Seducing Her Rival (14 page)

Lucas frowned. Most everyone he knew recounted past drug escapades with a hint of glee in their tone—maybe not joy but a bit of nostalgia. Not Mercedes though. She sounded like someone who wished she could forget. He wanted to ask for more information, find out what about this hurt her so badly, but he’d just told her not to ask about Rosie. As much as he didn’t want to, he’d patiently wait for her to be ready to share more.

Before he could change the subject to something less sensitive, she said, “What about you?”

“Drugs? That’s your question?” She nodded, and he breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn’t gone back to her earlier inquiry. “Like I said, I came into my own at college. I experimented with everything there. Drugs. Sex. Gambling. Then I grew up.” He paused, thinking about the money he’d spent in the casino and the hours he’d spent in bed and elsewhere with Mercedes this week. Maybe he hadn’t grown up so much where sex and gambling were concerned but that hadn’t been her question. “And I settled on alcohol as my drug of choice.”

“Good choice.” She finally picked up her glass and took a long swallow.

Since she’d let him dodge Rosie, he decided poking at her drug-laced past wasn’t entirely fair. “So why the charity? You’re smart, driven, beautiful. There had to be a lot of doors open to you. Why exactly do you do what you do?”

Holding his hand, she smiled and stood up. “Sorry,
amado
, you are out of questions. Ask me that one again tomorrow. It’s time for you to take me to bed and show me some more of those things you learned in college.”

Now that sounded like an excellent plan. As much as he wanted to learn more about her, he could wait until tomorrow. Especially since they’d both clearly poked at sensitive areas of their pasts tonight. They had time to peel back the rest of the armor. Part of him was starting to think she might be worth a lot more time than just the day and a half left of their cruise.

Which meant he had no choice—he was going to have to talk to her about the inevitable result with the property.

Chapter Thirteen

Lucas was already up and in the shower when Mercedes’s phone rang, waking her from the most amazing dream. A sleepy smile stretched across her face as she grabbed the phone. “Eva, you have two minutes.”

“I only need one. I’m sorry. I don’t know where things went wrong, but I’m really, truly
sorry.”

What? She
and Lucas planned to spend the rest of the morning in bed—talking. Today was the day. After he hadn’t balked at the drugs last night, she was ready to tell him about Marco and the playground, ready to tell him everything. Mercedes needed to end the call as quickly as possible. They’d preordered breakfast last night, and champagne, chocolate covered strawberries and French toast were probably already on their way. With thoughts of an end to secrets and an entire morning wrapped in his arms, she gave a happy sigh and said, “You’re forgiven but what are you talking about?”

“The plan.” Eva paused like that would be enough to explain her agitation. “Kelsey went out to the property yesterday only to find a Sold sign plastered on the fence. It’s gone, Mercedes.”

Lucas had just stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in nothing but a towel, water dripping from his hair. Time seemed to stop, freezing her in this snapshot of an instant that balanced between fantasy and reality. Her teeth were clenched so tight they felt like they could shatter at any moment, and she could barely move her lips to ask, “Are you sure?”

“Positive. Fucking Bellamy Enterprises already put out a press release. It’s all over the Internet: Luc Bellamy to build Arts School in Queens. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,
chica.
Thank you for letting me know.” She thumbed off the phone and stared at it. She’d been so very wrong. He hadn’t fallen for her at all—she’d been the only one that stupid.

“Trouble in paradise?” His hands roved up and down her arms, and she hated the way her body still wanted to react to his touch.

“No. Paradise is where you live, and apparently everything there is as perfect as can be. In fact, you just added more land to your territory.” She jerked away from him. “Congratulations, you’re now the proud owner of a junked-up vacant lot in Queens.” When Lucas didn’t respond, just stood there frowning at her, she climbed out of the bed and chucked the phone at him before grabbing her clothes.

“
Pinche hombre
! To think, I actually started to believe you cared.” She yanked her tank top over her head. “That you understood how badly the kids over there needed the playground. How badly
I
needed it. I’m such a damn fool. I’ve dealt with rich boys like you in the past, and I should have known you were too good to be real.” She tugged back the bed covers, hunting for her underwear, which were once more nowhere to be found.

She was so upset about losing the playground she could barely think about what she was saying. The words fell from her lips. “Looks like I lied to Kelsey after all—I am just your damned whore. Thanks for the donation, Mr. Bellamy. Consider my bra and panties part of the package you paid for. I don’t want them back.”

“Mercedes, wait. I planned to talk to you about this.”

She shook as she glared at him. “When? After you were done with me? Or were you willing to break my heart even before the cruise ended?”

“This isn’t personal. It’s business. Based on everything you told me, Better Todays couldn’t have afforded the property.” He reached out to touch her, but she scrambled away.

“We were close. With the donations from the fund-raiser, we would have had a lowball bid. That land has been on the market
forever
. Without you swooping in, we could have had it.” Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe if he understood, he could still back out.

“No, you couldn’t have.
We
put in a lowball bid of a quarter million, but we could have gone higher. There were rumors of other businesses sniffing around. Had the zoning board not come through so quickly, someone else well could have jumped on it with a project
less
useful to the community than the school before you got your funds in order. At best the owners would have sat on your bid until the rumors died, assuming they didn’t reject it outright. Unless you tripled what you made on this cruise, you wouldn’t get the property.”

“And you’re telling me this now? Why not before the fund-raiser? Why not the day we
met
?”

“Because it took me time to put two and two together and figure out who you were. Then, by the time I knew for sure, I didn’t want to let it ruin our vacation.”

Our
vacation. She wanted to throw up.

He was moving toward her again like somehow his words made everything better. Could he not have at least pretended he didn’t know? Acted like he didn’t realize they were after the same thing. Like he had some flunky who dealt with all that and he was just a stupid figurehead? As much as she hated lying, this was worse. It was like being cut open with truth and left to bleed to death.

“So that’s it? We didn’t earn cash fast enough so we don’t have a right to the land? You’re the one with the piles of money, Lucas. There are a million places in Queens that you could have put your school. But you chose there. It’s not prime real estate. It’s the damn run-down docks!” Mercedes yanked on her shorts and glared at him, wishing this were all just a bad dream, but knowing better. “I’d finally started to believe that you weren’t one of those rich people who think money is everything. This place was my
dream
, Lucas. It was my damned salvation. But you come in here and tell me I don’t have a right to it because of money. I don’t think you’re a bad guy, but the minute you put a price on a dream—on my dream—you aren’t a man I want to know anymore.”

She backed toward the door, but he followed her, his eyes pleading. “I never said you didn’t deserve your dream. Everyone has the right to their dreams. That woman I lost? She had a dream too, and it was this school.”

“And so you chose a ghost’s dream over mine. If that’s where I fall on your priority list, then so be it. Just know you fall below a bunch of very alive kids on mine.” Tears she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing fall blurred her vision as she stalked to the door. When she yanked it open, she almost collided with the steward carrying the food tray and ice bucket. Spinning around, she glared at Lucas again, memorizing his face so she would never forget what betrayal looked like cloaked in sweetness and money and good looks.

Biting back the pain that threatened to spill from her lips if she looked at him any longer, she turned to the steward. “Turns out Mr. Bellamy doesn’t want breakfast anymore. Follow me.”

She didn’t wait, but Lucas must have made some sign of agreement since the steward trailed close on her heels. At her cabin, she pointed him inside, holding the door while he set the tray on a bed that had only seen a body once since she boarded. She stared down the corridor toward Lucas’s room, half hoping he’d rush out and tell her it was all some mistake, that he’d fix this—that he did care about her, love her. But no one else ventured to or from their cabins.

She stood in the hall alone—just like she’d started the voyage.

She shouldn’t have come on this trip.

The steward gave her a sympathetic glance when he left, and the tears broke free as she shut the door and sagged against it. At least she’d be able to drown her sorrows in too much decadent food and a bottle of champagne.

And if that didn’t work there was always tequila.

…

She’d walked out. Again.

Mercedes wasn’t an idiot. She’d come around after she cooled off and understood Better Todays never would have been able to afford the property before
someone else
bought it, at least not at the rate they were pulling money in. Too bad today was the last damn day of the cruise. If she didn’t get over her anger quickly, she’d disappear into the
boroughs of New York and he’d probably never see her again.

He’d waited for all the right reasons, but also because he was a damned coward who was too afraid of losing her to tell her the truth.

He jammed his feet in sandals and tugged a T-shirt overhead. He raced down the hall and rapped on her door. “Can we talk about it?” Silence hung in the air for a long minute as he strained to hear any noise from within. “Please, Mercedes.”

There. There was something.

It sounded like she was crying.

And most definitely not coming to the door.

Shit.

“I know you didn’t mean what you said about not wanting to know me. You’re just angry and I understand…”

A different sound—like she was choking on laughter.

Her voice came from just the other side of the door. “You know
nothing
. I never cared about you. I just wanted you to fall in love with me so you’d pull your dogs out of Queens. Apparently you were playing a game of your own. Congratulations again. You win. Now go away.”

Lucas yanked his hand back from the door as if it had burned him. It had all been an act? What kind of juvenile, disgusting… Clenching his hand into a fist, he stepped away from her cabin. When she’d stormed out, he’d assumed it was hurt, but if it was anger over some vicious game not resulting in the end she wanted, he didn’t know what to think.

But he had to agree with the part about her not being the type of person he wanted to know. Not anymore.

He stormed back to his suite. To think he’d been convinced she was his damn soul mate with their incredible chemistry and shared passions, but not only was she a hothead who flew off the handle instead of talking, she was the worst kind of deceitful. In all the times he’d walked away from women, he’d never toyed with their emotions like this. He’d never let them get close or open up the way he had with her.

And now he had to go back to New York knowing how nearby she was, a reminder every damn time he went to Rosie’s school that he’d opened himself up and for nothing. It didn’t matter that there were plenty of women who would happily take Mercedes’s place on his arm and in his bed. Women who would be a lot more docile and easier to deal with.

None of them would be Mercedes Vega.

They wouldn’t lose themselves in the moment eating a chocolate-covered strawberry. Or leap off a rock wall for charity. They wouldn’t make his skin tingle just by looking his way. They wouldn’t make him strive to be a better person. They wouldn’t keep him on his toes like a fucking prima ballerina.

And they would never meet Rosie’s approval. That was the worst part. He
knew
she was the right woman from the first time he saw her. Perfection in skin. It had meant something that day, but it had come to mean so much more over the week. It was like Rosie had drawn them together somehow. Like he wasn’t whole without Mercedes in his life.

Holy shit. He was in love with her.

His knees refused to hold him and he sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the hot pink bra and panties hanging from the TV. That was why he was so angry about this—why it was so easy to believe what she’d just said—he was head over heels for Mercedes Vega. He knew he hadn’t wanted to give her up, had kept coming back to her. It was more. When she was gone, he wasn’t just horny and worried about blue balls; he was
lonely
. More money than God, and he couldn’t buy what she’d given him. And now he’d sent her into a tailspin of anger and hurt.

And he couldn’t believe the woman he’d woken up next to had just been toying with him this whole time, no matter what she said. Even if it started that way, something during their time together this week had changed it.

He couldn’t give up without a fight. Mercedes was definitely worth working for, no matter how long it took.

Time for plan B.

…

When Lucas had knocked on her door, Mercedes debated opening it and dumping the champagne over his head, but then they’d be right back where they started with this whole mess. And look how that had turned out. No. It was better to just sit and wait for him to give up.

Then he’d said “please” and something inside her broke.

She’d failed Marco. For six years, she’d busted her ass to try to build him something
to make up for what had happened that evening in the park. Then she’d gone and fallen for a rich asshole and it had ruined everything.

Business. Just business, my ass
. It wasn’t business to her; it was personal. It had always been personal.

Even if she could get past the guilt over Marco, there was still the issue of Lucas deliberately taking away something that he
knew
meant everything to her.

How could she be with a person who had single-handedly taken away her dream without a second thought?

One stupid, stupid mistake and it seemed she’d never be able to make it right.

After she’d screamed at him about her plan to get him to fall for her, she grabbed the pillow, pressed it to her face, and sobbed. No way was she letting Lucas think she was crying over
him
. Because she wasn’t. This was about Marco, who would never walk quite right for the rest of his life because of her, not the empty spot next to her or the hollow in her heart.

Time passed in nothing but rage and pain as she spent herself with her tears. When she quieted to shivers and silent tears at last, she picked herself up off the bed. Even the food made her stomach turn, reminding her of how she’d planned to spend the morning.

Dios
. She’d turned herself into a whore for what? A pretty dress and great sex? Lucas had as much as told her the charity dance could have happened with or without his help. The gown hung on her closet door and she wanted to rip it to pieces, but she could sell it when she got home, get something out of the mess, no matter how small.