The Most Expensive Lie of All

by Michelle Conder

  Memories he’d rather obliterate than verbalise turned his tone harsh. ‘He accused me of deflowering his precious engaged granddaughter and you let him believe it.’

  ‘I don’t remember that,’ she said softly. ‘I told him afterwards that we hadn’t been together.’

  Cruz wasn’t interested in another apology. ‘So you said.’

  ‘But you still don’t believe me?’

  ‘It’s irrelevant.’

  ‘I don’t think it is. I can hear in your voice that it still pains you and I don’t blame you. I should never have let him think what he did. Not even for a second.’

  ‘What you can hear in my voice is not pain but absolute disgust.’

  He stepped closer to her, noting how small and fragile she looked, her shoulders narrow, her limbs slender and fine. He knew the taste of her skin, as well as her scent.

  ‘When it happened...’ He forced himself to focus. ‘Then I was upset. Devastated, if you want to know the truth. I thought your grandfather and I were equals. I thought he respected me. Maybe even cared for me.’ He snorted out a breath and thrust his hand through his hair. ‘I thought wrong. Do you know what he told me?’

  Cruz had no idea why he was telling her something so deeply private but somehow the words kept coming.

  ‘He told me I wasn’t good enough for his granddaughter. He didn’t want your lily-white blood mixing with that of a second-class Mexicano.’

  ‘But my blood isn’t lily-white. My mother saw to that in a fit of rebellion. My grandfather could never get past her decision and because they were both stubborn neither one could offer the other an olive branch. My mother wanted to go home to The Farm so many times.’

  Aspen swallowed past the lump in her throat.

  ‘But my grandfather had kicked her out. It was the same with you. Two days after you left he had a stroke and I’m sure it was because he had lost you. Of course no one outside the family knew about it, but I knew it had to do with what happened and I felt terrible. Ashamed of myself. But I was scared, Cruz.’

  She looked at him with remorseful eyes and no matter what he thought of her it was impossible to doubt her sincerity.

  ‘You know my grandfather’s temper. I didn’t know what he’d do to me.’

  ‘Nothing,’ Cruz bit out. ‘He was angry at me, not you. He thought the world of you.’

  ‘As long as I did what he wanted.’ She shivered. ‘I was so frightened when I arrived at Ocean Haven. I’d heard about the place from my mother and I’d loved it from a small child. I’d never met my grandfather before and I was determined that he wouldn’t hate me. And he didn’t. But nor did he like me questioning him or going against his wishes. At first that was okay, because I was little, but as I got older it became harder to always be agreeable. That night...’ She stopped and looked at him curiously. ‘Why didn’t you defend yourself against him? Why didn’t you tell him that it was me who had kissed you?’

  ‘It hadn’t exactly been one-way.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘And you looked...frightened.’

  Aspen gave him a small smile. ‘I was that, all right. I’d never seen him in such a rage. I didn’t know what to do and I froze. It’s a horrible reaction I’ve never been able to shake when I’m truly petrified. That night, if he had found out that I instigated things with you after he’d told me I was expected to marry Chad, I thought...I thought...’

  Cruz briefly closed his eyes. ‘You thought he’d disown you like he had your mother.’

  The truth of what had happened that night was like a slap in the face.

  ‘It seems silly now, but...’

  ‘It was like history repeating itself. Your mother with the ski instructor...you with the lowly polo player.’

  ‘I didn’t think that, but he was so angry.’ She shuddered at the memory. ‘And I never wanted to leave the one place my mother loved so much. She used to talk about it all the time. Do you know that skewed horseshoe wedged between two roof beams in the stable?’

  Cruz knew it. Old Charlie had grumbled about it whenever he was in a bad mood.

  ‘Apparently years ago Mum and Uncle Joe were playing hooky with a bunch of them and when she was losing she got in a terrible snit and aimed one at his head.’ Aspen laughed softly, as if she were remembering her mother recounting the story. ‘Unfortunately she was a terrible shot and released it too soon. It went shooting up towards the roof and somehow it got stuck. Which was lucky for my uncle because she obviously put her back into it.’ She smiled. ‘Every time I see it, it’s as if she’s still here with me.’

  She looked at him.

  ‘That night I was so angry with my grandfather for ignoring my wishes that I went to the stable to talk to her. When you showed up and you weren’t dressed properly I... I can’t explain it rationally.’

  Her eyes flitted away and then she seemed to force them back to his.

  ‘I had wanted to kiss you for so long and I wasn’t thinking clearly. I know you don’t want to hear this but I am sorry, Cruz. I should have stood up for you. But I was selfishly worried about myself and—’

  Cruz cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. Lightly. ‘It’s okay. I remember his temper.’

  Aspen gave him a wobbly smile. ‘I think I inherited that from him.’

  He shook his head, his thumbs stroking her cheekbones. ‘You’re not scary when you’re angry. You’re beautiful.’

  She made a noise somewhere between a snort and a cough and he couldn’t resist kissing her again, his lips lingering and sipping at hers.

  This time the noise she made was one of pleasure, and Cruz slid his hand into her hair to hold her head steady, nudging the toolbox out of his way with his knee so that he could shift closer. She pressed into him and he wrapped his other hand around her waist, deepening the kiss. Slowly. Deliberately drawing out the sweet anticipation of it for both of them.

  Aspen’s arms rose, linked around his neck and time passed. How much, he couldn’t have said.

  Slowly she drew back, lifting her long lashes to reveal eyes glazed with passion. ‘Wow...’ she whispered.

  Wow was right.

  She moistened her lower lip, her eyes flitting from his, and he frowned. He could have sworn he saw a touch of apprehension in them. He nipped at her lower lip, kissed her again.

  With a thousand questions pounding through his head—not least why she seemed nervous when it came to intimacy—he reluctantly ended the searing kiss and leant his forehead against hers. Their breaths mingled, hot and heavy.

  ‘I don’t hate you, Aspen,’ he said, answering her question of the previous night. Her bewitching green eyes returned to his and he found himself saying, ‘I have a formal dinner at the hotel tonight. Come with me.’

  Aspen felt dazzled. By the conversation. By his sweet, tender kisses. By the piercing ache in her pelvis that made a mockery of her previous experiences with Chad. ‘I’d like that...’

  * * *

  And she did—right up until she found an emerald-green gown laid out on her bed next to black stiletto sandals still inside their box.

  Standing stock-still in the centre of the spare room Aspen stared at the exquisite gown.

  ‘Don’t wear that. You look awful in it. Here. Put this on.’

  Aspen shivered. Chad’s voice was so clear in her head he might as well have been standing beside her.

  Cruz wasn’t Chad. She knew that. But somehow her stomach still felt cramped. Because the dress symbolised some sort of ownership. Some sort of control. And she knew she couldn’t give him that—not over her.

  It made her realise just what she’d been thinking when he had invited her to the dinner. She’d been thinking it was a date. That it was real.

  But this wasn’t real. She wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for the deal he had offe
red her. A deal she had accepted and still hadn’t fulfilled. Which she needed to do to keep Ocean Haven. How had she forgotten that? How had she forgotten that he was trying to steal it away from her?

  But she knew how. He’d kissed her so tenderly, so reverently, it had been as if eight years had fallen away between them. And she couldn’t think like that. Because as much as she hated the coldness of the deal they had struck she also knew that she couldn’t afford to feel anything. She couldn’t afford to want anything from him other than money. That way was fraught with disaster. It would turn her from an independent woman in charge of her own destiny back into the people-pleaser she had tried to be for her grandfather. For Chad.

  She stared at the dress. Cruz was an extraordinarily wealthy man who was used to getting what he wanted. For some reason he had decided that he wanted her. For a night. But that didn’t mean she had to wear clothes he’d chosen as well.

  Before she could think too much about it she strode out into the living room. The sun was hanging low in the sky and it illuminated his fit body as he stood in front of the window, talking into his cell phone.

  As if sensing her presence he turned, scanned her face and the dress she was holding, and told whomever he was talking to that he had to go.

  She held the dress out to him. ‘I can’t wear this.’

  He frowned. ‘It doesn’t fit?’

  ‘No. Yes. Actually, I don’t know. I haven’t tried it on.’

  He smiled. ‘Then what’s the problem?’

  ‘The problem is—’ She dropped her hand and paced away from him. ‘The problem is that I’m not a possession you can dress up whenever you like. The problem is I’m an independent woman who has some idea about how to dress herself and doesn’t need to be told what to wear by some high-powered male who has to own everything.’

  A heavy silence fell over the room as soon as her spiel had finished but somehow her words hung between them like a hideously long banner dragged through the sky by a biplane.

  ‘I take it your grandfather didn’t like your choice in outfits?’ He dropped into a plush sofa. ‘Or was it Anderson?’

  For a minute his astute questions floored her. ‘Chad has nothing to do with this,’ she bit out.

  His beautiful black eyes glittered with confidence and Aspen was suddenly embarrassed to realise that she had just exposed a part of herself she hadn’t intended to.

  ‘At some point we need to talk about him.’

  Aspen felt her heart hammer inside her chest. ‘We so do not.’

  His eyes became hooded. ‘We will, but not now. As to the other.’ He waved his hand at the emerald silk crushed in her hand. ‘It’s just a dress, Aspen. I assume you didn’t pack anything formal?’

  ‘No.’ Deciding to ignore her embarrassment, she forged on. ‘But I can buy my own clothes if I need to.’

  Clearly exasperated, he looked at her from under long thick lashes. ‘Fine. I’ll forward you the bill.’

  Aspen could tell he had no intention of doing that. ‘You may have bought a night with me, Cruz, but that doesn’t mean you own me.’

  ‘I don’t want to own you.’ He laid his arm along the back of the sofa. ‘Wear it. Don’t wear it. It’s irrelevant to me.’

  ‘What is relevant to you?’ she asked, goaded by his nonchalant attitude. ‘Because it seems to me that you’ve cut yourself off from everything that could have meaning in your life other than work. Your family. Your polo playing—’ Aspen stopped, breathlessly aware that he had risen during her tirade and that he was nowhere near as relaxed as he had appeared.

  ‘The dress was a peace offering.’ He grabbed his suit jacket from the back of the nearby chair. ‘But you can bin it for all I care.’

  Feeling all at sea as he stalked out of the penthouse, Aspen returned to her room and leant against the closed door.

  A peace offering?

  She felt stupid and knew that she had acted like a drama queen. And she knew why. She was tense. The thought of sex with Cruz was hanging over her head like a stalactite. And felt just as deadly.

  Glancing at the bed, she ignored the tight feeling in her chest and tossed the dress onto it. Then she stripped off and scalded herself with a hot shower, all the while knowing that as she plucked and preened and soaped herself with the delicious vanilla-scented soap that she was doing so with Cruz in mind. Which made her feel worse. This wasn’t a romance. It was a deal.

  A deal that would end as soon as they’d slept together.

  A deal that could still go wrong if her uncle decided that he needed the money Cruz was willing to part with to turn Ocean Haven into a horrible hotel.

  Trying not to dwell on that, she rolled her eyes at herself when she realised she’d changed her hairstyle five times. She looked at the spiralling mess. All her fiddling had turned her hair to frizz. Great.

  Salvaging it as best she could, she stomped back into the bedroom and spied the offending gown she had flung onto the bed. Even skewed it rippled, and dared any woman not to want to wear it.

  And given the contents of her suitcase what choice did she really have? None. And she hated that because she’d had so little choice in what had happened to her growing up on Ocean Haven. After Chad she had vowed she’d never be beholden to anyone again—especially not a man. But one night with Cruz didn’t make her beholden to him, did it?

  Once he’d lent her the money and she’d paid him back, as she would the other investors, they would be back on an equal footing. She exhaled. One night, straight up, and then she was home free.

  Why did that leave her feeling so empty?

  She looked again at the dress. Grimaced. Trust him to have such superb taste.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ‘ARE YOU EVEN listening to what I’m saying?’

  Cruz glanced at Ricardo, who was debriefing him on who was attending the formal dinner that night and how impressed the Chinese delegation were with the facilities. The Sunset Bar, where they had decided to catch up for a drink before the evening proceedings, was full to bursting with excited players and polo experts from all over the globe.

  ‘Of course,’ he lied. ‘Go on.’

  Ricardo frowned, but thankfully continued working his way through the list.

  Cruz studied it also, but his mind was elsewhere. More specifically his mind was weighing up how he was going to steal The Farm out from under Aspen’s gorgeous fingertips when he now knew the truth about that fateful night.

  He took a healthy swig of his tequila. He’d been so sure she had done him wrong eight years ago he’d been blind to any other possibility. Tainted, he realised belatedly. Tainted by his own deep-seated feelings of inferiority and hurt pride.

  Hell.

  He couldn’t escape the knowledge that seeing Aspen again had unearthed a wealth of bitterness he hadn’t even realised he’d buried deep inside himself—resentments he’d let fester but that no longer seemed relevant.

  What is relevant to you?

  Hell, that woman had a way of working her way inside his head. But as much as he hated that he knew in good conscience he couldn’t take Ocean Haven away from her. He’d never be able to face himself in the mirror again if he did. But what to do? Because if he also let her continue with her foolhardy plan to borrow thirty million dollars to keep it she’d be bankrupt within a year.

  Of course that wasn’t his problem. She was an adult and could take care of herself. But some of that old protectiveness he had always felt towards her was seeping back in and refused to go away. He wanted to fix everything for her, but she was so fiercely guarded, so intent on doing everything herself. It was madness. But so was the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about her. That he even wanted to fix things for her in the first place.

  Realising that Ricardo was waiting for him to say something, Cruz nodded t
houghtfully. ‘Sam Harris is playing tomorrow. Got it.’

  ‘Actually,’ Ricardo said patiently, ‘Sam Harris is sick. Tommy Hassenberger is taking his place.’

  ‘Send Sam a bottle of tequila.’

  ‘I already sent flowers.’

  Cruz shook his head at his brother. ‘And you think you need a wife?’

  Normally his brother would have returned his light ribbing, but to Cruz’s chagrin he didn’t this time.

  ‘What’s up?’ he said instead.

  Cruz rubbed his jaw and realised he should have shaved again. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘You’re a million miles away. It wouldn’t have anything to do with Aspen Carmichael, would it?’

  Bingo.

  ‘If I say no, you’ll assume I’m lying, and if I say yes, you’ll want to know why.’

  Ricardo shook his head and laughed. ‘Dios mio, you’ve got it bad.’

  Cruz dismissed Ricardo’s comment. He wanted her badly, yes, and he was happy to admit that, but he didn’t have it bad in the way his brother was implying.

  A hush fell over the bar at the same time as the skin on the back of his neck started to prickle. Then Ricardo let out a low whistle under his breath.

  ‘Mi, oh, mi....’

  Slowly Cruz turned his head to find Aspen framed in the open double glass doorway of the bar like something out of a 1950s Hollywood extravaganza, the silky green gown he’d bought her flowing around her slender figure like coloured water. His mouth went dry. The halterneck dress was deceptively simple at the front but so beautifully crafted it lovingly moulded to her shape exactly as it was supposed to. She’d pinned her hair up in a soft, timeless bun—which must mean she had a fair amount of skin showing, as he was pretty sure the dress dipped quite low at the back.

  Okay, make that completely backless, he corrected, fighting a primitive urge to bundle her up in his arms and return her to his room. His bed.

  She hadn’t spotted him yet, and when a male voice called out her name Cruz watched her turn her head, the wispy tendrils of hair she had left to frame her face dancing golden beneath the halogen lighting. Her expression softened as she spied a few of his polo players lounging in the club chairs that circled a small wooden table.