An Inconvenient Obsession (18 page)

He lunged for her, catching the notch of her waist and hauling her back onto the mattress while she squealed. Pinning her beneath one long leg, he tapped the tip of her nose with one finger. “Not so fast,” he warned. “I’ll race you. But when
I win, you’ll pay
my
forfeit, Catydid, and it sure as hell won’t be shells.”

She blinked innocently, enjoying her capture enough to not care who won. “Deal.”

Five minutes later, Ethan had already reached the edge of the water. Dressed in blue swimming trunks and nothing else, he dove into the cool, clear water and embraced the transition from hot white sand to the soothing kiss of the sea. Treading water, he turned to stare back toward the beach house, wondering what was keeping Cate. It wasn’t like her to lose. Ever. Especially when the competition occurred anywhere near the beach.

His
beach.

He smiled, realizing that he’d experienced more pleasure in the past five hours than he’d had in the nine years he’d worked here as a boy. Remembering the way he’d spent himself in Cate and the way she’d responded beneath him, he felt himself harden despite the cold water.

He scanned the walkway, caught sight of Cate and then froze, losing his bearings entirely when a rogue wave caught him and sent him under. When he emerged, it was to find Cate grinning at him, her silhouette framed by blinding sun and blue, blue sky. “Swim much?” she teased.

“You …” Words failed him as he flung water from his hair and devoured her with his eyes. “You lost.”

“Your bikini choice slowed me down.” Cocking a brow, she indicated the scraps of triangular fabric he’d chosen as her suit. “I feel practically naked in this getup, and it took forever to figure out how to tie the pieces together.”

Ethan battled a second surge of lust as he looked at her. Three green-and-pink flowered triangles, strung precariously together with ribbon and loops of metal drew his gaze and wouldn’t let go. A low growl clamored for release as he
scanned her groomed toes, her long, slim legs, the curve of her waist and the lovely, tempting swell of her breasts. She’d donned sunglasses that shaded her eyes and tied her blond hair back in some haphazard knot that just begged his fingers to take it down.

He waded through the water to the sand and then strode toward her, drawing close while a blush tinted her chest and neck. With her hand shading her eyes, she tipped her head back to maintain eye contact. She smelled like sunscreen and tropical flowers, a heady combination that tempted him to haul her back into her scented room and make love to her until night fell. Until they both grew old and wrinkled and couldn’t see anymore.

Too late, he realized the path his thoughts had taken. He felt as if he’d been hit by yet another wave, fighting the realization that pebbled his skin. Since when had he started thinking of sex as making love? Since when had wanting her in his bed changed to wanting her in his life?

“How’s the water?” she asked, curling those pink toenails into the wet sand.

“It’s great,” he mumbled as he stared at her, his breath pummeling his chest. “You’ll like it.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. Her hand, warm against his wet flesh, alit upon his arm. “It’s not too cold?”

Shaken, his thoughts reeling, he dipped his gaze to her slim fingers. And suddenly, he realized he didn’t care about his revenge anymore. Cate didn’t deserve to be punished. She deserved to be loved. By him. Perhaps she always had.

Oh, God.

A sick sense of dread washed over him as his thoughts turned to the avalanche of disaster he’d already set into motion. It had required quick footwork and countless calls, but the players were all engaged now. The contracts were drawn up and signed. The train wreck he’d sent into motion
already had wheels and fuel. Within ten days, Cate’s company would be reduced to mere scraps, its healthy components sold out from under her and its real estate rented out to the highest bidder.

Could he stop it?

Or was it too late?

“Welcome home, dear,” said Mrs. Bartholomew the Monday after Cate returned home from the island. “How was work?”

“Long.” Cate sighed, shrugged off her coat, then hung it in the front entryway closet. Concentrating on the daily grind of business when she hadn’t heard from Ethan since their flight home had definitely taken its toll.

Not that she expected him to call. Despite their idyllic day and endless night on the island, she knew he wasn’t the type to drag things out once they’d ended. He’d been very clear about his opinion regarding relationships. He believed in physical pleasure and no emotional messiness. No love.

Besides, she couldn’t offer what he needed anyway. He needed someone healthy, someone strong. Someone who didn’t have to visit doctors every few months because her body didn’t work right anymore. Heartsick, exhausted and fighting a ridiculous welling of tears, she mustered a smile. “If it’s all right with you, I think I’ll just take a hot bath and turn in early tonight.”

“You might want to visit the study first.”

The study was the
last
place she wanted to go. “Can’t it wait until the morning?”

“I don’t think so, dear. Ethan’s been waiting over an hour already.”

“Ethan?” Anticipation and hope surged as Cate darted down the hall. She flung the door open and then froze, struck immobile by surprise.

Vase upon vase of flowers crowded the desktop, filling her
vision with every tropical hue: riotous pinks, blinding yellows, deep reds, scandalous purples and rich creams. Their scent filled the room, steeping her senses in memories of the island and startling her heart into a frenzy of thudding beats.

“Did you miss me?” Ethan asked from the shadows. The way he murmured the question, an intoxicating blend of warmth and lust, made her wonder how she’d ever thought to keep herself from loving him. As much as she knew she shouldn’t, as hard as she’d tried to keep her heart safe, she loved him.

“Very much,” she whispered.

“Show me.” He sat sprawled on the couch, beckoning her forward with a beguiling smile. “Come. Sit.”

A dizzying hope pulsed beneath the surface of her skin, making her tremble as she moved to perch beside him on the wide leather couch. He twirled a single orchid between his thumb and forefinger, and as she watched, he leaned to brush its plump petals along her cheek. The lavish perfume and decadent softness brought a stinging bite of tears to the back of her throat.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you,” he breathed, canting his head and claiming her mouth in a drugging kiss.

For a moment, she lost herself in the magic of his lips against hers, the warm, heady pulse of arousal banishing her earlier fatigue.

“Did you think about me?” he asked against the sensitive patch of skin beneath her ear.

“I thought we’d concluded our transactions,” she gasped, arching her neck to grant him better access. “No messy emotional entanglements, remember?”

“I was wrong,” he murmured. “I want to get messy with you.”

Much, much later, rumpled and happy and so much in love
her heart didn’t seem to fit properly in her chest, Cate kissed Ethan goodbye with a promise of tomorrow hovering on his lips.

She returned to the study to find a blown glass bowl and an oblong envelope nestled among the vases of flowers. The large bowl had been filled with countless pink and white shells of various shapes and sizes and etched along its scalloped edge, the words
I will pay whatever forfeit you ask and it will still never be enough
snapped her love for him into even sharper focus.

Cupping a palm over her mouth, she tried to contain the trembling that overtook the muscles of her face. Dare she hope? Dare she dream of a future she’d never thought possible?

Gathering up the envelope, she ran a trembling thumb beneath its seal. Inside, she found a heavy sheet of cream paper, this one folded in thirds. Shaking it out, she saw that it was filled with Ethan’s bold, slanted scrawl.

My dearest Catydid,

I am yours. Always.

No matter what happens, remember that.

E

Cate inhaled sharply and refolded the paper, pressing the letter between her palms and biting her quivering lips to keep from bursting into tears.

I am yours, too, Ethan. I always have been.

N
INE
days of bliss later, Cate stood at her office windows in the Carrington Building, staring sightlessly at the spattered raindrops on the wide wall of glass. Despite it being closer to noon, the overcast skies and persistent rain made it feel like it was far later. The weather matched her mood perfectly, and she lifted a palm to the cold glass. A thin mist of fog gathered around her flattened fingertips, then swiftly dissipated as her hand cooled.

Behind her, strewn across her desk and filled with far too many lines of damning truth, lay the most recent report from Joe Benson. Not wishing to alarm her until he’d known for sure, her father’s most trusted advisor had assigned four different teams from two different firms to research the previous two weeks’ stock transactions. This morning, a mere three hours and eight minutes after she’d climbed from Ethan’s warm bed, Joe had provided copies of everything: the contracts that had been drawn up without her knowledge; the records of dissolution for multiple small enterprises Carrington Industries had funded; the votes that had been cast during the only board meeting she’d missed since her father’s death. With the evidence too convincing to deny, she’d been forced to acknowledge the truth.

She no longer controlled her own company.

And by tomorrow morning, her father’s company, the
company that had been in the Carrington family for over a century, would cease to exist. The Manhattan headquarters, the seat of Carrington Industries for nearly as long, was being subdivided and rented out to competing companies. The family’s properties, its businesses, its charities … all of it. Gone. Dismantled. Destroyed or sold or absorbed into one of Ethan’s subsidiaries.

And she hadn’t suspected a thing.

With her throat too dry to swallow, Cate opened her mouth and dragged in a steadying breath. How had this happened? How had she not seen it?

Because she’d seen only what Ethan allowed her to see. And she’d wanted to believe in him. In the two of them. She’d wanted to be loved so, so much.

But she’d been wrong. Stupid and blind and wrong. The whole time he’d been seducing her, breaking down her defenses and making her fall in love with him again, he’d been plotting against her. Hating her. Biding his time until he could destroy her.

Shock coursed through her, lacerating her chest, her heart, her lungs. Cate willed her brain to keep thinking despite the pain. Oh, God. It hurt. Worse than she’d ever imagined.

Closing her eyes, she berated herself for not heeding her own warnings. She should have trusted her first instincts. She’d known he hated her, known he wanted revenge. What she hadn’t known was how far he’d go to hurt her. Taking her virginity wasn’t enough. Pretending to accept her scars and making her believe in love again wasn’t enough. No. He had to destroy every facet of her life. Her heart. Her company. Her memories.

Her lungs tightened. Seized. Grew sluggish with cold, icy pain. How he must have laughed at her pitiful weaknesses and flaws. How he must have gloated once he’d reached her vulnerable core. And still, confident that his secrets remained
undiscovered, he continued to lie. He systematically tightened the web he’d spun around her, pulling her closer and closer while he orchestrated her demise behind the scenes.

Painful cramps wrenched her empty stomach. Her throat burned. Her legs quaked. Too shocked to cry, she could only stare blindly down at the empty parking lot. How much longer had he planned to continue the ruse? How many more times had he planned to make love to her, to murmur endearments against her flesh while he seduced her into compliance?

Her chest tightened, struggled to draw breath while her lips worked soundlessly. She couldn’t bear it. Couldn’t bear that she loved him when everything he’d said, everything he’d done, was a lie. Pressing her knuckles against her mouth, she dropped her forehead to the glass while uncontrollable tremors claimed her limbs.

A slight knock gifted her with a shred of strength, and she straightened. Before the door even opened, Cate felt a prickling warmth steal over her skin, inching its way from her fingertips to her hairline. Trapped, she turned and tried to affect a calm demeanor. The numbness that had clogged her limbs since reading the lawyers’ reports turned to tingling needles of ice. The door opened and her assistant ushered Ethan in with a cheerful smile and a promise to fetch fresh coffee.

He assured her it wasn’t necessary and then closed the door with a soft, ominous click.

Unwelcome desire, laced with thawing anger and wrenching pain, rose to flutter against her ribs.

“Hello, gorgeous.”

The deep voice sent her senses off kilter, spinning her world off its axis. Could she pretend she didn’t know? She tried to affix a pleasant smile to her face, failed miserably in the attempt, then ducked her head to disguise her unease. “I didn’t expect you so soon.”

He walked toward her while her thoughts careened like a wild carnival ride. It amazed her that she could feel such a consuming blend of anger, betrayal and need for another person, that having him near sent her heart into such a clumsy, thudding delirium. She had trouble breathing normally, and it required scrupulous effort to appear serene.

“I missed you,” he said, crossing the muffling carpet and joining her at the window. “What do you say we have lunch together?”

Cate lifted her eyes while her nerves stretched taut.
What do I say to him?
Unlike two weeks ago, when the distrustful gleam in his gaze testified to the shield he’d erected between them and warned her to keep her distance, he’d perfected a look of open, unfettered yearning.

Now, with less than two weeks of practice, he looked as if he truly meant all the things he’d whispered against her damp flesh. Gone was the thinly veiled hatred in his expression. Gone was the sardonic twist to his mouth, the shuttered inscrutability within his eyes.