The Tycoon Meets His Match (20 page)

She frowned, sitting ramrod straight in the seat opposite. “You tell me. One minute I’m bumping down the highway on a Harley and the next thing I know, I’m gliding off in luxury. What’s next? The company jet?”

“It wasn’t available.” He started to grin but thought better of it when he saw her frown. “Seriously, Trae, I’m not that rich. Don’t you think if I had a plane, I’d have used it long before now?”

“Instead, you call on the old company limo.”

Was she actually complaining about riding in luxury? “Don’t knock it. With Leroy driving, I can send e-mails, set up appointments, maybe even fit in a nap. All of which I could never do on a Harley.”

“Yeah, but I miss that motorcycle,” she said wistfully as she gazed out the window.

So do I,
he almost told her, but all good things must come to an end. Living life on the edge had been an exhilarating experience but Rhys could no longer ignore the fact that while he’d been chasing Lucie, his other world—the
real
world—had been coming apart at the seams.

Still frowning, she nodded at the laptop and briefcase on the seat beside him. “So that’s why you have the office equipment? Couldn’t go this long without checking in to the office?”

He hesitated, wondering what to tell her. “There’s trouble with our new acquisition,” he said, opting for the truth. “Stanton, Inc. has hired new lawyers, greedy ones. Jack swears that he’s got things handled, but…”

“You’ve never been one for standing on the sidelines,” she finished off for him.

He couldn’t have explained it better. “Yes, I’m used to being in charge. It doesn’t feel right, being so far away at such a crucial moment.” He knew he had no one but himself to blame for his predicament. Traipsing around, pretending he had no responsibilities to anyone but himself—what did he think would happen?

“People are depending on me,” he insisted. “Not least of all my brother. Jack was just starting to come around, to show some responsibility, but these negotiations might be more than he can handle.”

“Must be tough, Atlas, having to bear the whole weight of the world on your shoulders.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“C’mon, Rhys, nobody should ever be that indispensable. Give poor Jack a chance to prove himself. He’s never going to know what he’s capable of if you’re forever bailing him out of trouble.”

“But what if he screws up?” Rhys said, shaking his head. “It could cost the company a great deal of money.”

She frowned. “And what’s more important? Money, or your brother’s self-esteem? And before you answer, feel what’s in here…” She leaned over and laid her hand over his heart. “Don’t just parrot some nonsense your father put in your head.”

Rhys felt suddenly unable to move, caught by the earnest intensity in her gaze. She was doing it again, making him feel things, want things…

He looked away, knowing he couldn’t let himself get drawn back into that fantasy. “It’s all a moot point. We should be catching up to Lucie soon, anyway, and I will go back to the office. And before I forget…” Sighing, he reached into the briefcase and pulled out a banker’s check. “Here’s what I owe you.”

“What’s this?” She looked concerned—no, worried—as she studied the numbers on the check.

“I’m paying up. Clearly, you won our bet.”

He braced himself, waiting for her to start berating him for giving up, but she merely dropped the check on the seat as she gazed listlessly out the window.

“I also took care of the rental company.” He sighed again. “That was fun,” he added, sarcastically.

Studying his face, she seemed upset. “My, my, weren’t you the busy little beaver? While I was so blissfully napping, there you were, solving all the world’s problems by writing your checks.”

“This annoys you? I thought you’d be relieved.”

She looked as confused as he felt. “I am. I only wish it didn’t make me feel as if I’ve just been paid off.”

It was his turn to be annoyed. “You and your stubborn pride. I should have known you’d react like this. Especially after Cancun.”

“What is it with you and Cancun?” She sat forward, her green eyes flashing sparks. “The way you talk about it, you’d think I’d committed some major crime there. For the record, it was Quinn’s idea to go to Mexico, and I sure wasn’t the one dancing on the table. Why are you always singling me out for all the blame?”

Good question. Maybe because even back then, she’d represented danger. Not just for Lucie, but also himself. From the start, he’d sensed how a man could get lost in her deep, fathomless gaze.

“No one is singling you out,” he told her brusquely. “And I wasn’t paying anyone off. I’m merely trying to tie up lose ends.”

“So now I’m a loose end. What comes next? You toss me, with your stupid guilt check, out on the next corner?”

“Cut it out, Trae. I already told you we can devote one more day to this.”

“And then what?” She glared at him from the opposite seat. “I’m supposed to slink off into the sunset?”

“What the hell do you want from me? I thought we both agreed that last night was a mistake?”

She looked away first, but not before he saw her wounded expression.

“I didn’t mean…”

“I know what you meant,” she said dully. “And don’t worry. I, of all people, know better than to make more out of last night than was actually there. We had a thing. It’s done. Time to move on.”

“Trae…”

“No, it’s okay, really. I…I guess I got caught a little unprepared.” Refusing to look at him, she played with the hem of her skirt. “I knew our little adventure couldn’t continue forever, especially not after what we did last night, but I guess I didn’t expect it all to end so abruptly. Look at you in your suit and tie, surrounded by your equipment, landing smack dab back in the middle of square one. Call me rigid, if you must, but I need some time to adjust. Another day or so, and maybe I, too, can go on as if this whole week never happened.”

“That’s not what I…”

“Who am I kidding?” she interrupted, squeezing the hem in her fingers. “I doubt I’ll ever get to that stage. I’m afraid I’m going to remember this week for the rest of my life.”

Rhys closed his eyes, not knowing what he could possibly say to her. He wanted to tell her that she was not alone, that he’d probably be doing the “what ifs” to his grave, but how would that help either of them? “I’m sorry, Trae,” he said stiffly instead. “If things were different…”

He trailed off, realizing that it, too, was a fantasy going nowhere. “But they’re not,” he went on firmly. “I made a promise to Lucie. I have to keep it. Even if…Even if Lucie is having trouble holding up her end of the bargain.” Seeing Trae form a response, he quickly added, “And, yes. It’s that important to me.”

“I know. A Paxton never goes back on his word.”

“No, you don’t know. Not all of it.”

“Then tell me.” She leaned forward. “I’m listening.”

Trae always listened, he realized. Which was probably why he kept telling her things he’d never admitted to anyone else.

And maybe he owed her this. More than anybody, Trae deserved to know why last night, no matter how incredible, could never be repeated.

“You need to understand what an impact Lucie made on my life,” he began. “It was awful after my mother left with Jack. That big, rambling house, dozens of empty rooms all silent as a tomb, and me the only sign of life in them. Everything seemed bleak and black. Then Lucie came along and suddenly there was light. Laughter. I loved to hear her giggle. I was fascinated by the lilt in her voice.”

He paused, caught up in the memory. “I remember the day I first brought Lucie into my father’s house. Her voice didn’t just echo through the halls. It resonated, like it belonged there. I knew then that her laughter, and that of our children, was meant to fill up the empty rooms of the house.”

“It’s okay, Rhys,” Trae said tightly. “You don’t have to…”

He held up a hand. “Let me finish. I made a commitment to her. To myself. We had a pact, nothing as formal as yours and your roommates’, maybe, but I made it clear that I’d always look out for her. That I’d always be there if she needed me.”

Trae sighed heavily. “Until death do you part.”

He felt compelled to explain. “I do love her, Trae. Maybe not with the wild, untamed passion you talk about, but it will suffice. In my own plodding way, I swear I’ll be a good husband to her.”

She looked away, her voice low and nearly inaudible. “What about her? After the way she ran out on you, aren’t you worried that she might not be the best wife?”

For the first time in his life, Rhys was speechless, Trae’s words hanging between them like an accusation. It struck him that he’d been so busy playing Lucie’s rescuer, he’d never stopped to consider if she could ever be the wife he needed. And after this past week with Trae…

Filled with a sudden longing, he fought the urge to reach out to her. He was a Paxton, he’d given his word and, ideal situation or not, he was honor bound to find some way to make this marriage work. “Right now, Lucie might be desperate for adventure,” he explained with a sigh, “but when all is said and done, she’ll expect me to be there. She needs me, Trae. I can’t turn my back on that.”

He didn’t know who he hoped to convince, her or himself. Trae nodded slowly. “I know,” she repeated softly as she leaned back against the window. “One last piece of advice, Paxton, and I swear you’ll never hear another word about it. If you want to be a good husband, then you’ll have to show Lucie she’s more important to you than your money, your business or
anything
else. That’s all any woman wants from her man. To know that she always comes first.”

Her words hovered between them in the ensuing silence. True to her word, Trae turned away in silence, curling up on the opposite cushions as if meaning to go to sleep.

Rhys tried to concentrate on the figures on the computer, but his gaze kept drifting to her. Amazing, how much pleasure he derived from just looking at Trae. How peaceful she seemed, yet sexy as hell at the same time. It took every last shred of his willpower not to go over there and take her in his arms.

He wished he were a different kind of man. He wished he could forget his promise, could ignore his obligations, could pretend that only he and Trae existed. But he wasn’t, and he couldn’t and that was the end of it.

Or it should be. The trouble was, ever since he’d hooked up with Trae, logic kept getting tangled up in emotion. She was right—Lucie deserved to know he loved her, but how was he supposed to show adoration when deep down he feared he’d never feel the kind of love Trae was talking about? All he could feel, all he knew, was this bone-deep longing for the wrong woman. Lucie might have brought light into his life, but Trae had filled it with color. One moment in her arms and he’d known more passion than he’d felt in all the years of loving Lucie.

And tomorrow, he’d relinquish it forever.

He slammed shut the laptop, knowing he’d never get anything done. He might have replaced the bike with the air-conditioned limo, but he was still in hell.

And it didn’t look like he’d be leaving anytime soon.

Staring at the bleary-eyed Bobby Boudreaux, squinting at them from inside his decrepit cabin, Trae felt too stunned to speak. All this time, she’d been gearing herself up for facing her friend, only to learn at the moment of truth that her confession would be delayed.

Rhys seemed likewise afflicted. Standing beside her on the rickety porch, he opened his mouth, then promptly shut it again when nothing came out.

Ironically enough, given the strength of his obvious hangover, only Bobby seemed capable of coherent speech. “Took off last night,” he mumbled, gesturing vaguely down the bayou. “And she ain’t comin’ back.”

“Did she say where she was going?” Rhys asked, recovering first.

“Try to think, Bobby,” Trae pleaded when he shrugged off the question. “You must have some idea where Lucie went.”

Bobby shook his head. “I’d be the last one she’d tell. She’s like a dream, you know? The harder you try to hold onto her, the more she slips away.”

Yeah, Trae thought. She’d been noticing that about her friend.

Bobby seemed lost in the past, his red-rimmed eyes seeing beyond the dreary cabin. “She damned near took my breath away, showing up like that in Los Angeles. I mean, how many guys get a second chance? Said she wanted to be an actress, hoped I could make her a star. I tried, but Lou keeps a tight clasp on his wallet. Lucie thinks I’ve been moping about losing my movie deal, but hell, I saw the writing on the wall. I knew once she saw I had nothing to offer, she’d take off without looking back.”

He held up a hand, clutching a rumpled piece of paper. “This is it, all I have left of her. Just this dumb note hoping we still can be friends. Friends,” he snorted. “All this time, and she still has no clue how much I love her.” He shook his head, sighing. “Then again, until she left, I really didn’t get it myself.”

He sounded so sad, so defeated, Trae had to resist the urge to reach out to him. He was right, though. He’d blown it, and wasn’t likely to get a third chance.

“The note,” Rhys said sharply, proving he had little time and even less patience to listen to anyone singing the blues. “Did it give any hint where she might have gone?”

Again, Bobby shook his head. “You know Lucie. That girl can rattle on forever without reaching any real point. Though she did get a call from Jo Kerrin. Maybe she went there.”

“Thanks for the suggestion,” Trae said, “but Jo promised to call the instant she heard from Lucie.”

Rhys thrust his new cell phone in her face. “You haven’t checked your messages this morning.”

No, she hadn’t. Taking the phone, she punched in the number. Hurrying through the five increasingly threatening calls from home, she hit pay dirt. “Lucie’s here,” Jo’s breathless voice told her. “And she’ll be staying overnight.”

Replaying the message for Rhys, she watched a grim determination take over his features. “Let’s go,” he announced, snapping the phone shut and turning back to the sleek powerboat he’d rented.

Trae hesitated, feeling a sudden strange kinship with Bobby, wishing there was something she could to do help the man feel better. But all that came to mind was the old adage about it being better to have loved and lost, and she just couldn’t see how that would provide comfort to him. Or herself, for that matter.

So all she could do was shrug and leave him standing alone in the door.

“Good luck finding Lucie,” Bobby called out. “And when you do, tell her I miss her like hell already.”

His words followed her through the bayou. Maybe she and Bobby had more in common than she’d thought. From the start, she’d known it couldn’t last with Rhys—at first she hadn’t wanted it to last—but somewhere between here and the Bahamas, she’d let herself grow accustomed to having the guy around. What was she supposed to do, come tomorrow, with no one to argue with, no one to ask for advice?

Watching Rhys maneuver the boat through the hauntingly beautiful swamp, she understood how poor Cinderella must have felt, approaching the midnight hour, knowing everything magical in her life was about to instantly vanish.

She’d never see him again, she realized. Certainly not like this, not like they’d been. It wouldn’t be fair to Lucie. It wouldn’t be fair to herself. Each time she faced him, each time she had to walk away, a little part of her would die inside.

Studying his profile, drinking him in, it was all Trae could do to stop herself from weeping.