He nodded. “Yes. When I first visited Thailand I was backpacking with friends, no luxury resorts or anything. We ate in the marketplaces and avoided the tourist traps. I want to bring that element into the resort. Luxury, but with a chance to experience the culture.”
She shot him a severe look, her lush lips pulled into a tight line. “We’re putting that in the press release when the resort opens. I don’t understand why you’re so reluctant to give the public some information about the good things that you do.”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “As you said, Lily, they call it a private life for a reason. I don’t see the point in sharing every aspect of myself with the press. I don’t talk about the fact that I raised Maddy because I’m afraid it would embarrass her. She feels like she must have been unlovable for our parents to neglect her like they did, and I’m not about to let the public know the circumstances of her life. It isn’t fair to her.”
“And the other things? The sanctuary? Your respect for the Thai culture?”
“Personal.”
“But it’s not really. It relates back to your business, to your image. And really, why not let people know you’re actually a decent person?”
He laughed. “My parents made so many charitable contributions they were hailed as the most generous couple in the San Diego area. They have plaques on schools and hospitals. It didn’t make them good people.”
Gage knew, better than most, that public image and private image were not the same thing. His parents were the most self-absorbed, selfish people he’d ever encountered, and that included every one of his past mistresses.
All of the flash, all of the grand gestures, meant very little when the only thing behind it was a desire for more publicity. His parents didn’t care about anyone, or anything, beyond their own ambitions. He’d worked all of his young adult years to establish his business. He’d been so determined to impress them with who he’d become.
He’d made his first million, his first two million, and still he’d waited. Finally he’d stopped caring. Probably on the day Maddy called, telling him she hadn’t eaten for three days, not because his parents were too poor to provide her with food, but because they were so busy living their very important lives they’d forgotten their daughter. That was also the day he’d brought his sister to live with him.
“The fact that my parents were willing to spare the time to write a check to boost their likability, to gain more business, didn’t make them good, or giving, or caring,” he growled, rage coursing through him at the memory. “I don’t play that game.”
He didn’t know what it was about Lily that made him say those kinds of things. She made him want to explain. If it were any other woman, any other employee, he simply would have let them think what they wanted, no explanation offered. But she wasn’t just another woman, and she wasn’t just an employee, either. He wasn’t certain how he felt about her falling outside of those clear, distinct categories.
“I understand that. I understand how much parents can motivate what you do and don’t do.” She looked up, meeting his gaze for the first time since they’d kissed on the beach. “My mother … growing up with her was difficult. Her relationships and all the drama they came with were the most important things to her. They consumed her and I hated it. I hated seeing her so controlled by this twisted emotion that she called love that made her do and accept the most horrible things.”
“That’s why you don’t do relationships.”
She nodded in confirmation. “That’s why I don’t do relationships. Ever. I don’t want to turn into that. I don’t want anyone or anything controlling me like that.”
“I wouldn’t, Lily, you know that. I don’t do the toxic relationship thing. Women I date are free to be their own people. I’m not looking to force anyone to fit into my lifestyle, because I’m not looking to add anyone to my life permanently.”
Lily bit her bottom lip until it hurt. She was tempted, again, so very tempted, to take Gage up on his offer. She’d come out of the bedroom with the best of intentions, her protective shield in place, ready and willing to resist him and carry on like she always had. But that was impossible. She knew now. She knew about the power of desire.
Wanting sexual satisfaction was entirely different than wanting another person. It wasn’t simply about wanting to reach the peak of pleasure, it was about wanting to touch him, taste him, explore him. It wasn’t about just wanting a man. That would have been much easier to cope with. This was about wanting one man specifically. She wanted Gage. No one else.