The Tycoon

But I could. I could run it.

“I just want the foundation,” I said. “And to take care of my sisters. You can keep the fucking company.”

“I could offer that,” he said. “But what do I get in return?”

“The acreage.” Because as much as I would love to keep it and piss off Clayton for as long as possible, I wouldn’t do it at the cost of helping my sisters and getting the foundation. “But, more importantly, you would get the rare satisfaction of having done the right thing. It’s a nice feeling, Clayton. It really is. You should try it.”

“If I negotiated deals based on feelings I’d be out of a job.”

I looked away because what I was about to say next was not easy.

“What do you want?” I asked in a cold, dark voice.

He was silent for a long time, but I refused to look at him. I had some pride—and a healthy sense of self-preservation.

“How much are you willing to give up for your sisters, Veronica?”

“Everything,” I spat. “So just tell me what you want.”

“Would you sleep with me?”

“What?” I gasped.

“Would you let me touch you again?”

“Is that what you want?” I cried. “Sex? Seems a little clichéd, if you ask me, but you’re the millionaire businessman.” I was shaking, furious at him and myself for letting those words register even a little. To pull with their fishhook sharpness the memories from where I’d hidden them. I began to undo my buttons on my black jacket. It was all show, but it was a good one and I was committed.

“But if that’s what you want, let’s get to it.”

“Veronica—”

“Do I have to enjoy it? Can I close my eyes and think of England? Another man?”

“Is there another man?” he asked, through hard lips.

I leaned in to whisper, “A million.”

There was no way it hurt him, but I felt like a badass saying it.

“You never were a good liar,” he said. His eyes, a brown so dark they were almost black, were glittering. Illuminated.

No one had touched me in five years. That’s how badly he broke me. That’s the damage he caused.

“Well, you were certainly good enough for both of us. Now, what is it you really want, because we both know sex with me was only the price you had to pay.”

“That’s really what you think?” he asked. I didn’t realize he’d stepped forward until I took a deep breath and my breasts touched his jacket. I stumbled back, trying to get out of range.

Thelma finally earned her keep and barked at Clayton.

“No!” he said in a loud, clear voice, right at Thelma, and she stopped barking. She simply looked at me, and then back at him, like she wasn’t sure what had just happened.

“Don’t yell at my dog,” I said.

“Then control her.”

“I am. She’s protecting me. Against you.”

He opened his mouth as if to say I didn’t need protecting. I could actually see him thinking it. The words he wanted to say—I’m not going to hurt you—were practically written on his face.

But he’d already hurt me. And we both knew it.

“What is the condition, Clayton? It’s been a long day and I’m not interested in games.”

Unreadable, he watched me and then, to my surprise, he looked away, staring up at the bright blue Texas sky. “Let’s hear what your brother has to say, first,” he said.

“Are you playing with me?” I asked. “Because I’m not the girl you knew.”

“I know,” he said. “But maybe I’m not the man you knew, either.”

He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small gold watch.

My stomach curled up and twisted with pain and a remembered longing.

The watch I gave him.

He opened it to check the time.

“Lunch is being served,” he said. “You should have something to eat.”

“What…what are you doing with that?” I asked, pointing at the watch.

“You gave it to me.”

“No.” I shook my head. Of all the things that had happened today, this felt the most dire, the most likely to bring me all the way down to the ground. “I gave that to the man I thought you were. Someone totally different than you.”

“Veronica. I am the man—”

I shook my head and held out my hand. “Give me the watch.”

“You’re taking it back?”

“I am. I’m taking it back.”

If he wanted to argue, he didn’t. He just ran his thumb over the case, like he was giving it a fond farewell, and then he pressed it into my hand.

He said nothing else. He just turned and walked away.

Thelma barked after him. So tough now that he was gone.

He’s right, I thought. He’s not the man I knew. The man I fell in love with. The man I let touch me and whom I touched with such care and desire.

That man didn’t exist.

He never had.

And I had to remember that.