Rub It In (16 page)

Her choices were to have Simon and lose her job—a huge chunk of her identity—or to lose Simon and keep her job. She respected herself and her business abilities and refused to sacrifice a job she enjoyed and was good at. Especially for a relationship that wasn’t a sure thing.

Who knew if Simon would even be interested in picking up where they’d left off? Not once had he given her any indication that he wanted more than the short time she had left on the island.

All of these arguments and insecurities combined to keep her tied to her job in New York, despite feeling unhappy and dissatisfied.

A few weeks turned into three months and as winter set in with a vengeance, she couldn’t help but miss the welcoming heat of the island. Before she realized what she was doing, Marcy found herself searching websites hoping to find another Caribbean resort in need of a general manager.

When had her idea of the perfect life changed so much?

She knew the answer to that, but couldn’t bring herself to admit it.

16

T
HE
SECOND
S
IMON
WALKED
out of La Guardia he missed his island. Not only was New York cold as hell, it was also crowded, dirty, loud and almost made him claustrophobic.

However, the fact that his heart was pounding hard in his chest had nothing to do with this new aversion to crushing crowds and everything to do with the fear that Marcy wouldn’t show up.

He was in town for the last stop of a whirlwind book tour. He’d started in L.A., continued through Chicago, Dallas and Atlanta. Being in a different city every day was wearing on him big-time.

But it was almost over. In a couple more days he’d be back home, on the soft sand beaches of his island. It was hard not to hope that Marcy would be standing there with him, but he just didn’t know. It had been three months since she’d walked away. He hoped a little space might have given her enough time to forgive him. Or at least made her willing to listen as he groveled and begged her to come back.

Of course, that assumed she’d actually accept the invitation to attend his book signing. He’d had a copy of the book hand delivered by courier two weeks earlier, so he knew she’d received it, the information about the signing and his handwritten note asking her to come.

If she didn’t, that would tell him everything he needed to know. Which, if he was honest, just meant he’d have to hustle up her home address and track her down there. He wanted her to come to him on her own terms because that’s what she deserved. But, at the very least, he wouldn’t leave the city without apologizing to her and telling her that he loved her and wanted her in his life. On whatever terms she dictated.

A car deposited him in front of the bookstore. The crowd that waited for him no longer surprised him. Apparently the rumors from several years ago had done nothing but increase his notoriety. Thanks to his fading from the spotlight and recent reclusive tendencies, his first appearance in years had become something of a media frenzy—at least, that was his agent’s take on things. Personally, he just figured this tour had coincided with a slow media week. Everywhere.

He’d always been successful—enough to buy a Caribbean island, for heaven’s sake—but this was more attention than he’d ever had before.

His publisher was certainly happy, and he knew the marketing team had been quick to spin the story to the best advantage. He didn’t care. Whatever sold books.

He just hoped the crush of people didn’t deter Marcy. His eyes scanned the group staring back at him. It took him less than thirty seconds to realize she wasn’t there. Even with her short stature, he would have known.

Trying to hide a frown, Simon sat down at the table the store had set up. Stacks of books sat on either side of him. But he’d agreed to a short reading followed by a question-and-answer session before he started signing books. And after four of these things, he already knew what everyone was going to ask him.

And he wasn’t wrong.

Eventually they’d get around to their curiosity about his career, this book. Some hard-core fan would probably even ask about the rumors and scandal from three years ago.

But first, they all wanted to know “Who’s Marcy?”

“Is she with you?”

“Where did you meet?”

Yeah, the dedication he’d written had gotten even more fan attention than his past, his secrecy and the book itself combined. He tried not to let that bother him, considering he’d also written the dedication. Although that hadn’t been for them, but for her.

Who would have guessed people would care so much?

He was about to give the standard answer he’d developed after being blindsided by these same questions in L.A.

But the words died on his lips when someone in the back shifted and he saw her standing there. Her blond hair was pulled back into the same tight ponytail she’d always worn before their precious two weeks. Her cheeks were pink from the cold. A scarf was wrapped around her neck, the ends tucked beneath the heavy folds of her winter coat.

She was thinner, the bones of her face pushing slightly against her taut, chilly skin. She stared at him, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. He wanted to reach out to her, but a crowd of people stood between them.

Her eyes were hesitant. They watched him almost warily, as if she was ready to sprint away at the first sign of…something. Her mouth stayed straight, unsmiling, although she did raise a single hand in a sort of pseudo wave.

The crowd began to turn to see what had caught his attention and struck him mute. First one, then five and before he knew it hundreds of heads had swiveled to focus on Marcy. He hadn’t thought her skin could get any pinker—but he’d been wrong.

But she didn’t back down, not his Marcy. Instead, she stared at them all, raising a single eyebrow and daring them to say anything to her. Jeez, she was something to watch.

Clearing his throat, he stood and gestured for her to come up with him. She shook her head. Simon narrowed his eyes and, with nothing more than a cock of his head, challenged her. They didn’t need words for him to tell her that she had two choices—come up with him or be mobbed by the crowd between them when he finally opened his mouth and told them who she was.

She might not have fully understood, but she got enough of the gist that she began pushing through the people, trying to find the path of least resistance. Which wasn’t hard, considering that they all parted to let her pass.

Everyone in the room realized there was an undercurrent flowing between them, and they all wanted front-row seats to watch it play out.

Marcy halted in front of him. He tried to reach across the table and draw her around to his side, but she sidestepped out of range. His heart did a little stutter. He had to admit the minute he’d seen her standing back there, he’d assumed everything was going to be okay. Why else would she be there?

Especially if she’d read the dedication.

But maybe she just wanted to hear the words. Wanted him to grovel in person.

And he was willing to do that. With an audience, no less.

Marcy was worth it.

Shrugging, he turned to the crowd and said, “This is Marcy.”

The deafening roar that went up nearly shattered his eardrums.

The crowd surged forward. Panic and surprise shot across Marcy’s face. Several people from the store and Simon’s team jumped in front of Marcy to protect her from the people now yelling questions at her.

In the confusion, he reached around, grasped her beneath the arms and bodily pulled her to the other side of the table with him. At least it offered a little barrier.

He wrapped her in his arms, pressing her against him. Everything came flooding back, overwhelming him. He’d forgotten how fragile and perfect she was, and how unbelievably arousing it felt to have her in his arms. The scent of lavender washed over him and he drew a heavy breath just so he could hold it inside him again.

She didn’t fight him, but melted against him as she always had.

“What just happened?” She looked up at him with dazed eyes. He wanted to crush his mouth to hers, but realized it probably wasn’t the right time.

But it was touch and go there for a minute. Three months had never felt so long in his entire life.

“You started a moment of hysteria.”

She blinked slowly. “How did I do that?”

“Just by being you.”

She nodded as if she understood, but he could still see the confusion in her eyes. “That makes no sense.”

He shrugged. “What can I say? They like the dedication.”

Her bright blue eyes stared up at him. Around them people peppered them with questions. He heard the words, but let them bounce off him.

“What dedication?”

“You didn’t read it? You didn’t read the book I sent?”

Slowly she shook her head again. Guilt, pain and something he seriously prayed was hope flitted across her face. She licked her lips and then said quietly, “It hurt too much. I couldn’t read it without thinking about us.”

Something thick and heavy churned in the pit of his stomach. And yet, despite it, he knew exactly what he had to do.

He let out a loud whistle, and was amazed how quickly the crowd fell silent. Every single eye in the place focused on him, including Marcy’s.

Reluctantly he let her go to reach for one of the books stacked high on the table. Facing the crowd, he said, “She hasn’t read the dedication.” Soft murmurs rippled through the group, but everyone quickly became silent. They all knew what he was about to do. Everyone except Marcy.

She stood there staring at him as if he’d just grown feathers.

Turning to face her, he opened the book and flipped over the first several pages.

“First, I want you to know how many hoops I had to jump through to get my publisher to change this at the last minute. I think I owe them my firstborn child.”

A soft twitter from the crowd sounded beside them.

His eyes dropped to the page, but they didn’t stay there long. He didn’t need to read the words to know what it said. He had them memorized, had agonized over just what he should and could say to her. He didn’t want to see ink on paper.

He wanted to watch her. To see the expression in her eyes.

“‘Marcy, I might have been able to write this book without you, but it wouldn’t have been worth the effort. Nothing matters without you in my life. I know I don’t deserve a second chance, but I’m hoping you’ll give me one anyway. I love you.’”

Every woman in the crowd sighed in unison. Every woman except the only one who mattered—Marcy.

She just stared at him, her eyes wide.

“Say something,” he whispered, although everyone in the place could hear, since they were all holding their breath.

“I love you, too,” she said, her voice scratchy.

Another loud roar filled the room, covering up Marcy’s next words. “But how are we going to make this work? Simon, you lied to me, broke promises, didn’t trust me enough to let me in. I can’t go back to the resort and work for you—I refuse to mix business and pleasure. And I won’t play Russian roulette with my career again. It’s too important and I’m too good.”

“I trust you now. With my life. My heart. The resort. Whatever you want. Everything I have, everything I am is yours, Marcy. I promise never to lie to you again. And while I can’t promise never to get wrapped up in my head and forget something again, I can promise you I’ll try.”

Simon glanced quickly at the rapt faces of the audience, realizing he was about to spill his secret to them and the reporters loitering at the back of the room. But if it meant convincing Marcy to come home it would be so worth it.

“Someone I once cared about betrayed me in the worst possible way.”

The crowd murmured darkly, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

“My fiancé. After that it was just easier to shut everyone out. To cut myself off from everyone and everything. To hide.”

He would have gone on, giving her as many details as she needed, but she stopped him. With a single finger to his lips, she said, “You don’t have to explain. I understand.”

Of course she did. She’d experienced the same kind of betrayal.

“That doesn’t fix our employee, boss, lover problem, though, Si— Cooper.”

“I trust you. Now, my question is do you trust me?”

Marcy closed her eyes for several seconds. He knew this was hard for her. She was such a strong, independent person. Putting her faith and future in someone else’s hands was difficult. But he really needed to know if she would do that for him.

He’d learned over the past few months that trust had to run both ways. Looking back on his relationship with Courtney, he could admit that he’d known there was something wrong with it, something missing. It hadn’t bothered him, though. The sex had been good. She’d been a beautiful hostess and trophy he could show off, along with his expensive apartment and career accolades.

But they hadn’t loved each other and had never put the other first. Not the way they should have if they’d really cared about one another.

The way he cared about Marcy.

Given her history, he understood her hesitation. And, yes, time would prove to her that her fears were unfounded. He had no intention of ever letting her go again, but he also understood her need to work, to feel that she was using her skills. There was a part of her that would always judge her own value by the job she could do.

And her drive was one of the reasons he loved her.

“Absolutely.”

“Well then, leave everything to me,” he said with a smile. Then he bent her backward over his arm and kissed them both senseless.