by Claire Adams
I watched Corsica walk up the front steps of my home and knew I did not want to go out to dinner. It was all I could do to tear my gaze away from her long legs as her hips swayed.
"I'm going to go freshen up and change," she said. "It was really fun meeting your friends on that beach, but my hair is a mess. Meet back here in ten?"
I nodded. If any other woman had quoted me ten minutes, I would have laughed, but Corsica's easy beauty made it believable. Despite every strange situation I had thrown her in, she still looked perfect.
Except that few seconds after a kiss. Her eyes were hazy then, like the sky on a hot, humid day. And, I loved the look of her tousled hair. I almost called that out, but stopped myself just in time.
Did I have no shame? I was acting like a teenage boy around here and it was ridiculous. Growing up, I had had dozens of women in a wide range of ages throwing themselves at me for just a glimpse of my fortune. Then, I denounced all of that and found women attracted to my “bad boy” image. Now that I had both my image and my own fortune, I figured I should be irresistible.
Instead, Corsica seemed content with our business arrangement. She studied my lifestyle, the one she thought I was appropriating from Xavier, like it was out of a course book. I thought she hoped to reference back to these days as an anecdote to amuse and impress the future guests in her exclusive hotel.
I thought of Corsica in a hotel, stretched over crisp, white sheets, the traffic flow of some foreign city muffling our pleasures even with the windows wide open.
I didn't even glance towards my bedroom. I wasn't changing clothes and we weren't going anywhere. Instead, I spun on my heel and dug through every decorative cabinet until I found a variety of candles and a book of matches. I just had time to put music on and lean down to the light the fire when Corsica bounced back into the living room.
"I'm back to my little black dress, but, then again, I haven't seen you out of those khakis since we got to Monterey," she said.
"I'm fine taking them off if that's what you want." I grinned.
Corsica stopped. "This doesn't look like we're going to dinner."
I shook my head. "Nope. The birthday boy opted for some quiet time at home with his girlfriend."
She glanced over her shoulder. "But we're alone. You can stop pretending."
"I'm stopping pretending right now," I said. "Corsica, I want you. Ever since you bumped into me on the stairs in that dance club-"
"Oh, no, no, no," Corsica laughed. "You bumped into me, and this is far from our deal, Penn."
"Then, let's toss out the deal. It's over. Can we just have an evening, you and I? That's what I really want for my birthday."
Her eyes flared wide as I approached to take her hand. She resisted, but finally joined me in front of the warm fire. The wind had picked up outside and the waves crashed chilling sprays into the air. The droplets misted over the windows like rain.
"Don't you want to go out for dinner? Your boss was nice enough to make us that reservation," Corsica's eyes darted back and forth. "Or we could go meet up with your friends and celebrate."
I took her other hand. "Is it so hard to believe that all I want is to spend some time alone with you? We haven't had an unbroken minute together almost since I met you."
Corsica bit her lip. "Really? Why?"
I tugged her closer and lowered my lips to hers. "Because of this."
The kiss was electric, and I felt the current of it shake Corsica to the soles of her spindly high heels. The shocking need for her short-circuited my brain and my arms wrapped around her waist. We stumbled, and I turned so that when we tripped towards the couch, I broke her fall.
"You did that on purpose," she said with a smile. "Careful or you'll mess up my hair."
"That's exactly what I intend to do," I murmured and tangled my hands in those soft, honey-colored waves.
This time, Corsica did not resist. She lowered her smile to mine, and I felt the electricity bolt through both of us again.
I wondered if she still thought of me as a “bad boy.” I certainly liked disrupting her good-girl image. With that thought in mind, I slipped one thin strap off her shoulder.
Corsica pushed back again. "Penn," she muttered.
"Can't I have my birthday wish?" I asked, peppering her hesitant mouth with kisses. "I can't get you out of my mind. I need you."
She frowned and pushed up to sitting. Corsica smoothed down her hair, but I caught her hand before she could tug her dress strap back into place.
"We can go in my bedroom if you're worried about someone seeing us here," I said.
Corsica blinked and shook her head. Her frown deepened. "Penn, what is that?"
I twisted to see what she was studying and my stomach clenched. Behind me on the end table was a framed photograph of me with both my parents. I was young, maybe fourteen, and without my beard and tattoos, I looked exactly like my father. Xavier stood behind me, one hand on my shoulder, his other arm tight around Alice's waist.
"I can explain," I said, sitting up.
"No," Corsica gave a humorless laugh. "I probably should have seen it earlier, but I was, I don't know, waiting to get to know you better. I really wanted an evening with just you, too."
"Then, let's do that."
She held up both hands. "So, the only reason you don't have any money is because you won't forgive your father?"
I gaped as Corsica stood up. "What?"
She tossed her hair. "It makes sense. I mean, it matches this whole image you've got going. You're the penniless black sheep. You had some big fight with Xavier and he wants to make amends, but you won't let him."
"It's not so easy to forgive him," I grumbled.
"So what if it's not easy? What if it's the right thing to do?" Corsica put her hands on her hips and then threw them in the air. "Stubborn is not an attractive quality. Happy birthday, Penn. I hope you grow up."
I stood, but could not stop her. The words couldn't get past the lump in my throat. She finally saw exactly the image I wanted to project and it left me feeling hollow. What I really wished for was that Corsica would know all of me.
CHAPTER NINE
Corsica - 9
"Why would it be about the money?" I hissed into my phone. "I never thought he had any in the first place."
"Oh, please," Ginny snorted. "You were on board as soon as you saw him head up those VIP stairs in the dance club. You're a sucker for someone well-connected, and the most well-connected usually have money."
"That wasn't why I went home with him," I snapped. I was shut in my guest room, but went into the bathroom and closed the door just in case.
"Oooh, now we're getting to the good stuff," Ginny said. "So, why did you go home with him in the first place?"
"I-I was mad at Joshua. And you."
"Me?"
"Yes. You were making fun of me for not knowing how to celebrate. You didn't think I could cut loose."
Ginny interrupted, "So you snagged the first hot guy you saw that looked nothing like Joshua and you let him take you home."
"No," I ground my teeth in frustration. "It was more than that. I mean, Joshua was trying to make me leave and he grabbed my arm. Penn stepped in like a white knight. He was going to give me a ride wherever I wanted to go."
"You know it's okay to admit you're attracted to him, right?"
"I am not," I snapped. "He's not my type at all."
"You mean, he doesn't fit the type you decided was the most appropriate. I've seen you two together. He gets your juices flowing and that's a good thing!" Ginny sighed into the phone.
"Well, he lied," I said flatly. "And, that means I'm coming back to Santa Cruz."
"No," Ginny wailed. "You can't! How is that going to look? You find out that he was the sole heir to a ridiculous huge fortune and that he threw it all away due to his own stubbornness, and that's the reason you leave?"
"It's not about the money," I said loud enough to make the bathroom tiles echo. "It's because he lied."
&nbs
p; "And you've been the fountain of truth," Ginny snorted.
"There's no fountain of truth," I started to explain, but she cut me off.
"Exactly. You haven't told him anything about your past because you wish it wasn't part of your life. Don't you think that's exactly why he didn't tell you the truth about Xavier Templeton being his father?"
I groaned in frustration. "But that's not it at all. I'm going out there right now to tell him why I'm leaving. You can't just go around lying to people about who you are."
Ginny tried to talk me down off my righteous high ground, but I was too flustered to listen. I had laid awake all night thinking about Penn. My brain swung between empathy and embarrassment, while my traitorous body hummed with desire for him.
Did he think we were a good match because I had nothing? I was going to show him.
I marched down the hallway and found him leaning against the kitchen island, sipping a mug of coffee. The early morning light was dim, and he'd left all the lights off except one small lamp. The soft shadows gave his bare chest even more definition and all my anger turned to smoldering desire.
"I'm glad you're still here," Penn said.
"For now," I snapped. "I can't believe you lied to me!"
He stood up and poured me a mug of coffee. "You believed whatever you wanted to because you really just wanted to stay in that apartment overlooking the San Francisco Bay. Then you caught the chance to helicopter down to Monterey with Xavier Templeton, and I was just your excuse."
"That's not why I came and you know it!" I cried. "Oh my God, you made your father lie to me, too. And your mother! That's how badly you didn't want me to know. Why? You want to keep your black sheep image while weaseling your way back into the will?"
"Just like you're only here to rub elbows with the insanely rich." He slapped the coffee mug down on the counter and it sloshed over.
I circled through the kitchen and grabbed a rag. "Here, sire, I'm not sure you know how to clean up your own messes."
He snatched the rag from my hand and caught my wrist. "Why did you come to Monterey?"
I was caught by the bright embers in his eyes. My chest heaved, but I forced my words to come out even. "You asked me to. Begged me. You didn't want to be alone with your own father, remember? And, you had just found out your mother has cancer."
Penn fingers loosened around my wrist. "When are you going to tell me about that?" he asked softly. "There's something there. Why are you hiding it?"
I wrenched my wrist free. "I'm sorry, we're busy talking about your lies."
"Whoa, so you admit it; you're lying about something, too."
"I'm not lying," I snapped. "You just don't know me."
Penn leaned in. "Exactly. I wasn't lying, either. You just don't know me. So, what are we going to do about that?"
The fight went out of me. "Wait, what?"
"I wasn't lying last night when I said I wanted time alone with you. I want to get to know you better, Corsica," Penn said.
I swayed and found myself leaning against the counter next to him. He reached out and squeezed my fingertips. When I let out a shaky breath and nodded, Penn lifted my fingers to his mouth. I watched his lips graze my knuckles and couldn't think of a thing to say.
"I'm here, but I'll have you know I've been practicing exactly what I want to say to these so-called specialists," Alice swept into the room. "If they can't handle an honest conversation, then we're leaving immediately."
"Exactly," I whispered to Penn.
He smiled and kissed my fingers one more time before he turned to greet his mother. Neither of us got a chance to say another word. Alice Brightwater was determined to make her case for natural medicine even as we helped her into the car.
"Good morning. Looks like everyone's ready to go," Xavier said. He stepped out of his car and strolled across the driveway to join us. "Here, Corsica, let me open the door for you."
Penn rolled his eyes at his father, winked at me, then climbed into the car.
When the door was shut behind him, I turned on his father. "You can stop pretending now. I know that Penn's your son."
Xavier's dark eyes were inscrutable. "I was just going to tell you the same thing. I did a background check on you, Corsica."
I stopped and the driveway spun around me. I put a steadying hand on the car door, but Xavier stopped me from opening it. "I'm not a criminal," I said.
He shook his head. "Not a criminal, but a teenage runaway. I've known people like you. So desperate to get away from the small town and family you thought was a lower-class cage. You've been clawing your way up social ladders ever since, and I'm not going to let you use my son as another step up."
"I didn't run away from a family. I didn't have any family left. Just a drunken father who was so determined to see the bottom of a bottle, he wouldn't let anything get in his way. Once I got knocked around enough to get the message, I took off and never looked back."
I straightened up and Xavier took a step back. "Not everyone's as lucky as Penn. My father drank himself to death just a few months after I got out. Didn't your little background check tell you that?"
I could see Xavier running over the report in his head, struggling to remember the dates he had probably jumped over before. "Your mother passed away that same year?" he asked in a hollow voice.
I crossed my arms hard over my chest. "I didn't run away. I left because I needed to find a job. I needed to support myself."
The hard gleam jumped back into his eyes. "And now you think you've finally hit the jackpot?"
"He's not going to accept your money," I snapped.
Xavier blinked. "Penn?"
"I know he denounced you and his inheritance. And, no matter what plans you have to entangle your only son in your empire, it's not going to work. He doesn't want your money. So, no, I don't think I've hit the jackpot."
I stepped forward and jabbed a finger into his impeccable tie. "And, even if I did, I wouldn't want your money either. I've earned everything I've gotten since the age of fifteen. And the only illegal thing I ever did to get it was drive out of state on a learner's permit."
"Fifteen?"
"Didn't see that on the background check, either?" I snapped. "If I were you, I'd get my money back."
I yanked open the car door and dropped inside. Penn and his mother stopped their own argument at my appearance. The way they both went mute because of me would have made me uncomfortable if only I wasn't so relieved to know they did not overhear what was said outside the car.
The drive to the treatment center was tense.
When the car pull up to the front doors of the modern facility, Alice frowned. "I'd like to go in alone. I've already let all of you influence me too much."
Penn insisted on walking her inside and left his father and me in a tight silence. I hoped it would continue until he returned, but Xavier cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. I didn't think what reasons you might have had for running away."
"The neighbors kept talking about calling child services. I'd already been working to pay our bills for over a year. I wasn't a child."
"Your mother?" Xavier asked, but Penn's return to the car stopped him.
"What? What'd I miss?" Penn asked.
I stuck out my chin. "Your father got a background check on me and just accused me of being a gold-digger. After all, what else does a teenage runaway become besides a scheming social climber?"
Penn gaped at me then at his father. Finally, he focused and glared at his father. "You did a background check on her?"
"For you. I wanted to make sure you hadn't invested too much time in a relationship that wasn't worth it," Xavier said.
Penn squirmed, caught between remembering the long-term romance we were portraying and the fact that he'd just found out I was a runaway. He let out an exasperated breath. "You never told me you ran away."
I ground my teeth. "It's not important. You've left out plenty of important details yourself. No wonder you never wanted me to mee
t your family."
"I should leave you two alone," Xavier said.
"No," Penn barked. "You're the one that dug all of this up, so you can sit here and be uncomfortable. Why, Corsica? What did you run away from?"
I took a deep breath and tried to find the place to begin, but Alice saved me. She flew down the steps of the treatment center, the wide arms of her dress flapping in the wind.
"Aggressive! That's the word they kept using," she cried as she climbed in the car and locked the doors. "They want to pursue an aggressive treatment. Just the sound of it is wrong. Let's go."
Penn was still angry with his father, but they both exchanged a worried and heartbroken look. Alice was going to refuse treatment.
"No," I said, jumping in with sharp authority. "You're looking at it all wrong. Aggressive means that you have a fighting chance. You have to fight, Alice."
She shook her head and darted her eyes away from Penn's pained expression. "I don't do that. I'm a healer, a pacifist. I don't fight."
"Look," I said. "Your son wants to fight for you. Your family wants to fight for you. You're the only one that can stop them from hurting themselves trying."
Xavier's phone rang. "It's them. What should I say?"
Alice sighed then reached over to pat Penn's hand. "Tell them I wasn't up to it today, but that we should reschedule. Apparently I'm going to have to prepare myself for battle."
Penn's mother filled the return car ride with a tirade on alternative medicines and the narrow-minded view of Western medicine. It was a relief as no one else had anything to say. Every time I looked at Penn, the whole truth of my past was on my lips. I wanted to tell him everything, but it wasn't the time.
We pulled up outside the Monterey mansion and I waited for Xavier to help Alice out of the car before I turned on Penn. "Is this actually your house?"
"Corsica?" The tone of his voice stopped me. Penn shifted across the leather seats and gathered me into his arms. "Thank you. I don't know what I would have done if she'd refused treatment. I was so scared."
"I know. I'm sorry." I hugged him tight.
"I don't care why you came along. I'm just glad you're here. You really are saving me," he whispered against my hair.