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Page 7

by Julie Kenner

He’d blown it once.

  He wasn’t going to blow it again.

  “I’M GLAD you called,” Laci said. “I was afraid that you’d had to jet off to Sydney. Or that Reggie was keeping you chained up working.”

  “If I’d had to leave, I would have told you,” Taylor assured her. “And if it was only chains, I could break them.” He stopped walking long enough to pull a muscle-man pose. She laughed and squeezed his biceps, oohing and aahing appropriately. And, she realized, having a wonderful time merely hanging out with him, doing nothing more interesting than walking hand in hand down the beach.

  Of course, the beach did happen to be in Hawaii, and that definitely upped the romance factor. Add in the fact that it was now sunset and the sky screamed with color so vivid she imagined she could breathe in the night, and there was no escaping the fact that romance was in the air.

  Then again, the way she was feeling about Taylor lately, they could be walking down a grubby alley and she’d still be tumbling hopelessly, madly in love.

  She stumbled, the word in her head reaching down to make her trip over her own feet.

  “Okay?” he said, looking sideways at her.

  “Sure. Yeah. Fine.”

  Love.

  Had she really thought that? Had she come full circle back to loving this man?

  More importantly, had she ever stopped loving him?

  As if he knew she was thinking of him, his fingers tightened against her own, and she drew in a shaky breath, that single, simple contact making her feel light and giddy.

  Yeah, the love was still there, and the thought that they now had a chance to make it grow made her feel lighter than air. She could only hope that he felt the same way. And now, as night fell soft around them, she was determined to find out.

  She tugged him to a stop. “Hey,” she said. “Nice sunset.”

  “I ordered it especially for you.”

  She grinned, then tilted her head up for a quick kiss. “So I thought we should talk…”

  “Sure. I have some stuff I want to talk to you about, too.”

  She caught his expression, the hint of seriousness under the light tone of his voice. “You first.”

  For a moment, he looked as if he might argue, then he nodded. Then he paused again. “To be honest, I’m not entirely sure where to start.”

  She frowned, some hesitancy in his voice making her suddenly uncomfortable. Although she wanted to squeeze his hand and tell him he could talk to her about anything, she found herself shoving both hands into her pockets, her eyes on her toes in the sand rather than on him. “Maybe you should just start at the beginning,” she said, and her tone was so morose that he scrutinized her, and then laughed. She stood up straighter, on the defensive. “What?”

  He brushed her hair out of her face. “Just because I don’t know where to begin doesn’t mean it’s bad,” he reassured.

  She rolled her eyes, feeling foolish for being caught out. “Sorry. I—”

  “Taylor!” A man’s voice interrupted her, and she turned to see a warrior of a man in a business suit striding toward them, his pants legs rolled up and his jacket slung over his shoulder. It was an odd beach look, but it actually suited him.

  “Reggie,” Taylor blurted, coming to a stop and waiting for his boss to catch up with him.

  “Glad I found you,” Reggie said. “I’ve got cocktails in an hour for some potential sponsors. I couldn’t get you on your cell, but I want you there. The concierge thought I might find you here.”

  “Scouting locations,” Taylor explained, as Laci wondered what the locations could possibly be for. “Sorry about the cell. Service is spotty around here.”

  “I’ve noticed.” He turned and smiled at Laci, and she could see exactly how he’d become so ferociously rich. There was a boldness in his eyes. A take-no-prisoners attitude. He was a man people would either like or hate. She doubted there was any middle ground, and just then she didn’t know which side of the equation she fell on.

  “Laci Montgomery,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’ve been watching your career for a while. Impressive.”

  “Thank you. I’m glad to be a part of the competition.”

  “And the exhibition, I hope?”

  She frowned, turned between him and Taylor. “Exhibition?”

  “Taylor hasn’t told you?”

  “I was just getting around to it,” Taylor said, and to Laci’s surprise he seemed mildly nervous.

  Reggie shook his head and chuckled. “Well, then, I apologize for letting the cat out of the bag too soon. I would have expected Taylor to rush to give you the good news. After all, the exhibition will be the icing on the cake, and with him being in charge of it…” He trailed off with a shrug. “Well, it’s going to be damn good for his career, that’s all I can say.”

  “I have to pull it off first,” Taylor pointed out. “You didn’t give me much time.” He spoke with a smile, though, and Laci could see that whatever the challenge was, it was not only important to Taylor, it was exciting.

  “Too tight a schedule for you?” Reggie asked.

  “Absolutely not, sir.”

  “Exactly what I wanted to hear.”

  “Just a sec,” Laci interrupted. “The two of you have tweaked my curiosity. What exhibition? What’s going on?”

  “Reggie’s had a stroke of promotional genius,” Taylor said. “And XtremeSportNet is arranging for a charitable precompetition exhibition. Drum up excitement for the actual event, show off the surfers’ talents, and have some positive societal impact. That kind of thing.”

  “Oh.” She considered it. “That does sound like a good plan.” The more coverage there was before the competition, the more press for the eventual contest—and its winners.

  “But Taylor’s being too modest,” Reggie went on, “I’ve asked him to organize the exhibition because I know he has talent, too.” The older man’s smile was almost paternal. “Not to mention the fact that the exhibition dovetails into Girls Go Banzai.”

  She shook her head, confused, even as Taylor opened his mouth to speak.

  Reggie got there first. “I assume he’s told you that he’s now in charge of Banzai.”

  “I was just getting around to that,” Taylor said, his voice like ice.

  Laci blinked. “That was what you wanted to tell me?”

  “Uh, Morgan left this morning.”

  “Morgan was fired this morning,” Reggie clarified. “Taylor is stepping in.”

  She eased the news through her head, telling herself it didn’t matter. This was a new turn of events. There’d been nothing underhanded. He hadn’t lied to her. When he’d come to Hawaii, he’d had no involvement in Banzai, just like he’d said.

  She drew in a breath and nodded. “It sounds like an awesome opportunity.”

  “It is,” Taylor agreed.

  “Can we count you in for the exhibition?” Reggie asked.

  Laci shrugged. “Sure. I guess. I mean, I’m already here, right?”

  “Excellent,” Reggie said, slapping them both affectionately on the back as he stepped between them and continued walking. “It’s perfect, of course. Perfect. At the very least, this is certainly going to put you on the map.”

  “I’m sorry?” Confused, she stopped walking, forcing him to do the same. Yeah, exhibitions often got good coverage, but this one was being thrown together so fast she doubted it would have any exceptional pull with the media.

  “Cross promo with Danger Down Under,” Reggie said easily. “That’s the main thing we’re going for here. With your Australian connection we should be able to get some serious buzz going. Probably get some shots of you in a bikini with your surfboard. That should rev the media up.”

  “Buzz?” she repeated, turning to eye Taylor, who looked positively mortified. “Is this your idea?”

  “I don’t—”

  “Taylor saw the promotional potential the second I raised the idea of the exhibition. Sharp eye our boy has.”

  H
er head was spinning. She opened her mouth, but couldn’t speak.

  “It’s a shame we couldn’t wild card you in down there, too,” Reggie said, shooting what seemed to be a censuring look Taylor’s way. “But at least Taylor tossed your name into the wild-card mix for Banzai,” he added, and the words seemed to lodge in her heart, then twist like a knife.

  Reggie leaned close, pressed a fatherly hand on her shoulder, apparently unaware that she’d completely lost the ability to breathe. “We’re glad you’re here, Laci. Really glad to have you on board. Your presence is going to do a lot for these competitions. And the competitions will do a lot for you, too.”

  She couldn’t help it. And even if she could have, she doubted she would have stopped herself. But even as Reggie’s voice droned in her head—even as Taylor muttered useless words about Laci not understanding, and how it wasn’t what it seemed—she turned on her heel and raced down the beach to get as far away as possible from the man who’d lied to her, who’d used her once again.

  The man she’d been stupid enough to believe really loved her.

  Behind her, she heard the commotion that followed Reggie’s sharp intake of breath. She heard the rise and fall of their voices. She even heard Taylor behind her, his feet splashing in the surf as he ran to catch up to her.

  She considered lashing out again, screaming at him to get away from her. But she didn’t have the energy. She’d trusted him, it had backfired and that explosion had ripped a hole in her. A hole through which every ounce of strength had escaped, spiraling away to nothingness and leaving her a little girl all over again. A little girl with a mother who took what she wanted whether she deserved it or not.

  Laci wasn’t like that, dammit. She wasn’t like her mother at all.

  But that’s exactly what people would think when they learned that Taylor—the lying, scum-sucking creep—had put her up as the wild-card candidate for Banzai. And now—after they’d spent the weekend in bed—he suddenly wanted to cross promote her with Danger Down Under? It was San Clemente all over again, and the press was going to have a field day. The more Reggie promoted Banzai and the exhibition, the more the media would hang around. And the more dirt they would dig up.

  That wasn’t even the worst of it, though. What really hurt was that Taylor must think she was the kind of girl who wanted something for nothing, too. Otherwise, why not flat out tell her that he’d been responsible for her wild-card status? Why be all coy?

  And why have that guilty look on his face when Reggie’s unexpected presence made him reveal the truth before he was good and ready?

  It didn’t make sense.

  And damned if it didn’t make her heart hurt, too.

  He had the power to do that now—to make her heart hurt and her eyes fill with tears. She’d gotten over him, or close to it anyway, and then this week, he’d wormed his way back into her life just in time to hurt her again.

  For that, she hated him. Really hated him.

  “Laci.” He was right behind her.

  “Get away from me.”

  “I am not letting you walk away from me over something that you don’t understand.”

  “I understand just fine.”

  “No. You don’t.”

  “Dammit, Taylor—” He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her up, then moved around so that he was facing her.

  “Listen to me,” he said. “Listen to me and then you can cut me off at the knees. But first, at least listen.”

  “It’s San Clemente all over again,” she said, voicing the words that had been spinning in her head.

  “Why? Because you’re a brilliant surfer and I wanted you in a competition? In case you didn’t notice, that’s what people who run competitions do—we try to get the best. And you know what? Even though you’re right up there at the top, I told Reggie I didn’t want you for Danger. He thought I was completely nuts, but I said no. Do you know why?”

  “I haven’t got the slightest idea,” she said, itching to get away from him. She couldn’t focus, and all she could concentrate on was being free and alone, because she couldn’t think when Taylor was near her, and right then, she needed to concentrate.

  “Because I figured it would weird you out. Having any sort of a connection to me.”

  That got her attention. “You think it’s you? It’s not you. It’s me. It’s what it does to me.”

  7

  TAYLOR STARED at her, trying to understand what she was saying, but having no luck.

  “Taylor, don’t you get it? Don’t you know how ashamed I felt? Like all the praise and accolades were coming at me because I’d slept with you? Do you think I’m that kind of girl?” Laci demanded.

  “I don’t,” he said. “And neither does anyone who’s seen you surf.”

  “But it’s true, dammit. Can you honestly deny that you got me into San Clemente as a wild card because you were sleeping with me?”

  He opened his mouth to do just that, then closed it again, a fact that she jumped all over.

  “See?” she said, pointing at him.

  He grabbed her finger, pulled her close. “No, Laci. You see. Yes. I made you a wild card at San Clemente because we were dating, but that only put you on my radar. If you’d been a hack—a sexy, wonderful, loveable girl who couldn’t surf her way out of a swimming pool—I’d have kept on dating you, but I wouldn’t have bothered getting you on the lineup. But you were good. Damn good. And you deserved a break. And you know what else? I was thrilled that I could give it to you. I was so stupidly, hopelessly naive that I was honestly excited that I was in a position to help out the woman I loved.”

  “Taylor—”

  He held up a hand. “No. My turn to talk right now. Because you freaked and you ran, and I never really understood why. Because you have talent. Real talent. And I had no idea why you didn’t want to show it off.” He drew in a breath. “Maybe I get that the press embarrassed you, and the innuendoes were unfair. But we could have handled it together. We didn’t get the chance, though, because you ran. And now you’re running again, and this time it’s because you don’t trust me.”

  “Now,” she said, “it has nothing to do with you. But I don’t want anything to do with your exhibition or Banzai or Danger Down Under. I’m pulling out, Taylor.”

  “I know,” he said, watching her face and feeling the loss as she broke away without telling him why. Because the reasons she was giving him weren’t reasons. There was something else under there, something they had to get to because if they didn’t, they could never really be a couple. San Clemente—this dark, abstract mess—would forever taint their relationship. “You need to talk to me, Laci. You need to tell me why.”

  “The hell I do.”

  He watched her face, looking into the eyes he’d come to know so well, and he saw determination. A strong resolve. And yeah, he saw regret, too. He moved forward and took her hands, trying with silence to express everything he felt for her. Everything he wanted for them. “Help me to understand. Please. I know you want this, Laci. More than that, you need it. You’ve told me you’re hoping for a sponsor. And I know you can use the money. I’ve been following your career, remember? So why back out? Why not go out there on the waves and show what you can do?”

  “And how nice of you to arrange all that for me. The press. The opportunity. It’s so sweet,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “to have it all dumped in my lap like that.”

  He couldn’t help it; he snapped. “You know what? Forget it. You don’t want this? Fine. You were never on my professional agenda, Laci, so it’s no skin off my teeth. Reggie’s the one making plans for you and Danger and the cross-promotion. That’s been his gig from the get-go, and I realize now that’s why he was so keen on having you be the Banzai wild card. And yeah, maybe that does suck. But it doesn’t mean that you didn’t earn the slot. One isn’t exclusive of the other.”

  “So you think I should stay in,” she snapped.

  “Hell, yes. I think you’d be a f
ool to back out, but I’m not about to ask you to do something you’re uncomfortable with. So if you’re out, you’re out, and no hard feelings. Not many, anyway.”

  She blinked in surprise, and he sighed. “I have to go. I’ve got forty-eight hours to put together a big, high-energy, heavily promoted exhibition that will draw a stellar crowd. The woman I love could help me do that, but I’m not asking her to. I want that to be perfectly clear,” he said, stepping closer and making sure she was watching his face, seeing the truth there. “I’m not asking. I’m not forcing. I’m not even suggesting. What I am doing is leaving.”

  “Love?” she repeated.

  He laughed, the harsh sound bubbling up from his throat. “Yeah, isn’t that a pisser? I say I love you, and I have a feeling it’s the last thing in the world that you want to hear.”

  And then he kissed her hard on the mouth, turned without another word and strode firmly away from her.

  LACI CARRIED the sensation of his kiss with her for the rest of the night and into the next morning. She woke up off center and still slightly baffled by his speech. He really didn’t understand why she’d pulled out. He had no clue, and yeah, he was completely pissed off.

  But even though he was angry—and even though her participation in both the exhibition and the competition could help his career—he wasn’t going to push her to do it.

  That could only mean one thing—he really loved her. She’d known it. She’d believed it.

  Now she’d seen it in action, and it humbled her. Humbled her because she couldn’t return the same selfless act. She couldn’t sign up for the exhibition and go through with the competition just to help him.

  She couldn’t do that and live with herself.

  She needed to get to the top because of her surf skills. Not because she was dating the event promoter or because she grew up in Australia or because she looked hot in a bikini. That was too much like her mom, trading whatever she could for their condo. Whoring herself out for an advantage.

  She shuddered, not wanting those memories to intrude.

  She was in her bedroom, spread out across the bedspread, when a noise in the other room made her sit up. Drea or JC, she presumed, and because she wanted company, she hoisted herself up and headed out into the living area.

 

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