Whose Lie Is It Anyway?

by Abby Gaines

  “Holly, is that you?”

  His voice—sexy, demanding, confused—had a marginally sobering effect on her.

  Still, a snicker escaped her. “Mom says to tell you she’s wearing white.”

  Maggie was horrified. “Holly, are you talking to that pervert?” She relaxed when she saw her daughter’s face. “I’ll leave you to it.” She headed into her bedroom.

  Jared groaned. “Can we start over?”

  Then Holly remembered she didn’t laugh with him anymore. “What do you want?” she said abruptly.

  “What color underwear do you have on?”

  “I am not having phone sex with you—or any other kind of sex,” she snapped. She hadn’t heard from him since she’d dumped him at the side of the road, and he wanted to talk lingerie?

  “Is it the lilac?”

  “No.”

  “The red?”

  “No.”

  “Is it the—?”

  “Oh, for goodness’ sake. It’s the turquoise.”

  “Turquoise? You mean, that bluey-green number with little buttons?”

  “That’s the one,” she said through gritted teeth.

  He groaned his appreciation.

  “You’ve never even seen me in it.”

  “I have a very good imagination.”

  She was quite sure he did. And the burning she felt in her cheeks had nothing to do with her anger. “Why are you calling, Jared?”

  “Why are you with your mother?”

  “Do you have to answer every question with a question?”

  “Do you?”

  She seethed in silence, and he capitulated. “I want to see you. To talk to you.”

  “About my underwear.”

  “No—well, yes, but not only that.”

  “Well, I don’t want to talk to you. Goodbye, Jared.”

  Before she could end the call he said, “It’s about work. You’re still on my payroll, remember?”

  “I quit.”

  “Not before you sort out the mess you’ve made with Wireless World.”

  “What mess? I do not mess up in my work.”

  “You did, and you have to clear it up.”

  “Jared,” she said with a patience she didn’t feel, “what I’ve done with Wireless World is perfect, if I say so myself.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.”

  “I’m not wrong, I—”

  “Will you shut up and tell me where you are?” he yelled.

  “That’s hardly logical,” she pointed out. “I can’t shut up and talk at the same time.”

  He made a strangled sound, and she said, “Okay, okay,” and gave him directions to the trailer park. He hung up without a goodbye.

  WHEN JARED HADN’T arrived four hours later Holly decided he wasn’t coming. He must have realized he was wrong about Wireless World.

  She looked down at the dress she wore. She’d gone into town on the weekend and stocked up on new clothes. She was sick of Summer’s skimpy wardrobe, but she hadn’t completely returned to her ultraconservative style. This dress was a cream linen shift, fitted to her curves and ending midthigh, rather than barely skimming her panties as any dress of Summer’s would have done. It was sexy but understated.

  She was thinking about changing into something less sexy when she heard a car pull up. Jared! She went to the window and looked out. But instead of the Saab, a familiar Ford Mustang was outside. “What now?” Holly groaned.

  “What is it, baby?” Maggie called from her bedroom, which also served as her studio.

  “It’s that FBI agent, Crook. What does he want this time?”

  To Holly’s surprise, Maggie appeared lightning-quick. She checked her appearance in the mirror in the living room, running her fingers through her hair to tidy it.

  “Mom?”

  Before Holly could enquire further, a knock sounded on the door. Holly moved, but Maggie beat her to it.

  As she opened the door, Maggie found herself praying for the first time in years.

  There he was. For a long moment of silence she stared at Crook and he stared back. Then Maggie said, “Hello…” She paused.

  “Simon,” Crook supplied.

  Maggie smiled. It was perfect. “Hello, Simon. Come in.”

  “Shall I bring these?”

  Maggie noticed for the first time the two suitcases on the porch beside him. She knew what they meant, but she didn’t dare hope she was right. She nodded, and Crook followed her inside.

  “Agent Crook,” Holly said. “Why are you here?”

  Simon looked at her as if he’d never seen her before, and Maggie stifled a smile at the puzzlement on Holly’s face. “Simon’s here to see me, honey.”

  “Oh.” Holly continued to stand expectantly in front of Crook.

  “So you might want to leave us alone,” Maggie prompted.

  “Oh!” Comprehension, mixed with mild horror, dawned on Holly’s countenance, and she hurried out of the room.

  Maggie looked at Simon, suddenly shy. He suited his name, honest and uncomplicated. She didn’t know what to say, but he dispensed with the need for talk by taking her into his arms and kissing her. His mouth was gentle but insistent. Maggie closed her eyes and gave herself up to the warm reassurance and rising passion.

  When the kiss ended he held her in a loose embrace. “Let me come to Italy with you.”

  Maggie swallowed. “You mean, a vacation?”

  “No.”

  “How long for?”

  “Until we don’t want to be around each other any longer.” He kissed her again. “Right now, I’m guessing forever.”

  “What about Florida? Your condo?”

  He released her and took a step back. “That was the future I planned with Sally. If she hadn’t died we would have gone down there, and it would’ve worked out. But I’m not the same man I was with her. I never realized that until I met you. No wonder I wasn’t happy—I kept looking to replace what I had. But I want something different. I want you.”

  “I won’t marry you,” she said. “Probably.”

  “I didn’t ask you to marry me,” he said. “I asked you to take me to Italy. We’ve got a lot to learn about each other, Maggie, and Italy sounds like a great place to do it.”

  “You haven’t got a work permit.”

  He grinned. “I’ll let you support me with your illegal earnings.” She swatted him, and he chuckled. “There’s also my FBI pension.”

  “If you’re not going to work, what will you do there?”

  “I figure they have photography schools in Italy.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea,” Maggie said.

  Simon’s face clouded. “So how come you didn’t think of it, Maggie? Why didn’t you ask me to go with you?”

  “I was scared,” she said simply. “I’ve faced down Japanese whalers, I’ve stood on the front line in protests and taken a hit from tear gas, but I’ve never been as frightened as I was when we talked on Friday. When I knew you had no reason to come back here.” She took his face in both hands and kissed him hard. “It’s all to do with how much is at stake.”

  “So does this mean…?”

  “It means we’re going to Italy.”

  IT WAS ENTIRELY TYPICAL of Jared that long after Holly had given up hope of seeing him, long after she’d heard the plans her mother had made with Simon Crook and envied the older couple’s attempts to steal kisses from each other when they thought Holly wasn’t looking, he should pull his car up outside Maggie’s trailer.

  And this time, Holly made sure it was the Saab.

  From the doorstep, Holly watched Jared walk up the path. As soon as he was within earshot she called, “What’s the problem with Wireless World?”

  He came right up close to her and the sight of him was almost a physical ache. “There isn’t one. Wireless World is perfect.”

  “So you lied. What a surprise. Now you can leave.”

  He ignored her, pushed past her into the trailer, leaving he
r no choice but to follow.

  “You look great. I like your dress.” The hunger in his eyes told her he more than liked it. Then he looked around the small living area, at its shabby rug and the walls hung with canvases. Looking at the couch as he must see it, Holly realized it was even worse than she thought. Jared’s jaw tightened.

  “So this is where you were raised,” he said.

  “It’s clean.” For the first time she felt inclined to defend the choice her mother had made. “It’s not so bad.”

  Before he could utter the sharp rejoinder she sensed was imminent, her mother came into the room. “Baby, there’s a car outside—” She stopped when she saw Jared and advanced cautiously.

  “Mom, you remember Jared Harding, my former employer.” Holly had the satisfaction of seeing him wince.

  “Hello, Mrs. Stephens.”

  Maggie withdrew the hand she’d tentatively proffered. “It’s the pervert,” she said. “I recognize his voice.” She scowled at Jared. “I don’t talk on the phone often. You might have put me off for life.”

  “It’s not my usual opening gambit,” he assured her with a level of patience Holly wouldn’t have expected of him. “It’s a standing joke between me and Holly.”

  “And what color underwear are you wearing?” Maggie asked.

  Jared’s draw dropped, and Holly had to stuff a fist into her mouth to keep from laughing. Maggie stood waiting, hands on hips, clearly expecting an answer.

  “Black,” Jared said with good grace. Then he seemed to recollect his purpose. “While we’re having this cozy question-and-answer session, why are you—” he pointed a finger at Holly “—putting yourself in a position where this woman—” now the finger pointed at Maggie “—can hurt you again? And as for you, Mrs. Stephens, do you know how much you hurt your daughter? You’re lucky child protection didn’t take your kids—”

  “Jared, stop.” Holly’s face flamed. It sounded as if all she’d done was tell tales about her miserable childhood. “Mom and I have been talking. Everything’s fine.” And when his thunderous expression didn’t lighten, she laid a hand on his arm, the first physical contact she’d had with him since she’d left Seattle. “It’s okay,” she said. “Honestly.”

  “You can’t get over years of pain in just a couple of days’ talking.” He looked distractedly down at where her hand rested on his forearm.

  She smiled, knowing where he was coming from. “Some people can. I can. And so can Mom.”

  “I’ll leave you guys to it.” Maggie left the room.

  “So who was right, you or your mom?” Jared demanded.

  “Does everything have to come back to right or wrong?” she said, irritated.

  “With you it does.”

  He had a point.

  She blew out a breath. “Mom made plenty of mistakes. But I was wrong about why she did what she did.” The admission came easier than she expected, so she added, “I judged her in a way I shouldn’t have.”

  Holly couldn’t tell what Jared thought of that. His blue gaze burned with an intensity she couldn’t interpret. “Tell me why you’re here, Jared.” She waved him toward the couch, but he didn’t sit.

  He looked her in the eye. “I’m here to ask your forgiveness, to say I’m sorry.”

  Holly hardened her heart. “Oh, yes, I remember, apologizing is one of your seduction techniques.”

  “This is not about getting you into bed. I’m sorry I deceived you, I’m sorry I used you. I want you to forgive me.”

  If Holly had thought the way he acknowledged his faults without apology was impressive, his full-on repentance was nothing short of amazing. Still, she wasn’t ready.

  “There’s something you’re not telling me,” she said. “There’s no way you drove three hours from Seattle just to ask my forgiveness.”

  “Seven hours. I came from Kechowa.”

  “Oh.” She absorbed that. “How are your parents?”

  “They’re fine,” he said. “They send you their love. Do you think my parents are boring?”

  His change of tack disconcerted her. “You know I don’t.”

  “Can you see me ending up like them in thirty years?”

  She thought about that. “No,” she said at last. “Even if you mellow slightly—which is a big if—you’ll never be as unassuming as your father. And you’ll never be as polite and charming as your mother.”

  “Very funny.” But his lips twitched. “Have you forgiven me yet?”

  “No, I haven’t,” she said crossly. “What does it matter whether I forgive you or not?”

  “Because,” he said in a long-suffering tone that implied she should know this already, “if you haven’t forgiven me, you won’t agree to marry me.”

  “You’re damned right I won’t.” The words were out before she’d comprehended. Jared laughed as her eyes widened. “I won’t what?”

  “Marry me,” he said. “I’m offering the works—white wedding, in-laws, kids, till-death-do-us-part.”

  “This is a joke.” She turned away from him in disgust.

  He grabbed her shoulders with a force that made her yelp, and spun her around to face him. “Will you listen? This is not a joke, though I can hardly believe I’m saying it myself.”

  “Tell me what happened with your parents.”

  Jared didn’t mind the non-sequitur—it gave him some breathing space. He told Holly about Greg, about his parents, about how they’d forgiven one another.

  “And now you’ve realized you were wrong about your parents you think you have to go out and get married,” she said.

  “I don’t have to do anything,” he snapped. “I care about you and I want to marry you.”

  “Would the wedding be before or after you sue Keith Transom?”

  “I took EC Solutions off the market this morning,” he told her. “I instructed my finance team to close the business down and offer the staff jobs in my other companies. That’s why I didn’t come here on the weekend. I couldn’t until I’d fixed it. I also spent some time figuring out a new job for you.”

  “I don’t need a job. I have my own business.”

  “But if you want to, you can head up the Greg Harding Investment Trust, to fund research into mental disorders. You get to invest loads of my money, and do some good at the same time. I wouldn’t trust anyone else.”

  It was perfect. Holly’s heart overflowed with love for his courage and creativity.

  “I’ll think about it.” She returned to the more pressing matter. “So…you’re not suing Transom for fifty million dollars?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t want anything more to do with the guy. I’m going to forget he exists.”

  “I’m so glad.”

  “Yeah, well, you should be. I did it for you.”

  Holly shook her head. “No, you did it for you.”

  He grinned. “It does feel good to be free of him. Maybe I didn’t do it for you, but I did it because of you, because you make me want to be better than I am.”

  She blinked away tears. “Thank you.”

  “So can we get married, now we’ve agreed my motives are legitimate?”

  “Actually, your motives are still regrettably unclear.” She chose her words with the precision Jared hoped would be driving him nuts for the rest of his life. “You said you care about me. What exactly did you mean?”

  “What do you want?” He groaned. “My heart on a plate?”

  “Yes, please,” she said primly.

  “What I meant, Holly, is that I love you. I don’t want to love you, and if you refuse to marry me I’m going to wish I didn’t, but I love everything about you, from your gorgeous underwear to your beautiful face. From your uptight attitude to that honesty that forces me to face up to myself. That is why I want to marry you.”

  “Well, I guess that’s reasonable.”

  “You love me, too,” he reminded her. “You don’t fall out of love that fast.”

  Holly put her thumb and forefinger alm
ost together, to indicate just a pinch of love left.

  Jared laughed. “I can work with that.” He caught her up in a kiss more intimate, more precious than any she’d known.

  At last she pulled away. “So you think you’re man enough to cope with a virgin who’s in love with you?”

  “Oh, yeah. I know just what to do with one of those.” He claimed her lips again. After a moment he lifted his mouth from hers. “But please,” he said, “don’t make me live in the suburbs. I know you want the picket fence and the garden—”

  She waved a dismissive hand. “The picket fence is negotiable. We can stay in the city.”

  He sighed with relief.

  “We can have children, can’t we?” Holly asked. “Maybe a couple of them?”

  He released her from his embrace, but kept her hands clasped in his. “I do want to have kids with you. But bipolar disorder might run in the family.”

  “That’s okay, twins run in mine.” More seriously, she added, “There are no guarantees with kids, Jared. But if we put half as much effort into our family as we both have into our businesses…”

  He kissed her lightly on the lips. “You’re right. Does this mean you’ll marry me?”

  “First I have to get one thing straight.” His groan didn’t deter her in the slightest. “Understand that I am madly, crazily in love with you, Jared. If you marry me, that’s it for life. You’ll be as tied down as it’s possible for a man to be.”

  He hauled her into his arms with a suddenness that robbed her of her breath. Holly felt the wild beating of his heart against her breast. Wild. That about summed Jared up.

  “So tie me down,” he breathed against her mouth.

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-1706-5

  WHOSE LIE IS IT ANYWAY?

  Copyright © 2007 by Abby Gaines.

  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 publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.