Secrets and Seduction

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Secrets and Seduction Page 20

by Jane Beckenham


  “Forget it.”

  A satisfied smile cut the corners of Connor’s mouth. “Can’t do that.”

  It was the first time Mac had actually heard the “L” word out loud. It scared the hell out of him, and he hadn’t even uttered it. He tried denial. “Your imagination is on overdrive.”

  “Just like your libido.”

  “And you think I’m in love?”

  “You’re exhibiting the classic symptoms.”

  Mac eyed his friend warily. His gut churned, brain waging a silent battle with emotions he struggled to acknowledge, not sure he even wanted to.

  “Let’s see.” Connor counted off on the fingers of his right hand. “You can’t concentrate.”

  “Where is this going? I’m warning you.”

  “You care, Mac.”

  Oh shit. That’s where.

  Mac held back his response. Silence was best. He’d play his cards right, get Connor and his ideas outta here.

  “You’ve got it bad, mate.”

  “Bad?” Could it be fixed?

  Connor offered him a knowing smile. “Very bad. Lust is replete, replaced by love.”

  That bad! “Tough, I’m not interested.”

  Liar.

  He reached for the file that had been sitting on his desk all day that he hadn’t even bothered to open and did so now. Maybe Dear Abby in drag would get the hint.

  “Tell me Leah’s beautiful body isn’t crowding in on your brain space.”

  Mac kept his head down, not actually reading a bloody thing, the type print a blurry patch of black on white. “Shut up,” he growled.

  Connor smiled. “See, told you so.”

  Damn it. His tactics weren’t working, but, and Mac hated to admit it, the man was right. He had it real bad.

  “So what are you going to do about her?”

  “Damned if I know.” He dropped the file back to his desk and found himself staring at the mound of paperwork still to be attacked. Deals. All about deals he’d been concocting, negotiating, building his empire—and for what?

  His friend chuckled. “Yep. Very, very bad.”

  “Shut up, Connor, I’m thinking.”

  “She’s a good woman, Mac.”

  He looked Connor dead in the eye. “I know.” And he’d screwed up, taken his cockeyed ideas about a woman he knew nothing about and who his brother had maligned, all to appease his own shortcomings. Then he’d promised marriage on temporary grounds so Leah’s guardianship would be safe.

  A half truth.

  What he wanted was to keep her in his bed.

  What he wanted was to keep her in his life.

  Hell! He should have realized then and run. He could do temporary, but now he was thinking permanent.

  “Knowing and doing something about it are two different things,” Connor observed.

  “Why the hell did I believe Curtis?” Mac couldn’t believe he’d been so wrong. “I’ve screwed up bad.”

  “Because it was easier, and he’s your brother.”

  “It doesn’t feel good. Believing the worst was less painful in some ways. Knowing I was wrong has caused a lot of bitterness.” Now, he’d never felt so alone in his life. “When I received Curtis’s email, it hit home. He was family, all I had left. Then he was gone, and I was left behind. Because of Charlee, I had a chance to remedy wrongs, but I only made it worse. ”

  “Admitting you’re wrong is always difficult.”

  “Trouble is, now lust will never be enough, and I’ve dug my grave, as far as Leah’s concerned. She sent me packing.”

  “So go fix it,” Connor prompted.

  Mac stretched back in his chair, resting his fingertips together. How the hell did he sort this out? “She doesn’t want me, Connor,” he said. “Shit! What a mess, and it’s all my bloody fault.”

  Connor leaned forward in his chair, his expression suddenly somber. “That’s never stopped you before. I know you, Mac. You love the chase.”

  Mac snorted at that particular truth. “This isn’t business.”

  “Really? I would have thought this is serious business. Something you can’t let go.”

  Mac remembered his joking about funny business and, despite his misery, found himself smiling.

  “So go negotiate, make a deal, fix it. Make her love you. You love Leah, don’t you?”

  The truth? “Absolutely. No hesitation.”

  “You know, mate, there’s one positive on the side of both of you.”

  “Yeah, what’s that?” Mac wasn’t so sure he believed his friend but was desperate to try anything.

  “You haven’t done anything about divorcing Leah.”

  “And I don’t intend to.”

  “But I think you’ve forgotten one little bit of information. She hasn’t either.”

  Mac sat up a fraction straighter. “What?”

  “Neither of you have pursued divorce, so perhaps there’s more chance than you realise.”

  Connor left him then with a world of memories and a conscience full of blame and “what ifs” until he couldn’t deal with them any longer. He shoved them aside, because he also had a dose of hope. Connor was right. Neither of them had gone ahead with divorce papers.

  Mac realized he no control over gamblers and sad childhoods. They belonged in the past, just like Leah had said. He had to make a new future, a new life, one where he would never, ever abandon those he loved. He needed to find a way to get to Leah and make her understand.

  Before, the most precious thing in her life had been the sanctuary of the land and a home. The land was still there…

  Buoyed by the spirit that he could fix things, he snatched up his phone and made a few calls. He wasn’t about to wait any longer to get this particular deal signed, sealed and delivered right back into his arms. Life without Leah next to him was hell, and he desperately wanted heaven with her. And Charlee. He would never forget the first time she called him Daddy. His heart had swelled with so much pride.

  No, he would never give either of them up.

  Within thirty minutes, he’d put everything in place and hit the freeway heading toward Leah’s. He gripped the steering wheel, trying to relax, yet every part of him felt taut and pensive. He had to convince her. Had to.

  Full-blown autumn dotted the landscape, muted shades of orange and rust tinting the leaves, and the once dried grasslands now rolled lush and green after the first heavy rains. It seemed like only yesterday he had driven along these roads that first night in early summer. Back then, he’d been a man with a specific mindset, blind to his misconceptions, uncaring. Funny how love had taken over from business as his aphrodisiac of choice.

  Because of Leah, because of love, all that had changed.

  He smiled, laughed. It felt good. Really good.

  Then he focused on the last kilometer of the narrowed country lane. He glanced to the passenger seat, checking for the umpteenth time that he had everything in place. Roses. Chocolates. Everything to woo.

  The innate businessman in him couldn’t simply leave it to chance, though. Leah wanted freedom, and he was about to set her free. He’d do the right thing for love.

  The sun had begun its descent as he ventured past the grove entrance, and the shadowed outlines of the olive trees tugged at his heart.

  For the first time in a long time, he felt like he was coming home. He belonged here, not the palatial penthouse or his other homes in Monaco or Switzerland, or the apartments in New York and London, but here with his family.

  It all made sense.

  He brought the vehicle to a halt beside the mobile home and half expected Charlee to race outside to welcome him. In truth, he wanted it. Being a daddy made life special, but what he wanted more was Leah to open the door and smile at him.

  The door stayed ominously closed.

  Never more in his life had he felt like an awkward schoolboy on his first date, and fear lodged like a stone in the pit of his stomach. He grabbed the flowers and chocolates and, taking a deep brea
th, rapped on the door and waited.

  The door creaked open, and Leah stood on the doorstep. She took his breath away, although she didn’t look well—tired, but more than that, hollow.

  “Hello, Leah.”

  Suspicion colored her eyes instantly to the deepest of green. “What are you doing here?”

  “Are you going to ask me in?”

  Her fingers curled into white-knuckled fists at her sides.

  Mac frowned. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

  “I wasn’t feeling well,” she said, averting her gaze from him for a moment.

  He could see that, and concern clamped around his heart. He couldn’t walk away and try another day. It had to be now. “How’s Charlee?”

  “Fine.” Her tone was clipped, unyielding.

  He needed to keep trying. “We need to talk, Leah.”

  “We’ve nothing to say anymore. You’ve made your point quite clear.” She took a step back inside. He was losing her.

  You’ve already lost her.

  Despair heightened his urgency. “I’ve got some things for you.” He brought the large bouquet of old-fashioned pink roses out from behind his back and held out the box of chocolates at the same time. He felt a fool, a fraud, and a husband desperate to make amends.

  Tough! He was all those things.

  Leah colored but didn’t reach for the flowers, so he jabbed them again in her direction. “They’re for you.” He tried for a smile, failing miserably. “Sorry, it’s a long time since I tried to woo a woman.”

  Her eyes widened. “That’s because they usually fall at your feet or into your bed.”

  “Leah?”

  She held up a restraining hand. “No, Mac. Don’t bother. I’m over the Grainger charm.”

  “This isn’t anything to do with my family.”

  “Really?”

  “I mean, it’s not about Curtis. Well, it is, kinda, but not really. Oh damn this courting stuff.”

  “Courting? We’re getting divorced,” she reminded him. Her mouth pursed, and for a moment he couldn’t focus on anything else except her beautiful, luscious lips. He wanted to kiss them.

  Frustration tightened the noose around his neck, and he threw his hands up, complete with gifts. A few rose petals scattered to the ground, which reminded him of confetti, and that reminded him about weddings and love and marriage. “You’ve got me in knots, sweetheart. I don’t know what I’m saying or doing.”

  “So why bother? I thought we had discussed all this, Mac. I can’t go through anymore.”

  “And I can’t stay away any longer,” he said with complete honesty. “I know you told me not to come back after the harvest, and I obeyed.”

  “Surprise, surprise.”

  “Yeah, it is,” he said, finally managing a hint of a smile. “I had to come. I want to fix things. I want to fix us.”

  She began to fidget, one bare foot rubbing against the other. Her gaze shifted to the grove then back to him. He was glad of that, wanted her to keep looking at him so he could do the same—look at her and hopefully see a hint of forgiveness in her expression.

  “I made a mistake. Can you forgive me?”

  Uncertainty flickered across her tired eyes. It held Mac captive. All he wanted to do was hold her, love her, but he knew that if he rushed her, she would run from him.

  “You hurt me, Mac. Charlee too. She misses her daddy, and you broke her heart. ”

  A fresh wave of guilt washed over him. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “But what was worse is that you condemned me without knowing me. You wanted to make me pay for someone else’s lies, and all because of your own guilt. Why?”

  Her question was a soft plea, yet its impact on his conscience was huge. “I’m only a man, not infallible.”

  Soft silken curls fell forward and shadowed her eyes, hiding her emotions. She offered a strangled laugh. “It’s too late to mend this bridge. It’s collapsed.”

  Damn. Keep trying. “It doesn’t have to be,” he said, praying for absolution.

  “I won’t settle for half of anything anymore.”

  His eyes widened. Wasn’t that what he was doing now?

  “Oh yes, you offered me your body, but not your…” Leah suddenly clammed up.

  “I want you. I do, believe me.”

  “Maybe you do, but not in the right way. The way that I need you to.”

  He was losing her. “We could date,” he said, desperation taking over.

  A soft chuckle burst from her lips, and for the first time, she offered him a slight smile. “Are you that patient?”

  “You know me too well.”

  She nodded. “You could be right.” The tip of her tongue slid across her lips, and the tension in Mac upped a thousand notches.

  Tell her. Tell her you love her.

  “There are different types of want, Mac. What’s yours?”

  Tell her.

  “I can be patient. I can do whatever you want, whatever it takes. Leah, do you love me?”

  She gripped the sides of the mobile home’s doorway and studied him for a moment. “I thought we had decided what we had was only sex.”

  “Great sex,” he asserted.

  “Wonderful sex,” she agreed. Her tiny smile scored a direct hit with his heart and gave him a fraction of hope at last.

  “Successful marriages have been made on less,” he suggested.

  Her smile vanished, and she grew serious once more. “But not mine. I’ve had one marriage that failed because of a husband who couldn’t provide what I needed.”

  “Safety and security,” he prompted.

  She shook her head, and clutched at her robe, pulling it closer together. He’d never seen her look so sad, and that he had caused it dug his grave into hell. “No. He couldn’t love me.”

  The moment she opened the door to Mac, Leah’s heart began to pound, and she had to clamp her lips together to stop her telling him she loved him.

  Then she watched the light in his eyes dance with hope. It surprised her, because for a man whose emotions were normally kept well hidden, today they were clear for her to see. Yet she held her ground. He wanted her. But would want ever be enough?

  Instinctively she knew that this moment would determine their future. She loved him but couldn’t let him come back unless she believed him, trusted him, and knew in her heart he loved her.

  “Love is useless without trust, Mac. It doesn’t matter what we have in bed. I can give you my body, but trust is far more precious. You destroyed it from the outset. I’m not sure if I can let myself trust you.” I’ve already given you my heart.

  “I know.”

  With every word she uttered, hope died that bit more; for whatever reason, he couldn’t say that he loved her.

  Her fingers curled into fists, nails digging into her flesh until the pain dissolved into a raw numbness. She took another step back into her tiny world, closing off her heart, distancing herself. She had to end this now. “My solicitor has the divorce papers prepared. Your copy will arrive in the mail,” she said bluntly.

  Mac’s mouth drooped, and his shoulders sagged. “And that’s it?”

  “Yes.” Tears crystallized, wavering on bursting the banks. She had to get away. She couldn’t let him see her cry again. That would be too hard, make her too vulnerable. And right now she needed to hold on to any sliver of courage and conviction she possessed. “I can’t go through this again. You have to go.”

  “There’s something else. Something you need to know before you decide.”

  “I already have.”

  “I’ve paid the bank.”

  “What?”

  “Your mortgage. I’ve paid it off. You don’t need to worry about the debt.”

  Leah’s knees threatened to buckle beneath her, and she grabbed hold of the door handle. “I don’t want to owe you. I owe the bank.”

  “You don’t, not anymore.”

  Anger unfurled at every word he uttered. “You bastard, you’ve
done it again. How dare you try and manipulate me. I don’t need you, I don’t want you.” Such lies.

  “I know.”

  “Good. At last you’ve got that in your thick skull. What gives you the right to try and take over again?”

  “I haven’t. I’ve paid the debt, Leah, not bought it. The debt was incurred by Curtis, not you. It’s not right you should pay it.”

  “Oh.” Shock held her speechless. She had finally truly got her freedom. So why wasn’t she happy?

  “There’s another thing,” he said as he reached into his pocket and held out an envelope.

  “What is it?”

  “Just read it, Leah. It’s something you want, what you really deserve, sweetheart.”

  Hearing the endearment, Leah stiffened. “Is this where your actions come with conditions?”

  “I don’t blame you for being suspicious.”

  “I have good reason.”

  “It’s the least I could do. I should have listened to my instincts. You’re a good mother, Leah. Caring. Loving. A child couldn’t want for more.”

  “Thank you. That means a lot to me.” Nervous breathing finally arrested, she took the crisp white envelope with shaking fingers. It was addressed to her with an official seal stamped on one corner.

  Edging her fingernail beneath the seal, she ripped it open and drew out a single piece of paper. Her heart froze, gaze glued to the words at the top. Then she looked up at Mac. “It’s from the courts.”

  “It is.”

  “Oh, Mac. The custody. Charlee’s legally mine.” Tears stung her eyes, her joy instant.

  “She always was. You’re her mother, Leah. One hundred percent. I’m sorry our family ruined your life. If I had known about Curtis’s addiction, I wouldn’t have assumed…”

  “My automatic guilt,” she finished for him.

  “Yes.”

  Her head spun, and she struggled to take it all in. She’d also made the mistake of painting him with the same brush as his brother, condemning him of being like Curtis. Now he apologized, and she said nothing, offered no forgiveness.

  Shoulders slumped, Mac took a couple of steps back. “Good-bye, Leah.”

  Leah’s heart shattered. Mac was going. This was it. The end. No more marriage. No more loving.

 

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