Chapter Eighteen
Tammy walked into the nursery office and found Lily busily working at her desk as though the man she loved had not just tried to steal her beloved nursery.
“Here you are. I went to the apartment thinking you’d be over there. You disappeared when we got back from Town Hall.”
Lily kept her head down, kept right on writing.
“I saw Rob outside. He said you showed up right after I dropped him off.”
She shrugged noncommittally. “I had errands to run, and now I have work to do.”
“Are you okay, Lil?”
She nodded but still didn’t look up.
“Rob said Rhett has called twice, but you refused to talk to him.”
She didn’t bother to nod this time, but her pencil stopped momentarily.
“Aidan Cross called too. Twice.”
That did make Lily look up. “I don’t want to talk to him either. He’s involved in this somehow.”
“I don’t believe that for a minute. Things may not be what you think,” Tammy declared. “Lily, I—”
“Believe it! Aidan was over at BDC the day I was delivering the interior plants, and he and Rhett were meeting over swapping properties. I hate all of them.”
“Lily Foster, you’ve never hated anyone in your whole life, and right now, you’re going to sit there and listen. I’ve got some splainin’ to do.”
Rhett lounged in a deck chair and stared out across the dunes as late afternoon storm clouds formed out over the Atlantic.
He took a long pull on the first of the three beers he had carried out from the kitchen.
Mrs. Burkhart had left him a casserole warming in the oven, which he ignored, opting instead to change clothes and sulk on his deck.
He had stalked out of his Palm Beach headquarters after an unsuccessful afternoon spent trying to concentrate on at least one of his development projects.
He had barked at his astonished secretary, chewed the heads off two design directors, and told Garrett to get lost when he showed up unannounced in Rhett’s office.
He’d had to get out before his employees staged a revolt.
After driving around Palm Beach for a while, he had given up and gone home to Jupiter Island.
Funny word . . . home. Never had his mansion felt more like a real home than the few days Lily had lived there.
He had dreaded the emptiness he knew he would find when he got here, and he hadn’t been disappointed.
He took another long pull on his beer and lamented over his situation, listening to the waves crash against the sandy shore. The wind had picked up out of the east, and the waves held more than their usual exuberance.
He had lost Lily, and he would never get her back.
No possible explanation he could give her would be believable.
As far as she was concerned, Rhett had tried to steal her beloved nursery and endangered her life by blowing up her propane tank.
Though his presence at her cottage the night of the fire might have given him a slim chance of acquittal, Lily had definitely caught him—almost naked—on the floor on top of Delia Armstead wearing a see-through nightgown.
No man alive could talk his way out of that one.
A woman would have to be crazy in love with a guy to forgive that scenario, and he hadn’t had enough time with Lily for that possibility.
He had dreamed up several ploys to win Lily back and had cast them all aside—the most foolish being to buy all the plant stock at Bloom & Grow in small quantities, so he had a perpetual string of inspections to do. Hell, Lily would just send Rob or Tammy to do the inspection in her place.
He stared in the direction of Sea Turtle Park and thought of the night his odyssey with Lily had begun.
He had known on some elemental level that first night that Lily was a perfect fit for him, instinctively knew she was different from any woman he had ever known.
His gut had never steered him wrong, yet he hadn’t listened to his gut when he felt sure she had betrayed him.
He had let Lily go—shoved her away—and the light had gone out of his world.
He had gained that precious light back only days ago and experienced a peace he had never known—an unbreakable bond—until the bitch Delia had worked her evil. He knew in his soul Lily had felt their link too. So, how could she not trust him? How could she toss their future away like so much trash?
He knew things had looked bad when Lily stood in the doorway to his bedroom, horrible in fact, but she hadn’t let him explain. Had not taken his calls.
Dammit, she owes me a chance to explain! Even a felon gets his day in court.
Rhett eased from his chair and moved to the edge of the deck where he could see past the shrubbery border to the boundary for Sea Turtle Park.
A sudden inexplicable anger flooded through him, and his jaw clenched hard.
Dammit, he hadn’t done anything wrong! Hurling his half-full can of beer into the landscaping, he stalked off the deck, needing to walk off his frustration if that was even possible.
Down the deck steps and out through the garden, he headed toward Sea Turtle Park.
By the time Rhett reached the park boundary, he fairly vibrated with anger—anger because Lily had never let him explain, anger because she had so blithely tossed them away like a piece of trash.
He wasn’t trash. He had spent a lifetime proving that to the world, and he refused to let her casually cast him aside without a fight.
He had fought for everything he had ever accomplished in life.
That’s what he did. That’s where he excelled.
All his pent-up hurt fed the anger. Lily hadn’t considered their relationship worth the effort, and his memories of their special place only served to taunt him tonight.
The late afternoon sun created shadows among the sea grapes lining the park path to the beach. He stalked over the dunes, his step determined. He needed to make a decision, and he would make it here where their odyssey began. He had always been a gambler, and now he had to decide.
Hold ‘em or fold ‘em. Now or never.
He had plum run out of second chances. His always-calculating mind said now was the time to cut his losses. The last rays of sunlight slanted across the beach and ocean making the incoming waves sparkle like thousands of bits of shattered glass.
Oh yeah, my future is shattered all right. I need to fold ‘em.
He lengthened his stride along the beach. He would need a good long walk to figure out how.
~ ~ ~ ~
Lily pulled her truck to a stop and peered out into the gathering twilight on Jupiter Island.
Lights were on in Rhett’s mansion, not many but a few.
As she stared up at the single light on the second floor, her heart beat unevenly, and her throat went bone-dry.
Memories swirled around her. Good and bad—some of her happiest and some of her worst. She had been thrown out of that very mansion by an angry ogre, carried back in by Prince Charming, and forced to flee the mansion on foot over an adulterous betrayal.
Perceived betrayal.
Tammy had convinced Lily she owed Rhett a chance to explain.
He had swallowed his pride and gone to the nursery the night of the fire to get her explanation.
She had to swallow her pride and go knock on his door tonight to ask for his explanation.
She needed to hear the truth from him about what had happened with Delia.
She would be able to feel if he embellished or told a lie.
After the code compliance meeting, he had called the nursery twice and even stopped by. Then he had given up, had made no further effort to contact her, other than the call to Tammy to be sure Lily was safe. What did that mean?
Only one thing. The next move was hers to make.
So here she sat, out in front of his mansion too chicken to pull in the driveway.
She had driven out to the island ostensibly to retrieve the clothing she had left behind after catching Rhett with Delia.
As good a reason as any. Her pride could still be salvaged if he was no longer interested in a resolution or worse still, had truly gone back to Delia.
She could hear Hank’s voice in her head. “Quit being a baby, Lily, and march on in there. Stand up for what you want or let it go.”
She couldn’t let it go. She couldn’t let Rhett go. Not without giving him a chance to explain. She just hoped he still wanted one.
She smiled inwardly, threw the truck in gear, and proceeded down the sloping drive. Rhett’s Navigator was visible inside the detached garage.
He’s home.
Her heart clamored wildly in her chest.
Showtime.
As she eased the truck forward, she spied a dark-green Jaguar parked on the circular portion of the drive near the mansion’s front door. Rhett had company? Her stomach took a painful lurch.
Did that Jaguar belong to Delia? If so, Rhett hadn’t wasted any time, and everything Garrett told Tammy had been a lie.
Do what you came here to do, Hank’s voice echoed in the stillness of her truck.
She needed to know the score once and for all. If Delia was inside with Rhett, Lily would have her answer. No more wondering. She took a deep breath and felt stronger, knowing an end to the madness lay in sight.
She climbed out of the truck and with a confidence borne of resignation, marched boldly to the front door. About to press the ornate doorbell, she noticed the door was unlatched and open a bare crack. Without thinking, she eased the enormous door further open and peered into the foyer.
Deserted.
She slipped inside. Her sneakered feet edged soundlessly across the cavernous foyer to the bottom step of the grand staircase.
She sucked in a deep breath, prayed for a spat of courage, and called out, “Rhett? Are you home?”
No answer.