But she hadn’t given him that choice, and now she waited for him to make his. Based on his rigid posture, the intense anger raging through his body and seeping into her hand, she knew the answer. She knew the man. Honest, forthright, he didn’t condone lying or coercion. While she might not have coerced him like Jonas had done to her, she had lied.
“Your answer, Colt,” Shepp prodded him. “You need to give your answer.”
“Colt,” she said with a ragged cry. “Please, let me—”
Twisting his hand from her grip, he abruptly stood. Without looking at her, he reached into the collar of his shirt, tore the microphone off, then dropped it on the chair.
Panic seared through her, gripped her, and squeezed tight. She couldn’t let him walk away, not yet, not ever. She’d never told him how much she’d loved him. How much he’d meant to her. Stomach clenching, guilt, fear, and sorrow sliced at her heart, tore at her soul. “Colt, please,” she sobbed, unable to control the tears streaking down her face. “Please, let me explain. It’s not as bad as it looks.”
His head shot back as if she’d struck him. He narrowed his eyes, eyes that only moments ago had held an overwhelming amount of tenderness and desire. Only now his denim gaze darkened with anger, betrayal, and utter disgust.
Cringing, she raised a hand to her lips and shook her head. “No,” she gasped, “you have to understand, just let me explain.”
As if he’d never held her, whispered how much he’d needed her, wanted her while he’d loved her body the way no man ever had, his handsome face, a face she adored, contorted into an ugly sneer. He drew in a deep breath, opened his mouth, then snapped it back shut and shook his head. Giving her one last disgusted glare, he stormed off the stage.
Some of the members of the audience clapped, while the rest remained silent. She could care less what any of them thought, the only one that mattered was Colt. Starting to rise from her chair to go after him, Shepp moved to her and kept her seated. His eyes bore into hers. “Stay cool,” he whispered against her ear. “Just another minute and you can go after him.”
Colt would be long gone by then. “I don’t have another minute.” She jumped from her chair and ran off the stage. Her heart pounding as she tried to lengthen her strides in the tight dress. Danny grabbed her arm as she pushed through the curtains, but she shrugged him off, wound her way through the back stage, ignoring the gratitude and the sympathy in her former co-workers eyes. When she reached the door, she shoved it hard enough it bounced off the brick building, then she dashed into the parking lot.
The rev of a large engine had her whipping her head to the right. At that second, the headlights of Colt’s truck came to life, and the Ford started to move. Panicking she wouldn’t make it in time, she hiked her dress high to give her legs the freedom to move, and ran, screaming his name over and over until her throat ached, and her screams became hoarse yelps. There was too much distance between her and the truck, but she kept running. Her lungs constricted, and a cramp seized her stomach. She pushed on anyway, she had to reach him. She couldn’t let him walk out of her life, not yet, not without at least telling him she loved him.
The truck’s tires squealed as Colt tore out of the parking lot and headed for his condo. Every part of him screamed to go back, to shake the entire truth from her, but his pride wouldn’t allow it. She’d taken everything from him tonight. His dreams…his love.
How could he have been so stupid, so gullible? How could he have allowed her to blindside him? Sex.
He swore a litany of words that would have had him sucking on a bar of soap if he were a kid and his mom had caught him, and repeatedly slammed his palm against his steering wheel. His sweet and spicy Valentina had used him. For sex. For ratings. For the stupid, fucking show. And he’d believed her. Held her. Comforted her when she’d acted all scared about Jonas’ threats, when she’d talked about her past, when she’d become delirious and overwrought with passion.
While clenching his fingers around the steering wheel, he clenched his jaw tight enough it cracked and popped. If he didn’t rein in his anger, he’d need a dentist. Hell, maybe he would go see Trent. They could rock out and bash Val over a few beers and Nitrous Oxide. He caught his wry, piss-poor smile in the rearview mirror, then shook his head. She might have played them all, but he wouldn’t slander Valentina. Even pissed off and humiliated, he wouldn’t sink that low. He loved her. A part of him probably always would. She’d made him feel whole. She’d made him feel alive. Thank God he hadn’t told her. Thank God he hadn’t gone all slobbery and told her he loved her, that he’d wanted to marry her, make a bunch of babies together, and live the dream. He ran a hand through his hair before turning into his parking garage. If he had, tonight’s humiliation would have been so much worse. To his heart, and yeah, to his ego.
As he slammed the Ford into PARK , his cell phone rang. He let it roll into voice mail figuring the call was from Valentina, then took the elevator to his cold, lonely condo. After he’d locked the door behind him, his cell rang again. This time he checked the caller ID. Danny.
Colt hesitated for a second, then with a sigh, answered. “Yeah, Danny, what’s up?”
“What’s up?” Danny shrieked loud enough Colt had to pull the phone away from his ear. “All hell’s breaking loose here. It took three guys to hold Val back from beating the shit out of Jonas with her damn shoe.”
Colt snorted. “She’s your problem, not mine. I did my part, and now I’m finished with her and the show. There’s no need for you to contact me again.”
“Really? So you don’t want to get paid?”
Gripping the phone tight, Colt whipped the fridge open, then grabbed a beer. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“As an attorney, I’m sure you’re quite familiar with contract law,” Danny said with sarcasm. “Reread your contract, Colt. If the bachelorette picks you, in order for you to earn the money the show had offered, you contractually have to go on the trip to Jamaica. Otherwise, you forfeit your earnings. And if I remember correctly, you’d already promised to donate that money to a charity, right?”
Shit, damn and hell. He had, and while he made a great living, he’d spent a lot of money on the horses he’d rescued, and would rather not dip into his personal assets to donate the thirty thousand dollars.
“You still there?” Danny asked, with a smugness in his voice.
Colt took a long drink of his beer, then slammed it on the granite counter top. “Yeah, I’m here, and I read you loud and clear. What the hell? I’ll go to Jamaica. It’s been a while since I’ve had a decent vacation, but I’ll only go on one condition.”
“What’s that?” Wariness replaced Danny’s smugness.
“I want a separate flight and room.” A long pause ensued, and Colt took another drink of his beer. “You still there?”
“Uh-huh, I’m on my computer now checking flight schedules. I can get you out at five thirty in the morning, which will put you there hours before Val. As for the room? You’re on your own. When you arrive at the resort, check into it. If there’s an additional cost, it’s all on you.”
That he could handle. A few hefty American dollars in the right direction, and he’d have his own suite, far away from Valentina. “Done, but I want no cameras at the airport, and I don’t want Val to know I’ve switched flights.”
“Done.”
“Good.”
“Okay, then, you’re set to roll for tomorrow, I’ll email you the e-ticket and itinerary.”
“Fine.”
“One last thing,” Danny said, his voice low, almost menacing. “I’ve worked with Val for four years. She’s one of my best friends, and like a sister to me. Don’t hurt her.”
Hurt her? She’d been the one doing the hurting, the lying, the humiliating. She’d taken something he’d thought so pure, something he’d been so sure of, and shot it to hell. He’d loved her, physically, emotionally, and she’d used him. He just hoped whatever she gained from playing him for
a fool had been worth stealing the love straight out of him.
“Gotcha, Danny.”
“Do you? Just keep in mind she had a contract, too.”
“So?”
“Again, you’re the attorney, figure it out.”
Colt shook his head, not in the mood for Danny’s cryptic bullshit. “It’s been a long day. I need to get some sleep if I’m going to make that flight.” Before Danny could say anything more, Colt disconnected the call. He liked Danny, but after tonight, he didn’t trust him. Of course the guy was going to go to bat for Valentina. She’d given up her Production Assistant job to save the show.
Dumping the rest of his beer in the sink, he headed for the bedroom, a strange, niggling feeling working its way up his spine. He couldn’t place it, and at this point, he didn’t care. He needed to crawl into bed because he’d have to be at the airport at the ungodly hour of four in the morning.
As he lay in bed, though, sleep evaded him. Everything that had happened tonight, along with everything that had happened over the past four weeks kept racing through his mind. Every one of her smiles, her soft sighs, the way she’d screamed his name when he’d made her come. Her laughter, her quick wit and intelligence.
He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. One more week. He’d endure one more week, like her, for the money. Only his went to charity, and it bugged the hell out of him as he wondered what she’d sold herself for. Hopefully whatever it was had been worth it. Worth all of the love he’d held for her. The love she’d destroyed.
*
Valentina stood outside the gate of her departing flight, while the other passengers—couples mostly—lined up, laughing and snuggling next to each another. Should have been her and Colt, she thought with bitterness as she took her place in line. Obviously Colt wasn’t going to show. He’d made his feelings clear last night, and crystallized them now by not being here to catch their flight to Jamaica.
The line moved, and eventually she shuffled onto the airplane, then made her way to her window seat. She stared at the vacant seat next to hers. Colt’s seat, if he’d had the balls to show.
Minutes passed, the final passengers boarded, the flight crew did their song and dance, and when the plane began to move, the last shred of hope she’d been holding onto snapped. He’d ditched her. Thrown away everything they’d shared over the past four weeks without even giving her a second to explain. How could he? He’d shared her bed, intimate smiles and caresses. They’d lived together. Even now he had clothes in her dresser, his shaving cream, razor and toothbrush still cluttered her bathroom.
Needing a distraction, she pulled the Jamaican resort’s brochure from her purse, determined to make a list of things she could do while on vacation to keep her occupied and her thoughts off Colt. She’d had her crying jag last night, and refused to spend the next week wallowing around in misery over a man who didn’t love her enough to even give her a chance to explain her version. Not that he actually loved her, or that her version was much different than Shepp’s had been, but she had her reasons that had gone beyond the money, promotion and Derek reading her screenplay. She’d saved a show. She’d saved two dozen jobs.
Many members of the crew had families, children to support, bills to pay. While she was no Mother Teresa, she’d likely do the show all over again, even knowing what she knew now. Only she would have broken her contract and told Colt the truth up front. She wouldn’t have led him on, would have been honest about the true nature of her role as bachelorette as well as her feelings for him. Although ticked and hurt that he’d blown her off, she still loved him. She’d loved him since Denver, only she’d been a fool, wasting time, shoving those feelings aside simply because they hadn’t made sense. Because she’d cynically believed love wasn’t that easy. Loving Colt had ended up being the easiest thing she’d ever done. Losing him though?
A teardrop hit the brochure. Followed by another, and another. She used her sleeve to swipe them away, then drew in a deep breath, trying desperately to control her tears. Shoving the brochure back in her purse, she retrieved her iPod and the black sleep mask she’d picked up this morning on the way to the airport. With the mask over her eyes, hiding the tears, and the music blaring from her earbuds, she shut down all the emotions swirling through her head and heart, and drifted off into a fitful sleep.
A few hours later, she lurched forward, the seatbelt biting into her waist. Disoriented and still half asleep, she tore the mask and earbuds from her head and looked out the small window as the plane taxied to the gate.
Palm trees and vibrant fauna greeted her, along with a bright blue, cloudless sky. The couple in front of her whispered and snuggled close to each other, the other couple across the aisle did the same, and she imagined the rest of the plane pretty much followed suit. Love birds, here for a romantic get-away, or a honeymoon, or to celebrate an anniversary. According to the brochure, the resort was a couples retreat, designed with nothing but romance in mind. She didn’t have romance in mind. She had wounds to lick, and a heart to mend.
Forty minutes later, the airport shuttle bus dropped her and many of the other passengers off in front of the resort entrance. She’d been anxious to rid herself of their company. All of the PDA, the cuddling, the private whispers and heated gazes had her resentful, irritated and teetering on the edge of a complete meltdown. She and Colt should have been one of those couples. She’d been planning for this trip, for the moment she’d confess the truth, for the moment she’d tell him she loved him and wanted to give Texas a whirl.
Bitterness of what should have been bubbled deep inside of her. Scowling at the concierge, she made her way to the front desk, retrieved her room key and hoped like hell her suite had a well stocked mini bar.
A resort employee, with a head full of dreadlocks, hefted her luggage onto a brass cart, then took her to her room. After he deposited her bags, she tipped him, then closed the door. She rested her forehead against the wood for a moment, and drew in a deep breath. Considering she’d be spending a lot of quality alone time in the suite, she might as well make herself comfortable.
She glanced around the room, and discovered it was as beautiful as the pictures in the brochure. The main room held a wet bar, small table already set for two, a big screen TV, and loads of island type furniture and fixtures. She wheeled her suitcase to the back bedroom. The enormous king-sized bed sat in the middle, surrounded by more island style knick knacks and paintings. The bathroom was bigger than her apartment kitchen and boasted a huge tub with jets, and a large shower with dual shower massagers. “Perfect for two,” she muttered, and shut the light off, then went back into the bedroom and unzipped her suitcase.
She stared at the clothes she’d packed, wishing she would have tossed the majority of them from her bag last night instead of wallowing in a pint of ice cream in between fits of crying. The sexy bikinis and lingerie mocked her. Considering she wouldn’t be wearing them, at least the tags were still on most of them. Grabbing a stack of clothes from the suitcase, she moved to the tall dresser in the corner of the room, then began to stuff her clothes inside the drawers. When she opened the closet to hang her sundresses, she froze.
A black suitcase and a carry-on bag filled one corner of the closet. Knees wobbly, she knelt, then with shaky hands, she flipped the luggage tag.
Colt Walker.
Tears streaked down her cheeks as hope flared in her chest. He’d come, she released a watery chuckle. He’d actually come.
A door slammed from the front room. She jumped, and nearly toppled into Colt’s luggage. Wiping her clammy palms on her capri’s, she rose and took a deep fortifying breath. Now was her chance to set things straight between them. Her stomach tightened as another wave of anxiety washed through her. She just hoped to God he’d listen.
Why wouldn’t he? she assured herself. Why else would he be here? He had to have realized she’d had no choice but to carry on her charade. He was an attorney, he’d understand she’d been under contract and f
orced to withhold certain details. Confidence replaced her anxiety until she stepped into the other room and caught the scowl lining Colt’s face.
“Hi,” she said with a catch in her breath, and mustered a smile.
He nodded and twirled a pair of sunglasses in his hand. “I’d forgotten my sunglasses.”
She pressed on her belly to alleviate the tension doing a number on her insides. “Oh, well, I’m glad you made it here. When I didn’t see you on the plane...” She let her words trail when she caught the blame and utter annoyance in his narrowed eyes.
“I took an earlier flight,” he drawled, folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the wet bar.
So this is how it’s going to be, huh?
Her temper spiked. So he was hurt, humiliated. What about her? Yes, she should have told him the truth before the season finale, but didn’t he realize what had happened last night had hurt and humiliated her, too? After nearly putting a dent in Derek’s head with her stiletto, she’d learned that he had told Jonas that they were not going to have an imposter this season. Jonas had gone behind his back and had done this to her and Colt.
She’d gotten even, though. No stiletto to his bald head, but she did rant like a demented lunatic. With the entire crew watching, she’d spilled it all. How she’d known Colt previously, about the security tape, the spy cams, everything. Jonas was done in the industry. Derek had fired him on the spot and had told him if he leaked the security tape on the internet, he’d ruin him.
Unfortunately, none of what had transpired after Colt had stormed off helped alleviate the growing tension thickening the room, or the anger flaring inside her. Drawing in a deep breath, she said, “Let me guess, you had Danny book you an earlier flight so you wouldn’t have to endure my presence any longer than you had to.” His eyes slid into cold, blue slits as he stared hard at her. “I’m not stupid, Colt. You’re mad, and I get it. But if you’re so damned mad then why the hell did you bother to come here?”
Pick Me (Reality TV Romance) Page 16
