One-Click Buy: December 2009 Silhouette Desire

by Susan Mallery

  His good mood vanished. Why wasn’t he surprised? “Whatever she said, she’s lying. You can’t trust her, Annie. She’ll do anything, say anything, to get what she wants.”

  “She wants you.”

  Annie paused, as if waiting for a reaction. His was to swear loudly, then punch the wall. Dammit all to hell. “You believed her.”

  “She loves you, Duncan. She realizes she made a mistake and wants to be with you again. You were married—you owe her the chance to try to make it work.”

  She believed her words. He could see the truth in her big blue eyes. There was something else there, too. Pain, maybe. Regret.

  Or was he reading too much into the situation? What he knew about women couldn’t fill a thirty-second commercial. He knew they lied and manipulated. That they only thought about themselves. That given the chance, they would sell out anyone to get ahead.

  Well, not Annie. She seemed to be genuine. He’d seen her with her students, with her cousins, hell, even with his uncle. She was exactly what she appeared to be. Open, honest, smart and funny. She led with her heart, which made her a fool, but everyone had flaws.

  “You’re here to plead Valentina’s case?” he asked. “Did she offer to pay you?”

  “No. It wasn’t like that. She cried. She’s desperately in love with you. I didn’t want to believe her at first, but then she asked me if I’d ever been in love. If I’d ever known down to my bones that someone was the one. She meant it. Every word.”

  He was a whole lot less convinced. “She’s a good actress, Annie. Don’t let yourself get too caught up in her pain. It’s mostly for show.”

  “It’s not. She’s your wife.”

  “Ex-wife. It’s been three years.”

  “Can you honestly say you’re not in love with her? That she doesn’t matter, that she never mattered?”

  “Of course I thought I loved her when we got married,” he said, frustrated. “I was a fool.”

  “You owe it to her and to yourself to hear her out.”

  He stood up and crossed to the window overlooking the atrium below. Folding his arms across his chest, he faced Annie.

  “She got to you.”

  Annie stood. Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them away.

  “She begged me to get out of the way and that’s what I have to do. I’m not going with you tonight, Duncan. Take Valentina instead. Give her a chance.”

  “We have a deal.”

  “It’s nearly over anyway. What does it matter if we stop things now?”

  He’d known his relationship with Annie was finite. He’d designed it that way himself. But until now, he hadn’t been willing to look past the holidays, to the days after. When she would no longer be with him.

  She was leaving. Just like they all left. Her excuse was noble, but the outcome was the same. She would be gone and he would be left here, without her.

  They all left. No one could be trusted. No woman could be trusted. Anger burned hot and bright, but he knew it was merely a shield to something else that would taunt him for a very long time.

  “Our contract is clear,” he told her coldly. “You walk out now and I throw your brother in jail.”

  He braced himself for the anger, the tears, the threats. Instead she smiled.

  “Oh, please, Duncan. We both know you won’t. You’re not that guy.” The smile quivered a little, then died. “Do you think this is easy for me? It isn’t. I love you. But look at you and your life. I don’t belong there. I’ve had a wonderful time and you’re a great man. You deserve every happiness. That’s why it’s important for you to give Valentina a second chance. You loved her once. Maybe it was just the wrong time for the two of you.”

  Once again she was speaking the truth as she knew it. Duncan thought he understood Annie, but he’d been wrong. She loved him and she wanted him to be with someone else? The ridiculousness of it made him even more angry.

  “If you loved me, you’d stay,” he said, his voice practically a growl. “Next you’ll tell me you want to be friends.”

  She winced, as if he’d slapped her. “You’re upset.”

  “You’re playing a game. I expected better. If you want to leave, then go. Don’t give me any bullshit about it being for my own good. That’s crap and you know it.”

  Now the tears fell, but unlike those in other women, these tears seemed to burn him. He felt the searing all the way down to his heart.

  “You’re everything I ever dreamed about. You’re strong and gentle. You’re giving and funny. I want to spend my whole life with you. I want to sleep in your arms and have your children and love you and worry about you. I want to spend fifty years with you and have the neighbors say things like, ‘Those Patricks have been married forever.’”

  She wiped her face with her fingers. “But it’s not just about me. There’s Valentina. So I’m doing the right thing. Because that’s important. But all it would take is one word, Duncan. I’m not fighting this because I didn’t think there was a point. I didn’t think you loved me back. Tell me it’s totally over with her and that you love me. That you want me to stay, and I will.”

  He finally knew her end game. To trap him. “I’d be a great meal ticket,” he said. “And I’ll give you points for originality. That was quite a speech.”

  She stiffened as the color faded from her face. She wiped at her tears again, then picked up her purse.

  “There’s no winning, is there?” she asked quietly. “You told me and told me and I didn’t listen. Maybe you’re right about Valentina and maybe I am. I hope you take the time to find out. As for me, if you can say those words, if you can really think I’m here because you’re wealthy and successful, then you never knew me at all. And I guess I never knew you. Because the man I love can see into my heart and my soul. He knows who I am. And that’s not you. Goodbye, Duncan.”

  And then she was gone.

  Eleven

  Duncan hadn’t been mind-numbingly drunk in years. Probably not since college, when he’d been young and stupid. Now he was older, but apparently just as stupid. He’d avoided work, blown off the last of the holiday parties and had holed up in his condo for three days. Now, hungover, dehydrated and feeling like something that had been dead for a month, he forced himself to shower and get dressed before stumbling into the kitchen and making coffee.

  He’d lost before. His first three fights had been a disaster. He’d barely gotten in a single punch. His coach had told him to go find another sport. Maybe baseball, where the only thing that could hit him was the ball. But he hadn’t given up and by his senior year of high school, half a dozen colleges were offering him a free ride.

  Taking over the family business hadn’t been easy, either. He’d screwed up dozens of times, losing opportunities because of his youth and inexperience. But he’d persevered and now he had it all. But nothing in his life had prepared him for losing Annie.

  Her words haunted him. “The man I love can see into my heart and my soul. He knows who I am. And that’s not you.” He would have preferred her to take out a gun and shoot him. The recovery would have been easier. Or at least faster.

  He told himself that the bottom line was she’d left. She’d walked out. Telling him she loved him first only added a level of drama. He should respect that. And he could. The problem was he couldn’t believe it. Annie didn’t play games.

  His doorbell rang. His head screamed at the sound. He made his way to the door and pulled it open. Valentina stood there, holding a package.

  “This came for you,” she said, handing over the flat box. “I told your doorman I’d bring it up myself.”

  She stepped into the condo and looked around. “It looks great, Duncan. I wish you’d kept our old place, though. There was so much room. Still, we can buy something else. Maybe a house, this time.” She moved toward him and lightly kissed him. “How are you? Your assistant said you hadn’t been feeling well. You’re really pale.”

  He recognized Annie’s neat writing on t
he package. As much as he wanted to open it, he wouldn’t until he was alone. He set it on the dining room table, then returned to the kitchen. The coffee was ready.

  He poured a cup and took a long drink. When he felt the heated liquid hit his belly, he turned back to face his ex-wife.

  Valentina had dressed in winter-white. From her suede boots to her fuzzy sweater, she was a vision of sexual elegance. The woman knew how to wear clothes, he thought. And take them off for anyone interested.

  “Why are you here?” he asked, taking another swallow.

  “I want to talk to you, Duncan. About us. I meant what I said. I still love you. I want a second chance.”

  He looked her up and down. She was still preternaturally an ice queen if there ever was one. At one time she’d been all he’d wanted.

  “And if I said I needed to test-drive the merchandise before I made a decision?” he asked.

  She smiled. “Anytime.”

  “Kids?” She’d never wanted children. Too messy and she ran the risk of screwing up her figure.

  “Of course.” She tilted her head. “And a dog. Please. You can’t have children without having pets. They need to learn about responsibility.”

  “The kids or the dog?” He reached for his coffee. “Never mind. You’re serious about this?”

  “Yes, Duncan. I still love you and am willing to do anything to prove that.”

  Uh-huh. “Including signing a prenup? One that gives you absolutely no part of my business or personal fortune. Now or in the future? You wouldn’t get a penny, Valentina. Ever.”

  He would guess that Botox shots kept her from frowning, but there was no mistaking the tightening of her mouth or the stiffening of her body.

  “Duncan,” she began, then sighed. “Shit.”

  He wasn’t even surprised. “So it is about the money.”

  “In part,” she admitted. “And proving a point. Eric left me. Me. I was going to end things, but he beat me to it, the bastard. I wanted to prove a point. Show him what he’d lost.”

  Pride, he thought. He could respect that.

  “Sorry I can’t help,” he said.

  “Are you pissed?”

  “More relieved.”

  “Excuse me?” she said, walking to the coffee and pouring herself a mug. “You would be nowhere without me. I took a rough, ill-mannered street kid and turned him into a gentleman.”

  “You screwed my business partner, on my desk.”

  “I know. I’m sorry about that.”

  “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “But it was still tacky. I am sorry.” She looked at him. “You look good. I mean that. You’ve come a long way.”

  They talked for a few more minutes, then Valentina left. Duncan closed the door behind her, relieved to have her out of his life. This time for good. Then he crossed to the table and opened the package from Annie.

  Inside was a painting of two boxers. He knew the artist, had a larger piece of his work in his study.

  There was a note inside. No, a Christmas card.

  This made me think of you.

  Duncan studied the masterful work and could guess the approximate price she’d paid. It was a whole lot more than she could afford. Why would she have done this? He checked the date. She’d had it shipped after she’d ended things. Who did that? What was she playing at?

  He didn’t have any answers, a circumstance he didn’t like. He wanted his life simple—predictable. But Annie was anything but. She demanded too much. She wanted him to do the right thing, to be a better man. She wanted him to love her back.

  Back. Meaning he believed she loved him in the first place? And if he did, what was he doing, letting her get away?

  “Very upscale,” Annie said, hoping it sounded more like a tease than nervousness. She sat across from Tim in a comfortable wicker chair on a patio behind the rehabilitation housing where her brother was staying.

  “It’s nice,” he said.

  He sat across from her, relaxed and tanned, more calm than she’d seen him in years. This was the first Saturday visitors had been allowed. Annie had arrived right at ten and Tim had been waiting for her. So far their conversation had consisted of greetings and the weather.

  She picked at the wicker on the arm of the chair, then glanced across the broad lawn. Judging from the uneasy body language she saw in the other visitors, she wasn’t the only one who didn’t know what to say.

  “Are you…” she began.

  Tim leaned toward her and smiled. “It’s okay. You did the right thing. I didn’t believe that until a few days ago, but now I know you were right. I needed help. I still need help.”

  Relief rushed through her. She grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Yeah?”

  He nodded. “I was chasing the dream, Annie. So sure that if I kept trying, I’d hit it big. It’s what you always say about kids who cheat in school. If they would put half the effort into studying, they’d get a good grade. But instead they want to play the system. I want to play the odds. The trouble is, the odds are never in my favor.”

  “Which means what?” she asked.

  “I have a gambling problem. I need to stay away from it. No blackjack, no Vegas, not even a raffle ticket. It’s going to take a while, but I’ll beat this, Annie.”

  She stared into her brother’s blue eyes and felt relief. “I’m glad,” she whispered.

  “Me, too.” He pulled free and shifted on his seat. “About what I said. I’m sorry.”

  “I know.”

  “I can’t believe I stole that money. What an idiot. I really appreciate the deal you made with my boss. Anyone else would have let me go to jail.”

  “I couldn’t do that.”

  “It’s what I deserved.”

  “But not what you needed.”

  “I know. I’ve been in touch with Mr. Patrick. He says I can have my job back.” Tim smiled self-consciously. “Sort of. I won’t have access to any of the bank accounts. I’ll have to earn his trust again, but I will. We worked out a payment plan for me to reimburse him.”

  Tim had talked to Duncan? Annie wanted to ask how he was. She missed him more than she had ever imagined, and she’d known it would be bad.

  “I’m glad,” she said.

  “I want to pay you back, too,” Tim told her.

  “You don’t owe me anything.”

  “Sure I do. Look what you did for me, Annie.”

  “I went to a bunch of parties. It wasn’t work.”

  She’d also fallen in love and gotten her heart broken, but that wasn’t anything Tim needed to hear right now. She would tell him later, when he was stronger.

  “I’ll make it up to you,” Tim promised.

  “All I need is for you to get your life back together,” she said. “Be happy. That’s enough.”

  Her brother stood and pulled her to her feet, then hugged her.

  “You’re the best,” he said. “Thank you.”

  She hung on, willing him to heal. Because if he was all right, then this had been worth it. As for herself, and the aching emptiness inside, there was nothing to be done except hope that eventually she, too, would find her way back.

  Duncan walked into the crowded Westwood restaurant. The hostess smiled at him. “Sir, do you have a reservation?”

  “No.”

  “I’m sorry, we’re booked. It’s Christmas Eve and we’re only having service until seven.”

  “I’m not here for dinner,” he told her, looking into the dining room. “I want to see one of your servers. Jenny.” He spotted her. “Never mind. There she is.”

  “Sir, you can’t disturb our guests.”

  Duncan forced himself to flash her a smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”

  He wove through tables until he was next to Jenny. “We have to talk,” he told her.

  She barely glanced at him. “No, we don’t.”

  She headed for the kitchen. He followed, grabbing her arm before she could disappear behind the swinging doors.


  The restaurant hummed with conversation. Christmas carols played over the speakers. In the kitchen came the call for more turkey, as waiters and cooks battled for space.

  Jenny glared at him, her blue eyes so much like Annie’s. They were about the same height, too.

  “I’ve been looking for her,” he said. “I’ve been everywhere I can think of. Jenny, you have to help me.”

  The college student glared at him. “No way. You’re nothing but a soul-sucking bastard. Do you know she cries every night? She doesn’t want us to know, so she waits until she goes to bed. But we can hear her. She loved you and you hurt her.”

  “I know. I let her go and I’ll regret that until the day I die. I was wrong. She’s amazing and beautiful and so much more than I deserve. I love her, Jenny. I swear, I just want to take care of her. So please, tell me where she is.”

  Jenny hesitated, as if trying to decide.

  “It’s Christmas,” he said. “A time for miracles. Can’t you believe that I’ve changed?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted.

  He stared into Jenny’s eyes. “I love that she would sell her soul to save her brother. And when she’s really stressed, she goes for M&M’s. I love that she’s never quite mastered the art of walking in high heels, so sometimes she has to grab the wall to keep from stumbling. I love how she sees the best in everyone, even me, and believes that everything is possible.”

  He cleared his throat. “I love how she let you and Julie and Kami live with her and that she would accept a new freezer because it would feed the three of you, but fought me on new tires that would keep just her safe. I love how she smiles at her students, how she worries about being a role model. I love how she takes care of the world. But who takes care of her? Who watches out for her and looks after her? Who takes over so she can rest? I want to be that guy, Jenny. I want to be the one.”

  He stopped talking, only to realize the restaurant had gone quiet. He glanced around and saw everyone was staring, listening. A couple of the men looked embarrassed, but the women were all smiling and nodding.

  Jenny drew in a breath. “I swear, if you hurt her again…”