The Millionaire Meets His Match

“Yeah,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “It was. Until you showed up. I grew up in that landmark. That was my home. The home your company demolished eight months ago. And why did you do it? Because Duke Development needed a parking lot.”

“What? That’s not true.”

“Oh, yes, it is,” she said heatedly. “You bulldozed our beautiful homes and shops and replaced them all with an ugly block of concrete. You gave us thirty days’ notice, then you evicted us. You threw my grandmother and all of our neighbors out into the street. They were good people, good friends I’d known my entire life. And for what? For a slab of concrete! My grandma died of a broken heart and I hated you for that.”

“Wait a minute,” he said.

“No.” She gasped for air and realized that tears were streaming down her cheeks. She wiped them away angrily as she rounded the bed and pulled the rest of her clothes from the chest of drawers against the wall.

Adam followed her every step. “Wait a damn minute. I don’t do business that way.”

“Oh, really?” She looked up at him, saw confusion in his eyes and wished she could believe in it. Wished she could believe in him. But the facts were there. She’d lived the truth of how he did business. Maybe if she showed him that she had proof, he’d stop the ridiculous pretense of innocence.

She grabbed her purse, pulled out the Vista del Lago disk and thrust it at him. “You take a look at this, then talk to me again about how you do business.”

“What is this?” he demanded, holding up the disk.

She stared at the disk. “It-it’s something I was going to hand over to the newspapers.”

“Then why are giving it to me?”

She laughed sadly and wiped away more tears. “Because even though you hurt me ten times over, it turns out I could never hurt you. I wanted to, Adam. I really did. But I just can’t.” She zipped her suitcase closed and stood it upright, pulled out the handle, threw her purse over her shoulder and started to leave the suite.

“You’re not leaving,” he said. “I want to talk about this.”

“No more talk,” she said, her world crumbling with each step she took. She stopped at the door and shook her head in misery. “You don’t understand. I’ve betrayed my grandmother’s memory by becoming involved with you. I’ve let down my friends and neighbors, the people you ruined.” Her voice dropped another notch. “I can’t believe I fell in love with a man who could do that to anyone.”

His eyes were arctic blue as he stared at her in disbelief. “Do what?”

“That,” she whispered, pointing to the disk, then she grabbed her suitcase and walked out.

Eleven

Adam had never considered himself a coward but he’d been avoiding doing something for more than a week and it was starting to eat him up inside.

He stared at the CD on his desk. The one Trish had given him. He’d put off viewing it for so long now, he was beginning to feel like a damn fool.

At first he hadn’t wanted to look at it because he was just plain furious. At Trish, naturally. But also at himself for being sucked in by a woman who’d lied the entire time she’d been with him, then tried to blame him for her lies. He refused to accept that he’d been hurt by her betrayal. That was his mother’s brilliant theory, once she realized Trish had left. Adam had less than politely cut her off, tersely explaining that no, he’d just been righteously pissed off.

The night Trish walked out on him, the night of the Fantasy Mountain gala opening, Adam had barely managed to return to the party where he maintained a semblance of civility-until he was ready to crack.

Once he was back home in Dunsmuir Bay, he’d buried himself in his office and worked day and night on other projects, other resorts, other deals. He had a business to run and didn’t need some beautiful, treacherous woman running around distracting him. Even though every time he passed the desk where Trish usually sat, something inside him fisted in pain-that wasn’t the point.

He knew his mother was concerned about him, but he couldn’t deal with that right now. His brothers were another story. They’d made no bones about wanting to smack him out of this mood he was in, so they would occasionally show up at his house and drag him out for beers or otherwise try to cajole him into having some fun. One night, they showed up in his office with a twelve-pack and proceeded to berate him into easing up on the senior staff, some of whom had apparently been whining that Adam was taking out his problems on them.

Adam’s solution had been succinct. They could suck it up. That’s why they got paid the big bucks.

And besides, Adam wasn’t the one with problems.

Meanwhile, Marjorie had quietly replaced Trish with Ella, a perfectly competent older woman who’d been with the company for ten years. She did her job, but didn’t go out of her way to excel or make his life better. She didn’t make him laugh. She never ordered him a healthy dinner on the nights he worked late.

“Like tonight,” he grumbled, and reached for the phone to order a pizza. After three rings, he hung up the phone.

“Hell.” Maybe he should order something more healthy from that upscale place Trish had found. He hadn’t been sleeping well lately. Should he be eating more chicken? Or maybe a steak. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, but it wasn’t pizza.

The damnable woman had even managed to screw up his eating habits.

He shoved his chair back and stood by the window. Out on the bay, the full moon was reflected in the rippling water and the harbor lights twinkled in the distance. He swore under his breath.

It wasn’t food that he wanted. It was her. He wanted Trish. Wanted her soft curves pressed up against him. Wanted her exquisite lips and tongue on his skin. And okay, he even wanted her clever mind solving his problems.

There, he’d admitted it. Satisfied? He slapped his hand against the wall of glass, then blew out a heavy breath. No, he wasn’t satisfied.

Damn her for making him want.

He turned around and once again stared at the disk lying on the desk next to his laptop. He hadn’t viewed it yet and he wasn’t sure if he ever would. Why should he? She’s the one who’d lied to him. So why should he believe anything he might see on that disk?

And speaking of lies, why should he believe she’d meant it when she told him she loved him?

Disgusted with his line of thought, Adam swept a piece of scrap paper off his desk and into the trash can. No, Trish didn’t love him. No way. How could she love him and lie to him at the same time? Simple. She didn’t love him, never had. Not that any of it mattered, he told himself. He didn’t do love. Remember? Oh sure, he had cared for her. A lot. A small, pitiful part of him probably always would. But caring for someone wasn’t the same as loving her.

And hell, it was a damn good thing he didn’t love her because her betrayal would’ve hit him even harder than it already had. Not that he’d taken it that hard. It’s just that, it could’ve been worse.

He eyed the disk again. Maybe he should throw the damn thing away. Or maybe he should return it to Trish. But he didn’t know where she lived. Hell, he’d been sleeping with her and he didn’t even have her address. He’d never picked her up for a date, never dropped her off, never kissed her good-night in front of her house. Didn’t matter now.

He could probably get her address from Marjorie, although she’d been pretty annoyed with him lately. Still, he was the boss. He could get anything he wanted. Of course, even if he got Trish’s address, it’s not as if he’d go running after her.

“Oh, man,” Adam muttered, spearing his fingers through his hair in exasperation. Knowing he wouldn’t be getting any work done in his current state of aggravation, he shut down his laptop and left the office for the night.

That weekend, Sally Duke insisted that Adam come over for a special afternoon party she was throwing. He arrived an hour late to find the back patio deserted. When he walked into the kitchen, the only people he saw were his two brothers. Brandon stood at the stove, stirring and tasting Mom’s homemade barbecue sauce.

Adam put the six-pack of beer and a bottle of white wine for his mother into the refrigerator. “Where’s Mom?”

“She’ll be out in a few,” Cameron said.

Adam took a beer out and popped it open, then glanced around. “Anyone else show up yet?”