Her breath caught in her throat and her floral perfume hung in the air. Finally, she met his gaze and her brown eyes captured his attention again as she said, “No. I really did find that online.”
His gaze narrowed. If he believed her now, he was a fool. “But you used it as an excuse to come to my house.”
She didn’t move at all except to glance up as he moved closer and held her to him. She said, “No. Not at all. I sent my application for the job. I never would have come just to check you out.”
He let her go. This was all a set-up. He’d married her because of deceit. Not because of love. He stepped back and asked, “So you came because you believed that email Cassidy sent you?”
She wrung her hands in front of her. “No. I really didn’t. I married you because you offered a deal that was too good to pass up.”
Yes, that was probably true. He’d do anything to protect Christine. But he hadn’t needed to bed Miya. Living apart would be easier. And clearly she liked this house. Maybe she could bring her whole family to this villa and leave him and Christine, alone. The plan formed in his mind as he said, “But this was why you wanted me to be open to the possibility of falling in love again, because in your heart you hope it’s true.”
Miya’s hands curled into fists at her sides as her face turned red. “I … yeah, maybe I want it to be true.” She uncurled her fists and raised her gaze to meet his again. “Would it be awful to fall in love with my new husband and hope he might love me, too?”
Her brown eyes spoke far more than her words, and he stepped back. This wasn’t good. He shook his head. “But you came into this arrangement with a secret.”
She pursed her lips and sniffed. “I didn’t mean to delete the email. I thought I fixed it.”
His eyebrows went higher on his forehead as his mind went blank. “What?”
She pointed to the table. “You left your tablet. It’s still here. It beeped. I saw Lady Skye’s email and panicked. But I put it back in your inbox.”
Privacy obviously meant nothing to her. Of course it didn’t. She’d invaded his house and brought her army with her. He should have known better. He stood in front of the tablet and asked, “You read my emails?”
She hugged her waist and bounced in place. “No. Actually I never read it. That would be wrong.”
Now that was a stretch. He picked up his tablet and stared at the wall for a second. “But lying about why you came to Avce wasn’t wrong?”
He faced her again as she came closer. “I didn’t lie. I just held back that piece of information because I didn’t think it was important.”
But she’d decided that on her own. And he’d been clear he wasn’t into love. He pushed his free hand into his pocket while he held the tablet at his side and said, “I guess it was.”
She reached out and pressed her hand on his wrist. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you. Would it have made a difference?”
He let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and then said, as he glanced at the door, “I might never have let you in my door.”
She let him go. “Because you loved Linsey.”
“Yeah,” he said, but his shoulders were tense.
He turned to go but she said in a soft voice, “I don’t know what it’s like to love like that.”
Love was like putting his heart on a cutting board and waiting for the cleaver to cut another piece off. He swallowed and wished she understood. “It can’t happen again. I won’t let it.”
Miya stepped further away as she said, “Okay. I’ll finish my work and sleep in another room tonight.”
This was for the best. He held the tablet to his chest and opened the door while he said, “Yeah. We’ll talk … later.”
First, he needed to figure out how best to never let himself be hurt again. If he gave Miya a way into his heart, he lose more parts of himself that he needed to live. Love hurt.
Chapter 15
Miya rolled in the elegant but cold bed that she’d not had a wink of sleep in.
For years she’d tossed and turned at night and, it seemed, without Rico, she’d gone right back to lying awake, planning her life and her future.
This time without love. Pushing for it … well, it never worked out.
She wiped a tear from her eye as she sat and faced the cream wall. In her mind, the truth seemed to be emblazoned on it.
She’d pushed because … because … drat … she’d been falling hard. And it seemed too late now to fix things. She’d been so scared of being happy, and she’d pushed because … she’d loved him.
And he didn’t love her.
She stood and crossed the room to turn the lights on, but the brightness didn’t help. She was still in love.
The moon was still outside her window when she headed into the bathroom and showered.
The water hitting her head only confirmed what she already understood. Unlike with Jon Wang, when she’d pushed him for a relationship change, this time she cared.
And it wasn’t his houses or his wealth, or the letter that offered her hope that she’d impetuously followed. It was his unexpected laugh, how she relaxed near him, and how his green eyes seemed to understand her when no one else saw her.
She dried off from her shower and grabbed her black slacks and blouse. If she couldn’t sleep, might as well work.
So she responded to emails with proposals for meetings and drafted out her approach for the next five customers, writing down the names of people she knew in upper management, what they wanted, who made the decisions at meetings when she’d been with Scot and Scot, and even who sent out the Christmas cards.
Her notes were more like thought bubbles, but this process always helped her find her perfect path.
Birds chirped and she glanced outside her window at the sun now coming up.
Perfect. She packed her laptop and notes to head to her office.
But on the way, her nose smelled coffee.
She followed it to the veranda where she and Rico had eaten lunch together.
She grabbed a plate and a delicious warm cappuccino was delivered to her. She asked for a pot of coffee to be placed in her office and staff nodded like they understood, but she wasn’t sure. She dug into her breakfast and ignored the tension in her body.
As she finished her last bite her head pulsed. She’d eaten breakfast alone … on her honeymoon.
Not that it was supposed to matter, but her eyes stung like she’d cry. So she stood up quickly and her chair fell backward. She fixed it, hoping no one had noticed, and rushed to her office.
As she closed the door, she saw the carafe of coffee on her desk.
She was trembling, but crying never got her anywhere, so she sat, opened her laptop and hoped she would be able to work.
One email popped up and she was reading it when the white and gold door opened. She glanced up from her email and her heart almost stopped in her chest.
Rico. He wore black slacks, a gray polo, and his hair was still wet, like he’d just had a shower. And adrenaline coursed through her, making her jerk as she stood. She held onto the desk so she’d not seem weak as she said, “Rico, I didn’t think you wanted to see me.”
He pressed his temples and motioned toward the two guest chairs on the other side of the white desk as he said, “I tried to meet you earlier, but Christine called.”
Right. She slid into one of the white and gold cushioned seats designed for posh dignitaries visiting a palace and not some country estate. She hugged her waist to ensure she wasn’t shaking when she asked, “You’ve had breakfast?”
He nodded. “A while ago, and I went to the gym.” He pulled his chair closer and said, “We need to talk.”
No. She shouted it in her mind. Christmas wishes didn’t need to be burst so completely. She moved her knees away from him and stood as she said, “Well, let me get my coffee and we’ll talk.”
This was the part where he told her that he wanted out. She’d been through br
eakups before. But she poured herself a coffee and motioned to the extra cup. He nodded and she handed him one, too.
The warmth of the cup in her hand hopefully would hold the chill at bay. She said, “Yeah. Okay. I figured we needed to talk about our contract.” She calmed herself and decided she would act the part of the empowered executive she pretended to be. She pivoted in her chair to meet his gaze directly as she said, “I’ll adhere to the terms of the contract more closely and not knock on your door again.”
His face went red, but he nodded and said, “When we get back to Avce, are you okay with changing rooms? Or you can move here to Italy and just come back for formal visits?”
She cringed. This wasn’t good. She’d sealed the deal now, but her stomach was tied into knots. She said, like this was a simple business negotiation, “My family enjoys your home in Avce so I’d rather be based there, for now, as we establish our company.”
He folded his hands like he was considering a business proposal. Awareness rushed through her and centered in her forehead and she hoped she wasn’t sweating when he said, “I need to be clear. I can’t handle a real relationship. I can’t continue anything physical for now.”
This was her. Great at work. Horrible at relationships. Her body was tense and she didn’t dare move. She felt cold, despite the warm coffee cup she held, as she said, “I understand. I’m going to focus on my workload, which is quite a lot. I never meant to bother you.”
He leaned closer and she could smell his testosterone mixed with a woodsy cologne as he said, “So you’re okay with not moving forward with anything physical, and just keeping this friendly?”
Pins and needles barely described her skin right now. If those green eyes of his could read her, she was toast. He could never know how she really felt. Instead, she slightly opened her mouth and let her years of advertising work guide her.
“It’s what I signed up for,” she shrugged. “I don’t need love. It was just an idea.”
The coffee cup shook in her fingers. If she dropped it, he’d know she lied. She quickly put the cup on her desk and retook her seat while he said, “I can’t be open to more than friendship.”
At least she’d been wrong about him truly seeing through her. He hadn’t seen that she was already in love with him. She pushed her black hair behind her ear and said, “You’ve made that clear now. Is there anything else?”
His voice was low, almost a whisper, when he said, “I don’t want to hurt you, Miya.”
Too late. By far. Her heart had that dagger in it. But she met his gaze and hoped she sounded as excited she sometimes pretended to be when she hated the ad campaign she needed to sell. She even smiled, “You can’t hurt me. It’s not like I was falling in love after a couple days. That’s a little far-fetched.”
Until now, she’d never used her business acumen for selling a product as a means for selling a lie.
In fact, she hadn’t thought this possible, and she was absolutely still, unsure what to do.
His face had a slight tic to it as he sipped his coffee. Once he finished, he put his empty cup on the desk, but instead of leaving, he retook his seat and said, “Right. Is there anything I can do to help you?”
Go. She desperately needed to calm her nerves. She jumped out of her chair and returned to her desk, opening her computer as she said, “Tell me everything you know about your friend Jeff’s likes.”
He stood across from her and pushed her untouched cup of coffee toward her as he said, “He actually loves reading. He often talks about favorite nonfiction books he’s read. Though he said his favorite book of all time was Atlas Shrugged.”
“Now that doesn’t shock me,” she said. In her random research, she’d learned that was one of the top books read by CEOs around the world, right after the Bible.
At least this topic didn’t make her heart bleed, so she stayed with it as she wrote the title in one of her paper bubble notes.
“Anything else?”
He moved his head and tried to read her notebook—but nothing about her feelings was written there. She’d learned to not write her wishes down on paper in high school, when she’d once written out Miya and Mac, inside a heart, in her notebook. And Mac had read his name and laughed.
Now she glanced up and prayed Rico never understood her true feelings.
“His wife was kind,” he added, “but he’s divorced now.”
Kind was a good thing to be, Miya thought. Maybe she could shoot for distant but kind. That would let her keep her promise to Christine to not turn into an evil stepmother. She tapped her pen on the paper and said, “The divorce is public knowledge. Anything more personal?”
He widened his stance and stared at her. For a second she felt completely naked under his gaze, but then he said, “We’re not that close. His ex-wife designed the original orange logo.”
Soon she’d have a better mask, where nothing got to her, she told herself. For now, she wrote down “no orange” and stared at her papers.
“So is he looking to change that?” she asked.
He walked around the desk and stood next to her. Awareness grew all over her and her knees knocked while he said, “Doubtful. He knows it makes his company memorable. But better not mention anything about the design.”
Her lips tingled like he might kiss her, but that was impossible. He wasn’t going to do that. Ever. She stood and bumped into him, forcing him to back up. A shot of adrenaline rushed through her again, but she asked, “Okay. Anything else?”
She glanced at him and he walked backwards, like he was retreating.
“He’s been morbid lately in these texts,” he said.
“Well, he’s still smart,” she said. “But this is good to know for the pitch. Thanks for your help, Rico.”
He didn’t love her, which made her twist inside like she was brewing an internal tornado. Now he needed to go. Her legs still trembled, and if she left the desk, he’d see that she was a disaster near him. Control would come with time and accepting her own faults. She pretended she was fine as she rubbed her face like she had a lot of work to do. But he said, like he didn’t get the message, “If you want to let me see your target list I can tell you if I have any other connections.”
If he didn’t care, didn’t love her, then she needed a shield. Fast. She held the top of the desk and glanced at the door and hoped he would understand that he needed to leave.
“I’ll email you,” she said. “Email me back a list of who you know that we can set up meetings with, and how you know the owner.”
He raised his eyebrows as he neared the door. “You’re okay?”
She froze. Was she so obvious? She gave a curt glance at the door again and said, “Email.”
“That’s it?” He opened the door.
Good. This torture was almost done. She ignored how her hands shook until she hugged her waist and said, “The sooner I win the initial list, the sooner I can move on to finding new clients and growing the company with fresh business.”
“Your confidence is admirable,” he said. But he must have seen her nervous actions, which meant he saw her weakness.
She dropped her hands and sat in her chair like she was destined to be a boss and snapped her fingers to prove it. “And I’ll shoot over my initial proposal for winning people over to the ski lodge idea of yours. Fill in the blanks for me and send it back. We’ll work better keeping away from each other.”
He tapped on the door he left and said, “Glad you took this so well.”
Four walls of loneliness waited for her. She practically jumped as she held one finger in the air and said quickly, “One more thing before you go.”
He popped his head back in and asked, “What’s that?”
I love you. The words were on her lips, but she stepped back as she knew that would be explosive. It was better to let things break, so she glanced at her laptop and said, “I’ll get my mom to go back to Deerrun after the new year. I’d appreciate it if she doesn’t know we broke up this
fast. That any … potential romance was clearly never going to be there. She never approves of my love life and our … agreement isn’t something she needs to hear about.”
His face went white and he asked, “So this is a breakup?”
How was that a shock? He wanted nothing to do with her. Love didn’t matter to him, at least with her. He was still in love with his lost fiancée. She retook her seat and said, “I don’t have another label for it. It’s fine. Neither of us were in love.”
Her heart thumped so loud she could hear it in her eardrums.
She almost missed it when he said, “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
If words were bullets, she’d be dead. He didn’t care about her the way she loved him. This was clear. But she picked up her pen and tapped her paper as she said, “You can’t hurt me. Don’t worry about it.”
Finally, he left.
Her chest caved in and she pressed her hand to her heart to know if she was even still alive.
Until now, she’d had no idea what all those songs about heartbreak were about. Loving someone who didn’t love her back … sucked.
Chapter 16
Rico returned to the gym and spent two hours triple-using every machine he owned to fine-tune his muscles and take his mind off Miya.
Nothing worked. He used a bench press to work on his biceps and upper body, but Miya’s slight tremble with the coffee cup replayed in his mind.
And his heart kept going back to how panicked he’d been at the word “love.”
The day Linsey was in her hospital bed, at death’s door, she had begged him to open his heart to love their daughter.
She’d made him swear to keep Christine safe and close, forever.
So he’d made the deal to marry Miya.
And yes, he’d been charmed.
He’d found Miya’s curiosity for life intoxicating. He’d never met anyone so bright.
And seducing her under her mother’s watchful eye had been … fun.
Who knew that was even possible in his life. Until Miya, he’d never been so at ease with a woman. Even Linsey. Linsey had made him feel stupid, more than once.
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