Silently she turned away then, walking down the hall and to the door. She didn’t know where she was going but she knew she needed distance between them.
Garrett stood where she left him, his whole body rigid with denial. He heard the screen door open and close and her footsteps crossed the porch. Then he couldn’t hear her anymore.
Finally he couldn’t take the silence. He slammed the kitchen door behind him with a satisfying bang but the harsh sound did little to assuage the rage that boiled and churned inside him. His stomach hurt and his hands shook. His chest felt like it was banded with a restricting bar of iron. His thoughts whirled like a tornado, fragments rushing by too quickly for him to hang on to, torn away by the force of the gale.
Why would she lie to him like that? Surely she wasn’t crazy enough to think he’d buy such an outrageous story. He swallowed repeatedly, but the lump in his throat wouldn’t budge. Disappointment mushroomed, filling every corner of his being.
How could he have been so wrong about her? She’d seemed so different. But in the end, she wanted him for her personal gain, just as Kammy had. The only question now was how long she’d keep up the pretense of being wounded before she tried to get him to support her as he’d offered.
And she was wrong about him, he assured himself. The past didn’t enter into this equation, except for its role in making him smarter and less gullible. His father had been a jerk, but that had nothing to do with today. Nothing.
He walked out onto the deck, noting that Ana was sitting on the edge of the dock, her feet dangling in the water. Abruptly he turned away, heading for the hiking trail that led around the lake. Angrily he kicked at sticks and pebbles as he strode along the path, then he veered away from the trail and began to hike through less accessible terrain. The physical challenge as he hiked over and around boulders and downed trees expended the worst of his first furious reaction, and a bone-deep sadness seeped in, chilling him despite his exertion.
Why? Why had she told him that?
Robin’s heir would be entitled to a sizable portion of his estate, whispered an insidious little voice in his head.
Exactly. When she’d begun to speak, he’d felt his heart sink to his toes, leaving a leaden heaviness behind. Hadn’t he told her he’d take care of her needs? Apparently that wasn’t enough. She’d wanted more. A lot more.
Then an equally insistent thought intruded. You could be wrong. Maybe she was telling the truth.
Nah. He rejected it immediately. Of course she wasn’t Robin’s daughter. Robin would have told him about that.
Wouldn’t he?
For the first time in years, a tremor of insecurity rocked the stable world his stepfather had given him. I’ll introduce you to her soon. I believe you’ll like her. There hadn’t been any hint of a leer, though Robin was too much of a gentleman for that anyway. But the quiet happiness that had shone from his still-vivid blue eyes had been unmistakable. He’d cared deeply for her. And back when Garrett assumed that Robin’s ladylove was a dignified widow, he’d had no problem with it.
The problem had occurred when he’d met her and wanted her for himself.
Garrett stopped dead in the path. Slowly he lowered himself onto a rotting log and sat with his elbows on his knees, hands dangling between his knees while his breathing leveled out.
Good God. Was this all about jealousy? He was uncomfortably afraid that was exactly what had transpired.
How would he have felt if the older woman of his imaginings had inherited half the cottage? He forced himself to examine the scenario honestly. He would have been annoyed. More than annoyed. But would he have treated her as he’d treated Ana?
Absolutely, positively not.
An older woman, though, wouldn’t be claiming to be Robin’s biological daughter, he reminded himself.
He sat for a long, long time, watching the sun-dappled patterns of light and shadows play over the path and the edge of the lake where the trees grew right down to the rocks. Finally, as the shadows lengthened, he rose and started back toward the cottage.
It was a good thing the month had come to an end, he told himself firmly. He and Ana would only have one more uncomfortable night to get through before they headed back to Baltimore in the morning. He lifted a hand and pressed two fingers to his chest to relieve the pressure that centered there. Indigestion. That’s all it was.
They wouldn’t be spending that last night together.
He plodded on. As the cottage came into view between the trees, regret rose too large to suppress. The thing was, he could have been happy with Ana. She was comfortable to be with. He’d known enough women to know how rare it was to find someone with whom a shared silence wasn’t a strain. In bed, he’d never known a woman so generous with herself, so able to rouse him to passion, so desirable. They both enjoyed the leisurely pace of life at the cottage, and he was certain she’d prefer a quiet lifestyle to a whirlwind trip to a high-rolling place like Las Vegas, as he did. She was a good cook, a quick wit, so tender-hearted that he longed to make the world perfect so that her heart would never be broken—
His feet stilled again. An inexorable tide of dread rose within him as he finally stopped lying to himself and faced the truth. He’d done exactly that—broken Ana’s heart.
And his own, as well. The truth slapped him in the face.
Yes, he’d been jealous of Robin’s relationship with her…because he’d wanted her for himself from the very first time he’d seen her. But even more, he’d begun to fall in love with her as he’d come to know her. He loved Ana.
In a single white-hot instant of clarity, he realized how little meaning his life would have without her. He could imagine waking to the sight of her glowing face each morning. He could imagine sharing the ups and downs of business and daily life with her. He could even, he realized with a sense of amazement, imagine adding a couple of kids to their lives: little girls with their mother’s wild curls.
But the images froze as he recalled the devastation in her face before she’d walked away from him. He’d hurt her deeply, for reasons that now seemed petty and invalid. How could he make her understand that no matter how they’d first come together, he wanted to be with her forever?
A hint of panic touched his heart and he began to run up the path toward the cottage. He had a strong prescience of disaster, foreboding. He had to talk to Ana right away.
Inside he rushed up the stairs but she wasn’t in her room. The door stood open, the room was empty. Not empty as in without a body, but unoccupied. Everything of any personal meaning gone.
A tiny demon of fear danced inside his gut as he forced himself to enter her studio. Also deserted. The counters were pristine and uncluttered again, the big worktable untouched. His gaze shot to the window beneath which she’d set her sewing machine, but the spot was as blank as it had been the day they’d arrived.
His lungs burned, and he realized he’d been holding his breath. Releasing it, he took a burning gasp of air. Ana was gone.
Nine
Ana was gone.
Her little car was no longer parked beneath the birches. Slowly Garrett moved down the stairs, confirming her flight with each step. Her beach towels no longer fluttered from the rail of the deck in the gentle breeze. The cat’s bowl no longer occupied its place in the corner.
He stood in the middle of the kitchen, big hands lax at his sides. She’d left, and he really couldn’t blame her. He’d been brutal. Moving into his office, he sat down in front of his computer, dashing off a quick request to his office manager in Baltimore to let him know when Ana Birch returned home, no matter how late it was, or how early tomorrow. He’d have to go after her and apologize.
He glanced up from the computer at the sketch of Robin that had hung on the wall for years, since the office had originally been Robin’s. It was one of his favorite images of Robin, clad in a casual sweater and pants. He sat on a rock by the lake in three-quarter view, a coffee cup cradled in both hands. A slight smile curved h
is lips, his eyes gazed into the distance. Garrett had seen him sit in that very pose more times than he could count.
“Well, old man, what do I do now?” he asked rhetorically, feeling the weight of hopelessness descend upon his soul. “You were right when you said I’d like her.”
He stood and moved restlessly to the window. Something was bothering him, though he couldn’t put his finger on it. Something…
Suddenly he snapped his fingers. Turning, he looked again at the picture of his stepfather. He’d never realized it before, but the picture had to have been drawn here, by a skilled artist who knew Robin well enough to capture that sweetly absorbed expression he often wore.
The hair on the back of his neck rose in automatic reflex as the truth kicked him in the face. Ana’s mother had drawn this.
Walking across the room, his eyes scanned the bottom portion of the sketch—there. There, in the bottom left-hand corner: JB. And the date, all in a miniscule, elaborate cursive that looked as if she’d been drilled in the Palmer Method as a young girl.
Slowly he groped his way back to his desk without taking his eyes from the sketch. Sagging into his chair, he tilted his face toward the ceiling, closing his eyes as he exhaled heavily. An unyielding fist squeezed his chest, making it hard to breathe. He hadn’t wanted to believe her but deep down, he’d known she wasn’t lying.
And the proof hung right over there on the wall. Ana had told him her mother had gone through a brief pen and pencil phase before moving on to oils early in her career. Robin and Janette Birch had come here together, indeed, had created the cottage with their mutual needs in mind. And Ana’s mother had sketched her lover in the setting where they’d been happy. No wonder Robin seemed to leap off the paper—Janette Birch had known him so well she probably could have drawn it without even having him in front of her. Just as Ana had drawn him.
Ana should have told him right away—but as he remembered his behavior in Baltimore, he knew he’d brought this on himself. No wonder she hadn’t told him. He’d barely given her a chance. And she’d probably realized early on that he’d call her a liar when she tried to explain.
He dropped his head into his hands and speared his fingers through his hair, tugging hard enough to make himself wince. He’d been utterly, completely despicable to her. Smug, condescending, superior. God, how would he ever get her to forgive him?
Abruptly he spun on his heel and headed for the stairs to pack. He needed to get back to Baltimore. But halfway there, he stopped abruptly. Her friends!
Ana wouldn’t leave Maine without saying goodbye to her friends. He might have made some monumental misjudgments where Ana was concerned, but he knew how she felt about friendship. She’d never take off without talking to Teddy and his wife first.
Grabbing his car keys, he made one brief stop in the study before racing up the path to his truck.
It was a good thing cops in rural Maine were few and far between, he decided, or he’d have been nailed for exceeding the speed limit ten times over in his rush to get to town. When he pulled onto Main Street and saw the familiar little car parked in front of the art supply store, a wave of intense relief swamped him. He pulled into a parking space and simply sat for a moment, dropping his head forward to rest against his hands atop the steering wheel.
Thank God he’d caught her.
He straightened and began to climb out of the car. The momentary rush had faded and his steps felt leaden and hesitant. What could he say to her to fix the mess he’d made of things between them?
He was almost at the front door of the art supply shop when he saw Ana walking toward the door. His gaze met hers through the glass and she stopped for an instant, then slowly began to exit the store.
She forestalled him by asking, “Did I forget something?”
“No.” How was he going to change her mind?
They stood there awkwardly for a long moment. Finally she took a wide step that would allow her to pass him.
“Ana, I don’t want you to leave.” He turned as she moved past him and walked with her toward the cars.
She shook her head without looking at him. “I have to,” she whispered. “Please don’t, Garrett.” Her car was parked in front of his larger vehicle and she wrenched the door open, fumbling for her keys. “You can have the cottage,” she said. “When I get back, I’ll go to Mr. Marrow’s office and sign anything he needs to make you the sole owner.”
“I don’t want it,” he said. “I want you. If you won’t share it with me, I’ll sell it.”
Shock snapped her head up. “You wouldn’t do that. Robin wanted you to have it.”
“Your father wanted us to have it,” he said.
“He—” Then his words sank in. “My father…?”
“I didn’t want to believe you,” he said. “I was jealous. Robin was my father in all the ways that mattered, and I couldn’t stand the thought of someone else meaning more to him.”
“Robin loved you so much,” she said quietly. “No one could ever have taken your place in his life.”
“I know that now,” he said. “I’m sorry for all the things I said to you.” His voice lowered. “The things I believed.”
“Thank you.” She appeared to have trouble getting the words out and she made a show of looking at her watch. “I have to go now.”
But as she moved to slide into her car, Garrett caught her wrist. “I love you.”
She stopped. “What?”
He slid to one knee, still holding her wrist, and he brought it to his mouth as he spoke again. “Ana, I love you. I want to marry you.”
“Stand up,” she said in a low voice, “and stop it. We’re on Main Street!”
“I don’t care.” He didn’t move.
Wildly she glanced around. Down the street, he could see a few tourists turning and staring. A man came out of the post office, glanced their way, and then stopped for a second look.
She tried to tug her hand free. “Garrett—”
“Marry me,” he said again.
A bell trilled and he saw that Teddy had come out of his shop. “Everything okay?” her friend asked.
“Yes—”
“No,” Garrett said. “I love her and I want to marry her. She hasn’t said yes yet.”
“Maybe that’s because she doesn’t feel the same way,” Teddy said in a cool voice.
A sudden spear of uncertainty shot through him. “You said you loved me.” But there was a hint of vulnerability in his tone and his grip on her wrist lessened.
A tear rolled down her cheek and she swiped at it with her free hand. “I do,” she managed to say.
He stood and pulled her into his arms, folding her small body against him with all the tenderness he was feeling. “I don’t want to wake up without you beside me,” he said. “I don’t want to spend a day wondering where you might be or if you’ve thought of me. I don’t want to be like Robin, missing the only woman I’ll ever love until the day I die.” He ran his hands up and down her back. “I love you,” he said again.
She swallowed. “It’s not just sex?”
A chuckle from Teddy made them both stop and look his way. “A man doesn’t chase a woman down Main Street and declare his love in front of half the town just for sex,” he said, grinning. “I think he means it.”
“I’ll shout it loud enough for every one of them to hear if you want me to,” he told her.
“No,” she said hastily.
“Then say yes.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, overcome with the need to make her see how much he needed her.
“Yes.” Her voice was a whisper.
Relief nearly made his knees buckle. “You’ll marry me?”
“Yes,” she said again. She pulled back enough to see his face, and a dawning radiance broke through the sadness that had shrouded her features. “Yes!”
“All right!” said Teddy.
Garrett barely heard him. All his attention was focused on Ana as he hauled her off her feet and swung her in
a wide circle on the sidewalk. Clapping and laughter erupted from the people along the street. Her arms wound around his neck and he held her closely against him as he halted, searching for her mouth and kissing her deeply.
“I love you,” he said. “And you’re marrying me. Anything else is negotiable.”
“Children?” she asked in a hopeful tone.
“As long as they don’t come in pairs like his.” He jerked his head in Teddy’s direction. Then the import of their words hit him. “Grandchildren,” he murmured. “Our children will be Robin’s grandchildren.”
Ana’s eyes were bright with tears, but she was smiling. “Nothing would have made him happier.” Then she shook her head. “That old matchmaker.”
“Matchmaker? More like manipulator,” Garrett said, chuckling. “He knew I wouldn’t be able to resist you any more than he could have your mother.” He drew her close for another kiss. “Let’s go home and make wedding plans.”
“All right.” She trailed a finger over his lips and his blood heated at the look in her eyes. “Let’s go home.”
ISBN: 978-1-4592-0058-6
BILLIONAIRE BACHELORS: GARRETT
Copyright © 2002 by Anne Marie Rodgers
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York, NY 10017 U.S.A.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
Billionaire Bachelors: Garrett Page 14