she could buy a bottle of water. According to the ferry officials, it could be hours before service resumed. Considering how much she wanted to get off the blasted island, it would be just her luck that the ferry wouldn’t be available until the next morning.
Surely not. She tried to console herself with the thought that they had to have at least one trip to the mainland that day. She wasn’t the only one who wanted to get off the island. Okay, maybe she’d been one of three cars that had been in line for the morning ferry and the other two had left after the first announcement of delay. Looking around the now empty waiting room, she had to accede it was possible she was the only passenger desperate to leave the small island.
“You might as well go back to wherever you’ve been visiting, ma’am. It’s going to be a while before we get a ferry off the dock.”
She turned her head at the sound of the man’s voice. He was wearing the bright orange vest that indicated ferry personnel.
“How did you know I was visiting?” she asked, apropos of nothing.
“It’s a small island. Working the ferry, you get to know all the residents after a while, even the weekenders.”
“Oh.” What an intelligent response, Amanda. But she felt fresh out of intelligence at the moment.
“Who are you visiting?”
She thought about refusing to answer, but it wasn’t a state secret after all. “Simon Brant.”
The sandy haired man’s blue eyes widened. “He doesn’t have a lot of visitors, especially overnight ones.”
She made a noncommittal sound, not liking the implication of his emphasis on “overnight visitors.”
“The security at his place is pretty tight,” the ferry official remarked, obviously fishing for more information on the elusive islander.
Remembering Jacob’s insistence on making a visual identification the first time she visited, she had to agree. “I suppose he sees the need for it, being both an inventor and computer designer.”
It struck her that Simon had shown a lot of trust allowing her to stay in his home like he had. What if she had been a corporate spy for Extant, more interested in his designs than the merger? The thought brought forth a niggling memory. Daniel had commented on Simon’s current project like he knew what it was. How could that be true?
Jacob was as loyal to Simon as any person could be. She would stake her life on that. So, how had Daniel found out anything about Simon’s work? Or had he? Perhaps she had misunderstood what her boss had said. She’d been pretty hot about his suggestion she use her body for the cause.
“They say he’s a genius.”
She nodded.
“And eccentric.”
Her lips tilted in a wry smile. “You could certainly describe him that way. You said, they say. Don’t you know? Haven’t you met him?”
The young man shook his head. “He keeps to himself. Him and that old man who lives there with him.”
“Jacob is the housekeeper.”
“A security expert too, according to gossip.”
She looked more closely at the sandy-h
aired man. He looked young, but his eyes were filled with the avid curiosity of an inveterate gossip. “For not knowing him, you certainly know a lot about Simon.”
“Not as much as you do, I bet.” His smile once again implied an intimacy between her and Simon.
She wouldn’t let this one slide. “It’s strictly a business relationship.” Still smarting from her humiliating mistake in the other direction the night before, she was sharper than she intended to be.
The ferry official’s smile didn’t dim. If anything, he contrived to look smug. “He doesn’t bring business acquaintances to the island.”
“I suppose gossip said that too,” she said in scathing tones that once again went right over his head.
He shrugged. “Yep.”
“Well, he brought me and I can assure you there is nothing except business between Simon Brant and myself.”
“You’d say that wouldn’t you? Not wanting gossip and all.” His knowing look indicated that gossip about Simon’s houseguest would be rife on the island, regardless of what she might want.
She stood up, a sense of righteous indignation coursing through her. “Your implication is out of line, not to mention archaic in its perception of the relationship between men and women.” Taking a step toward the ferry official, she grimly enjoyed watching him back up. “This is the twenty-first century. Women are a fact of reality in the business arena. I suppose you think we should all stay home and pop out babies until menopause takes us over.”
He was starting to look seriously worried. “I don’t think that at all, ma’am. Lots of women work for the ferry service.”
“But you don’t think we have the education or the intelligence to compete in the technology industry. You just assume that a woman could not possibly have business dealings with Simon Brant because he’s a genius in a male dominated field. I resent that implication very much.”
“I didn’t mean that, ma’am.”
She ignored his lukewarm self-defense, now in the full stride of her ire. “I will have you know that I have a very successful career at Extant Corporation, a company on the forefront of design in the hi-tech industry. Furthermore, there are several women at the executive level with my company. It’s attitudes like yours that kept women in strictly supportive roles for so many years.”