A Devil in Disguise (13 page)

Then again,
came that voice inside her, brutal and unflinching,
do you?

The world seemed to tilt around her wildly, sickeningly, as if she’d found herself trapped on some carnival fun ride. She felt a terrible shame wash through her,
scalding her. She’d wanted her damaged, selfish mother to love her as she should have done. She’d wanted all of those stepfathers to love her like a daughter. She’d wanted Dominic to love her more than his addictions. And Cayo … He couldn’t love anything, could he? So she’d settled for making him
need
her instead. And she’d thought he valued her for that, if nothing else.

Was that what she’d wanted, in his office that day that seemed so long ago now? Had some part of her believed she would fling her resignation at him, still smarting from the printed email she’d found, and he would leap to his feet and declare his love for her?

Of course he hadn’t. No one ever had, and Cayo wouldn’t know how, even if he did feel the things she did. Her entire life was a great and complicated monument to deeply pathetic, sadly epic, and wholly unrequited love.

She was such a fool.

And he was watching her now, that unexpected laughter still on his face, making him more than simply beautiful in that hard, fierce way—making him handsome, too. Almost approachable.

It broke what was left of her heart.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his eyes still bright as they searched hers, sharpening as they saw whatever must have been there—the truth, she feared. The terrible truth she could never, ever let him know.

She didn’t know how she did it.

“I’m fine,” she managed to say. He frowned, no doubt at that shaky note in her voice that made her sound anything at all but
fine,
so she gestured at her mouth, and lied. “I’ve bit my tongue, that’s all.”

Time, it turned out, was the one thing Cayo couldn’t control.

It was the afternoon of her final day—which neither one of them had mentioned directly yet, though it hung there between them no matter how many times he’d taken her the night before, or this morning—and he could not bring himself to pay attention the conference call that she was participating in as his representative. He sat next to her at the small table in the office, his legs stretched out before him, and found he could do nothing at all but watch her as she spoke into the speaker phone in the center of the table.

“I’ll be certain to bring that to Mr. Vila’s attention,” she said, in that smooth and capable voice of hers that, now he knew what lay behind it, made him burn. “But in the meantime, I think we need to take another look at those figures before we jump to any conclusions.”

Maybe it was that he could see her, when the rest of the people on the call could not. No doubt they pictured the usual Dru, in her sleek suits and dangerous heels, her hair tamed and twisted out of view. But he saw the real Dru. Wild hair and that hint of color on her pale skin, the dusting of freckles across her nose and shoulders. Bare feet and a turquoise sarong wrapped around a hot pink bikini. Not in the least bit professional, not that anyone could have told that from her cool voice.

She was magnificent. She was his. And she was going to leave him.

He didn’t know what he was going to do about that, he only knew he couldn’t allow it. He wouldn’t.

But he also knew he’d run out of options.

She propped her head up with one hand as she listened to the call, the various executives talking over each other, all of them completely unaware that Cayo
was listening to them dither and bicker. He’d found that it could be highly educational to use Dru in this way, to make them think they were talking to someone far more approachable than Cayo ever was. He’d found it helped ferret out all manner of truths.

He wished the same could be said of Dru herself.

“Mr. Vila prefers to be offered potential solutions when presented with problems, Barney,” she said into the speaker. “I can certainly raise your concerns to him, but I suspect he’s going to give you a similar reply. Only he won’t be quite as polite.”

There was some laughter, and she glanced over to smile at him, her gray eyes sparkling nearly silver.
Real,
he thought with satisfaction. Not one of her work smiles she trotted out to placate or soothe him from time to time, all of which he’d come to hate. But even so, he knew she was still hiding from him. He didn’t know what, or why, but he could see the secrets in her eyes. Even now.

Perversely, it only made him want her more.

He’d told her that she was the only person he’d ever had any kind of close relationship with, and the stark truth of that haunted him. She was the only person alive that he had ever trusted. He had allowed her unparalleled access to all parts of his life. To him. No employee had ever been so entrenched in his personal life before and he had certainly never allowed one of his women anywhere near his business. Only Dru bridged those worlds. Only Dru.

And his time with her was almost up.

Giving in to an urge he hardly understood, as if it might ease the sudden heaviness in his chest, Cayo reached over and took her hand. Her eyes flew to his, but he concentrated on the slide of her fingers against
his. The way they fitted together so well, even here. He brought her hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of it. She curved her palm to better fit against his mouth, his jaw, as if she was holding him too, and something shifted inside him. A wall he hadn’t known was there tumbled down, and he knew, then, what he must do.

There was one way to keep her. One strategy he hadn’t tried. It would keep her close. With him. And so what if it wouldn’t be precisely as it had been? It was good enough. He might even like having her as his family, whatever that word really meant. She was the closest thing to it he’d ever known.

He just had to get her to say yes.

“The helicopter will be here in two hours,” Dru said the following morning, careful to sound calm. Matter-of-fact. “The plane will be ready to go once we get to Tahiti.”

Cayo stood at the end of the pier, with his back to her. He looked remote, forbidding and still, she wanted to lean into all of that broad strength, rest her head against his shoulder blade. She wanted to let the pure, male scent of him surround her. She wanted to soak in his heat like the sun. Her bare toes curled into the smooth, warm wood beneath her feet and she told herself she was fine. That she felt nothing but relief that it was all almost over, with only the long plane ride left to survive.
Perfectly fine.

They had woken up at dawn, wrapped around each other in Cayo’s huge bed. He had pulled her over him before she was wholly awake, sliding into her so smoothly she’d wondered whether it was real or a dream.
Or goodbye,
a harsher voice in her head had
suggested. She’d ignored it, leaned down to him and kissed him.

Slowly, they’d explored each other. Long, drugging kisses and endless touches, building a different kind of flame. One that burned long and sweet. One that danced and seduced and drew out the perfection of each caress. One that made them both sigh out their pleasure when it turned white-hot and wild all around them.

Dru felt the glowing embers of that same fire inside her, even now. She’d almost been afraid to track Cayo down after she’d confirmed their arrangements—as if she thought he could see straight through her to that place that would never stop burning for him. That place he could ignite with so little effort—a look, a touch. Would that ever fade? Would time without him dim it? Somehow, she doubted it.

“I suppose no one can stay in paradise forever, can they?” she asked brightly when he didn’t turn to face her, trying to make conversation—anything to cover her own nervousness. Anything to pretend it didn’t hurt.

“Don’t.” It was hard. Fierce.

“It’s so lovely here.” She felt helpless. Unable to stop. “But it’s not real, is it?”

He turned then, so dark and ruthless, dressed in no more than a pair of white loose trousers and still, so dangerous. She almost took a step back to keep him from looming over her, but she restrained herself. His eyes slammed into hers.

“But this is?” His accent was more pronounced than usual, and she felt it inside, like an echo. “Your deliberately inane chatter? Surely you know by now that it won’t work on me.”

That might have stung—it did—but Dru couldn’t let herself fall into that trap. There would be no fighting that led to kissing, no explosions of temper or passion or anything else. No shoes. No jumping from the pier. She wouldn’t let him sabotage her departure. More importantly, she wouldn’t let herself do the same.

“You are far too busy to spend any more time hiding away from the world,” she said, and that wasn’t idle conversation or flattery. It was the simple truth. He was who he was. “Even here.”

“As you pointed out to me only last night,” he said gruffly, “the point of hiring the best people in the world is occasionally to delegate responsibilities to them.”

“I did say that.” She smiled, but it felt hollow. He didn’t return it. And last night felt so far away now. As if it belonged to other people. “Cayo …”

She bit her lip and watched his dark amber eyes turn nearly black with a mixture of pain and passion, and her heart seemed to squeeze tight in her chest. If she started crying now, she worried she would never stop. She tried to shove that dangerous ache away.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” she whispered.

Still, he only stared back at her, as if he were hewn from stone. He looked powerful beyond measure, ruthless and fierce and she thought it might kill her to leave him. That thing inside her that had no pride, no respect, no boundaries whatsoever, might physically take her down as she tried to walk away. Her little masochist within, who wanted him and only him, however she could have him. Whatever that meant.

However much it hurt.

“It doesn’t have to be hard,” he said then.

His voice was low, and there was an intense light
deep in the dark of his gaze. He reached over and traced a lazy pattern just above the waistband of her linen trousers, where there was a gap between them and her top. She sucked in a breath, so attuned to him that even that faintest touch unleashed the fire in her, made her body ready itself for him, as if on command. When he looked at her again, there was gold in his eyes and the faintest curve on that cruel mouth of his.

“I think you should marry me,” he said.

The world stopped.

No breath. No sound. No air.

But somehow, she didn’t faint. She didn’t fall. She only stood there, staring back at him. “What did you just say?”

“Don’t play that game.” He took her chin in his hand, his gaze piercing into her, seeing far too much—and she couldn’t allow that. She wouldn’t survive it if he knew she loved him. Dru jerked her head back, and he let go, but not without reminding them both, wordlessly, that he’d allowed it.

“You can’t be serious,” she said, her breath, her voice—all of her ragged. Uneven. Trembling as if what he’d said was some kind of earthquake and she was still swaying in the aftermath.

“I have never been more serious in my life,” he grated out, his dark eyes flashing.

And this, she found, hurt worst of all. It was everything she’d ever wanted—more than she’d dreamed possible—but not like this. Never like this. Two weeks ago he’d tricked her onto that plane, claiming they were bound for Zurich. This was no different.

It just hurt more.

“No,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” It was the voice he used to do business,
to make deals. To convince whoever dared say no to him that they should change their answer—and they usually did.

Dru felt bruised. Battered. Torn apart by what she knew was the right thing to do, and that treacherous part of her that wanted him however she could get him. Why couldn’t she simply jump at this chance, her masochistic side wondered. He might learn to love her. Maybe he already did, in as much as he was able. And wasn’t
maybe
good enough?

But there was another voice in there now, a new one. Fragile and tiny, but hers.

“I deserve better,” she heard herself say.

The effect on Cayo was immediate and dramatic, though he didn’t seem to move. It was as if all that power, all that ferocity, was suddenly burning in his exotic eyes while the rest of him went terribly, alarmingly still. As if she’d wounded him beyond measure.

“?’Better’?” he echoed.

Dru’s hands shot out, as if to touch him, to hold him, but at the final moment she found she didn’t dare. Her throat was thick with grief, her chest hurt, and there was nothing she could do. She couldn’t make this better—and he was making it worse.

“I have a promise to keep to my brother,” she whispered. “Nothing is more important than that.”

Not even you,
she thought miserably, while everything inside her revolted.

“Marry me.” But it was less a command than a plea, wrapped up though it was in his ruthless delivery. “It’s the only solution.” When she only stared back at him through eyes that grew blurrier by the moment, he looked almost desperate. “I don’t know how to lose you,” he said, his voice near a whisper. “I can’t.”

“You’ll have to learn,” she managed to push out past the constriction in her throat.

“Dru—”

“I can’t settle, Cayo.” She threw that out, through the riot inside of her, through the tears that threatened. And it just kept hurting more. “Not even for you.”

“Dru.”

Even the way he said her name hurt. As if she was the one who’d mortally wounded him. He reached over and took her face in his hands, and that was when she noticed the tears wetting her cheeks, despite her best efforts.

But he didn’t love her. He didn’t even pretend. Not even now, to marry her. To keep her.
He didn’t love her.
So she could tear herself into pieces by leaving now, or she could stay with him and marry him and fall apart by degrees, year by loveless year, until she really did hate him the way she’d only wished she could two weeks ago.

“I am not the monster you think I am,” he said, soft and dark and straight into her heart, like a knife.