B00Z637D2Y (R) (22 page)

“That didn’t count,” he said as she snuggled in beside him.

“Why not?”

He pulled her even closer and whispered in her ear, “I already knew that.”

…

Michael sat in a white wooden folding chair waiting for the photographer to finish the post-wedding shots. It had been a surprisingly enjoyable and mercifully short ceremony held outdoors behind the bed and breakfast, with heartfelt vows the bride and groom had written themselves. He liked that idea—creating personal vows. Not that he’d ever put any thought into it before. But he was thinking about it now, as he watched the woman who had driven him wild all night, and again this morning, pose for pictures in a dress the color of her eyes, which fit her perfectly and made him glad to be alive. Thank you, Sue, for the first beautiful bridesmaid dress he’d ever seen. Maybe it was just the woman in it. And she’d said she loved him.
Amazing.

He thought of Will and how he and Claire would be getting married in the near future. Had his brother felt like this—almost giddy and absolutely ridiculous? Like there was nothing he couldn’t do.

Across the lawn, Mia laughed at something Mark had said, and Michael found himself smiling. He smiled a lot now. She’d changed him. And soon, he’d tell her that—right after he got her alone and removed her lacy purple panties with his teeth.

Grinning, he tipped his head back and enjoyed the sunshine on his face. He needed to get out in the sun more often. He’d actually begun to enjoy his walks with Clancy during work hours. It was good to get away from the office every now and then. Maybe he’d schedule a picnic with Mia that week after they got back. Yes. Definitely. She’d like that.

Gravel crunched, and he opened his eyes as car pulled up on the road. The window cracked open and Michael stiffened. He’d recognize paparazzi anywhere.

Fuck.

Mark and Sue were just normal people having a small, family wedding. No way would they draw the tabloids. He’d told no one except his brothers where he was going. And he certainly wasn’t a big enough fish in their papers’ ratings for them to simply trail him around. Someone gave them some info that interested them.

His gaze flitted to the party posing for yet another wedding photo. As if she could feel his stare, Mia looked over and winked.

Another car, an SUV this time, pulled up behind the first car and a man got out, long range lens in hand.

Goddammit.

“Hey, Mike,” Jason said, slipping into the chair beside him.

The man with the long-range lens lifted his camera and Michael jumped to his feet, immediately striding straight to the back of the house where he was blocked from view by the corner of the porch.

What the fuck is going on here?

“Are you okay?”

He spun to find Kelli in a chair on the other end of the porch, eyes puffy from a probable tear-filled night.

“Someone called the tabloids.”

She crossed her legs and relaxed back against the wicker. “That would be Jason. I heard him make the call yesterday after you left the pub. Told them you were going to announce a business deal.”

“The deal he tried to pitch me at dinner, I suppose.”

“That would be the one. He has delusions of grandeur. Told me you guys would be partners before the weekend was out.”

“I’m going to fucking kill him.”

“Take a number.”

Honestly, as drunk as he’d been last night, it was hard to believe the bastard was up and running so early in the day, much less feeling good enough to pose for pictures for the paparazzi. No way in hell would Michael allow himself to be linked to that snake in any way. And he certainly didn’t want Mia involved.

His number one priority was to keep her out of the papers. He and Mia were at a fragile point in their relationship. He was trying to prove how much she meant to him, and being lumped in with the other women the paparazzi had snapped him with, who meant nothing at all, would damage her emotionally, and possibly professionally, depending on the mindset of her employer. Nobody liked to be called the kind of things she’d be called if linked with him. One of his first orders of business when he got back to the city would be to meet with his PR company to begin planning a transition. The playboy was about to become a one-woman man.

When he looked around the corner, a third car had joined the other two and the guy with the long range lens and a woman carrying a camera bag were striding down the fence line behind the house. He had to get inside out of view until he could come up with a strategy, and he needed to get word to Mia to keep her head down and avoid him until he could get them away from here.

“Kelli, could you please deliver a message to Mia for me?”

“Sure. Just don’t ask me to deliver any messages to Jason, unless it’s to tell him to fuck off.”

“You can do that for me, too, if so inclined.”

She gave him a half-hearted smile “What’s your message?”

“Please tell Mia I’m inside when she’s done with pictures. Tell her not to talk to any of the reporters, but if asked, deny we are here together.”

Her red eyebrows drew together. “Maybe that ‘fuck off’ I was going to deliver to Jason should go to you as well.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw one of the photographers point to him. There was no time for explanations now. “Please, just give her that message.” He entered the structure through the back door, which opened into a sunroom.

He dialed Jacob and asked him to come get him ASAP, then he called his brothers to initiate damage control in case anyone asked about a business deal with Jason Tipton.

The best way to handle this would be to take it head on and go talk to the photographers. All he needed to do was put out any rumors linking him with Jason and throw them off Mia’s scent until he could gradually work her in publicly so she didn’t get caught in the blowback from his playboy reputation.

“Why’d you take off so fast?” Jason asked, striding into the sunroom.

“I don’t want to be in a picture with you.”

His clothes were only slightly wrinkled, probably from poor packing, but his eyes were bloodshot and his lids swollen, and Michael expected that he was sporting a hellacious headache. At least he hoped so.

Jason threw his arms out in the perfect picture of innocence. “What picture?”

“You called the tabloids with the promise of news of a new business venture.”

“Oh, yeah. Well, let’s talk about that because I—”

Michael crossed the room in three strides and grabbed Jason’s collar. “Let’s get this straight here and now. The only thing I’d participate in with you is a fistfight. Are we clear?”

Jason held his hands up in surrender. “Uh…yeah.”

“And if you perpetuate this rumor, I’ll add a lawsuit to it as well.”

“Gotcha. Please let go.”

From the corner of his eye, Michael saw the camera in the window, followed by the unmistakable sound of a shutter snapping. He released Jason with a hard shove, rather than the punch he was itching to throw. “You’ve done your damnedest to destroy your friends’ wedding and you hurt a damned fine woman. Two of them, actually. Disappear to your room now, and don’t come out until Mia and I have left.”

Without hesitation, Jason scurried from the room. Michael was relieved he had that much sense.

After collecting his and Mia’s things, Michael paced the lobby with Clancy, feeling like a caged animal. His carefully crafted reputation had caught up with him, and Mia was going to get hurt in the blowback. The tabloids would call her all kinds of things. Unkind, untrue things. And to make it worse, with her self-deprecating tendencies, she might believe what they print: that she was just another in a long string of Anderson’s women.

But she wasn’t. She was his
only
woman. The only one he’d ever really wanted.

He could fix this. He could control it.

Once Jacob arrived with the limo, he would have Mia run to where it waited in the front, while he spoke with the reporters in the back. He could get her out of there safe and sound.

“I just don’t want the press to make this thing between me and Mia into something it’s not,” he told Clancy.

“And exactly what would that be, Michael?”

He spun to find Mia in the door from the sunroom, gorgeous in her cinnamon gown. The expression on her face wasn’t gorgeous, though. Her lips were drawn tight and she was pale—haunted. And Michael realized at that moment not only had he lost control of the situation, he may have just lost Mia as well.

…

Stunned, Mia replayed Michael’s words in her head.
“I just don’t want the press to make this thing between me and Mia into something it’s not.”

He didn’t want them to link him to her. To hurt his playboy reputation. When Kelli had delivered his message about denying they were there together, she thought that surely there had been some mistake. Obviously not. He could tell a dog the truth, but not her.

The walls seemed to close in as gooseflesh crept across her skin. He was just like Jason and her other lovers after all— embarrassed by her. She wasn’t enough.

Nausea flooded her belly and she covered her mouth. He’d had her, and now he was done and didn’t want the press to pick up on the relationship.

The entire time they had spent together had been nothing but an elaborate game to him. He had negotiated brilliantly and fooled her completely. Mighty Michael Anderson had closed another deal.

“Never mind,” she said holding up a hand when he opened his mouth to speak. “Don’t answer my question. I know the answer.”

He dropped Clancy’s leash and took several steps closer. “I don’t think you do.”

She eyed the luggage. Evidently, he wasn’t even willing to hang with her one more night. He was ending the bargain early. “I thought we were staying until tomorrow.”

When he swallowed hard and blinked rapidly, he confirmed her worst fears. How had she read him so wrong? He’d gotten what he wanted and was leaving.

Never again
, she’d promised herself, and yet here she was…again. This time, it wouldn’t be her who got dumped. She’d beat him to it.

“Jason called the paparazzi,” he said, finally.

Way to state the obvious.
Now to get him to state something even more obvious. “Kelli delivered your message. You don’t want them to know we—”

“We can’t be photographed together. The timing isn’t right,” he said, cutting her off, then checking his watch.

“Of course it isn’t.”

“What does that mean?”

“Will the timing ever be right? When will it ever not interfere with your plans and schedules? With your crafted image of the hotshot playboy? I don’t even know who you really are,” she said, amazed at her stupidity. “Which mask are you going to choose, Michael? You need to pick one, because juggling them both is impossible.”

“You know exactly who I am. My God, Mia, you said you loved me.” The hurt look on his face seemed so real. So genuine.

And despite what her head said, her heart softened a bit. “You can’t have it both ways. You’re either the fun, funny guy I fell in love with who happens to have a successful business, or you’re the stuffy control freak who will only be seen in the right places with the right people for the right reasons—which, if you ask me, just isn’t right. What’s it going to be, Michael?

“You don’t understand. It’s not that simple.”

“Yes it is. Because
I’m
that simple. Your two realities don’t intersect, and I only fit into one of them.”

“We can’t be together in photos right now. They’ll tear you up, Mia. I know these people. I know what they’ll do to you and your reputation. Maybe even your job.”

Or
his
job. The spot on her heart that had momentarily softened glazed over with a hard shell. There was no doubt in her mind she had not misunderstood him like she had last night—hell, even that had been an act, she realized as she stared at his perfectly beautiful lying face. He sounded sincere, and the sentiment that he was doing it for her was nice, but why would she care if the papers put up a picture of them together? The truth was easy to see: he didn’t want to be seen with her, and that was unacceptable.

Forcing herself to affect a calm she didn’t feel, she took a deep breath. “You never answered me when I asked you what it was you
really
wanted. Now, I know. Your business and your image are more important to you than anyone or anything else. Your desire to control is even stronger than your need to be loved. I feel sorry for you.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t even appear to breathe. “So you’re not coming with me.”

“No. I’m here for my best friend’s wedding. I don’t give a shit what the paparazzi thinks or says. I’ve said this to you before, but I want to share it with you again.” She could hear her broken heart beating in her ears. “Sometimes you do things because you love someone. Even if they are things that make you look silly, or less powerful, or less attractive.” She yanked the scarf from the handle of her suitcase and wrapped it around her neck. “Or unattractive—I think your word was ‘ghastly’.”

By the devastated look on his face, she could tell he knew they were done. But she needed to make sure he knew it with certainty. He’d closed the deal to his satisfaction, and now she’d close it to hers.

“Please hear me out,” he said.

“No. I heard you out. I hear you loud and clear. Through your actions, your words, and messages sent through friends. Now you hear
me
out.” The frustrated look on his face reminded her of the one Jason used to get when he lied. This time, she wasn’t going to be played the fool. “You asked me something last night and told me not to answer you right then. You told me to think about it. Well, I’ve thought about it and I have an answer for you, Michael.”

She grabbed the ends of the scarf in her fists. “No! The answer is, no. I will not move in with you. And, no, I will not be seeing you again. You’ve made a choice: you chose control and image. And I hope it was a good one for you, because it is really shitty decision making as far as I can tell.”