He was still bare-chested but must have found a pair of sleep pants. In the firelight, the muscles and cuts of his bare chest looked like an artist had painted them.
“Wow.” Amanda ventured closer. “I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be. All I did was find the switch and turn on a gas fireplace.” He stood, his body on full display, the drawstring around his waist loose enough so the pants fell over narrow hips, revealing more of his masculine form. “And I found some basic necessities in the armoire there. I should have known our hosts would provide sleepwear.”
She pulled the robe a little tighter, more for protection than reluctance to give up its warmth for some flimsy nightgown. “They thought of everything.”
“C’mere,” he said, reaching for her hand. “Unless you want to go back to sleep.”
She shook her head and walked closer, where he’d laid their comforter on the floor between a small sofa and the fire. The French doors were ajar, so she could still hear the sound of rain and thunder.
“The wet bar’s stocked,” he said. “You want anything?”
She considered that but then shook her head. “Too early for coffee and too late for wine.”
“That magic hour of four AM.” He took her hand. “Let’s enjoy the fire, and maybe you’ll fall back to sleep.”
Doubtful, but the offer was too good to fight, so she let him guide her to the floor, fluffing the down around them, making a soft bed. He leaned against the sofa, facing the fire, and she naturally—so, so naturally—curled against his chest and let him wrap an arm around her.
Silent for a moment, he stroked her hair.
“I don’t trust many people,” he said, the low baritone of his voice as soothing as the thunder outside.
Grateful he was initiating the shared revelations, she snuggled closer.
“I would imagine,” she said, staring into the dancing flames, “that when you are as successful and wealthy as you are, lots of people are out to use you.”
He made a small grunt of agreement in his throat, his fingers threading her hair slowly, circling one damp strand.
“I’m always stunned by how many fakes there are in the world,” he finally said.
The words hit low and hard, making her close her eyes while he continued.
“I guess because most of my life, I’ve really lived in and around numbers. Before those numbers translated to money, I knew who and what I could count on. But as the years went by, and I made more and more, I discovered that it is almost impossible to sift genuine people from phonies.”
“You have to trust your judgment,” she said.
“Funny thing about judgment. Mine seems to be in excellent working order when it comes to finance and business. I can smell a good investment, and my gut instinct is rarely wrong when sitting across the conference room table from a potential business partner.”
She waited, knowing there had to be a “but” to this confession.
“But with women?” He gave a wry chuckle. “Man, I suck in that department.”
“I find that hard to believe, Zeke. You’re gorgeous, you’re charming, you’re genuine, and you’re…”
“Loaded,” he finished for her.
“I wasn’t going to be that crass.”
He shrugged, moving one sizable shoulder under her head. “I am. It’s great, don’t get me wrong. Money buys freedom and houses and four-million-dollar baseball jerseys and a hell of a lot of security. I suppose, if I so choose, it could buy me companionship.”
Something dark in his tone made her look up. “They say it doesn’t buy happiness.”
He cupped her cheek, holding her face in his hand with such a gentle touch it made her eyes sting. “They’re right.”
“Aren’t you happy, Zeke?”
He didn’t answer, and her heart slipped a little. He stroked her cheek and met her gaze with one full of hurt and promise.
“Maybe you need…someone…” But not her. This was pretend…and pretend would end. It had to.
“Now you sound like my mother.”
“Maybe she’s right. Maybe you should…” She swallowed and rooted around for the right way to say this. “Maybe you should give some of those girls she’s bringing to the party a chance.”
He looked at her like she’d lost her mind, and then resumed his hair twirling and cheek caressing, their legs stretched out in front of them, his body stone still.
“I don’t want one of those girls.”
An icy cold fear tiptoed up her spine. Because she couldn’t be what he was looking for. She couldn’t.
“Have you ever given anyone a real chance?” she asked. “Surely you’ve met someone who you trusted.”
He didn’t respond, and she started to move to see his reaction, but he tensed his arm and kept her where she was, gathering up a handful of hair and bringing it to his nose to sniff. “You smell like rain.”
“Mmm.” She nestled closer, drawn to his warmth and body. “Good subject change.”
“I’m not…okay. Yeah. I got hurt.” He snorted softly, as if to say that was an understatement.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” She gave him a second to continue, but he didn’t. “How long ago?”
“Couple of years.” Another sarcastic snort. “Three years and three months, seventeen days.”
“Wow.” She sat up this time. “Must have been serious if you remember the date.”
“Well, I’m a math guy,” he said quickly, and then he gave a shake of his head, as if he were trying to erase that. “Everyone remembers their wedding date, Mandy.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it, letting the heartbreak in his voice settle over her. “Oh, no. Really?”
“Technically, rehearsal dinner.”
She inched back. “She broke up with you at your rehearsal dinner? Was she crazy?”
He laughed. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
“As you should. What kind of lunatic would leave a man like you?”
His eyes tapered into icy blue slits, zeroing in on her with enough intensity to send chills over her whole body. “Someday, Mandy Mitchell, I’m going to hold you to that.”
Only he wasn’t being playful. And if she wasn’t careful, she would have herself in way, way too deep. But, honestly, the man was attractive, rich, and had a heart of gold. “What was wrong with this woman?” she asked.
“Apparently, everything, but I was too blind to see.” He shook his head, pulling her back into him and drawing the comforter over their legs. “You want to hear the whole story?”
“Every gory detail. I’ve got all night.”
“It’s not that long. Or gory. We were at the rehearsal dinner, a banquet for family and friends at the Waldorf, and she got a call.” He paused for a minute, as though traveling through time to remember.
“I could tell it was urgent and upsetting because she left the table in a rush and was gone…a long time.” His fingers stilled on her hair. “I was worried about her, of course, so I went to check on her and finally found her…”
“Oh, no. She wasn’t…” Images of finding his fiancée in the middle of a tryst flashed in her mind.
“No, she was sobbing. Absolutely bawling her eyes out in an empty meeting room at the end of the hall.”
Amanda sat up. “What happened? Cold feet?”
“She was still in love with her other boyfriend.” His voice grew tight. “And he had broken up with her.”
“What the what?”
“No kidding. She’d been seeing someone for months, a married guy.” His voice went flat—absolutely dead from an old pain. “She thought they’d stay together while we got married, and eventually they’d both get divorced, and she’d walked away with money because chump, moron, trusting guy that I am, we had no prenup.”
“Oh, God.” And Amanda’s heart folded in half, stabbing her chest. No prenup. He’d trusted someone that much. “That had to hurt.”
“I made it out safely, but
, bottom line, I blame myself.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t see through her. I let lust and love and what I wanted more than anything—a partner in life—put blinders on me. She never loved me. She told me that night, all weepy and sobbing. She never loved me and…” He trailed off. “Man, I must sound like a loser.”
“No, not at all.” Her voice sounded thick in her throat, making it hard to talk. “You gave your heart and trusted and…” Heat crawled up through her as his words replayed. What I wanted more than anything—a partner in life.
What she wouldn’t give to be that woman.
The thought stunned her, making her instinctively pull away.
“Hey,” he said instantly, drawing her right back. “It’s your turn.”
No, her turn had come and gone, sadly. And now…knowing without a doubt what he wanted? Now she really should tell him everything.
“I did the same thing, Zeke. Only I married him, and it took about seven years to realize that he never loved me, either. And there was a prenup, not at all in my favor. You’re lucky you didn’t have to go through that kind of pain.”
He turned his face to press his mouth against her palm. “I don’t think it has to be painful. Not love and not...any part of being together.”
She knew exactly what he was referring to. She could tell him that much, right? “You’ve already figured out the gist of it.”
“Sort of.” He took her hand and pulled them both down to lie next to each other. “But since I told you my story, you have to tell me yours.”
She let him line up their bodies with him on his back and her head on his shoulder, their legs entwined. They sank into the fluffy down, and he wrapped them tighter together. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, and the thunder had quieted, and the only sound was the soft hiss of the gas fireplace and the steady thump of her pulse against her throat.
Waiting for that to slow to a normal rate, she didn’t talk, but let their breathing even out and match, her fingers on his chest, unable to resist touching him.
“He was a control freak,” she finally said. “In every aspect of life.”
“What does he do?”
Now? Who knew? “Commercial real estate.” She flattened her hand and enjoyed the steady beat of Zeke’s surprisingly dear and trusting heart. “He was very good at it, too. Well, when the market was strong, I mean. But I met him my senior year in college, and he was older by almost ten years and so…impressive. He seemed like the perfect husband. I really didn’t have any great career dreams, to be honest. I wanted to be a great wife, do volunteer work, have some kids, be happy. I could lie and say I was ambitious, but I wasn’t. Ironically, I’m more ambitious now.”
“And were you happy?”
“For a while. Before we got around to kids, though, I had a sense that things weren’t…perfect. Work was stressful, and the market was bad, and that made him…” Mean. “Rough.”
He puffed out a disgusted breath. “He hit you?”
“No, he never hit me. He didn’t beat me or ever make me scared for my safety. I wouldn’t have stayed with him, I swear. When I say he was rough, I mean...” She swallowed, then took a deep breath. “Sex. He liked things…not tender.” She almost laughed at the understatement. “Let’s just say he had a domineering streak that really got, um, exaggerated in the bedroom.”
Under her fingers, she felt his muscles tense and heart rate increase. “I take it that didn’t, um, do it for you.”
“Nope, not my style,” she said softly, slowly. “I didn’t want to do what he wanted to do.” She closed her eyes, washed with the degrading memories. The truth rose up, ready to come out. She should tell him…everything. But something stopped her. Fear, remorse, shame, the knowledge that this had to end one way or another so why make admissions that would only haunt her and hurt him?
“Everything needs to be mutual,” he said. “Whatever people do together, it has to be mutual.”
“Well, it wasn’t. So, eventually, we did nothing and he did whatever he did somewhere else. Of course, I filed for divorce.”
“You’re smart. You got out. Mandy, I admire your guts.”
A chain of guilt snagged her heart, squeezing her chest. “It didn’t take that much guts. But…” She swallowed the rest, absolutely unable to say the words.
“But what?”
“Well, I guess I feel kind of dumb, too. I signed the world’s most horrific prenup, and now I’m…” She looked up at him and smiled. “Now I’m a maid.”
“Not for long,” he reminded her. “You’ll be a business owner.”
She patted his chest and nodded. “Thank you, Zeke.”
“Hey, I’m happy to help you out.”
“I mean, thank you for this. For holding me and talking to me. For not trying to... I mean, I was…” Ready to fall into bed with him. “Not sure how this would go.”
He pulled her up closer, brushing a kiss on her temple, wiping away more damage with one kiss than he could ever realize. “I’d never hurt you, Mandy.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t,” he whispered. “But I’ll prove it to you. And once you’re sure, once you’re absolutely one hundred percent sure, we’ll make love.”
She closed her eyes and lifted her face, accepting the sweetest, softest, most beautiful kiss she’d ever had. “I’ll never be—”
“Yes, you will.” He feathered another kiss on her cheek, and her temple, and her ear. “You will be sure and ready and free. And the only tears you’ll shed will be from pleasure and joy.”
For a long time, Mandy just stared at the fire, both of them perfectly still until Zeke fell asleep in exactly that position. She watched him slumber, drank in the sunrise, and somehow managed to fight the tears as his last words played over in her head.
She might be sure. She might be ready. But she’d never be free. Not the way he wanted her to be. And that was the saddest thing she ever knew because sometime in the last few hours, this had ceased to be “pretend.” But it still had to end.
Chapter Ten
Amanda couldn’t breathe. Her heart pounded so hard she could hear each beat in her ears, and both of her palms sweat so much she had to turn them over to get some air on her skin. And she was shaking.
But Lacey Walker didn’t seem to notice any of that as she turned the last page of the proposal.
“I’m impressed, Amanda,” she said, finally looking up. “Simple, smart, incredibly efficient. I know I didn’t give you much time.”
Next to none, in fact. Amanda had called Lacey the day before to ask for a meeting, certain she’d be pushed back a week or more. But Lacey herself had called back almost immediately and invited Amanda to come in bright and early the next morning with her proposal.
Which wasn’t ready. But thanks to Zeke, who’d stayed at Amanda’s house until three that morning helping her put a plan together, she’d arrived here at nine, ready for Mimosa Maids to be considered for the outsourcing. They’d laughed, they’d argued, they’d finished, and somehow, they’d kept true to the letter of their contract. Clothes stayed on, even during a heated goodnight kiss.
A kiss that was going to lead to—
“But you wouldn’t do that, would you, Amanda?”
She might. For three days, she’d been getting closer. She blinked at Lacey, digging for a suitably vague answer to cover her wandering mind. There wasn’t one. “I’m sorry, Lacey, I’m nervous this morning and had about two hours’ sleep.”
Lacey broke into an easy smile. “I love that this means so much to you. I know the feeling.”
She was counting on that. “My plans are a lot smaller than building a resort.”
“Trust me, my plans were small, too.” Lacey tossed back some curls with a laugh. “Then I met the architect, and his ideas were much bigger than mine.” She held up her left hand to show a gold wedding band. “Much bigger.”
Amanda’s already pounding heart kicked up a notch just thinking
about that, taking her back to the mantra that had put her to sleep the last few nights. Pretend has to end. Pretend has to end.
After his father’s surprise party, Zeke would head back to New York, and his visits to Mimosa Key would be so infrequent, he’d surely forget her. Would she forget him?
She’d have to.
“My question is about the staffing. A big part of J&T’s plan is to hire existing staff we have now and dedicate them to Casa Blanca. Are you prepared to do that?”
“There are several staff members I’d like to interview and consider, and I may hire new as well. I’m not afraid of working here every day until we have a fully trained housekeeping staff.”
She nodded, considering that. “I like that. I know Jared is planning to move Tori into the office, and she won’t be training staff.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I need to give this some thought, Amanda, but I’m very intrigued by your ideas. Especially this Mega-Green cleaning line, which you’ve managed to make cost effective. Others promise similar things, but the fees for environmentally friendly products are sky-high.”
Because Zeke owned a stake in the chemical development firm looking for beta testers of the new product line, she’d been able to get an amazing price on “green cleaners.”
“I’m excited about that, too,” Amanda said.
Lacey fluttered through the pages again, slowing on a spreadsheet and graph Zeke had created, nodding slowly. “Yes, this is quite an impressive piece of work.” She closed the binder with a snap. “I’ll be making a decision shortly.”
“If there’s anything else I can do, Lacey, just let—”
“Yes, there is.”
Amanda leaned forward, ready for whatever she suggested. A test run, another interview, more numbers. “Anything.”
“Accept my apology,” Lacey said softly.
Didn’t see that coming. “It’s fine, Lacey. You’re running a business.”
“Mr. Nicholas came and personally spoke on your behalf.”
She nodded, knowing he’d done that from the first night he showed up at her house with five thousand dollars in his pocket.