He squeezed her hand, then laced their fingers together and examined them, seemingly fascinated by the interweaving. “I’m not good at this, Celestina.” He held up their joined hands in demonstration. “I’ve never asked a woman to live with me before. Never wanted to. I know I did things wrong last night, but I want to get better. I want this to work between us.”
“You didn’t do things wrong.”
“I did. I was supposed to be sympathetic and comfort you instead of moving immediately to problem-solving.”
She nearly laughed, but he was totally in earnest. “Did someone tell you that?”
“Yes.” He looked both sheepish and irritated. “I needed expert advice, so I asked a woman who works for me.”
Unreal. “You told one of your employees about our fight and she gave you advice on how to talk me out of my tree.”
“Yes. Without personal details, of course.”
“Did you tell her the bit about me submitting sexually to you, which therefore means that I want you to be my sugar daddy and take care of me for the rest of my life?”
“Of course not!” he bit out. “And that is not what I meant by that ill-advised remark. If I could take it back I would.”
“What did you mean by it?”
“That it’s okay for you to need me—either sexually or financially. I want to be there for you, Celestina. I want you to need me.”
Unsure how to process that, she tucked it away to think about later. With him holding her hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb and idly toying with the diamond bracelet, she found herself falling under his sensual spell. He possessed so much forceful charisma that everything he said seemed true in the moment. Only later did her mind unfog enough to question his assertions.
“It sounds like you talked to the girls about moving in?” He made it a question, though that much had been obvious. She raised her gaze from their joined hands to study his face. He seemed to be deep in thought, turning the bracelet so the diamonds snaked over her skin.
“Last night, before I saw you.” When she’d still been on the post-coital high of explosive sex. One of her many, repeated mistakes—making decisions for emotional reasons.
Something she had to change.
“Obviously they’re thrilled, dazzled by the money and everything.” She took a steadying breath. “But I’ve decided it’s a bad idea. I’ll talk to them again and we’ll get things figured out. I’ll work with your CPA because I clearly need the help desperately. Then I think I should talk to her about filing for bankruptcy and then take this job. I’ll find a way to pay you back for everything.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
“Ah.” He didn’t look up at her, the wheels in his brain turning with the spin of the bracelet, dazzlingly bright on her dusky gold skin, crossing her fragile blue-veined wrist. She seemed so remote. Not angry with him anymore, but...resigned. Disappointed in him. Planning to run in the opposite direction. For someone who prided himself on seizing opportunities, he’d certainly blown the one she’d handed him. He could have cemented her trust in him and instead he’d shattered it. Maybe forever.
“Did they offer you the job?”
“They want to interview me and it sounds promising. This is the responsible thing to do.”
“And staying here with me isn’t responsible? You’d rather break up with me?” He’d meant the question as a way of throwing down the gauntlet, setting the stage for turning the negotiations in his favor. Instead of putting him in the position of power, the question made him feel crazily vulnerable. Worse when she didn’t immediately deny it.
“Ryan...” She sounded exasperated. Sad. “Let’s not kid ourselves. I can’t break up with you because we’ve never had an actual relationship. It’s more...severing a contract, right?”
She shifted on the seat, trying to catch his eye, so he made himself look at her. So lushly beautiful. The blue shouldn’t have worked on her, but it did, bringing out an unexpected navy sheen in her hair. She wore overstated rhinestone earrings when she should be wearing more diamonds, worthy of her regal bearing and damnable pride. His heart clenched at the sense of impending loss.
“If that’s how you feel, why are you here?” His voice came out harsh and she flinched. Cat had been wrong. He should have stuck with money. It had worked in the past with Celestina. It would have worked again. Certainly better than this floundering through showing her understanding.
“I promised,” she said softly.
“That’s the only reason?”
She pressed her lips together and lowered her eyes slightly. “That and because I thought I should tell you in person.”
A bit of a tell there. Something she wasn’t saying. Or outright lying about. At the very least, by seeing this through, she’d given him a few more hours to change her mind. He couldn’t see himself groveling, but he could work on her insecurity over the finances. Give her the diamond choker he carried in his pocket. Whether she liked it or not, she instinctively responded to him taking charge—he could use that to his advantage, push her into committing to moving in. Use her guilt over disappointing the twins, over moving them across the country, away from their friends.
But that’s what he’d been doing all along, his usual manipulations that had brought them to this impasse. He’d lost the game that way and could stand to lose again, only postponed. If she moved away, he might not withstand the blow.
Give her that sweet, sweet lurv. It’s all any of us really want.
With nothing left to lose, he decided to give Cat’s advice one last go.
They pulled up to the curb, the lights spilling brightly out of the Getty Villa, and he handed Celestina out of the car. She took in the streams of people heading into the building, the other women dressed far more formally, and she frowned, shaking her head slightly. A mistake then, not to have given her better instructions on what to wear. He’d been trying to give her what he’d want—to show her he trusted her judgment, but that, too, had been a mistake.
He was seriously on a roll.
“We don’t have to go in,” he offered, yet again.
Her dark eyes flashed with wounded pride. “Don’t be silly. We’ve gone to this much effort. Unless you’re embarrassed to be seen with me?”
The accusation cut through his self-pity, sparking his own anger. “Don’t be ridiculous. You could be wearing a burlap sack and still be ten times more beautiful than any of these women.”
She smiled a little, a bare hint of her gloriously radiant one. “That’s sweet of you to say.”
“I’m not sweet—that’s the honest truth. You’re the one wanting to break up with me, Celestina. Not the other way around.”
Her smile faded and she searched his face uncertainly. Seemed about to say something, then tucked her arm through his. “Let’s go in then.”
* * *
Ryan escorted her into the gorgeous museum, amid the dazzling women and imposing men, the glittering jewels and expensive scents. He was in a mood, running hot and cold on her. One moment flattering, the next boiling with angry frustration. To be expected, really. He’d been clear from the beginning that he liked to win and she’d foiled him. He seemed so honestly hurt by her decision, however, that she very nearly reneged. Yet again.
Another failing of hers, that she couldn’t seem to stick to her resolutions.
Still, so much of that had to do with his devastating effect on her. She’d lied about why she’d come tonight, but it hadn’t seemed wise to tell him that she wanted to spend a few more hours with him, store up some memories to last her once she removed herself and the girls from his life. She’d even put condoms in her evening bag, planning to seduce him in the limo on the ride home. One last time to drown herself in his particular erotic magic.
And he was wrong about her wanting to break up
with him. She hated making this decision. But she had to start making grown-up choices, which meant looking down the road and predicting outcomes. If she moved in and then had to leave, she might not recover. Her heart, maybe never very strong, had been weakened with Ara’s death and Noah’s negligence. She needed to get smarter and start guarding it like the fragile thing it was.
Ryan brought her a glass of wine and escorted her around the silent auction, gallantly bidding on the least thing that caught her eye, as if they had a future beyond the evening. Though the gardens bloomed as ever, the lovely fountains and pools she remembered from visits in happier days all stood dry in obedience to the drought restrictions. As if she needed reminding that things had changed.
She hadn’t appreciated the water then, so she made an effort to enjoy these last hours with Ryan. With a possessive hand on the small of her back, he introduced her to his colleagues, acquaintances and business rivals alike with the same pride he’d shown on their first outing.
The women might have looked her over with disdain for her too-poufy dress and costume jewelry—though their gazes fastened with avaricious interest on the tennis bracelet—but the men flirted with her graciously, much more interested in the cleavage the bodice displayed than anything else. One of Ryan’s colleagues pulled him aside to discuss a point of business and she found herself temporarily adrift, immediately missing his reassuring presence.
Another good reason to extract herself before she became totally dependent on him.
Unfortunately, the moment also left her without an excuse to sidestep Sarah Prescott, who spotted her and bore down like a competition-seeking missile.
“Christina Sala, right?” She fake-smiled, allowing a look of amused disdain to cross her face as she took in Tina’s dress.
Tina didn’t bother to correct her as Sarah didn’t strike her as someone who wouldn’t remember names. Better not to react to the insult. “How nice to see you again, Sarah. Is this party also one of yours?”
Sarah made a moue and shrugged elaborately, almost spilling her champagne. “Caught! You know I love to rope in Ryan and his impressive...bank accounts whenever possible. I was surprised to see you as his plus-one.”
“Oh?”
“He rarely brings the same woman twice,” she explained, a line forming between her sculpted brows. Her gaze flicked over to where Ryan stood by the bar, that look of wounded longing darkening the pale blue. Then she scanned Tina again, lingering on the diamond bracelet. “Really, I never thought that Ryan would, well—you’re not really his type.”
“Type?” Tina repeated dumbly.
“You know.” Sarah gave the words a pointed significance. Just girls sharing secrets, urging Tina to understand. “You’re not really from the same worlds. I mean, we couldn’t run the city without you people, but...” She trailed off with a rueful smile, shrugging helplessly, the silver straps of her sequined gown nearly sliding off her elegant shoulders. “You know what I mean.”
“It’s true. The Catalan people have played a pivotal role in world history.”
Sarah’s smile faded. “Cata—?”
“Barcelona. Between Spain and France? I’d think someone as cultured as you would be familiar.”
“Oh! Of course, I adore Barcelona. I just didn’t realize.” Sarah sipped her champagne and eyed Tina. Clearly reassessing. “I hope I didn’t offend you.”
She probably meant that in all sincerity. Not the sharpest tool in the shed as her grandmother would have said. Still, the emotions of the sort-of fight with Ryan, her own doubts and restless irritation wouldn’t let her drop it. “Why would you think so? Did you imagine calling me Mexican was an insult?”
“No. It’s just that—well, your ethnicity doesn’t matter, anyway. I feel like I should warn you, so you don’t get your heart broken.” Sarah’s eyes wandered over to Ryan again, her own heartbreak showing clearly. “Better women than you have tried and failed to hook that fish. He won’t ever love you. I’m not sure he’s capable of it.”
“Because he didn’t fall for you?”
“Oh, he fell for me, all right. We shared a number of intimate evenings. And will again. He always returns to me.”
“But he doesn’t love you.”
Sarah snapped her attention back to Tina. “Love is an illusion. A game we play with ourselves to justify getting what we want. He might not have fallen for me yet, but I’ve got years invested in him. And I’m a far better choice for a man of his status and lifestyle.”
Fury boiled in her veins. Damn Ryan for dragging her into this. She knew perfectly well his social circles weren’t hers. One more nail in the coffin of this misguided relationship. If she had moved in with him, this sort of thing would have greeted her at every event he badgered her into attending. It had never been her idea to reach for more than she was.
Sarah emptied her glass and gave Tina a sympathetic smile, daring her to argue the point.
“I’m afraid you’re the one to be disappointed, Sarah, if you hoped for drama.” She stared the woman down, calling on all her pride to straighten her spine. “I don’t care about Ryan any more than he cares about me. I was in it for the money and sex. You’ll be happy to know that, after tonight, that too is over. I’m out of here. You won’t have to tolerate my presence again.”
With that triumphant response, she turned to make a dramatic exit.
And crashed right into Ryan, fury and devastation in his gaze.
* * *
If his brains weren’t already leaking out of his ears, they would be in another moment. Sarah widened her eyes in pretend horror and covered her mouth, artfully letting out a sly giggle. “Ryan! What a terrible thing for you to overhear. I’m so, so sorry for you.”
“Fuck off, Sarah,” he snapped, taking Celestina’s arm in a tight grip, preventing her from running as she seemed about to do. She’d paled at the sight of him and the knowledge that he’d overheard her. Halfheartedly, she tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her. “Come with me.” He scanned the ballroom for an exit, dragging her to it and out of the Villa. The walk sign across Pacific Coast Highway caught his eye, a fortuitous happenstance, and they crossed through the headlights of the waiting cars to the beach. The sound of the surf would suffice to cover the shouting argument he intended to have with her.
Enough of this dance. They would have this out once and for all.
She didn’t protest or resist as he pulled her along, but her breathing had gone a little ragged. More upset than she let on, with her composed expression and lifted chin. For his part, he worked on channeling his temper.
They reached the sand and she stopped. “I have to take off my shoes.”
He let her pull away, but stayed close, in case she bolted. She read that in his posture, because her dark eyes glittered in the light from the boardwalk. “Are you planning to kill me and dump my body in the ocean?”
“The idea has merits,” he tossed back at her. “But no—you yourself said I’m not that person anymore.”
She winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”
Taking her arm, forcing himself to be gentler this time, he tugged her out to the sand. “We all say things the wrong way sometimes.”
She threw down the shoes and pressed her fingers to her temples. Took a deep breath and folded her arms, staring at him defiantly. “What are we doing out here, Ryan? We’re just going to keep digging this hole deeper.”
“No—we’re going to communicate honestly. Not something that either of us appears to excel at, but by God we are going to have this out. What in three blue hells made you say what you did to Sarah?”
“She pissed me off.” Celestina snapped up her chin, daring him to disagree.
“Understandable, but hardly the most politic way to handle her.”
“Oh, so sorry! Did I embarrass you
in front of your society friends? That’s what you get for dragging your blue-collar ethnic whore to the fancy party. Sometimes she piddles on the floor.”
“That is such a wrong-headed idea. Don’t you ever say anything like that to me again.”
“You can’t control what I say. Not anymore.”
She made him absolutely crazy. With no other outlet, he clenched his fists and turned and roared incoherently at the uncaring surf.
When he turned back to Celestina, she’d taken a step back, watching him with wide, cautious eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. I won’t hurt you.”
“I never thought you would. I’m—” Her voice cracked a little. “I’m just really sorry I upset you this much. I know you like to win and we had great sex, but I don’t understand why you can’t just let this go. There are other women for you—like Sarah.”
“I never wanted Sarah. I want you.”
“You slept with her.”
He snorted. “Did she say so? She lied to get your goat. I’m surprised you fell for that.”
She sagged a little, some of her temper bleeding away. “Ryan—the point is that I don’t belong in your world and there are other women who do.”
“Is that your problem? Because you know better than anyone that I tricked and scammed my way into this ‘world,’ even bought my way in. None of those people know what I come from, what I’ve done. And frankly none of them care. We’re not living in feudal Europe. You’re ten times classier than the Sarah Prescotts. She doesn’t like you because she knows it—and she’s jealous of you.”
“I don’t know why. You and I don’t have any kind of real future.”
He thought his teeth might crack from clenching his jaw so hard. “I offered you a future. I offered you any God Almighty thing you want. What do I have to say to get that through your thick skull?” This was the opposite of groveling. Not following advice at all.
Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Look. I’m sorry. I’m really so, so sorry that I can’t take you up on that offer. Your generosity is amazing and I thought about it. I really did. But I can’t do it. I just can’t.”
Under Contract Page 31
