“Zeke, I really shouldn’t…”
“Shhh.” He feathered kisses over her breastbone, tugging the strapless dress lower and lower until her breasts were revealed. He dipped his head to kiss one and caress the other, making her gasp and arch her back.
“Oh, my…”
He ran his tongue over her nipple, loving the hard bud and sweet taste, sucking hard enough to make a noise. Blood rushed in his head, amazing him that there was any left there, considering how much had flowed to his lower half.
Still, he fought to hold back, easing that dress down, watching her chest rise and fall and seem to fight a losing battle.
Her head moved back and forth, almost as if she was saying…no. He paused for a moment, so hyperaware of her fears, stilling his hands.
“Zeke, we…can’t.”
“We can,” he whispered, inching his way up to kiss her mouth and talk to her. “We really can.”
“But…there’s this paper…”
He laughed softly. “You’re going to hold me to that contract?”
For a minute, her whole body stilled, and then she looked at him. “What good is a contract if you ignore it?”
Was she serious? “How about I burn it?”
“Zeke, I have to… there’s something—”
A soft tap on the outside door cut her off and made him frown. “Did you hear that?”
“Housekeeping!”
Her eyes widened. “It’s Tori!”
“Shit.” He pushed off the bed. “Don’t move. I’ll take care of her.”
“Zeke, wait.” She grabbed his arm. “I have to tell you something. It’s important. I have to—”
“Housekeeping!” She was inside!
He let out a disgusted grunt. “Does she think this is how to keep guests happy? Hold your thought, I’ll be right back.”
Why would she come in, he wondered as he marched down the hall. The wall safe where he kept valuables was hidden in the dining area, but she’d know that. She wouldn’t know the combination, though. He turned into the living room and found her putting something on the coffee table.
“What the hell do you want?”
She straightened, unafraid or even surprised to see him. “I’ve left something for you, sir.”
At this hour? “What is it?”
“Oh, a special gift from housekeeping.” She gave a tight smile. “Hope the sheets were clean enough for you and Mrs. Lockhart.”
She pivoted and walked to the door, yanking it open and disappearing into the dark. What the hell? He grabbed the envelope but didn’t bother to open it, too eager to get back to Mandy.
On his way out, he stepped into the dining room and opened the cabinet where the safe was, tapping in the digital combination he’d set. Deep in the safe, he found the paper towel they’d used to write their contract.
It was time to put those candle flames to good use.
In the bedroom door, he paused, blinking into the flickering light when he didn’t see Mandy on the bed. Or anywhere. “Mandy?” He checked the bathroom, but the door was open and the lights were off.
Where did she go? The French doors to the patio were open, and he stepped closer, seeing her immediately, walking by the pool, her arms wrapped around herself as she whispered, like she was…
Talking to herself? Like she was...practicing what she wanted to say to him?
His heart nearly collapsed. She’d had so much pain, so many fears. But he didn’t care. He’d conquer every one of them. He’d beat anything and anyone down to have her in his arms, afraid of nothing.
He started to go outside but decided to give her a minute. Let her gather her thoughts and make her speech.
Instead, he dropped into a chair in the sitting area and ripped open the envelope that had his name on it. He unfolded the paper inside, frowning at the legal document as he tipped it to read by candlelight.
“What is this?” He turned the paper closer to the flame and squinted at the tiny print, a seal at the top, and names…he recognized.
A slow, icy chill wormed through his body as the words almost made sense. All of the words. Even the maid’s parting shot.
Hope the sheets were clean enough for you and Mrs. Lockhart.
“Zeke.”
He looked up, surprised to find Mandy a foot away, her arms still crossed, her face streaked with tears. He blinked at her.
“I’m still married.” The words were barely a breath of air.
He let the paper flutter to the floor. “I know.”
Chapter Twelve
The thing that buckled Amanda’s knees wasn’t that he knew her secret...it was how stricken he looked. He stared at her with vacant eyes, the slightest frown of pain and disbelief pulling his brow, his whole body hunched in a self-protective posture.
She knelt in front of him. “I was trying to tell you.”
“Now?” The word ground out like one syllable of agony. “How about, oh, a week ago?”
“I didn’t think it mattered a week ago.”
“You didn’t—”
“This wasn’t real, Zeke!”
He straightened at the force of her words, leaning back, looking at her...as if for the first time. With all that awe and joy and interest and attraction she’d been basking in for the past week wiped away, replaced by raw hurt.
That was the worst part. “The fact is, I’m legally bound—”
“To your husband.” Anger darkened his words.
“To a nondisclosure agreement that is part of the world’s most horrific prenup. I really cannot talk about my husband or where he is, but that’s easy enough because I don’t know where he is.”
He stared at her, the only thing moving on his body were the tips of his fingers, which slowly dug into the armrests of the chair with the same pressure she imagined they’d like to dig into her chest and rip out her heart right now.
And that was the only reason she had to break the agreement and risk the truth.
“He’s a criminal,” she said softly.
He still didn’t speak, searching her face and waiting for more.
“He took millions of dollars for a fake real estate investment and to develop this big park and residential area in Tampa. He swindled five investors out of about ten million dollars and claimed to have a bank guarantee from somewhere in Switzerland and a commitment from some fund in New York. It was all lies. He thought he could float money, finish one project and start another...” She closed her eyes, almost relieved to be saying this to someone other than a federal investigator.
“We were divorced, for all intents and purposes. I’d moved out, had a plan, even had a little bit of money. All the paperwork was done, I was walking away with nothing, but he had one more paper to sign.” Her voice cracked. “He refused and disappeared that night.”
His fingers pressed harder. “Why wasn’t he arrested?”
“They can’t find him, and he won’t come back into this country. Because we weren’t divorced, I had to turn over whatever money I could to the federal government. My name is on many of his documents, and I’m trying, dollar by dollar, to pay people back, and the investigators insist I use my married name so anyone he owes money to can find me.”
“They don’t know where he is?” He sounded incredulous.
“I’ve heard he’s in Croatia, and Australia, and Singapore, and the latest sighting was Hong Kong. There’s some extradition glitch with criminals there, so he might think he’s safe. I used every dime I had left to pay for a private investigator. All I want him to do is sign the piece of paper and let me be free of this marriage and this debt and the weight of...my past. I want to be free.”
She dropped down to sit on the floor, the pressure of the story almost too much for her. Zeke made no effort to reach out to her or even soften the look on his face.
“In my prenuptial agreement, there is a line that says I can’t reveal anything I know about his business, so I’m in a really bad position.”
?
??That’s void if he’s a criminal.”
“One would think, and I certainly told the investigators everything I knew, but...I’m afraid if I break that agreement, I’ll never get him to sign that decree. I keep hoping he will meet a woman and want to sign it, but...”
She’d never imagined she’d meet someone. Someone so good and right and real that he made everything she thought she knew about powerful men seem wrong.
Quiet for a long time, he finally swallowed and nodded. “If you really wanted to, you could find him.”
The allegation stung. “Trust me, I want to.” Now, more than ever.
“Do you? Or are you protecting yourself, Mandy? Do you want to be certain you don’t have to take another risk so you stay…married?”
“No,” she answered without hesitation.
“Really? Because you crave independence, but you don’t go after it.”
She let out a soft, shuddering sigh. “I don’t know how,” she admitted.
Finally, he nodded. “I understand.”
“You do?” She barely understood, so how could he?
“I wish you’d told me, but—”
“I thought this was strictly business, Zeke.”
He closed his eyes, like the words were a direct hit to his heart. “That’s where I made my first mistake.” He pushed up, stepping around her. “But I won’t make a second.”
The words sounded cold and harsh and...deserved. She inched back as he walked away.
“Would you like me to drive you home?” he asked.
For some reason, that question did her in. The dismissal of it. The finality. And, no, she didn’t want him to drive her home. She couldn’t bear to be alone tonight.
“I’ll sleep upstairs, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind.”
Tears burned behind her lids. Pushing up, she stood and watched him walk across the room, not sure what to do. Then he stood very still, as if he was having an internal debate.
Turn around, Zeke. Turn around and forgive me. Turn around and take me in your arms and tell me that we’ll figure this out.
He didn’t move.
“Zeke...”
“I have to make a phone call,” he said, the tone still utterly...icy.
She deserved that. Without a word, she walked out and padded up the stairs, closing the door in the guest room but not locking it. Because she still hoped he’d come up to her.
An hour passed, and she was still alone. Still in a frothy pink dress he’d bought for her, alone in a guest room she’d cleaned for him not a week ago.
She rolled up on the bed, pulled the comforter over her and finally, fitfully fell asleep. When she opened her eyes, the very first whisper of dawn touched the morning sky beyond the plantation shutters she hadn’t bothered to close.
And she was still alone.
Pushing up from the bed, she wiped sleep away and waited for the realization that she’d had a very bad dream. But it was no dream. She opened the door and peered into the dark, and then tiptoed down the stairs, sensing something different about the villa. Emptiness.
“Oh, no, please.” The words slipped out from behind her fingers, as if she could contain the pain she knew she was about to endure.
She went straight down the hall to the master bedroom and into the open door. The room was empty, the rose petals and candles out of sight, the Egyptian cotton sheets stripped off the bed.
Any sign that Zeke Nicholas had been a guest was gone.
* * *
Amanda wasted no time doing what she had to do. At eight-thirty that morning, she was waiting outside Lacey’s office, hoping to be the first meeting of the day for the Casa Blanca owner.
As Lacey came around the corner, she slowed her step and gave a warm smile in greeting. “Amanda, I love your ambition,” she said with a laugh. “You aren’t going to wait for me to make this decision, are you?”
Amanda swallowed hard, smoothing her hands over her dress. “Actually, I’ve come to withdraw my proposal, Lacey.”
Amber-brown eyes widened in surprise and disappointment. “Why?”
She’d never say. “And I also am here to ask if you’d consider letting me have my old job back.”
Lacey let out a low sigh, clearly not thrilled with either request. “Come on in, let’s talk.”
But there would be no talking—not openly. Just some begging. She had to repay Zeke somehow. She’d spent two thousand of his loan starting her business, and she wanted to pay back every dime, as quickly as possible. This was the most expeditious way she could think of.
In the office, Amanda perched on the edge of the guest chair, while Lacey followed her in, hooked her bag on the back of the door and closed it with a sharp snap. “What happened?” she asked before she even sat down.
“My...my...” She hadn’t expected Lacey to ask. “My financing fell through,” she finally said. And that was kind of the truth.
“Yes, I saw his name on the morning checkout list.”
Amanda closed her eyes, unable to meet Lacey’s gaze. “Don’t judge,” she whispered.
Lacey surprised her with a sharp laugh. “Judge? You are talking to the wrong woman. Honey, I have been there and done that and have the baby to prove it doesn’t always go south when a man helps you out. So, what happened?” she repeated.
“I...he...we...” She laughed at her pathetic stuttering, taking a deep breath to find some composure. “It’s a long story.”
“I like long stories, but give me the abbreviated version. He wanted more than you’re willing to give?”
A warm blush rose up. “Am I that transparent?”
“No, he was. When he came to our house, the guy was already half gone. But I know you’re a private woman, so I haven’t been able to read your take.” She leaned forward, dropping her chin on her knuckles. “He’s a catch. Great-looking, wealthy, caring. What’s his fatal flaw?”
“He doesn’t have one,” Amanda admitted glumly. “I do.”
“And it is?”
She nodded. “You’re right about me. Private. And so’s my answer to that question.”
Lacey grew quiet, considering a reply. “You know what meeting my husband made me realize?” She lifted her hand as if to say, Don’t bother, it’s a rhetorical question. Then she leaned closer, narrowing her eyes. “When it’s real, anything is possible.”
Her chest squeezed. “This wasn’t real.” It was, in fact, imaginary.
“Then better you learn that now before you make any lifelong mistakes, right?”
Right. “I guess.”
“I was going to give you the business.”
Damn, damn, damn. “I can’t do it, Lacey. I have to pay back his loan. Otherwise...” I’m no better than my husband, the swindler. “I shouldn’t have taken it in the first place.”
“Well, that’s a shame, because I loved your proposal. And I have some serious issues with Tori and Jared. For the time being, I’ll continue to manage housekeeping through the resort and revisit the outsourcing at a later date. Maybe by then you can re-bid for the job.”
“Maybe.” But she sounded about as confident as she felt. Like, maybe pigs could fly. “But right now, I need an income. Can I work for you again?”
Before she answered, her phone rang. “Hang on,” she said, lifting the receiver on her desk. “Lacey Walker.”
As Lacey listened to her caller, Amanda waited, her heart still hammering from making the request.
“She did what?” Lacey’s voice rose as she stood, sounding astonished by whatever news had just been delivered. “Take her passkey and send her to my office.”
Lacey clicked off the call and remained standing, looking down at Amanda. “When he checked out, Mr. Nicholas reported that Tori broke into his villa at one in the morning. Do you know if that’s true?”
“She used her passkey. I was there.”
Lacey puffed out a breath and fell back into her chair. “I’m letting her go.”
Ding,
dong, the witch is dead. Small consolation now.
“But then I have some scheduling problems.”
“I’ll help you,” Amanda said, leaning forward. “I’ll work anytime, any job, anything.”
Lacey’s smile was slow and kind of sad as she shook her head. “You really need to have your own business. I’ll take you up on that offer and give you triple time if you work the reunion I’m having in a week. I’m really short that night, and it will definitely count as overtime, since working the reunion means you’ll miss enjoying it.”
Amanda frowned. “What reunion?”
“Oh, you weren’t here for the last all-staff meeting. I had a great idea for some local marketing. I’m holding a Mimosa High reunion for everyone who ever went to the high school that we can find. It’s going to be all day on the beach. We’ve located lots of former Mimosa Scorpions through the Internet and Facebook.”
“Wow.” A Mimosa High reunion. Could there be anything less appealing?
“And we’re giving everyone a name tag with their senior adjective. Isn’t a reunion an awesome way to spread the word about the resort and get people of all ages together?”
Amanda swallowed her response, because Lacey wouldn’t understand that she’d been Mandy the Magnificent but would now be Mandy the Maid. “Awesome,” she agreed.
“I’m sorry you have to work, but I’m desperate that day.”
And the last thing she’d do was turn down triple time when she’d just groveled to get her job back. The only thing that mattered was accruing the money and sending it to Zeke Nicholas. “It’s fine, as long as you don’t make me wear my senior adjective.”
“What was it?” Lacey asked.
Amanda shook her head. “I forget.” Even though they both knew that no one forgot their senior adjective.
“I’m sorry Zeke isn’t still here to attend,” she said quickly. “Because meeting him really did give me the idea.” She eyed Amanda. “Any chance he’ll be back?”
She remembered the baseball team—had thought about it a lot, as a matter of fact. But he’d find a new location for his minor-league plans. He hadn’t disappeared in the middle of the night only to return to build a baseball stadium. She’d already practiced squashing all hopes of that.