Chapter 7

He listened to the message again. He had seen the call coming in and ignored it, letting it go to voicemail. He had also played it while in his car on the way home.

"Darling, I have been trying to get you to listen to me without success. I know you think you hate me, but I cannot believe that's true. I had to do what I did because of your mother. Ask her what she did, Rylan. Get her to tell you why I turned you away that day."

The message had ended then, and she had called back and left another.

"I did it because I thought I had no choice in the matter and have suffered since. I know it will take a lot for you to believe me, but I will do anything. I just want you to talk to me."

The message ended again, and she did not call back.

Now, he was on his balcony with a full bottle of scotch on the table, and he had played the messages again, listening to the sound of her sultry voice. His mother! What did she have to do with anything?

And yes, he had every intention of calling or confronting her. But the fact remained that Celeste had ended things with him and had done it in such a way that had caused him so much pain. Picking out a slim cigar from the pack, he lit it and inhaled the tobacco.

He had started smoking after she left. Smoking and drinking and had just stopped short of using drugs to dull the pain. Somehow, something had stopped him from going down that road.

Lunging to his feet, he went to lean over the balcony, watching the fireflies flickering along, their tiny lights piercing the semidarkness. When she was inside his office, it had taken all his control not to take her to his desk. He had wanted to so badly that it had felt like an aching wound that would not be healed.

It was natural to want her - to want to feel those slender curves next to you. Celeste was a beautiful woman. She had been a very pretty teenager, but surprisingly, she had never flaunted her beauty. He had been impressed with her because she befriended the less popular kids in school.

She would be seen talking to the geeks and nerds, chatting and laughing with them. She was a scholarship kid, and usually, the rigid members who had their parent"s money to ease them along would make sure to avoid someone that, to them, did not belong.

But not Celeste. Her very presence demanded that she be noticed, and it was not just her beauty but also her personality. She was confident and mature for her age, and she was not afraid to speak her mind. In no time, she had won over the popular kids and edged them out to become the most popular girl in the school.

She had done that, not by being mean and cruel to others but by doing quite the opposite. Rylan had noticed her immediately, but she was too young for him. He was a senior and on his way out at the time, but something about her had drawn him, and he had been unable to stay away from her.

Puffing on the cigar, he squinted at the smoke spiraling upward. There was something he had to acknowledge to himself. What was between them was incomplete. Making love to her at the club had not accomplished what he expected.

It had done the exact opposite. Making love to her had just proven to him that he still desired her. He still wanted to feel her slender curves against his.

He was still hungry for her. Even after all these years and what she had done to him, the need for her was so great that he was tempted to call her up and invite her over.

And then what? What about Madeline? He had not been with her since he got back from the club. He promised to have dinner with her tomorrow and would have to keep that promise.

But was it fair to her? he wondered. Moving away from the railing, he crushed out the cigar and poured the scotch into the glass.

She occupied his thoughts and interfered with his sleep pattern. He would wake up in cold sweat, his body shivering and hard as a rock. Tossing back the drink, he poured another. Grabbing the bottle, he took it into the study to try and get some work done.

*****

The restaurant was too noisy, and the wine was not chilled enough. He had already sent the poor Maitre D scurrying back to the kitchen twice, and he was still not satisfied.

"We should have insisted on a better table." He was already into his third glass of Cabernet and could feel his head swimming slightly.

"The table is perfect," Madeline said patiently, trying to curb her annoyance at his impatience and the frown settling on his forehead. "We are far from everyone else, and it is quiet."

He looked at her then and shook his head. "I am being a prick."

"And I wonder if it has anything to do with the ambiance or the bottle of excellent wine."

"No." He admitted. Pushing away the wine, he reached for the glass of water.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked lightly, even though she had a very good idea of what was bothering him.

"Not particularly," he told her with a harsh laugh.

"Shall I hazard an educated guess?" She prodded.

"Look, it's a complicated situation-"

"That has to do with a certain model who returned home." She looked him squarely in the eyes. "I hope you give me the respect, not to lie to me."

"I don't lie." He muttered.

"You still have feelings for her."

He was about to deny it but thought better. "Yes."

"I see." Madeline had seen this coming. Since he rudely ignored her at that function and refused to talk about it, she had known that something was wrong. He had told her a little of what had happened in the past but had not expounded, and she had let it go because she knew he had not wanted to talk about it. "What now?"

"Nothing." He bit out, hating the trend this was taking.

"Are you going back to her?"

He lifted his head and stared at her before picking up the wine. "No."

"You don't sound too sure."

"No. The hurt and pain was too much."

"And it still is. Have you spoken to her?"

"Why the hell should I do that?" He was being irrationally angry with the wrong person, and he knew it. "Let's just enjoy the meal and talk about something else." He forced a smile. "How is the project going? Were you able to find the amount of donors you were hoping for? If not, we could write a check for the shortfall-"

"We are fine," she told him abruptly. "And I would like to talk about what is going on with you."

"That's not going to happen." His tone was implacable, his expression warning her that it would be a mistake to prolong that particular topic.

"Rylan-"

"No." His voice was deceptively quiet but did not fool her one bit. "I want to enjoy the remainder of the evening without you trying to dissect my thoughts. Can we do that?"

She bit back the remark she was about to make and cursed herself for being so timid. She knew all along that she would never have his heart, but she had accepted it because she wanted him.

She knew he would never love her because he had told her that particular emotion was a waste of feeling, and he had no intention of going down that road again.

But ever since that model came back into town, things had started to slide steadily downhill, and she had no idea what to do about it.

Picking up her wine glass, she took a sip to steady herself and searched for a safe topic to try and salvage the rest of the evening.

*****

He decided that it was time to get it out in the open. He had spent two nights stewing on it, and his initial decision to just ignore it, ignore her message, was not going down well. He was still haunted by the words and curious to hear what his mother had to say.

"I will be in my mother's office." He told his assistant. "Forward only the important calls to me."

Making his way along the passageway, he bypassed the reception area and pushed the doors of the office his mother occupied open to see her seated behind her desk and on the phone.

She had willingly vacated the larger office when he joined the company and took a smaller one. And she had also vacated her role as CEO of the company as soon as she realized he was ready to take it on.

Now, she was in charge of several other areas, including the many charities the company was involved with. Her role was undetermined, and she had laughingly told him she fit wherever she needed to be.

He never truly appreciated how much she had done to keep the company running after her husband had died from a brain aneurysm.

Looking up from the notes she was jotting down, she held up a finger for him to wait and continued to talk on the phone.

"Yes, of course. We will look into it as soon as possible."

Blocking out the conversation, Rylan went to pour himself a cup of coffee and wandered over to sit on the sofa facing her desk; the cup cradled between his hands.

"That was Amy from the PR department." Michelle stared at him in concern, noticing the haggard look on his face. "Is something wrong?"

"You tell me." Putting the cup down, he rose and wandered over to the window. "Celeste has been trying to talk to me since she returned to town, and I have been avoiding her. She left two messages on my phone asking you what went down that day.

She told me to get the hell out of her life." He turned to face her. "I would like to hear what you have to say."

Michelle had resigned herself to finally facing up to what she did and had been trying to find a way to explain it to him without looking like a monster. And the time was here.

"I love you."

He inclined his head. "I do not doubt that you do."

"I had lost my husband two years before and was in danger of losing my son." Her hands were clasped tightly on top of the desk. "I found out that you were planning to elope, and I could not have that."

"What did you do?" His voice was dangerously soft and sent shivers along her spine.

"I did what I had to do." Her lips trembled, and she had to take several breaths. "I had to protect you-"

"From a tiny slip of a girl? What did you do? How did you protect me from her?"

Michelle firmed her lips before continuing. "I told her I would take back the scholarship from her brother."

He went cold at that, his body going rigid. "You did what?"

"I had to do something." She said tightly. "You were planning on blowing up your future by getting married at the tender age of eighteen. You wanted to forego college and put your career and legacy on the line-"

"And you ended up destroying my life! How could you?"

"I wanted what was best for you! I am a mother, and my child - you were planning on doing something that would have irrevocably changed your life. And I did not have to persuade her that much. She was bent on having a career as a model."

He stared incredulously at her. "Is that your justification? She wanted a career. Did you tell her what to write in that damnable letter as well? Or was that all on her?""I told her to make it convincing."

Rylan felt as if he was in some sort of time loop. He had spent years trying to come to grips with the fact that the girl he had given his heart and soul to had dumped him for her career when he could have given her the world. Now, to realize that they had both manipulated him and gone behind his back to destroy his life was unbearable.

"I want you to understand-"

"Don't!" He was so angry that he would say something he would regret if he did not leave right now. "Not another word, mother. I need time to think, to sort through this damn mess. And while doing that, I want you to stay away from me. Is that clear?"

"I did it-"

"It doesn"t matter why you did it. It matters that you did, and I spent years trying to recover." His green eyes flashed.

"You looked me in the eyes and told me that Celeste was ambitious and an opportunist and that I was better off knowing that at the time. You convinced me she never wanted me in the first place and was only after my money, and I believed it!"

Dragging his fingers through his hair, he took a fortifying breath. "You both ruined my life, and for what?" Without another word, he strode out of the room and slammed the doors shut behind him.

Michelle slumped back against the chair and closed her eyes briefly. The look on his face would be etched on her mind for a very long time. He was hurting all over again, and she could not bear it. Damn that woman for coming back. Why the hell had she not stayed away from him?

*****

He had wanted to cancel his date with Madeline but figured he owed her and had to make up for their lousy dinner date two nights ago. But he was not looking forward to mingling with people from their society.

Not to mention the fact that Jackson Colby had called and reminded him that he promised to be there tonight; it was a charitable event that was in collaboration with Jackson and Jason Colby and Braithwaite's Shipping, and he had to be there and had to make an appearance at least.

He was stewing, almost boiling over, and the rage inside him threatened to boil over. He had not returned her call, and she had the good sense not to call him back. He wanted to wring her neck. Who gave them the damn right to decide for him?

Or was his mother right? Had Celeste chosen her career over him? That was the question that was haunting him. She was going to say otherwise, but how can he believe her? She had gone on to become a top model, racking up a lot of magazine covers.

Her face was splashed on billboards all over the world. There was one that had etched itself in his mind. Where she was riding a horse, her curls streaming behind her, the thin white negligee sliding off her shoulders, giving an enticing peek of her breasts. And she had been laughing at the guy chasing her, the guy she had shacked up with.

Shaking his head and trying to get rid of the image, he went to get his jacket. He would deal with her when he calmed down somewhat. Right now, he could not face her.

*****

She knew he was going to be here because she had checked. His company was collaborating with the Colbys to put on this extravagant charitable event. She had almost asked Colin to accompany her so she would not look so conspicuous.

Rylan had not returned her calls, and she wondered if he had hashed things out with his mother. She had almost given in to the temptation of calling him again and decided against it.

He probably needed time to sort things out, and she was hoping desperately that he would see things her way, that he would see that at the time, she believed she was doing the right thing and did not have a choice.

That she had not chosen the glamor of being a model over him, that she loved him then and loves him now. That he would not be so damn stubborn that he would not go ahead with the marriage to that woman.

She could not allow that; she could not bear the thought that he was with her. After what they shared at the club, could he have returned to her that way? She did not want to think about it.

Releasing her leather jacket to the coat check girl, she adjusted the skirt of the bronze dress she had decided to wear. It was a little out there, but she had no problem showing her skin.

The dress was a Romano's original with thin straps crisscrossing at the back, with folds at the bosom that showed a peek of her breasts and the fact that she was not wearing a bra. Her hair was smoothed back with gel and secured neatly with pins at the nape of her neck.

Large hoops were at her lobes, and hammered gold bracelets were on her upper arms.

Rylan knew the minute she made her appearance. It was as if the very air was crackling with electricity, and if that was not enough, he saw when eyes turned toward her. Steeling himself to look, he felt the familiar jolt to his system as he stared at her.

Her skirt was too damn short, but he had to admire the well-toned golden legs she had no difficulty showing to the entire room. A room jam-packed with patrons of the arts. He glowered as he noticed the admiring gazes and the whistles of appreciation. Plucking a glass of champagne from the passing waiter, he took a gulp and almost choked.

"This piece." Celeste tried to ignore the man a few feet from her. "I love it."

"Do you think it would look good in your living room?" Jason asked, his blue eyes twinkling. "I cannot believe you have been back for three weeks, and I am now just seeing you."

"I have been busy." She smiled at him. "How is married life treating you?"

"We are still on our honeymoon, even now." He grinned at her, admiring her flawless skin and exquisite beauty.

"Where is your lovely wife?"

"Working."

"Ah. A woman who still works even though she is married to a billionaire."

"One has to admire that." He said dryly.

"About the piece-"

"I-" He looked over her shoulder, his smile widening. "I think we are going to be interrupted."

"Who-" Her heart did a swift dive when she noticed the man coming towards them, his stride purposeful.

"I think I should make myself scarce."

Before she could stop him, he had already left. Using her champagne as a shield, she turned to face Rylan.

"Hi."

"We should talk," he told her coldly.

"Yes, of course. Here?"

"In privacy."

"Where?"

"My apartment comes to mind, but I am not certain I want you there."

She bristled at that. "Fine. My place then."

"Too public." His eyes raked her from head to toe. "It would not do to have the press salivating over the fact that I am visiting you."

"Then where?"

"There is a place. I will text you the address." His contemptuous gaze swept over her. "I suppose it's natural for someone like you to be dressed in practically nothing."

"Someone like me?"

"A woman who walks around practically naked for a living. Does it make you feel powerful to have men lusting after you?"

His cruelty took her breath away and had her wishing for the sweet and adoring Rylan she had fallen in love with.

"I don't care what people think when they look at me. I dress to please myself, and there is nothing wrong with what I am wearing."

"If you say so." With a sneer curling his lips, he turned and walked away. Draining the rest of the champagne, she went to find her friends.