And she had believed him capable of stealing from her friend. He had given her entry to his soft underbelly, to his most vulnerable self…and she thought him a thief. Could believe so little in his integrity, understand him so little.
“You could make love to me, believing I stole from your friend?” In a strange sort of way, fury receded. He grew numb. “What kind of woman are you?” he murmured almost to himself.
Lexie glanced up at him, her eyes bright with un-shed tears. “A fool, apparently. You made love to me believing me a spy.”
“You are a spy.” His jaw tightened. It was Celia all over again. It was his greedy stepmother, saying one thing with her mouth and plotting his doom behind his back.
“I was trying to help my friend,” she cried. “Max needs me.”
I needed you, too, Lexie. But we were spinning in separate orbits, all along. When I thought my heart touched yours—
It had been a mirage conjured out of longings he’d thought long ago vanquished. Dominic swallowed the bitter taste of deception and headed for the rest of his clothes, pulling about him the only thing that had never let him down: the mantle of distance. It was his refuge, his reliable friend. Inside there he could function, could do what needed to be done.
The first thing was to get out of here. Get away before the acid of betrayal ate its way through.
“Nikos—”
“Do not call me that,” he snapped, then brutally shoved away his fury, swallowed hard, locked it down tightly.
Then he looked at her one last time.
She looked ravaged. Vulnerable.
Dominic clamped down hard on a renegade urge to close the distance between them, to take her in his arms, to offer comfort.
Damn. What was it she did to him?
Before he could weaken, he spoke. “Your friend is wrong. I am not a thief. I do not employ thieves.” He turned away, headed for the door. “Your security clearance will be revoked. Any communications you must have before the gala will be routed through Mrs. Murray.” He grasped the door handle in a death grip, wondering what it would take to stop this crushing ache that held his heart in a fist. How long this time to get past betrayal?
Surely this time would do it. He would never be fooled again.
Her voice came from behind him, quiet and strained but threaded with determination. “Perhaps I don’t want to do the gala anymore.”
“No.” A quick bolt of panic skittered through him at the thought of never seeing her again. Only for the sake of the company, he assured himself. Not for him. He turned back, steeling himself to resist whatever he would see. “You will finish your contract. To do otherwise would ruin you.”
Lexie flinched. “Don’t threaten me, Dominic.”
She should look ridiculous, standing in her kitchen, her slender feet bare, white-knuckled fingers clutched on bright woven fabric wrapped around a body he still wanted with a hunger he damned.
But she was a warrior queen, standing there, head high and defiant.
He had to get out of here before the dam broke and all the nasty jumble inside him spilled free. “It is no threat. It is not personal, only a simple matter of business.” He watched her wince at his cruelty. “The gala will go on. I will investigate your claim and prove you wrong. In a few days, it will all be over.”
Those green eyes shimmered, her voice grew hoarse. “Just that simple? It’s over, you walk away? That easy, Dominic?”
Why did he feel as though it was a test and he was failing?
It couldn’t matter. He had made a mistake. He had a company to save. Only that could matter.
So he nodded, studiously ignoring the ache that crowded his chest, tightened his throat. “Just that simple. Goodbye, Lexie.”
He walked out the door, leaving dreams and deceptions behind.
Chapter Eleven
He was gone, and he wouldn’t be back. Just like her father. Just like—
Look at what happened to me, Alexandra. Never give your heart to a man. Never let him become too important.
Too late, Mama. Way too late.
Lexie stared at the door Dominic had just exited, listened to the sound of his engine dying away. Dominic—the real man. Not Nikos, the lover of her dreams.
She closed her eyes against the claws shredding her heart. How had she been such a fool? Couldn’t she see? Couldn’t she ever see things for what they were, not what she wanted them to be?
It was that imagination again, that stupid streak of romanticism that she just couldn’t seem to stamp out.
But it had seemed so real last night, his hunger, his need for her, his tender touch. He’d taken her to heights of bliss beyond that first night’s ecstasy, held her heart in his hands, stolen her breath.
Every touch had whispered of something deeper, something real and precious and fine—
And all the while, he’d known she was spying. All the while, he had made love to a woman he didn’t trust. So every bit of what had seemed so real had been a lie.
And Lexie had soaked up every bit of it and asked for more. Begged for more. Given up every last shred of self-respect while moaning for more—
She had to stop thinking about it, about him. It was over. He was over. And in a few days, this job would be over.
She should call him up, tell him to go straight to hell, tell him to take his precious job and shove it. She didn’t need him, didn’t need his job, didn’t need—
Oh, sweet mercy—even that was a lie. Lexie fought the urge to sink to the floor in despair. She did need the job. And she wanted to need him— Nikos, not Dominic. Not the cold man, not the rich man, not the powerful one.
The tender one, the laughing pirate. The lonely wolf. And despite everything she knew was smart, was sensible, a part of Lexie stubbornly clung to the belief that there had been truth between them, had been something fine and sweet and—
Pure. The laugh that tore from her throat was ragged with grief. She no longer knew the difference between truth and a lie, not if she could be this wrong.
She stared sightlessly out toward her valley, leaden despair settling around her like a shroud. She wanted nothing more right now than to sink into oblivion, to burrow away from this massive ache too huge to contain inside her chest.
Which is why she would do the opposite. She would go take her shower and wash his scent away. She would dress and she would go to his mansion and work—
Oh, God. Her knees buckled. She bent double, the pain ripping, tearing. She couldn’t do this. She—
Lexie squeezed her eyes shut, gripped the edge of the counter, hunched against a hurt so big she couldn’t breathe.
Have to breathe. Deep breath, Lexie. You can do this. You can’t let him destroy you, can’t let him win.
She sucked in one breath. Exhaled. Sucked in another.
Blew it out, exhaling the poison of betrayal.
She would work hard. Work smarter. Work as if it would save her life, her sanity, save her from losing her mind.
And she would pray her most fervent pleas that the fates would be kind, that she would not have to see Dominic Santorini until this was all over.
Straightening, forcing herself to deal with the little things first, Lexie turned and started all over to make coffee. Coffee. Shower. Work.
Not love. Never love. Not foolish dreams. Work, just work. It was pitiful protection—but it was all she had. She would make it enough, until her heart caught up.
Dominic drove straight to the office. He would use a change of clothes he kept there. By the time he had to see Ariana and Mrs. Garcia, he would have himself in hand, be back to normal.
Even as he thought the words, they mocked him. Normal would be a long time in coming. What he’d lost this morning would not release its claws until he confirmed that he was right, until he put Lexie behind him.
His hands tightened on the steering wheel as devastated green eyes rose before him. Despite all his resolve, something inside him twisted in endless, aching grief.
He didn’t know what to hope for—that she was wrong, or that she was right. Either way, he lost too much.
He strode past Bob with only a nod, his mood darkening with every step. No one had yet arrived on his floor, thank God. He tore off the clothes he wanted to burn and stepped into the shower to scrub away the night.
But it wouldn’t leave—she wouldn’t leave him. Lexie taunted him with a thousand images, a thousand sensations, a thousand memories. And he knew a hunger so deep it gutted him.
Dominic slammed his palms against the tile and hung his head, letting the water beat down while his eyes burned as though he were a callow boy suffering his first rejection.
Why? he cried out to the fates. Why couldn’t she be who I thought she was?
For a second he leaned back against the tile, wanting its chill to shock him back into his senses. He stared into the steam with eyes gone sightless.
No one would ever know how much he’d wanted her to be real, how much he’d needed her to be the tomboy, the one woman who wouldn’t care if he had two nickels to rub together.
Dominic shook his head and took a deep breath, then shut off the shower and grabbed a towel.
“Lex, are you excited about—” Max’s voice dwindled as he walked through her office door two days later. “What’s wrong? What are you doing here, sitting in the dark?”
“I can’t go, Max.” Bright light flared as he hit the switch, and she covered her eyes.
“Bull. Of course you’re—what happened to you? You look like hell.”
“Thanks a lot. I didn’t know you were back in town.”
“I just drove in.” He crossed the room and dropped to a crouch in front of her. His voice turned gentle. “Are you scared, is that it? You know the gala will turn out fine. You’re a genius with the sets.”
She raised her head and met his gaze. “I just don’t want to go.”
“You are so full of it. You love hearing people rave about your work, and this is the best you’ve ever—” He stopped, cocked his head. “Is this about me? Is it because of the software? ’Cause, Lex, it’s going to work out. I’ve got a copy ordered. I’ll have it tomorrow, and then I’ll be able to prove it.”
“It will be too late then, won’t it?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Having a glitzy launch will only improve my situation. Lots of people will be paying attention, and tomorrow they’ll be able to verify that it’s true.” He shoved to his feet, holding out a hand. “So get up and get a move on. You’re not even dressed for the big shindig.”
She’d brought her dress, wanting to avoid the long drive back to the dome after working all day on finishing touches. “I don’t want to go.”
Max stared at her for a long moment. “It’s him, isn’t it? Santorini. You’re afraid to see him.”
“I’m not afraid. He means nothing to me.” Liar, liar, pants on fire. Despite the distance of two days, not one iota of the pain had lessened. She’d worked until she dropped and still she awakened from dreams of Dominic.
Not Dominic. Dominic lied and stole.
Nikos. It was Nikos she missed.
“Come on, Lex, spit it out. What happened?”
Max had been gone on business since that night, and she’d been relieved, having no idea what to tell him. She’d spent every waking hour at the mansion, worried sick over what she’d say to Dominic if he came near, but true to his word, he kept distance between them. She’d seen him a couple of times, but he’d acted as if she were invisible.
She had to tell Max. “Max, he knows. He says it’s not true, says he’ll prove it.” She waited, almost hoping he’d yell at her, do something, anything, to break the ice encasing her heart. When he remained silent, she looked up. “I’m sorry. When you called before you left—” She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could wring out the memories of that night.
“He was there, Max. He heard me talking to you.”
Max swore darkly. “What happened? Why was he—”
She shrank back into her chair, and Max cursed again. “Damn, Lexie, what were you thinking?”
She started to cry, wiping angrily at her tears. “He knew. He called me a spy. He knew I’d been spying on him and he still came to me and made me believe—” Her voice broke on a sob.
“What a goddamn mess.” Max threw his arms out to the side, exhaling loudly.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She huddled in her chair, wanting to be anywhere but here, anyone but her. “I never meant—I was just trying to help—” Her voice broke.
Max began to pace, raking impatient fingers through his hair.
“Max, I don’t think he knew. Dominic, I mean. He seemed truly surprised.”
He turned, studied her. “So what’s he doing about it?”
“I don’t know. He just said he’d prove that I was wrong. He said it couldn’t happen without him knowing.”
Max snorted. “He may be a wizard, but he’s not omnipotent.” He stared at her but she could tell he was seeing something else. Then his focus snapped to her. “Get dressed.”
“What?”
“I said get dressed. You’re going to the gala and I’m going with you. I want to size up this guy for myself, talk to people there. The whole company will be there, right?”
She nodded.
“Then let’s go.” He headed for the door, then stopped and turned. “Can you handle this? Seeing him again, I mean?”
“It doesn’t matter. I owe you big.”
“Don’t do that to yourself. You should have stayed out of it, that much is true. But you didn’t create this mess. Someone at Poseidon did. They hurt me and they hurt you.” His voice went hard and grim. “Me, I’ll recover. But no matter who’s at fault over the theft, I want a piece of Santorini for what he did to you.”
She smiled sadly. “I did it to myself. I knew better. I’m just not the type men want to keep.”
“Oh, kid…” Max slammed his palm against the door frame. “You sell yourself short. You always have.” He shook his head. “Get dressed, Lexie,” he said gently. “Let’s go get us a pound or two of flesh.”
Dominic stood in front of the huge golden statue of Hades, shaking his head in amazement at Lexie’s skill. The Chamber of Doom, the centerpiece of the game, had been reproduced so faithfully he would swear he had entered Legend Quest himself.
She was so talented. So beautiful.
Such a liar. Bradley had taken his own time late at night to vet every line of code in both the game and the software used to create the graphics. There was no Easter egg embedded anywhere within either, Bradley had told him just moments ago, taking pity on his friend and holding back the smirk he no doubt felt.
He’d warned Dominic, after all. Told him to stop thinking below his belt.
“Dominic?” Ariana’s voice called from the maze outside this chamber.
“In here.” He sighed, shook his head, let his dreams go. He’d never admit to anyone how much he’d hoped he’d be wrong and Lexie right, no matter what it meant to the company.
His sister walked in, a vision in a long shimmering column of pale gold.
“You look wonderful,” he said.
She approached, smiling. She reached up and made a minute adjustment to the tie of his tux. “So do you.” She worried at her lower lip.
“What?”
A faint frown appeared between her brows. “I’m worried about you.”
“No need.” He shrugged. “I’m sure the evening will go fine. If everything else is as perfect as the set, the evening will be a success.”
She smiled. “Lexie did an incredible job, didn’t she? The whole place takes my breath away. It’s like entering another world. She’s created magic, sheer magic.”
She always does, he wanted to say. Beyond his command, a vision shimmered. Sky-blue ceiling, fluffy clouds, twinkling lights. A sultan’s bed he would never try out.
A beautiful deceiver creating beautiful lies.
It was his
own private hell that he wanted her still, wanted to be a true believer despite all that he knew.
“What is it?” Ariana asked, touching his arm. “You look so sad.”
Dominic straightened, snapped out of it, remembered his duty. “Not at all. I am perfectly fine.” He smiled for her benefit. “Have you seen all of it?”
“Lexie showed me this afternoon, but it looks completely different tonight. I’d love to go through it again before the first guests arrive.”
“Then we shall. This way, madam.” He proffered his arm and led her back to the beginning of Lexie’s maze, trying very hard to concentrate on his sister and forget the woman whose memory would not leave him alone. They were almost to the front gate, torchlights flickering, the very air broadcasting menace and challenge and a sense of time beyond time—
And then he saw her.
“Lexie, this is incredible!” Ariana rushed toward her, and Lexie felt Max stir beside her just as Ariana threw her arms around her and gave a big hug. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It seems so real, people are going to go crazy over this, absolutely crazy. Aren’t they, Dominic?”
Lexie could feel Max bristle beside her, felt the air charge with antagonism. She pulled away, looking past the taller woman’s shoulder.
Ebony eyes in a buccaneer’s face. His features could have been cast in stone, the torchlight flickering over the sharp angles and harsh planes. In a perfectly tailored tux, he was every woman’s dream.
Her dream. Her heartache.
“I am certain they will.” He looked utterly unmoved.
Her insides were quivering, and he looked as though this was just another day in the park.
Beside her, she felt Max’s muscles bunch and she squeezed his arm, hoping to forestall a confrontation. She turned to Ariana, her mouth dry as dust.
Somehow she managed to speak. “Thank you. I’m glad you like it.”
But the excitement had drained from Ariana’s features, replaced by confusion and dread as the tension crackled around her. “Dominic?”
Instantly he turned solicitous, reaching toward his fragile sister. “It is truly a miracle. Ms. Grayson—” his voice was ice-cold and silken as he turned to her, “—would you be willing to take Ariana on a tour before things get too crowded?”
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