Mr. Imperfect(23)

That being the case, why did he feel so terrible? In the car he glanced  at her profile, remote and sad in the early afternoon sun-and got mad.  Regrets were for losers. He jerked the car into gear and accelerated  with a squeal of tires. She didn't reprimand him and Christian's anger  grew. "Damn it, I want you to be happy about this!"

"My mood is the only thing left under my control," she answered coolly. "And now you want to own that, too?"

He pulled to the side of the road and slammed on the brakes. "Look, I  know, all right? I know you came looking for me, so that blows your  revenge theory out of the water because what have I got to punish you  for? If anything, it's you who got the last word. And you know what's  really funny? Since Marion let it slip, I've been driving myself crazy  with what-ifs. Me, the hardened cynic. Does that make accepting the  hotel more palatable to you?"

Kezia stared at him and for a moment she thought she would pass out. "What did she tell you?"

"Nothing. I guessed." He frowned, his impatience obvious, and she  realized he didn't know everything. "My point is, you can rest easy  about taking the hotel. Probably for the first time in my life, my  motives are pure." His gaze flickered to her mouth. "Well," he conceded,  "maybe not entirely pure."

He leaned toward her and Kezia panicked, pushing against his broad chest  to hold him at bay. But he was still close, too close. His eyes seeking  answers she wasn't willing to give. He asked, "Why didn't you try to  track me down?"

"I realized I'd made a mistake. Up and leaving someone doesn't give them  a lot of faith in your ability to make a commitment." Kezia was amazed  at how calm her voice sounded. "And if you recall, you didn't leave a  forwarding address."

"No," he agreed with a bitter laugh. "At the time I was intent on hurting you."

She said nothing, staring blindly at his pale green silk tie. The hurt  was less knowing he regretted it, but it didn't change the fact that in a  fit of pique he'd abandoned her when she'd needed him most.

"I'm not trying to hurt you now." The sincerity in his voice weakened her. She had to be strong.

"Wait a minute, does this mean you were bluffing?"

He groaned. "If I say yes, will you still take the hotel?"

"Only if you agree to accept some sort of reparation when it starts  making a profit." Christian shook his head and Kezia set her jaw. "I'll  never be able to pay you back so at least let me pay a small percentage  of what I owe you."

"You owe me nothing, but if you must give me something, give me this." He pulled her closer.

"You know what I really want?" With one hand he cupped the back of her  neck, with the other he lifted her chin until she was forced to look  into his eyes, intent and passionate. "One wild night with you." His  voice, low and husky with longing, sent an involuntary response  shivering down her spine. "I know we can't change the past but let's  burn out every misunderstanding with a new memory."

He was already burning her, his body heat incinerated common sense, and  Kezia ached to bring him closer, but she wasn't going to kid herself  that she could handle another desertion. Not by the man she still loved.

She pushed him away gently. "And then you'll leave again."

"And you'll stay again." His gaze captured hers. "But this time we'll both know where we stand."

Kezia had never seen it from Christian's point of view, that he had  suffered her loss yet was willing to take the risk again. But for her,  suffering wasn't a risk-it was a certainty.

As she hesitated, he lifted one of her hands to his lips. "I never let  myself have regrets, never acknowledged how much you meant to me, but  when I learned you'd changed your mind … " He turned her hand over and  kissed the pulse point on her wrist.

"Christian, I didn't." The words came from someone else's lips surely,  for her own had barely moved, so devastating was the realization that  his offer was based on a misconception.

"I don't follow." His gaze searched hers, cautious now, and she steeled herself.

"I wasn't looking for you to say I'd come with you." With exaggerated  care Christian replaced her hand in her lap, and Kezia's heart sank. "It  was to tell you why I wouldn't."
                       
       
           



       
He restarted the engine, his profile carved out of granite. "You mean, there was an excuse I hadn't heard yet?"

Kezia gave him the choice. "Shall I tell you now?"

After a quick glance in his side mirror, Christian swung the sports car  back onto the road. "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn."



THE WEDDING WAS HELD AT Everton's finest multipurpose function center.  In the garden, under a bower of white roses. The ground, kept moist and  green by sprinklers, sucked like quicksand and the ladies kept stepping  out of their heels as they walked.

While the bride kept a nervous watch for bees-she was allergic-the groom  sweated in his gray coat and tails in the eighty-degree temperature.  And the flower girl ripped her chiffon dress jumping over the lily pond.  Anticipating repercussions, she howled during the exchanging of the  vows until she was placated with a soda.

Christian saw none of it, seething through the service and stalking to  the bar the minute it was over. There he downed a neat Scotch. He put  down his empty glass. "Another."

"Make that two." The stout woman who'd joined him was dressed in a  daffodil-yellow silk suit with the sort of hat-all flowers and straw-a  goat would love. "You look like I feel," she said. "I lost my son  today."

"I'm so sorry." He was shocked out of his dark reverie. "And you still came to the wedding?"

"He's the one I lost." She grimaced at the first taste of whiskey. "I  should have stuck with champagne." There was the faintest slur in her  words.

The penny dropped. "You'reWilliam J.'s mother."

"And you're Kezia Rose's latest conquest."

Christian scowled. "We're not together."

She took another sip from her glass. "Watch yourself. She comes across  nice as pie but that one's a heartbreaker." The third sip went down  without a face. "Though I hear you have a reputation in that area  yourself. Lots of Penthouse playmates, Billy said."

"Did he?" Fighting irritation, Christian accepted the glass the  bartender placed in front of him with a nod of thanks. "That just  confirms that Kez is not my type."

"Good for you." William J. Rankin the Third's mother clunked her glass  against his. "Everyone thinks she's kind and sweet but if I wasn't a  lady I'd call her a ball-breaker."

Christian had been thinking the same thing, but hearing it voiced by  someone else showed him it was patently ridiculous. Kezia was too honest  to deliberately mislead anybody. "Maybe the fact that she ended the  engagement is skewing your judgment."

"Maybe. And maybe you're already under her spell. Lordy, I think I'm  tipsy." Mrs. Rankin sought the support of a bar stool and climbed on it  with Christian's assistance even though he was more tempted to push her  off it.

"One thing I will say for Suzie … " Mrs. Rankin wriggled around on the  stool until her wide girth was equally distributed. "She appreciates her  good fortune. And she wants babies right away."

"There you go," said Christian dryly. "You can start thinking about a plaque for the nursery door."

"That's right." Her face brightened. "William J. Rankin the Fourth." She  toasted him and threw back her head to empty the glass. When she  straightened up her hat was askew. "I don't care what Billy says-"  leaning over, she patted Christian's knee "-I think you're charming.  Even if you do date centerfolds."

"There was only one, Mrs. Rankin." Despite his mood, he was amused. "I  have also dated computer analysts, teachers, accountants … how come no one  remembers the other professions?" Through the open French doors, he  watched Kezia's cherry-red dress float against her slender calves as she  approached the bride and groom with a congratulatory smile. He should  be glad she hadn't changed her mind all those years ago. He could shake  off the regret that had been plaguing him these past two days.

"So is it true implants make their breasts feel cold?"

With a sigh, Christian took Mrs. Rankin's glass away. "Bartender, how about a nice cup of coffee for the lady?"

Over the woman's hat he saw William J. sweep Kezia up in a hearty  embrace and plant a big sloppy kiss on her surprised face. Suzie  stiffened until there was as much starch in her posture as her bridal  gown. "By any chance," Christian asked Mrs. Rankin, "did you and William  J. share that champagne?"