TrustMe

by Unknown

  With a quick catch of concern, she realized that beneath his easy manner he seemed tense, although he was doing his best to hide it. “We could have dinner brought in if you like,” she said, assuring herself he must be tired.

  His eyes touched her again and for an instant that familiar heat flared in their green depths, crowding out any hint of darkness. Then his gaze hooded. “No. You look too damn good to keep hidden away. Plus it’s a beautiful night, I hear the restaurant here has a five-star chef and a pretty good dance floor, and I’m looking forward to showing you off. I’ll just leave this here—” he pulled a packet of papers out of his coat and set it on the breakfast bar “—and we’re on our way. I’m pretty sure I hear a rack of lamb calling my name.”

  She obligingly picked up her evening bag. “What is that?” She nodded toward the packet.

  “Stuff you can’t live without.” He ticked off the items as they ambled toward the front door. “Cash, new passport, first-class airline ticket, itinerary—”

  “Itinerary for what?”

  “Your trip home. I guess it’s not news to you, but when your grandmother rattles cages, the fallout is impressive. A car will be here tomorrow at 9 a.m. sharp, complete with an escort from the U.S. consulate, to take you to the airport.”

  She jerked to a halt. “But—” oh, God, she had to remember to breathe or she was going to faint “—what about you?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve got a little more diplomacy of my own to practice. Nobody likes Condesta, but the local government can’t just ignore what happened. It wouldn’t be good form.”

  “Surely they wouldn’t send you back to San Timoteo!” Her voice trembled at the thought.

  “No. Hell, no.” He rubbed her arm, his fingers deliciously warm. “A few meetings, a lot of apologies, and everything will be fine.”

  Relief rolled through her. “Good. Then if that’s all it is, I’ll just stay here until you’re free to go, too.” She swiveled and started back toward the living room.

  “Li—”

  “Is there a phone number that I can call to cancel—”

  “Lilah.”

  Just two syllables, but the way he said it…She stopped, knowing something was wrong and sensing that, unlike Condesta and his men, it wasn’t something she could outrun. She turned to face him. “What is it, Dominic?”

  He wasn’t even pretending to smile now. “You and me…together…It’s been great. But after tonight, we both need to get back to our real lives in the real world.”

  He was giving her the brush-off. It was her worst nightmare relived, her most shattering memory repeated, and she braced for a wave of loss and betrayal, as well as the pain that was sure to come when her heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

  Except…the moment passed and her heart was still intact. Stunned, as much by her reaction as his words, she felt light-headed for a moment. Then that passed, too, and she realized he hadn’t said the one thing she’d dreaded most—that he didn’t love her. In point of fact, he didn’t seem to be addressing that issue at all.

  She also wasn’t some powerless teenager anymore. She was a grown woman who could—and would—fight for what she wanted. She looked Dominic square in the face. “No,” she said flatly.

  For a second, he looked genuinely startled. “No, what?”

  “No, I’m not going to just walk away and pretend that we never happened. I meant it when I told you I love you. You’re doing us both a disservice by implying that the past week has been some kind of frivolous game or fantasy. You know that’s not true. What happened between us is very real.”

  A nerve twitched to life in his jaw. “All right, maybe I didn’t say that right. But it still doesn’t mean that this—the two of us together—will work. It won’t.”

  It was a sweeping indictment. And she didn’t believe it, not for a minute. “Why not?”

  “Hell, there’s my job, for one thing.”

  “What about it?”

  He didn’t bother to hide his impatience. “Jeez, let’s see, Li. It’s dangerous. It takes me away for weeks at a time. It puts me in risky situations.”

  She considered the closed, unyielding expression on his face. Why was he doing this? She knew he cared about her; it had been there in his every word, his every gesture, his every action the past few days. So why was he pushing her away now?

  “My job requires me to travel, too,” she informed him. “And you’re certainly not the only man in the world with a dangerous profession. I’d never ask you to give that up, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  He shook his head. “You may think you understand what it would be like, but you’re wrong,” he said stubbornly. “A few months, maybe a little more, and you’d get tired of my not always being around, of not having an escort to take you to the ballet or out to eat at your favorite French restaurant.”

  Now that made her angry. “Pay attention, Dominic. It’s the twenty-first century. I can take myself anywhere I want to go. I don’t have an exotic lifestyle, either. I live in a one-bedroom condo. The only concert tickets I have are for Tim McGraw and the only restaurant on my speed dial is Pelligrini’s Pizza.”

  “Come on, Lilah. You’re still an Anson.”

  “If this is about money, I’ll sign over my trust fund to you first thing in the morning.”

  “Dammit!” he growled. “I don’t want your money. I want you to realize that the only reason we’re having this discussion is because we just spent some really intense time together, where you felt threatened and I was your protector. It’s a classic case of—”

  “Don’t you dare say hero worship,” she warned.

  “—transference. And I would be doing you a disservice if I took advantage of the situation.”

  “You can’t take advantage of someone by doing what they want,” she said with implacable logic.

  He went on as if he hadn’t heard her. “You know what else? This is starting to feel a hell of a lot like ten years ago, when you tried to ride roughshod over my life. Well, I’ve got news, sweetheart. I didn’t like it then and I like it even less now.”

  “Ride roughshod!” she repeated incredulously. “For heaven’s sake, Dominic. I was nineteen years old and so in love with you I couldn’t think straight! All I wanted was for us to be together, but I was afraid you didn’t feel the same way. So instead of telling you how I felt, I let my pride get the upper hand.”

  “Oh, and I suppose it was your pride that told me to take a hike?” he said sarcastically.

  She lifted her chin. “I messed up. And I’m sorry—more than you’ll ever know. But it’s not like I was alone in the pool house that day. You could’ve stayed, you could have fought for me, for us. Instead, you charged out of there so fast it was a miracle you didn’t leave scorch marks on the pool deck. And now you’re doing it again.”

  “The hell I am. What I’m trying to do is make you see reason, but you don’t seem to have heard a word I said!”

  “Oh, I’ve heard every word! But so far all you’ve done is give me a laundry list of reasons why you’re not right for me, not one of which I care a flip about! But then, I’m starting to think this really isn’t about me at all. It’s about you. What is it you’re so afraid of, Dominic?”

  “Absolutely nothing,” he shot back, “unless it’s rich girls who won’t take no for an answer.”

  Lilah recoiled as if he’d struck her.

  And before she could recover enough to think how to answer, he turned on his heel and walked away.

  Dom took a swig of the long-awaited beer he’d promised himself. The golden brew was just the way he liked it: ice-cold and silky smooth.

  So why did it taste like ditch water on his tongue?

  He scowled at his image in the dimly lit mirror that stretched behind the smallest of the Meridian’s three bars. It didn’t take a genius to come up with an answer. He could name that tune with a single word. Lilah.

  Who would’ve guessed that in the blink of an
eye the sensible, agreeable woman he’d just spent some of the most memorable days of his life with would become impervious to reason?

  Not him. But then, he hadn’t expected himself to act like the world’s biggest jackass, either. Not that he’d been wrong to tell her what he had; he just hadn’t expected to lose his temper, much less go stomping off like some damn fool kid.

  For that, Lilah had to take some of the blame. Seeing her in that red dress had been like a direct attack on his better judgment. Then she’d complicated matters further by kissing him as if he were the only man in the world, triggering a voice in his head that had insisted he’d be crazy to give her up. Add in her unexpected declaration that she didn’t intend to go home without him and he’d felt as if his back were to the wall. So instead of waiting until they were at dinner and letting her down easy the way he’d planned, he’d gone ahead and baldly told her they’d reached the end of the line.

  He’d expected that once she thought it over she’d see their time together the same way he did: as a hell of an adventure that had been destined to be short-lived. He’d also supposed she’d concede that she wasn’t cut out to be exposed to the ugly, life-and-death matters he regularly encountered.

  After all, she was Lilah Anson Cantrell—wealthy, privileged and far too sheltered to deal with the gritty reality of his world.

  Yeah, right. That would explain where she found the courage to jump off a cliff at midnight with nothing more than your word she’d be okay. That’s why she had the starch to fight off drowning, then make love half a day and most of a night. That’d be why she gritted it out when it looked as if you were about to put the plane into Condesta’s boat.

  Ignoring the bitter taste in his mouth, he drained his beer in one long pull and signalled for another. Yet neither the slight kick of the alcohol or a brief exchange with the bartender put a halt to the inexorable march of his thoughts.

  Yeah, that’s Lilah, all right. She’s nothing more than a spun glass angel meant to sit prettily on a shelf. And if you believe that, pal, you’ve got an upcoming date with a padded cell.

  He stroked his thumb down the condensation filming the beer bottle. Okay, so he had ample reason to know she wasn’t the fragile flower he’d painted her for years. And he’d done a really lousy job of making the case for them going their separate ways, just as he’d completely misjudged her probable reaction.

  But then, he’d done a number of stupid things lately. Like breaking his own rule about getting involved. Like not letting her know up front that there was no chance of them living happily ever after. Like refusing her gift of love—

  He hastily rejected that last thought. Yet the longer he considered, the more he had to concede that some of the things she’d said did have a little merit. There was that business about their long-ago breakup, for one. They had been young and her pride hadn’t been the only one in play that day.

  When it came to her preposterous charge that he’d fled as if his feet were on fire, however, that was a load of bull. He’d simply been cutting his losses, since he’d known all along their relationship would never last. She’d been rich; he hadn’t. She’d been on track to get a first rate education; he hadn’t. She’d been envisioning a future together when he’d already learned that you couldn’t trust people not to go off and leave you behind, not even your own mother—

  Whoa. Wait one damn minute, Steele. That’s not right.

  He was the one who’d decided he wasn’t interested in being committed to anyone. That had been his choice. It was a matter of being strong, self-reliant, of charting his own course. It wasn’t because he was incapable of trust or afraid to risk his heart.

  Was it?

  The beer bottle slipped out of his hand, nearly hitting the counter. Catching it just in time, he ignored the foam fizzing over the top and spilling down his suddenly shaking fingers as he heard Lilah’s voice in his head. What are you so afraid of, Dominic?

  And Holy Merciful Mother, the answer—to a question he would have sworn ten minutes ago had nothing to do with him—surged fully formed into his mind.

  I’m afraid that if I let myself love her and things don’t work out, I’ll never recover.

  Thunderstruck, he waited for the denial that was sure to come—only to be met by a telling internal silence. And then the voice in his head, the one that rejoiced in playing devil’s advocate, said, “So what are you going to do about it? Sit here for the rest of your life? Go on deluding yourself? Play it safe, refuse to take a chance, go back to Denver and pray you never see Lilah again? Dread the day that you do, only to discover she’s moved on to somebody else?”

  Hell, no. His negative reaction to that idea was so strong it propelled him off the bar stool and onto his feet. Tossing some bills onto the counter to cover his tab, he suddenly knew without a single doubt just what it was he had to do.

  Because somewhere along the way, he’d already crossed the line. He loved Lilah. And the one thing that would be worse than losing her would be knowing that he was too cowardly to take a chance on happiness.

  He also knew, with a certainty he didn’t question, that if he couldn’t make things right, he’d spend the rest of his life living with the very hole in his heart he’d been trying so hard to avoid.

  The night was spectacular.

  Too bad she barely saw it.

  Lilah lay in the dark on a chaise by the pool and ignored the stars glittering overhead like a spill of diamonds against the ink-blue sky. She disregarded the ribbon of breeze that moved through the surrounding trees and plucked at the hem of the filmy sarong she’d thrown on over her bathing suit.

  All she could think about was Dominic.

  If she were a better, stronger, more disciplined person, she’d go swim laps the way she’d planned when she first came outside. She’d lose herself in the comforting silence of the water and the mind-numbing rhythm of propelling herself from one end of the pool to the other.

  She wouldn’t be lying here staring blindly into the dark endlessly replaying her conversation with him, belatedly thinking of all the things she should have said.

  She wouldn’t be second-guessing her decision to tell him she loved him.

  She wouldn’t be wondering what to do next.

  Not that she really had a lot of choices. Because whether he believed her or not, whether she should have told him or not, she did love Dominic.

  And she wasn’t going to repeat the mistake she’d made before. She wasn’t going to wrap herself in her wounded pride and walk away. She refused to spend another ten years wondering what might have been if only she’d had the courage to see it through.

  So sometime tomorrow, she’d come up with a plan. She’d put away the hurt that splintered through her every time she thought about him walking away. She’d forget the angry words they’d exchanged. She’d put aside his lack of faith and conquer the despair that threatened to overwhelm her every time she started to wonder if she was deluding herself that maybe they still had a chance.

  And maybe she should take that swim, she decided, as a fresh wave of uncertainty threatened to overwhelm her. She’d swim until she was too tired to think, and then maybe she’d be able to sleep, and when the sun came up tomorrow she’d know what to do.

  Swallowing hard, she climbed to her feet and reached to untie the sarong, only to have a prickle of awareness skate down her spine. Tensing, she straightened and turned, then felt her heart go thump.

  Dominic stood no more than five feet away, his hips propped against the rim of the wrought iron patio table, his arms crossed over his chest. He’d shed his sport coat, and his white shirt looked almost blue in the wash of the moonlight as the breeze molded the cloth to his muscled chest. His face was shadowed, however, and impossible to read.

  Their gazes locked for what felt to Lilah like the longest moment of her life. She wanted in the worst way to fling herself into his arms, to burst into tears, to beg him to take away her hurt. Instead, she lifted her chin and said wit
h all the dignity she could muster, “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m thinking how beautiful you are. And what an idiot I am. And how you have to stop scaring the hell out of me or I really am going to have a heart attack.”

  She numbly responded to the least important of his three statements. “I scared you?” It was the only safe thing she could think to say.

  “Yeah. Your front door is wide-open. When I couldn’t find you, I thought that maybe Condesta had been stupid enough to send someone after you.”

  “Oh.” She wet her lips, compelled to ask the next question even though she dreaded the answer. “And that would be a bad thing?”

  “That would be beyond bad,” he replied firmly. “That would be catastrophic.” He pushed away from the table, eliminating the distance between them with just a trio of steps. And though it was the hardest thing she’d ever done, she held her ground, refusing to retreat even when he was so close she could feel the heat radiating off him.

  She did her best to armor her heart as she waited for him to add that then he’d be forced to return to San Timoteo or—worse—that he’d be out his fee.

  “Because—” he reached out and cupped her face in his hands “—I love you, Li. I think I always have and I know damn well I always will. And I hate the thought of anything hurting you. Even me. Especially me.”

  “Oh, Dominic…” She swallowed, overcome, and one of the tears she’d been holding back spilled over, tracking down her face.

  “Oh God, princess, please don’t cry.” He swiped away the bead of liquid with his thumb, his voice suddenly agonized. “I’m sorry for those things I said. I didn’t mean them. It’s just taken my head a while to catch up with my heart. Say you’ll marry me and I swear I’ll spend the rest of our lives making it up to you.”

  “You want to get married?” She stared at him in surprise, the tears coming a little faster, afraid to believe she’d heard him right.

  “Absolutely. You’ve been the only woman for me ever since I first saw you. Like I said, it just took me a while to figure it out. But now that I have, I’m not letting you go. That is, if you’ll still have me.”