“Well, I hope in time you’ll look back on your stay here fondly,” her hostess said.
“Believe it or not, I already do.” At the very least, she’d learned plenty about herself and her ability to open up and trust, even if it had been with the wrong man.
But if he was so wrong for her, then why did the pained look in his eyes linger in her memory along with his words? I never intended to hurt you. I never intended to use you.
I love you—the last said long after his lies had been exposed. She hugged her arms around her waist. Long after he’d walked out, leaving her alone as she’d requested, she’d replayed every moment of their time on the island in her head. Every touch, every kiss, every intimate conversation.
No question he’d come to Secret Fantasy with an agenda, but could his feelings have shifted midcourse? Hers most certainly had. “Merrilee?”
Her hand on the door, the other woman turned. “Yes?”
“Do you have any regrets in life?”
She nodded. “Not having had the chance to follow my heart.”
Her words rung in Juliette’s ears long after Merrilee let herself out. I love you. Lord knew, his lies aside, Juliette loved him. But she’d been taken in twice. Both so recent she still had the scars to show for her misplaced faith. How could she even think about trusting the words and expressions of a man whose lips and eyes had already deceived her?
CHAPTER TEN
IF FLYING from Secret Fantasy to Miami, from Miami to Chicago, and Chicago to Washington D.C., all in forty-eight hours, was enough to prove love, Doug would have Juliette in his arms by now. Unfortunately, Juliette had gotten a head start and the last seat on the last flight out of Miami. After hours of waiting in airports and too little sleep, Doug prepared himself to face Senator Stanton’s secretary and then the senator himself.
In fact, his journey had just begun. And when he stood in front of Juliette’s father, he understood just how difficult the trip would be.
Senator Stanton rose from behind his desk. “I shouldn’t even be seeing you.” Despite the older man’s graying hair and age, Doug saw similarities to Juliette. Like his daughter, even in disapproval, his green eyes held an inherent warmth.
Doug extended his hand and the senator shook it warily. “I take it you’ve spoken to your daughter,” Doug said.
“Long enough to know you’ve been busy.”
He accepted the intended criticism with a nod of his head. “Not as busy as I might have been if I’d spent the last day and a half writing an article instead of traveling to find you.”
“Then I’m sure you have something important to say.” Senator Stanton gestured for Doug to take a seat, then settled into the leather oversize armchair behind the desk. “Don’t tell me you traveled all this way to warn me about your exposé. Journalists don’t usually extend such courtesy.”
“Especially ones who’ve hurt an innocent woman, you mean?”
“Touché. And your words, not mine, but in this case they’ll do fine.”
“Sir, I have an idea that will keep your daughter out of the paper completely. My paper, at least. I can’t control what others print but I can damn well control what I write.” And thanks to Juliette and her warmth and sensitivity, she’d taught him to give his words careful consideration.
The older man leaned forward in his seat. “And why would you want to do that?”
Doug drew a deep breath. “Because I love her,” Doug said the words out loud for the second time in as many days.
His heart pounded hard and fast in his chest as he realized just how much he cared for the redheaded beauty. Just knowing her had redeemed him. Having her love would make him whole. The man sitting across from him was his only chance at proving his worth and his word to the woman he loved. He cared more that Juliette believe she hadn’t let herself be duped again than he did about the lonely life ahead of him if she turned him away. Something he had no desire to face. He stood before her father, hoping the older man’s reputation for fairness and understanding would hold long enough for Doug to make his point. After that, all bets were off.
Senator Stanton tapped his pen against his cedar desk. “Assuming I believe you—and, to be honest, I’m reserving judgment—don’t expect me to go to bat for you. Juliette deserves to make up her own mind—especially regarding the issue that you hurt her badly, yet proclaim to love her.”
Doug nodded. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Besides, I’m a writer. I expect my words to speak for me.” Or rather, the words he left out of his article would speak for him, Doug thought. Because, if things went as planned, he could print his exposé and never once mention Juliette Stanton’s name.
“You’ll have to use more than fancy words to sway my daughter now.”
Doug glanced at the older man. He’d dealt with the senator before but never on such an intimate level and he both respected and liked the older man’s defense of his child.
“May I add one more thing, sir?”
The senator nodded.
“I wouldn’t presume to ask you for a thing, except your approval if I can get your daughter to come around to my way of thinking on her own.”
Reluctant admiration lit the older man’s gaze. “I’ve only just come into possession of the disturbing truth about my protégé. Then I heard about your more recent role.” The older man met and held Doug’s stare—an imposing man who held an imposing position in the country, but it was his role as father that was the most intimidating now. “You know, under other circumstances, I might like you, Houston.”
An unexpected grin worked at the corners of Doug’s mouth and he laughed, feeling more optimistic than he had since leaving Juliette on Secret Fantasy. “Give me ten minutes and you still might.”
* * *
“MMM, THIS is delicious. I haven’t had a good bagel in…”
“Over a week,” Gillian said, laughing. “Didn’t you eat on that island?”
Juliette chewed and swallowed the dough and cream cheese. Her father had returned home for the weekend in time for meetings and Sunday breakfast with his girls. Four days had passed since her return with no word from Doug. No news at all, she thought.
Not that the Runaway Bride bit had gotten old. The reporters still staked out her home and followed her around, speculating this time on why she’d disappeared for a few days. They’d traced her as far south as Miami. Apparently Merrilee had managed to fudge things from there. A miracle as far as Juliette was concerned, but it was only a matter of time until all things came to light. But at least here at the family home at eight a.m., things were quiet. A typical family breakfast wasn’t news.
But Juliette appreciated her family these days more than ever. “The island was different. We had sweet stuff there, like Danishes.” And kisses, Juliette thought. Delicious, intense, soul-deep and prolonged kisses.
“And Florida orange juice, I’ll bet,” Annabelle Stanton said. “I think we’re overdue for a vacation, don’t you, Len?”
Her father covered his wife’s hand. “Next break, okay?”
Juliette watched the easy give and take between her mother and father, the genuine love and caring—and her heart, already bruised, came close to breaking. She’d wanted that, wanted it for herself and Doug. No matter that they’d known one another a short time, she’d believed they each had enough strength to make a relationship work. But she hadn’t counted on the lies.
Her mother shook her head. “Don’t lie to me, Len.”
An eerie feeling swept over Juliette as she listened to her mother’s laughing words.
“We’ll plan a trip and then something will come up and you’ll have to stay close to D.C.” Annabelle laughed once more. “Don’t think I don’t know the routine. Tell me what you think I want to hear and hide the rest so I’m less hurt and disappointed in the end.”
They were an old married couple who knew one another so well, they accepted each other, faults and all. Juliette shivered.
“At least r
etirement’s around the corner,” her mother continued. “Girls, do you think we can keep your father so busy he won’t miss Washington?”
While Gillian and their mother began a recitation of activities her father enjoyed, he leaned closer to Juliette. “One week at home and I’ll be climbing the walls.”
She laughed. “You’ll survive, Dad. There’s plenty of good you can do outside the Senate.”
“That’s my girl. Always worried about the right thing to do. If I’m not mistaken, that’s how you ended up engaged to Stuart.” He laughed but his eyes were concerned and serious. “Maybe it’s time you take the less politically correct road.”
She rolled her eyes. “I told you already. I tried something like that and ended up hurt.” Juliette had gone straight from the airport to her father’s house because he was leaving for D.C. in the morning and what she had to tell him couldn’t wait.
They’d sat up for hours, she, her mother and father, Juliette alternately crying and unburdening herself like she had as a child. He’d been disappointed and disillusioned in Stuart, yet understanding about calling off the wedding. He’d just wished she’d come to him sooner to spare herself the ensuing pain. As for what happened next, her father had promised not to make a move until he gave the situation careful consideration and until he figured out a way to protect everyone who could be damaged by the information. But he was aware of Doug’s possession of the news and therefore knew he had time constraints on his actions.
Juliette wondered what had gone on over the weekend but wanted just a normal family breakfast too badly to ask now. Reality would intrude soon enough. She looked around at the people closest to her. She was so lucky, so fortunate with the lot she’d drawn. Unlike Doug. The thought came unbidden.
“Juliette.”
She hadn’t realized her father was calling her name. She shook her head. “Sorry. I was distracted.”
“By that man.”
“That man, has a name.” Juliette glanced up to see her father grinning. “I don’t know what’s so funny,” she muttered.
“He affects you, honey. That’s not funny, it’s serious.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
Everything about Doug affected her—his touch, his warm breath in her ear, and when they lay flesh to flesh, the way his heart pounded against hers, like they were one. And when his body joined with hers, they had been one. Juliette trembled. The good memories affected her most and made it difficult to believe everything had been a lie, part of an agenda to get a story.
“Sounds to me like you two have unfinished business,” her father said.
She clenched her hands at her sides. “What’s unfinished about the pretense under which he went to the island and the lengths he went to get his story?” she asked.
But as she sat with her family, with the people she’d been closest to since birth, she wondered—what other awful things besides hunger had Doug endured on the street? What other events had shaped the determined, driven man he’d become? And she wondered too what role his love for his adoptive parents—especially his ailing father—had played in the desperate means he’d used to get Juliette’s story.
Her father shrugged. “Only you would know what’s unfinished. Or whether what was said between you two is more important than what went unsaid.”
I love you, he’d said. And she’d remained silent in return. We shared the most important things in our lives—my childhood and your recent past. And she’d made a mockery of his admission.
“What have you learned from your mother and my relationship?” her father asked. “The most important thing we’ve taught you girls?”
Juliette realized her mother and sister were listening intently but neither were interrupting. Quite a feat for Gillian, but she obviously realized the importance of the conversation and respected it.
“You taught us to follow our hearts,” Juliette said softly.
“And did you? With that guy in college? Or, more importantly, with Stuart? Did you follow your heart? Or what you thought your mother and I wanted you to do?”
A rhetorical question and they both knew it. With Stuart she’d been the dutiful daughter. But with Doug…Merrilee’s one regret in life came back to haunt her. Not having had the opportunity to follow her heart.
Juliette began to shake inside, unable to speak. With Doug, she had followed her heart and it had led her to a man she’d believed was outside the problems in her life. A man who’d enabled her to loosen up and be herself. A man who’d helped her overcome her fear of storms, she thought glancing out at the pouring rain and remembering the electricity they’d generated together. And the man she’d let in—not just into her body, but into her heart.
The man she’d let go. Did she honestly want to look back as Merrilee did and realize she’d let the opportunity to follow her heart pass her by? The trembling turned into full-fledged shaking as she wondered if it was too late.
“I want to take a look at this morning’s paper,” her father said. A lifelong politician, he knew how and when to beat a hasty, strategic retreat. He gestured to the countertop and the newspaper he’d picked up from the driveway earlier.
Juliette needed a minute away from her family’s caring but prying eyes. She swallowed over the lump in her throat. “Sit tight, Dad. I’ll get it,” she said, then padded in her heavy socks over to the stack of papers.
The morning headline shouted out at her, Doug’s byline prominent and clear. Retracted Retraction, side by side with Exposed! Congressman’s Dirty Dealings Revealed. Her stomach did a flip at the sight of Doug’s name and photo. In the body of the article was another picture—one of Stuart and Congressman Haywood, together.
Her reaction to seeing Doug, even in a small black-and-white photo—and more clean-shaven and conservatively dressed than she’d known him to be—told her how greatly he’d affected her life. Her skin blazed hot and fire licked at her soul.
If she thought she’d missed him before, the missing piece of her heart grew wider now. Problem was, she was facing not just Doug’s picture, but his article. He’d obviously used the information she’d shared with him. Her stomach plummeted in dismay and disappointment, but her pulse picked up rhythm.
Follow your heart, her parents had always said. And hers was refusing to give up on Doug despite the evidence in her hand.
She glanced over her shoulder, seeking her father’s support, but he was engrossed in conversation with her sister. She didn’t need his advice anyway. If she really loved Doug, she had to believe in him—in his last words to her on the island and what she’d seen in his face that final day.
She gathered her courage and handed the paper to her father.
“Aren’t you going to read it?” he asked.
Juliette shook her head. “I have all the answers I need in here.” She tapped lightly on her chest.
Her father rose and gave her a hug. “You made the decision with your heart. Now as your father, I’m here to tell you it’s the right one. When you do get around to reading that article, I’m sure you’ll fall for him all over again.” His voice sounded gruff and parental at the same time.
Juliette hugged him back and ran for the door. “Where are you going?” Gillian called after her.
“For a run in the rain.” And an exercise in overcoming her fears.
If Doug was up for another lesson.
Only after Juliette got into the car and pulled onto the road did she realize she had no idea where he lived. Though she knew where the Tribune offices were located, there was little chance he’d be in at this hour on a Sunday. With no destination, she headed to the heart of the city and parked about a block from the Tribune offices and sat. Talk about impulsive, spur of the moment, ridiculous moves.
With her heart pounding hard in her chest, she reached for her cell phone and dialed information but, of course, Doug’s phone number was unlisted. So she did the only thing she could—she called Merrilee, the woman who made fantasies come tr
ue.
* * *
DOUG HAD BEEN exonerated as planned and his father was home from the hospital, recuperating and in high spirits.
So why did Doug feel so let down? He retrieved the newspaper from the front stoop of his condo and tossed the paper onto the table in the kitchen. The events of the past few days had culminated in the article of his career, thanks in large part to Juliette’s father.
Per Doug’s suggestion, Senator Stanton had approached Stuart Barnes, his protégé, the man he’d groomed and cared for, and had talked him into turning himself in. He’d convinced Barnes that his self-respect was more important than a Senate seat, and whatever he’d done by joining with Haywood and his associates, could be undone. In return, the senator had promised to remain by Barnes’s side throughout—if he came clean now. The younger man had gone to the police and Doug was certain any high-priced attorney could turn Stuart’s willingness to give up his partners into a reduced sentence.
Doug wasn’t surprised how easily Barnes had been won over by Senator Stanton’s charm and sincerity. After all, hadn’t Doug been won over by the man’s daughter in a matter of hours?
Meanwhile Doug’s article had been an exclusive, redeeming him and exposing the Barnes-Haywood Mob-related corruption scheme—all without a mention of Juliette Stanton’s name. And without using the Runaway Bride angle of the story the other papers had been clamoring for.
Of course the answer to why Juliette bolted from the altar could be found by deduction but it wasn’t a subject Doug had chosen to bring up. He’d sacrificed that tidbit of news in favor of protecting the woman he loved. Sacrificed. When had Doug Houston ever sacrificed the meaty details to protect someone else? He had to admit, he felt damn good about himself now and could thank Juliette for teaching him to be more caring. And with an exclusive exposé under his belt, under any other circumstances he’d feel sheer satisfaction.
Instead, all he experienced now was a profound sense of loneliness and frustration. For a man who’d always been on his own, who’d never even had a live-in relationship, he should be used to a solitary existence. But choosing to be alone and being forced into the state were two very different things.
Secret Fantasy (NYT Bestselling Author) Page 15