The Millionaire Affair(18)

"It's not," she insisted. "It's mean."

"I know you didn't intend to be vicious. Trust me, Kimber, it's fine.  Lissa and I weren't exactly head-over-heels-in-love there at the end."  Or for most of the beginning. For six years, their relationship had been  more controlled and organized than a lab experiment. Which had been  fine by him. What hadn't been fine was the grainy video shown to him on  someone's cell phone. There wasn't a good place to find out his fiancée  was involved in some seriously heavy petting with another man, but a  charity dinner for cystic fibrosis had to be one of the worst.         

     



 

"That's sad," she said.

She had that heartbroken look in her eyes again. He didn't like that  fragility. It made him want to …  he didn't know what. Protect her, or  something. Which was insane. Like he was in any position to be anyone's  knight.

"It wasn't … " He didn't know how to go about explaining his and Lissa's  relationship without sounding like a machine. "It didn't start out that  way," he amended. "I cared about her."

Oh yes. Way to not sound like a machine.

But it was the truth. He'd cared about Lissa. He'd never loved her  though. "By the time we were engaged, we were friends at best." They'd  been over each other. He'd thought they'd been friends, had a kind of  understanding most couples didn't have. They could travel, work, all  without answering to each other. It'd been an ideal arrangement.  Companionship, sex. A partner. But it hadn't been enough. Not for Lissa.  He'd learned that the night he'd seen the footage of her and Carson  Robbins. The prick.

"Then why did you get engaged?" Kimber asked, interrupting his thoughts.

"Are you a reporter?" he asked.

Her cheeks tinged with embarrassment. "I'm sorry."

He touched her knee, smiling for her benefit. "Kidding."

"Oh." He was rewarded by a small smile. He wanted to kiss her again;  found himself wishing she would saddle him so he could once more grasp  on to her cushiony, delicious body. Sounded like a better idea than them  sitting here talking about his ex-fiancée.

"So …  why did you?" she pressed.

She wasn't going to let that go. He would have to tell her the ugly truth. Is there any other kind?

"Because, like the YouTube video, Lissa thought an engagement would be good publicity."

Kimber's eyes widened. Naïve to the ways of the world. If only she knew  how many things were staged, arranged, and pretended. He watched her.  She watched him back.

Would she be strong enough to handle this about him? Or would she stand  firmly on her moral high ground and use his revelation as an excuse to  leave? There was a reason no one in his family knew he and Lissa were  about as in love with one another as Democrats and Republicans. Because  they would have lectured and browbeat him a long time ago.

Like Kimber was planning on lecturing him now?

He liked her. Too much, he realized a bit belatedly. But then, there was  no danger of losing himself to her, was there? His head was efficiently  separated from his heart. As they'd clearly just established.

But she didn't lecture him. She reached for his hand and squeezed. He  wanted to turn his palm over and intertwine their fingers. Instead, he  slipped his hand free and reached for his scotch.

"Don't be," he said after a thorough drink. "I am the Tin Man."

Her brows lowered. "You think you have no heart?" she asked with a hint of disgust.

He knew he didn't. At least, not in the way she was suggesting. "Lissa's nickname for me." He raised a shoulder dismissively.

"Well Lissa is a cheating, awful, horrible person who took you for granted. If I were you, I wouldn't heed to her opinion."

He sat up taller, felt stronger. Kimber coming out swinging in his  defense? He didn't need it, but he appreciated it. Other than his mother  and sister-and they did not count-he hadn't had a woman in his corner  in a long, long time. If ever. Kimber was so real. Authenticity radiated  from her like steam from a kettle. So different from the women he'd  shared his life with before.

Nice to know he could count on the truth for as long as she was around.  She'd never use him up for her own needs, whether he was willing or not.

A spark of hope lit within him and he snuffed it out. Hoping for a  future with Kimber was pointless. The lure of fake bait at the end of a  fishing line. He knew who he was. And getting a glimpse of someone he  could've been before he'd endured his unchangeable past didn't matter  now. That man wasn't real.

"Heads up," she murmured, pulling him out of his darkening thoughts. He  followed the direction of her gaze to the baby monitor. The screen  showed Lyon's tangled bedding and abandoned Superman figurine, but his  nephew was nowhere to be seen.

A moment later, Lyon appeared at the patio door. Kimber stood and Landon  had the inconceivable urge to latch on to her wrist and pull her down  next to him, despite their pint-sized company.

"Let me guess. Water?" she asked Lyon.

Lyon nodded.

"Come say good night to your uncle," she said sweetly. Landon's heart  pinched as she turned those soft eyes on him before walking inside. Then  pinched harder when he caught his nephew against his chest and managed  to wrangle the boy into the seat next to him.         

     



 

While his nephew recapped his adventurous day of Legos, Gotham City, and  peanut butter sandwiches, Landon couldn't stop his eyes from going over  Lyon's head to the swing of Kimber's bottom as she walked through the  living room to the open kitchen.

Not going to happen, he reminded himself sternly.

For her sake. And for his.





CHAPTER EIGHT


This is all your fault," Kimber teased after telling Gloria the gory details about what happened on the patio with Landon.

Glo choked out a laugh.

She'd sworn Glo to secrecy. Kimber didn't know what, if anything, Evan  knew about Landon and Lissa's relationship, but she'd made it clear to  Gloria not to repeat any of it.

"Well you, my friend, are welcome," Glo said, sounding satisfied.

"I'm ‘welcome'?" She laid on the sarcasm pretty thick, but Glo didn't flinch.

"You shared a delicious lip lock with a powerful, wealthy man, sweetie. You are welcome."

She made an excellent point. "Okay, well, maybe I'll blame Mick. If I didn't need the money to buy him out of Hobo Chic-"

"I warned you not to turn your boy toy into your business partner."

Kimber leaned on the bench, one eye on Lyon who waved before he slid  down the slide in the playground. She smiled and waved back, then  frowned at her best friend. "Do you really think now is the right time  for an ‘I told you so'?"

Glo took a sip from her extra-large Starbucks cup. "Maybe not."

"Anyway. If I hadn't needed the money, I could have said no."

"It's perfect, actually."

Kimber sipped her iced coffee and watched Lyon play on the slide. "What's perfect?"

"You always fall in love with every guy you date," Glo said. "Well, maybe not with them but with the idea of being in love."

Kimber didn't know what brought on that bit of psychobabble.  Unfortunately, Glo was right. Mick. Joey. Stephen. All of them would  have been perfectly suitable short-term relationships. It was Kimber  who'd sunk her hooks in them and tried to drag it out. Tried to make it  work.

"It's because of the divorce," Kimber said. "I'm trying to make up for  the fact that I couldn't save my parents' marriage, so I try to make  every relationship stand the test of time."

Glo's black eyebrows disappeared into her thick, ebony bangs.

"Dr. Phil," Kimber supplied.

"Huh."

"Kimber! Watch!"

"I'm watching!" she called to Lyon, applauding when he slid to the  bottom and rolled to the ground. She laughed, then her laugh faded. If  she had said no to Angel's offer to babysit, she never would have met  Lyon. And he'd opened her heart in a way she couldn't describe. Like  he'd knocked down a wall and let light in.

Yeah. And that light-filled, wall-less heart has nothing to do with Landon.

"You're so good with him," Gloria observed.

"I know. Weird."

"No. It's not the least bit surprising that you're good with children.  You are a very self-sacrificing person. You love in a genuine,  uncompromising way. Whereas I'm just …  mean."

"You're not mean," Kimber said. Then frowned. Glo's description of  Kimber reminded her of Landon's assessment last night. Was she really  seen as a saint? She'd gone out of her way to prove to him she wasn't  saintly last night. She'd risen with the worst feeling of dread this  morning, and hoped she might not run into him.

She did run into him, of course. The house may be big, but the kitchen  was the hub of all morning activity. There'd been no avoiding him. Lyon  had been watching TV from the kitchen table while his Froot Loops went  soggy while Kimber munched on an English muffin. Landon had stepped into  the kitchen in a sexy charcoal suit and a pair of stylish silver-rimmed  glasses she'd never seen before.