“Connor’s secretary made a mistake. I just got off the phone with her. You were never meant to see those papers. Besides, you shouldn’t have opened the envelope anyhow. It wasn’t addressed to you, Leah. What does that say about you trusting me?”
“Rubbish. You deceived me.” She stabbed a finger toward the papers now at his feet. “You accuse me of dishonesty, but buster, have you taken a look in the mirror lately? You stormed into my home making demands, blackmailing me. I knew this would never work.”
His mouth thinned, and stared down his haughty nose at her. “It wasn’t meant to,” he finally said. “We never planned long-term.”
“Planned!” Her voice reached fever pitch. “We didn’t plan anything. I didn’t plan anything. But you, Mac, you planned it right down to how you were going to steal my child.” Leah sobbed, furious with herself for being sucked in, for letting her defenses down. For trusting a Grainger again.
As if he ignored what she said, he bent down and picked up the papers, then drew himself upright, all six-foot-plus of powerful testosterone. He gave the legal document a scant glance. Not once did he look guilty, or offer an apology. Then, leaning forward slightly, he rested the tips of his fingers on his desk and fixed an unflinching and resolute gaze on her. “I had to find out the truth. I considered it a precaution.”
“You didn’t even try to believe me, Mac. You just assumed, and because Curtis was your brother, you believed him.”
“I requested Connor to put the papers on hold.”
“When?”
“The day we were married.”
“I don’t believe you. You thought you were onto a good thing, so you stopped anything that would come between me coming to your bed…or not.” Leah shook her head. “It’s too late. How can I ever trust you? You didn’t tell me.”
His expression hardened at her accusation. “I never heard you say no.”
“Oh, but I did. We had rules.”
“One rule, sweetheart, which you broke the first night.”
Oh dear God, what a mess. She’d come in wanting answers about his deceit, and now they talked about what neither could refuse the other every night. A heaviness tightened across her chest at the realization. Mac’s deceit had killed of any hope for love or for a future. Stemming the now familiar ache, she took a step back. She only wished she could shut off her heart as easily. “That’s right,” she finally managed to say. “It was just sex. Not love.”
Mac stilled for a fraction, as if he were about to say something, then changed his mind. “Love has nothing to do with it?”
She wanted to shout no, he was wrong. It was all about love. Foolishly, she had begun to hope it was, wanted it to, desperately so. “You’re right, of course,” she said, reining in every ounce of hurt. She pasted a bland expression on her face that an Oscar winner would be proud of. She wouldn’t let him in again. “Our marriage is pure fantasy, and the bubble has certainly burst. You’ll get your money.”
Just not me.
Chapter Thirteen
Leah dressed with care, no jeans and check shirts or mud-covered boots. Instead, she chose a smart pair of black trousers and matching fitted jacket. Because she didn’t have money to waste and hadn’t bought many clothes to replace the ones lost in the fire, she didn’t have a shirt to wear with it, so she chose a chiffon scarf she hadn’t been able to resist and tied it at her neck in a floppy bow.
For several minutes, she studied herself critically in the mirror. Today she intended to present a professional image and announce to the world, or at least the bank manager, that she was a good investment.
Checking her watch, she realized she had to go. It wouldn’t do to be late when she was about to ask for money.
Thankful the traffic was steady with no holdups, she arrived with a few minutes to spare. Parked across from the bank, she used the time to gather her thoughts, mentally analyzing every scenario the bank might come up with. Unfortunately, every one was unpleasant and ended with a resounding no. Still, the Growers’ Association confirmed all her supporting documents regarding the grove’s yield. Aroha Farm would fulfill its true potential, and she could pay a mortgage and survive—just.
But most importantly, by refinancing she could pay Mac back, get out of his life and get him out of hers.
You’ll be alone. Lonely.
Leah refused to consider that silent prediction.
Twenty minutes later, it was all over and the dapperly dressed bank manager was finishing up the paper work.
“Everything is in order, Mrs. Grainger, but I must say, I am surprised. I mean, your ah…husband,” the bank manager said, his already ruddy complexion turning to the color of beets, “has accumulated rather considerable assets, businesses worldwide, and so forth, so why do you feel the need to come to me?”
Leah kept her emotions in check and her smile tight. “I pay my own debts, Mr. Tanner.” She pocketed the signed mortgage document and confirmation slip that the funds were already in her bank account. “I do not need my husband to support me.”
“But he already does, since he purchased the debt,” the man offered feebly.
“Which I intend to pay back in full, now you’ve agreed to refinance me. Then, Mr. Tanner, you will only have to deal with me, the owner of Aroha Olive Farm.”
A few minutes later, with a bank check secure in her hand, Leah walked out. She lifted her head to the sun, wishing its warmth would seep into her bones. The blood in her veins had chilled to ice.
She should have felt happy. She’d achieved what she’d set out to do. Instead, there was a heartbreaking finality to it all. Temporary would now be over.
She hesitated to start the engine. It meant taking the next step. She stared down at the check in her lap. It was a lot of money.
She stuffed it into her bag when her mobile rang, the tune, an electronic squeal of “Love Me Tender” picked by Charlee, tugging at her heart.
Charlee. Always Charlee. She and Charlee were forever, never temporary, and the irony of the song title and what she was about to do didn’t escape her.
She flicked open her phone, spying the identity panel before she spoke, a sad sigh constricted her chest as she answered. “Hello, Mac.”
“Just thought I’d let you know not to worry about picking up Charlee. I’ve already done it.”
“You what?”
“I was ah…passing and thought why not?”
“Because you can’t, that’s why.”
“Well, Molly didn’t mind. She agreed, and since she met me with you, it was okay, seeing Charlee already calls me Daddy.”
In the background, Leah could hear Charlee’s melodic rendition of “Old MacDonald”, and the age-old mother’s guilt squeezed at her heart. There’d been a farm visit from the kindergarten today, and at the last minute Leah had to pull out of being mother’s help.
“Leah?”
The voice at her ear drew her back from her misery. “I’ll meet you at home.”
“Done. Don’t cook dinner, it’s my turn.”
Leah ended the call and stashed her phone back in her bag. To her dismay, her mouth watered as she thought about Mac’s excellent culinary skills. It was one of several skills he possessed that Curtis had sorely lacked. Damn it, she couldn’t help but dwell on the difference between Mac and Curtis. Brothers, but so very different, and yet Mac wanted to control her too.
Remember the custody papers.
Leah squeezed her eyes shut as the tears began. She cried for Charlee, for her loss of a father, and now of Mac, who Charlee already called Daddy. She cried for family and for love. But mostly she cried for Mac and herself, for what couldn’t be, because he didn’t love her back.
This was it. Temporary was over and out. She pressed the back of her hands into her eye sockets, pushing hard, rubbing away the tears.
No more. They weren’t allowed. She had to be strong, make a stand for her future.
Ignition on, Leah drove across town, little speeches running thro
ugh her head. None sounded right, but then there wasn’t an easy way to tell someone you wanted a divorce.
The thing was, if she didn’t do this now, she’d chicken out and take second best. She deserved better. She deserved to be loved. Mac had to learn that, just like she had.
Back at the Mackenzie International building and in the elevator, she felt a sense of déjà vu wash over her. Their first meeting had been in the elevator, although she hadn’t known who he was, and then they met again here on their way to be married.
Unbidden, images of Mac crossed her mind’s eye—the way his dark eyes flashed whenever he saw her, the way his dimples creased his cheeks, and how she hadn’t been able to stop thinking of him, despite her inner turmoil.
She loved him. Now it was time for a divorce.
Leah punched the button for the penthouse. No business-deal marriage would ever be good enough, nor would a one-sided love affair.
The moment she stepped into the apartment, the rich aroma of tomatoes and olives with the tang of garlic wafted in her direction.
“Mummy, Mummy.” Charlee raced for her, jumping and hooking her legs around Leah’s waist, arms linked around her neck as she dotted tiny kisses over Leah’s face. “Daddy’s cooking, pasta and bolo…bolo. He’s very clever, don’t you think?” Unhooking herself, Charlee slid down and retraced her steps to halt beside Mac. She linked her tiny hand in his, and Leah’s heart tore just that little bit more. She was about to destroy her daughter’s world for a second time.
With an apron tied around his middle, a wooden spoon smothered in spaghetti sauce, he looked so good and for a moment, though, she couldn’t say anything. She simply stared at Mac for one last time. It wasn’t Mac the multi-millionaire she saw, but Mac the daddy gazing down at her daughter with adoration in his eyes. She also saw Mac, the lover. He gave her a goofy smile and a wave with the spoon. “Dinner’s nearly ready.”
She tried to smile back and failed.
His eyes darkened, and a fist tightened around her heart. He knew something was wrong.
“Charlee, sweetheart,” she said, dropping down to her daughter’s level and reaching out to her. Charlee came into her arms, and Leah rushed her to her chest. Pulling away, she looked steadfastly at Charlee. “Do you think you could go play in your room for a while? I need to have a talk with Mac.”
Uncertain eyes lifted toward Mac, then back to her. Leah struggled to keep her emotions in check and not scare Charlee anymore. Then, thankfully, Charlee offered a shrug and a smile as if all were right with the world. “Okay, but I have to tell you about the farm. It was so cool, with monkeys and a zebra and llamas. Daddy thinks the zebra is black with white stripes, but I think it’s white with black stripes. What do you think, Mummy?”
Farm? Daddy? Leah offered Mac a direct look, brows rising, but he said nothing, did nothing, just stared right back.
“You know, I’m really not sure. We’ll talk later, sweetie. Now off you go.”
Grateful that her daughter didn’t argue, Leah watched Charlee skip to her room and shut the door behind her. The moment the door closed, she rounded on him. “What was all that about?”
“I went on the farm trip.”
“You!”
“Yeah, me. Is there a problem?”
“But you’re…”
“Before you say another word,” Mac said, cutting her off, “you couldn’t go. You asked me to drop her off at kindergarten. I did.”
“That didn’t mean you had to inveigle yourself into the trip.” Leah forced herself to remember it was all about temporary, and she was about to end it.
Give him the check.
But damn it, it hurt so bad.
Toughen up.
She tightened the lid on her pain.
Leah leveled her gaze on him. He was beautiful in a hard-edged, masculine way, arrogant, and still she loved him. Suddenly everything blurred. She couldn’t stop crying. Sobs hiccupped from deep down in a pain-filled place. She needed to vent, to scream about how unfair it all was, how she didn’t want to hurt, to be alone, or to love when love wasn’t returned.
“Leah?” Mac stepped forward, but she put out a hand to halt him.
“Don’t come any closer. It won’t work, not now.” She couldn’t cope with him so close she could reach out and touch him, hold him, beg. She fixed her gaze firmly on him. “It’s over.”
He dropped his hands to his side, expression unreadable and eyes almost black. “We had a deal and our six months aren’t up yet.”
“Cancelled the moment I found out about your custody plans.”
“I explained. Rowena thought the papers were to be sent to me.”
“So you said. But you don’t get it, do you? I trusted you.”
Suddenly, she couldn’t stand anymore and, spinning away from him, she walked into the spacious lounge and sank onto the sofa, hugging her bag to her chest. The air that slid from her lungs in one long breath held all her sadness, her hopes and dreams.
Mac had followed and stood in front of her. She lifted her teary gaze to him. “I loved once, only to be fooled into believing that in the end it would be all right. But in the end it was nothing but torture and would never, ever be right. I loved a man who only loved and lived for the next fix.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Your brother.” Even as she said it, a pain burned her chest. “Does it surprise you that your brother was an addict?”
“Drugs?”
She shook her head. “Nothing so visible, but an addiction just as brutal. Gambling, Mac. The family addiction. Your brother gambled his life away, my life and his daughter’s. He couldn’t get enough of it, or enough money, always thinking of the next spin of the roulette wheel, that the next game would solve all his problems, believing he’d be rich.”
Shock and confusion warred for domination in Mac’s hardened gaze. “Are you sure?”
“You doubt it? I lived it. The truth is out now. I won’t protect him anymore. I tried. I’ve made excuses for him, hidden from the bill collectors. Hidden from him too, when he came home, when he had lost.
“Your golden boy brother wasn’t really golden. Well, not in the way he wanted the world to perceive him. He hid his true self. Your brother was flawed, chipped.” Her shoulders sagged. It had been so long since she’d talked, secrets had become second nature.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because of stupid loyalty, though God knows why. I thought I could fix it, fix him, but mostly because of shame… And fear…” She hesitated, then, wondering why.
Funny how it no longer scared her. It was truly over. A brittle smile tempered the strained tension holding her rigid.
“I thought the farm was important, and in a way, it still is, but now only for the income it can provide, and the fact that I love the land and its beauty. In the end, it’s not about the house. That’s gone. Curtis is gone.
“He went from our lives a long time ago. He was a gambler before he was a husband, or even a father. The next money-making opportunity always came first. Then he got sick, and gambling, even a win, couldn’t fix it, and he couldn’t cope with what he’d done. So he drove off the bridge.” She flicked Mac a quick glance. His expression remained distant. Even now she didn’t know if he believed her. “Curtis borrowed heavily on the land, saying it was for developmental purposes.”
“And you believed him?”
“Of course. I was the devoted wife. A gullible fool.”
“But you let me believe you spent all the money?”
“Let you?” He still didn’t understand. “You believed it because you wanted to, Mac. You wanted to assuage your guilt for ignoring your family for years, and decided to believe the word of a liar. Nothing I could have said would have changed that. You’re a clever businessman. You make decisions that cost millions daily. So how come you couldn’t figure this out for yourself?”
“You’d better look at this, then.” He retrieved a manila envelop
e from a pile of papers on a side cabinet and held it out to her.
A sudden flurry of nerves crab-walked down each vertebra. She didn’t want to take it. “What is it?”
“You need to read it.”
Dread curdled in her stomach as she finally took the envelope and with shaking fingers opened it and drew out a single piece of paper. She scanned the typeface, each word slamming into her brain, recognition sealing her fate. “How long has this been going on?” The paper slipped from her fingers and floated to the floor. She didn’t pick up the investigator’s report, wishing she could ignore it, willing it away.
“Since the beginning. Did you think I wouldn’t?”
“I told you what Curtis said wasn’t true.”
“I know that…now. And that you’re a good mother.”
Her hands curled into fists. “You had me investigated.”
“I’m a businessman, it’s what I do, sweetheart.”
“Don’t you sweetheart me. I’ve heard enough.” Reaching for her bag, she delved deep, finding what she should have given him the moment she walked in but had, in truth, hoped by some miracle she wouldn’t have to.
Again she realized what a fool she’d been to hope and dream where neither hopes nor dreams could flourish. The time had come. Without saying a word, she handed the check to Mac.
For a moment, he simply stared at her outstretched hand, only to jerk back up and snare her with an accusatory glare. “What the hell is that?”
She could have said the obvious but didn’t. “Freedom,” she answered. “With the proposed profit from the olive yield, I’m able to remortgage the land. I’m paying you back. You have no control over me anymore.”
Strong words. Words that would create her future, while inside she cried and cried and then cried some more.
“Why?”
“You need to ask?” She shook her head, curls falling across her eyes. She brushed them away and closed off the gates to her heart. “Now that the upcoming harvest has proved it will be beyond promising, I don’t need you.”
He stepped close, then, so close she could smell him. Leah loved his cologne, the notes of cardamom, frankincense and the fresh tang of citrus. She braced herself against temptation.
Secrets and Seductions Page 18
