Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
R ob watched as Meg followed his oldest friends out of the hotel. The sound of the door closing behind them sounded ominously like the last nail being driven into his coffin. He’d been a fool to let her meet Shelly’s entourage, let alone leave with them. Sinking onto the couch, Rob’s mind raced as he considered what he could have done and said differently. Meg thought he was ashamed of her. How the hell could she think that? He was exceedingly proud of her and actually felt undeserving of her. She was a wonderful woman.
A wonderful woman he’d been lying to since the beginning and now all his lies were unraveling. Shaking his head, he realized she was never going to dismiss his lie as anything less than what it was--an outright deception. Now that she’d met his friends the deceit seemed even worse. No doubt, Meg would believe he was toying with her, making fun of her. Well, Rob decided, Tara and Shelly weren’t going to ruin the best thing that ever happened to him. Rising, Rob raced to the door, startled to find Pierre, poised to knock.
“Pierre,” Rob began, “as you can see I’m on my way out.”
“Yes sir,” Pierre said, continuing to block the doorway, “I beg just a moment of your time.”
“Pierre,” Rob started, “this really isn’t a good time.”
“I understand,” Pierre replied, adding, “I saw Ms. Williams in the company of Ms. Thompson-Rhodes and her sister. No doubt you intend to join them.”
“Yes,” Rob answered, relieved not to have to explain his haste.
“Dressed as such?” Pierre asked, gesturing at Rob’s clothing.
Grimacing, Rob realized he was still dressed in his swimming trunks and the tattered t-shirt he pulled on just before opening the door to Shelly and the disaster she represented. No wonder Tara and Shelly had looked so shocked when he first opened the door. He never dressed in anything less than height of fashion. However, he toned down his appearance over the past couple of days so Meg would feel more at ease. It occurred to him, however, that he was the one who’d been more at ease in the comfortable clothing.
“Damn,” he muttered, turning and tromping back to his bedroom. The sound to the door closing alerted him that Pierre had followed. Reaching into his closet, Rob pulled out his Etro Cargo pants and black silk shirt. Buttoning the shirt, Rob turned to find Pierre standing in the doorway. “Go ahead,” he said, “tell me what an ass I’ve been. I should have told her the truth. Say I told you so because, by God, you did.”
“I don’t think you were wrong,” Pierre said.
Still ranting, Rob continued, “I’ve been lucky to get away with such an idiotic lie this long. I don’t know what possessed me to think I could—what did you say?”
“I don’t think you were wrong to lie to Ms. Williams,” Pierre repeated.
“But you said no good ever came from a lie,” Rob replied, recalling the long conversation they had at the bar last night. He was astounded by Pierre’s admission, especially in light of the fact it was all about to blow up in his face.
“I think, Rob, you’ve never known a true friend or even a true love. Someone who saw you as you truly were, not merely as an image displayed for public consumption. Very few people have ever seen through the mask you don to hide the true person inside.”
Rob merely nodded at Pierre’s astute comments as he continued, “But Ms. Williams. She has seen inside you, yes?”
Again, Rob nodded, before whispering, “Yes.”
“And I assume she liked what she saw?” Pierre asked with a slight grin.
“Amazingly, yes,” Rob answered.
“Then you were not wrong to lie to her,” Pierre stated, “however, you would be sincerely remiss in letting someone else, perhaps someone less careful, reveal your true identity.”
“I would,” Rob added, “but Pierre, I’ve waited too long. How could I ever ask her to trust me when the whole basis of our relationship, short as it’s been, has been built on a lie?”
“Actually,” Pierre replied, “I would say, for the first time in your life, this is the only relationship not based on a lie.”
Considering his words, Rob agreed. Meg knew the true Rob Madison, the man underneath the money and power. She knew the man who liked corn dogs and horror movies, the man who hated vanilla anything and who read mystery novels voraciously. She knew his secret fondness for reality shows and folk music. She knew all of this because she listened to him, took the time to get to know him, and ask him about himself. She cared enough to get to know him--as a person of worth, not ‘net worth.’
“I have to go,” he said, suddenly desperate to declare his love and his lie, desperate to stake the one claim in his life that meant a damned thing to him. He was a man known for never losing, never giving up. He would be that man now because if it took him until the day he died, he would marry Meg Williams. He wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life, spoiling her rotten and introducing her to everything she’d missed—snow skiing, Italy, art museums, and rock concerts. He’d give her the entire world.
“Good luck to you sir,” Pierre said as Rob passed him, rushing toward the hallway.
Turning, Rob added, “Thank you, Pierre,” before running to the elevator.
“So you are a teacher,” Shelly asked for the third time. Meg suspected she was merely repeating the fact until she was able to believe it. “Special education?”
“Yes,” Meg replied again, glancing toward the door for the hundredth time, wishing Rob would save her from the interminable company of these intolerable people. How on earth could Rob actually be friends with such a lazy, snooty, viperous lot?
“Retards, you mean?” Tara added, joining the conversation for the first time.
“No,” Meg answered curtly, the hair on her arms standing up. “I do not teach retards. I teach children who are mentally handicapped.”
“Same difference,” Tara added, stifling a yawn as if to express her boredom with the current conversation.
“Not the same difference,” Meg added hotly, “although I would say to someone with your limited education and level of compassion it might seem so.”
“Excuse me,” Tara said, sitting up, “I will have you know I attended one of the finest finishing schools in the country. No doubt you are a product of public education.”
“And proud of it,” Meg replied.
Tara smirked at her response as Shelly shot her an appraising glance. Apparently, the older sister felt a threat the younger sibling didn’t. Meg decided Shelly was clearly the one of Rob’s friends she should be most wary of. Tara didn’t have two brain cells in her entire head, too wrapped up in her own self-importance to notice anyone around her. Seth was clearly an alcoholic, as Meg watched his polish off his fourth martini in ten minutes without batting an eye. He covertly caught the eye of the waiter who immediately brought him his fifth.
“I think teaching is an admirable profession,” Shelly said, shocking Meg with the seeming sincerity. Yes, she decided, this was definitely the one to watch. “I must confess I’m curious how a teacher from Virginia managed to end up sharing a suite on a resort island with one of the most eligible billionaires in the world.”
At her words, Meg felt the breath leave her body. Billionaire? Of all the things, Shelly could say to blindside her, Meg had to admit she scored a direct hit. Aware the others at the table were waiting for her response, Meg struggled to clear the lump that had formed in her throat.
“Ah, there you are,” a familiar, deep voice said behind her. Turning, she saw Rob, her lovable, dear friend. Yet this time, she felt as if she was seeing him with different eyes. His clothing was casual enough, yet she suspected it cost top dollar. Judging from the distraught look in his eyes, she knew he heard Shelly’s last comment. However, she couldn’t help wondering if he was distressed by the comment or that she’d discovered his secret.
Tara bounced out of her seat at Rob’s appearance, clearly feeling victorious since the discovery that Meg was merely a teacher and no serious threat to her claim. “Rob Madison,” she purred, “You naughty boy, how could you leave me alone for so long?”
Rob Madison. The name bounced around in Meg’s brain until she thought it would explode. Madison hotels. Good God, she’d been shacking up with the owner of the ‘stupid’ hotel that had screwed up her vacation plans. How could she have been so blind? The penthouse, the caviar, room service at two in the morning. Damn, even the limo proclaimed the truth—MAD 1. Of course, he was the owner. And what a laugh he must have been having at her expense. No doubt the poor little rich boy had decided to do a little slumming. And she had slept with him. Given him her trust and her body. God help her, she could be carrying his child.
She didn’t remember leaving the bar or walking toward the front door of the hotel. She didn’t remember walking out to the parking lot. She didn’t remember anything until she felt Rob’s hand on her arm, yelling her name.
“Meg,” he shouted. “Dammit, Meg, you have to let me explain.”
“Explain,” she whispered, shock setting in. “Nothing to explain. I have to leave.”
“No,” Rob said, quieter now that she stopped walking away. “You aren’t going anywhere. Not like this.”
“Robert,” Tara’s voice sounded from behind her, “Let her go. I’m here now.”
“Tara,” Rob said, his voice filled with more menace than Meg had ever heard. “Get the fuck out of here right now before I have you escorted off my property by security.”
Meg heard Tara’s gasp and through the fog clouding her mind, wondered if anyone had ever spoken to her in such a manner.
“Come on Tara,” Shelly’s voice said, “I think it’s time we took our leave. I’m sorry, Robert,” she said and Meg could hear the sincerity in her words. What a waste, she thought with a humorless laugh. He was the one playing the game. He was the liar who had gotten exactly what he wanted from the dumb little hick from the sticks.
She felt the laugh continue, bubbling out of her in great, gasping hiccups. She laughed until she felt the tears streaming down her face.
“Christ, Meg,” she heard Rob exclaim, “You’re killing me, sweetheart. Please don’t cry. I can’t take your tears. They tear me up inside.”
“Let me go,” she whispered, anguish rife in her voice.
“Never,” Rob replied, as he lifted her up into his arms, turning back toward the hotel.
Jerking herself from her self-pity, Meg struggled to get away. Flailing and kicking, Meg watched as Rob fought to keep a firm grasp on her. In the midst of her thrashing, Rob shifted her, tossing her over his shoulder. Meg gasped when she felt his hand land hard upon her rear-end.
“Damn you,” she screamed, well aware of the scene they were making in the lobby, but uncaring. The ding of the elevator caused her to renew the fight, knowing her chances of escape would be severely limited if he got her back to the penthouse. Again, she felt his hand come down on her buttocks.
“Ouch,” she squealed, “that hurts.”
“Then stop fighting me,” he said. “I’m going to talk to you and I don’t give a damn if I have to tie you to a chair and gag you to make you listen.”
“Oh, no, Rob Madison,” she yelled, her voice mocking as she said his true name, “you listen to me. I’m leaving. Let me down right this second!”
Rob ignored her request as they entered the elevator and she continued to struggle, feeling more and more trapped as the elevator rose. Too soon, the elevator arrived at the top floor and Rob carried her quickly down the hall to his penthouse. His penthouse--not the company he worked for--the company he owned. Meg’s anger returned full-force.
As soon as he shut the door behind them, he set her on her feet, bracing himself for her attack. If Meg hadn’t been so furious, she would have laughed at the sight of a man the size and stature of Rob Madison preparing himself for the blows of a woman who barely came up to his shoulder.
“How dare you!” she yelled, raising her fist and pummeling his chest. “Who the hell do you think you are to manhandle me like that? You lying, conniving bastard!”
He winced at her words and blows and Meg felt a sense of déjà vu as she lost control of her temper and her tongue, much like she did her first night on the island.
“You’re right,” he admitted softly. “I am a liar. I lied to you.”
“You’re damn right you did and right from the beginning,” she pointed out stupidly, backing away from him. She was still finding it hard to catch her breath around the lump that had lodged in her throat. Rob had lied to her. She trusted him and he lied. Finally, her voice broke around the question she had to have answered, “Why? Why would you do that?”
“You didn’t recognize me,” he said simply.
“So?” Meg asked, perplexed, her anger returning. “What, did that piss you off? Are you so used to everyone knowing your face that you wanted to punish me for not worshipping at your billion dollar feet?”
“Good God, no. I liked that you didn’t know me.”
Confused, Meg just continued to stare, waiting for him to explain.
“For the first time in my life, I was able to get to know someone and to let them get to know me without my name and fortune influencing things.”
“That makes no sense,” Meg added.
“Maybe not to you Meg. No doubt the friendships you’ve formed were made based on mutual interests and compatible personalities and those relationships were built on trust. I constantly question the motives of the people who call themselves my friends because most people of my acquaintance don’t give a shit about me, only what I can give them. You met Shelly and Tara—they are two prime examples of the type of women who travel in my circles. Shallow, self-centered, spoiled to excess.”
“But you aren’t like that,” Meg said, his powerful words chiseling their way through her wall of anger. His pain was palpable and she found herself wanting to reach out to him despite the fact he’d lied to her, hurt her.
“Ah, but there is the rub, my sweet Meg. Until I met you, I fear I was exactly like that.”
“I don’t believe that,” she said, before turning away. She was livid with this man and yet here she stood defending him, reassuring him. Was she a glutton for punishment or what? If she had a brain in her head, she would get the hell out of here and leave the poor little rich boy to his own devices. But then a memory formed. The image of Rob following her into the bar Thursday night, offering her a drink and a place to stay. Offering to help her, despite the fact she looked like a drowned rat. Despite the fact she attacked his driver and then him. No, she thought, he wasn’t like Shelly and her family. No matter what he might say, there was a lot of good in him. For all her faults, she considered herself to be a very good judge of character and despite his lie; she thought Rob was one of the kindest, most genuine men she had ever met.
Turning around, she saw Rob still standing silently by the door, no doubt thinking he could bar her escape. His head was bowed and she saw how much her anger was costing him. Maybe there wasn’t such a thing as love at first sight. She didn’t deny their original attraction could be called anything other than lust. But somehow, somewhere, in the midst of all that lust, love had come. It was just as he had said. By getting to know him, by learning his personality, and figuring out what made him tick, the love had grown. His compassion and generosity spoke to her. His sweet words and compliments warmed her lonely heart. He said she saw the true man behind the name, but he also saw the true Meg, the one she kept buried deep beneath the boring, sensible parts. The one who longed to live, to see the world, to love him.
Love him.
Taking a small step forward, she swallowed her wounded pride and approached him with her heart in her hands.
“I love you,” she whispered, silently wondering if anyone had ever sincerely offered him those words before.
Staggering back against the door, Rob’s head jerked up. His mind was sure his ears had deceived him. For a second, he thought, no he dreamed that Meg told him she loved him. Looking up, he saw the same look in her eyes he’d come to covet as the days passed. The look he considered more valuable than all his property, all his possessions, all his money. Love. She loved him. Her lower lip trembled slightly and he realized how much courage it must have taken for her to confess her feelings to him. Once again, he had done nothing to deserve the trust she constantly bestowed upon him.
Falling to his knees before her, he grasped her small hands in his own. “I love you, Meg and I’m so sorry. Sorry for everything. I promise if you will give me a second chance, there will never be anything, but total honesty between us.”
Her light, tinkling laugh fell over him like a glorious waterfall and he watched as she kneeled down to join him on the floor.
“Rob, I understand why you lied and there is nothing to forgive. You gave me a wonderful gift this weekend. You gave me yourself, the true you. Your name doesn’t matter.”
“What about the money?” he asked, gravely.
“That doesn’t matter, either,” she replied seriously. “It’s just paper, honey. And that’s not what makes me love you. It’s you, the real you, that owns my heart.”
Laughing lightly at her casual dismissal of his billions, he leaned toward her. “I’d give it all away to charity if it was the only way I could convince you to marry me.”
“M-marry you?” she asked, her voice stumbling over the words.
“Meg,” Rob said, his grip on her hands tightening, “I don’t want just a weekend with you. I want a lifetime. I want you to be my wife and I want you to have my babies. I want to put down roots and have a real home with you. Will you marry me?”
Tears formed on her long lovely lashes and Meg merely nodded, speech obviously failing her.
“Is that a yes, Margaret?” he asked, his familiar teasing tone returning.
“Yes,” she whispered, before repeating the word louder. “Yes.”
Reaching out, he pulled her close to him, embracing her and his future with a heart that felt years younger and lighter than air.
“Thank God,” he whispered into her ear.