Текст книги "Her Accidental Husband"
Автор книги: Ashlee Mallory
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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 16 страниц)
Chapter Five
Payton dropped the change in the hand of the toll attendant and, once the gate popped up, pressed on the gas, sending the car lurching forward. Cruz closed his eyes, having vowed not to say a word upon leaving Monterrey that morning.
But seriously. The woman was a menace behind the wheel. He’d almost swear she was doing it just to test his fortitude.
She snuck a glance at him, and he turned in time to see a dimple and smile before they disappeared. Normally, he might be irritated that she was trying to goad him. But this morning, after knowing what she’d been through the day before and the toll it took on her, he was actually relieved to see some of that familiar spunk.
But he couldn’t resist imparting one warning. “I know we’re in a hurry, but you realize that being placed in a Mexican jail for speeding probably wouldn’t help us arrive any sooner.”
“They put people in jail for speeding?” She actually sounded shocked.
“They can do anything if they have reason to. A couple of Americans racing through Mexico may raise their suspicions, and they could fabricate a reason for holding us. You have to remember that in Mexico, you’re presumed guilty until you prove your innocence. Do you really want to push it?”
Payton’s foot eased off the gas a little.
“I’d recommend we go a few miles under the limit, just to be safe. We’ll still easily make Guadalajara by three-thirty.”
He watched her again, the bright morning light making it easier to see her features now that the sun had risen. Since their luggage was temporarily AWOL, Payton didn’t have on the usual light touch of makeup. Her lashes were bare and light like her hair, but instead of making those green eyes disappear into her pale creamy skin, the effect made her look younger and more innocent. If not for the slightest pink tinge around her eyes, you wouldn’t have known she’d spent the night before crying.
His hands tightened in a grip as he remembered that helpless feeling he’d experienced as she crumbled in front of him, tears no longer dammed back. Knowing she was being ripped apart by the actions of the one man who was supposed to love and protect her. Having two sisters, he’d seen first hand the pain and devastation that love can bring, and he’d been careful in his thirty-five years not to get close enough to any woman to cause that pain. It wouldn’t be fair to them.
Unlike Dominic, a family, house, woman of his dreams…they weren’t something he ever envisioned. He wanted to make a name for himself. Conquer the business world and make sure no one ever underestimated him. He couldn’t let himself get distracted by the mess that love could cause. Having Angelina crush his naive seventeen-year-old heart had been enough.
His thoughts turned to the other thing that had stood out about last night. That had, in fact, kept him company long into the early hours, when sleep evaded him.
Payton.
What the hell had she been thinking answering the door in that T-shirt and prancing around the room like she had? Did she have no idea how enticing and sexy as hell she’d been with her hair tousled and around her shoulders, her cheeks flushed, her eyes brilliantly green? It was obvious she didn’t.
But he did. As had the guy who’d delivered room service, sneaking glances at her legs and chest when she was too distracted with signing the slip and holding the phone to notice. It had taken every ounce of strength not to slam his fist into the guy’s belly when he couldn’t keep his gaze higher than her breasts.
At least this morning she was fully dressed again and Cruz could think straight.
A catchy song came on the radio and Payton’s head bounced slightly to the music. Her hair that had been so carefully straightened and styled yesterday was now in softer waves around her shoulders. Pretty. Probably silky and smooth too.
Once again, he asked himself what the hell Brad had been thinking cheating on a woman like her?
If Cruz was where Brad was, with an enviable last name and business title, ready to inherit a massive financial empire, and a beautiful and smart and funny woman at his side, he wouldn’t need to mess around with any cheap bimbo. He’d have everything he needed. Just goes to show that some people could really be bat-shit crazy, never appreciating what they had.
Reaching behind the seat, Cruz pulled his laptop out of the bag and booted it up. Even without an Internet connection, he could still get some work done. Cathy had called earlier to confirm he was scheduled for a conference call with Dick Eastman later this afternoon, and he wanted to be ready. He just prayed his cell service, which had already been spotty, would hold out until then.
Payton glanced over at his screen and then back at the road. “Seriously? You’re going to work for the next few hours? Isn’t this supposed to be a vacation?”
He didn’t look up as he responded, “First, I think we can both agree that this adventure isn’t anywhere near a vacation. Second, there’s no chance I’m letting you take the wheel longer than three hours. And third, when you have a job you love, that you’re passionate about, work is less of a trial than a thrill. But then again, I can’t imagine a social butterfly like you has ever worked a day in her life or aspired to be anything else than pampered.”
“Gee, and here I thought we were making some progress and you were something other than an ass.” He flitted his eyes up to see her grip the steering wheel and just as quickly release the tension. She swept her hair to the side and breathed in, as if following some three-step program for stress relief before she continued. “Not that I have any reason to explain myself to you, but I’ll have you know I had other aspirations once. I was even in the top fifteen percent at Vanderbilt—not an easy feat.”
“Vanderbilt? Isn’t that some snooty school turning out southern belles every season?” he asked, as if he hadn’t already Googled the school.
“It’s only one of the top-rated colleges in the country and was ranked number sixteen by U.S. News last year.”
Okay, he was being unreasonably condescending but he couldn’t help himself around this woman. For some reason, Payton Vaughn brought out the worst in him. Like he was taking out all his frustration with the business world and the good old boy’s club that he’d been working against on her. It wasn’t fair. He knew it but couldn’t seem to stop himself. “What did you major in, anyway? Home Economics? Embroidery? No. Don’t tell me, Liberal Arts and Science.”
Instead of getting under her skin, as he’d been trying, she only smiled at him and shook her head. “Earth and Environmental Science. I wanted to be involved in land-use planning and environmental management one day. Even spent a summer in Costa Rica. The way they’ve incorporated conservation techniques while maintaining economic sustainability is commendable.” She sighed and scrunched up her nose in distaste. “Now I’m resigned to making sure the charitable events I’m on the board for have appropriate recycling receptors and limit themselves to serving shrimp as an appetizer only twice a year.” She glanced over at him and added, “You have no idea the ecological devastation shrimping has on the oceans.”
Okay. She’d shocked the hell out of him. He was suitably impressed. “So how come you’re not doing anything with your education?”
She shrugged. “Emily Vaughn envisioned something else for her daughter.”
She was silent another moment, as if trying to decide how much more of herself she wanted to share with him. He shut the laptop, letting her know she had his attention. She smiled a little wistfully. “After I graduated and returned home, I had ambition. I even took the LSAT, like Kate, and was accepted into the U’s law school. I was going to focus on environmental law, maybe be a lobbyist or something.”
He nodded, encouraging her to continue. “What happened?”
“Just one crisis after another, starting with my grandmother dying—a woman my mother avoided like the plague when she was alive. Her death sent her into a spiraling depression. With her incapacitated, I found myself putting off law school and stepping into her shoes for the next year, thinking it would still be waiting for me later. But I did such a great job with the functions I helped host, and they needed new blood so badly, I found it hard to untangle myself from those obligations. And I have to be honest, it was fun and liberating at first, not having to worry about the next exam or research project, staying out late and sleeping in until well past noon. I was frivolous and stupid and…”
She stopped, considering her words. Finally she shook her head, almost in disgust and sighed. “I guess, when I put it like that, I can’t blame my mother entirely for the course my life has taken. I could have said no. But it was so much easier going along with the tide than fighting it. And then Brad came back home and I starting seeing him, which made both of our parents ecstatic, and I got wrapped up in having the perfect life with him and”—she darted a glance his way—“you can see how well that went.”
“So what are you now, twenty-seven? Twenty-eight?”
“Twenty-nine.” She definitely sounded disgruntled about that.
“Twenty-nine, then. It’s not like you’re in your fifties and are just now seeing Brad for who he is and having to get back out there and reinvent yourself. You’re still young. You can still go to law school, have a career. If you wanted to.” Look at him. He’d become Payton Vaughn’s own virtual cheerleader.
“Maybe,” she said, not sounding particularly convinced.
“Well, what else have you got to do? Host more tea parties?” Ouch, that sounded harsher than he intended.
She laughed, though, unfazed. “You know, it’s only been twenty-four hours since the life I thought I was going to have was ripped out from under me. Give me a little time to recover. We can’t all be ambitious business men and women trying to earn a profit equal to the gross capital of—of Chile.”
He smiled. He couldn’t help it. “I can assure you, that is not my goal. I just want to see my family’s company reach the level of respect and profit that it’s due.”
“Yeah. About that. As Kate and Dominic tell it, you’re obsessed with some new deal that’s going to put the company on the map. Is that what you’re working on now?”
“Yes, and if I nail this thing, the future will definitely be looking up for Sorensen Construction.”
“Really? Who’s the deal with?”
He flexed his fingers, reluctant to impart the details with her of all people. At least not until it was a done deal. It seemed like bad luck, not to mention potentially humiliating if for some reason this deal didn’t happen. But she would probably find out soon, so may as well get it over with. “Dick Eastman and I have been negotiating for months on a contract to build four new car dealerships for Eastman Motors and the new Eastman shopping district down in Provo.”
“Dick Eastman? My almost father-in-law Dick Eastman?” She visibly shuddered. “I suppose congratulations are in order. I’m sure that must be a great opportunity. Only…” She stopped, wrestling with something.
“Only what?” Did she not think he was good enough, that Sorensen Construction was not good enough for the likes of the Eastmans? As quickly as he thought of that, he dismissed it. He knew his company and its capabilities. Payton’s reluctance seemed to stem from something else.
“Well, I’m guessing you’ve met the man by now. You should have some idea what I mean. He’s a controlling, manipulative, sexist pig.”
“Who up until yesterday was going to be your father-in-law,” he added incredulously. “You didn’t mind then.”
“That is the brightest silver lining in this whole thing. The way that man uses people, his son included, is disgusting.” This time she looked at him, meeting his gaze. “I’m sorry. I am sure this will be great in a business sense for your company. I’d just make sure you’re going into it with your eyes wide open.”
“Your concern is duly noted, but I think I can handle Dick Eastman. As far as I’m concerned, this deal is going to give Sorensen Construction the opportunity to become a more recognizable name, which will have far wider benefits than just this contract.”
She shrugged. “Just glad it’s you and not me. I always got the impression he was looking at me more for my gene pool, for what I could pass onto the next generation of Eastmans than any happiness I might give his son.”
He could see it. Dick was definitely more old school than Cruz liked—more caveman-esque—but it wasn’t like he was joining the family. Wasn’t going to be marrying a sister or a daughter. It was business. That was all.
But it did give him a little more insight into Payton Vaughn. Made him a little more sympathetic. It seemed that in her eyes, the only value she’d been made to feel in her twenty-nine years, was in the parties she hosted, the people she rubbed shoulders with, and the man and family she could marry into. Whether he was a cheating, lying bastard or not.
At least she was finally standing up for herself. Finding her own value, which, from where she was coming from, was pretty amazing. Admirable even…
After ten minutes of listening to Cruz’s fingers click across the keyboard, Payton reached over and flipped the radio back on. “Is this going to bother you?”
“I can work through anything. Just keep your attention on the road.”
“Yes, Dad,” she said in a singsong voice. Jeez. He needed to loosen up.
She hazarded a quick peek at her companion. Even without a change in clothes or access to his own toiletries he looked…pretty damn good. The shadow around his jaw was dark and pronounced, and combined with those wicked brown eyes that looked at her with an intensity that always made her feel a little uncomfortable, he was sinfully sexy. His shirt might not be as crisp as it was yesterday, but with the sleeves rolled up above his forearms—which had dark, wispy hair curled nicely against his tanned, warm skin—he still managed to maintain a presence. One that had had the front desk attendant at the hotel almost in a puddle at his feet.
It wasn’t like Payton hadn’t noticed Cruz’s dangerous good looks when she’d first seen him. But after she overheard him insulting her, sight unseen, it had been easier to envision some added horns and a tail making him a caricature of pure evil. It was easier to loath and dismiss him as a jerk, because then she could ignore the fact that being near him set her blood boiling in more ways than one.
But now, with their new and tentative truce, and his surprisingly supportive demeanor over the past few hours, it was harder for her to put up her usual blockers where he was concerned. Which could get dangerous.
Couldn’t he at least have BO? Or flat and greasy hair? But no, he smelled decidedly masculine in the close quarters of the car, something like incense and leather. Dark. And of course his hair was lustrous. Almost disgustingly so.
Gah. She needed to clear her head. Where was a familiar tune to sing to?
She didn’t know any of these songs. It was a road trip. They needed tunes. Okay, she needed tunes. It was just how it was done.
“Hey, do you have any music on that phone of yours? I think this car can sync with your phone’s Bluetooth, if you have something worth listening to.”
“No.” He continued to click away at the keyboard.
“No, seriously. I won’t critique it—well, not too much. But I need something I can sing to.”
“I don’t keep music on my phone,” he said matter-of-factly.
What? She shot him a disbelieving look.
“Eyes on the road,” he reminded her, without taking his attention off the laptop screen.
“You’re kidding me, right? You’ve got to have something.”
He shrugged. “Never had a need for it. My phone is for making calls and texts and for sending and receiving emails when I can’t be on the computer. Those are the only reasons I need a phone. If I wanted to listen to music, I’d buy a radio.”
“You know, for a guy who can’t be more than…forty—”
“Thirty-five.”
She suppressed a smile, knowing very well how old he was but enjoying the rancor in his tone. “Thirty-five, then…you sure act like you’re seventy. I bet you yell at small children who step on your lawn back home too.” Which again she knew wasn’t true because he lived in a condo up by the Capital. Not that she’d been stalking him, but Kate had mentioned it once in passing. “And I bet you bemoan the invention of the television and the arrival of that devil music called rock and roll.”
She snuck another glance at her now silent partner. His jaw flexed, either in irritation or humor, it was hard to tell. “So why even get a smartphone if you’re not going to take advantage of all the features? What about apps? Have you downloaded any of the free apps? Twitter? Facebook?”
“Please,” he said, and made a face. “What a waste of time.”
“Netflix? Pandora? What about Fandango?” More head shaking. “Okay, so you and Becca are out on a date and—”
“I told you I’m not seeing Becca anymore.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Whatever. So you’re out on a date with someone and you both decide you feel like a movie. What are you going to do? Find a paper? Call the theater? With the app, you just touch the screen and it lists all the theaters in your area, what movies are playing, and show times. You’re totally set. It’s magic,” she said and snapped her fingers for effect.
“I can assure you, when I take a woman out on a date, I know the plans for the evening ahead of time. I don’t ‘wing it.’”
She gave him a sideways look. “Wow. You’re certainly Mr. Spontaneous, aren’t you?”
“I told you. I don’t like surprises. I like to know what’s going to happen when I can.”
“All right. So walk me through one of Cruz Sorensen’s signature dates.”
He ignored her, typing a few sentences on the screen instead.
“What, is it a secret? Proprietary information? Come on. Humor me. I have no music or other entertainment. So you have to give me something.”
“All right. For a first date, I usually try to determine what the woman’s interests are and tailor the evening accordingly. For example, Becca is a dental hygienist who I happened to know enjoyed funny movies and—”
“Dental hygienist?” she interrupted, unable to resist. “Don’t tell me. Did you actually ask her out while she was digging in your mouth? Is that how you met her?”
“—and flowers.” He finished. “And yes. I met her at the dentist on my six-month visit.”
“Romantic.” She chortled. “Does that mean you’re going to have to find a new dentist, now that you’ve called it off?”
His fingers paused over the keyboard. Probably picturing a rabid Becca gripping sharp metal tools as she told him to open up. Ha.
“All right. So back to the date. Becca—and every other human on the planet—likes comedies and flowers. So what?”
“For our first date, I took her to a comedy club and then made her dinner and dessert at my place.” The smug smile on his lips told her dessert was likely a euphemism, and she rolled her eyes. What a guy. “Our second date, we went to an outdoor showing of a Sundance flick up at Red Butte Gardens. She was impressed with both choices.”
Payton had to give him points. Those did sound pretty good. Better than the old dinner and a movie option—not that she didn’t love that too. But there was something to say about originality. “Okay. What about me? Based on what you know of me, where would you take me for a first date?”
He turned to her, and she felt those discerning brown eyes studying her carefully.
Do not squirm.
“That would depend on the season. If it were summer, I’d say one of the outdoor concerts the symphony puts on at Park City. We’d bring our own blankets and wine and lay out under the stars.” She worked to keep her jaw from dropping open. It was exactly her idea of a night out. Had Kate told him? He continued, “In the winter? Maybe a show at Capital Theater and dinner or… Actually. Scratch that. Hockey. Yes, definitely hockey, and dinner would be nachos and hot dogs from the concession stand.”
“Hockey?” That hadn’t been anything near what she’d expected to hear. “Now you’ve overplayed your hand. I don’t even like hockey.”
“Have you ever been to a hockey game?”
She paused. “Well, no. But I don’t have to see the game to know I wouldn’t like it.”
“Which is why it would be memorable. And how can you possibly know you don’t like something that you haven’t tried?” He shot her a disgruntled look. “My point is, I think we can both agree that, contrary to me, you get a thrill out of the unexpected.” For some reason, it struck her that he said this in an almost admiring tone. “And then I’d probably offer some dessert after,” he added, and she glanced over to see a smirk touch those lips. “At my place.”
She laughed. “I’d just bet you would.” Only, the thought of heading to Cruz’s for some dessert and all that it might involve actually sent a jolt of excitement through her. And a little terror.
In Cruz’s hands, she didn’t know what she might be capable of.
She noticed he was still staring at her and she felt her cheeks warming, almost as if he could read her mind and knew what delicious things she’d envisioned. She cleared her throat. “You definitely seem to have it all down to a science. You hook the girl in, then when she’s positively enamored with you and orders the embroidered towels from Pottery Barn with your names entwined, you cut her loose and move on to the next hapless victim.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I do,” he said in a droll tone, turning his attention back to his computer. “And above my headboard are the nicks I’ve made for each conquest.”
“Come on. You’ve almost said as much yourself, and I quote, ‘Things have gotten a little busy at work and I wasn’t able to give her what she was looking for,’ which is code for”—she lifted her hands from the steering wheel a moment and made air quotes—“a serious relationship. You run at the first sign someone wants something more than a casual fling.”
He truly looked perplexed. “Well, of course. I want to be honest with them. My life, my immediate and future plans, they’re wrapped up in Sorensen Construction right now. It’s best to be upfront with the women I date. Becca made it clear she wanted to take things to another level. Something I’m not prepared to give her or anyone at this time in my life.” He said it, however, almost as if he’d never have the time.
“Wow, you sure are a romantic.”
“Just realistic.”
“Have you always been like this? Wasn’t there anyone who you ever wanted something more with?”
“Not since I was seventeen. Seventeen, naive, and hormonally challenged.”
She didn’t know if she felt sympathy for him or wanted to kick him. “How is wanting to spend your life with someone naive?”
“I’ll tell you another time,” he said in that smug way of his. And for a second she imagined some poor moony-eyed teenaged girl handed her heart by Mr. Sensitive. “Just remember we weren’t all born with a silver spoon in our mouths, the world at our feet. Look, I have a conference call I need to make in another hour with Dick Eastman and want to have some figures ready. Can we table our discussion for the time being?”
“Fine. Whatever.” She returned her attention to finding a song on the radio. Why did he have to bring it back around to her and the fact that she came from wealth? They were talking about love here. Or whatever came close to it. The subject was definitely not over.
Because she was curious now as to what happened to the naive seventeen-year-old Cruz Sorensen that had made him the cynic he was now.
