Her Accidental Husband (The Sorensen Family 2)
What the hell had she been thinking answering the door in that T-shirt and prancing around the room like she had? Did she have no idea how enticing and sexy as hell she’d been with her hair tousled and around her shoulders, her cheeks flushed, her eyes brilliantly green? It was obvious she didn’t.
But he did. As had the guy who’d delivered room service, sneaking glances at her legs and chest when she was too distracted with signing the slip and holding the phone to notice. It had taken every ounce of strength not to slam his fist into the guy’s belly when he couldn’t keep his gaze higher than her breasts.
At least this morning she was fully dressed again and Cruz could think straight.
A catchy song came on the radio and Payton’s head bounced slightly to the music. Her hair that had been so carefully straightened and styled yesterday was now in softer waves around her shoulders. Pretty. Probably silky and smooth too.
Once again, he asked himself what the hell Brad had been thinking cheating on a woman like her?
If Cruz was where Brad was, with an enviable last name and business title, ready to inherit a massive financial empire, and a beautiful and smart and funny woman at his side, he wouldn’t need to mess around with any cheap bimbo. He’d have everything he needed. Just goes to show that some people could really be bat-shit crazy, never appreciating what they had.
Reaching behind the seat, Cruz pulled his laptop out of the bag and booted it up. Even without an Internet connection, he could still get some work done. Cathy had called earlier to confirm he was scheduled for a conference call with Dick Eastman later this afternoon, and he wanted to be ready. He just prayed his cell service, which had already been spotty, would hold out until then.
Payton glanced over at his screen and then back at the road. “Seriously? You’re going to work for the next few hours? Isn’t this supposed to be a vacation?”
He didn’t look up as he responded, “First, I think we can both agree that this adventure isn’t anywhere near a vacation. Second, there’s no chance I’m letting you take the wheel longer than three hours. And third, when you have a job you love, that you’re passionate about, work is less of a trial than a thrill. But then again, I can’t imagine a social butterfly like you has ever worked a day in her life or aspired to be anything else than pampered.”
“Gee, and here I thought we were making some progress and you were something other than an ass.” He flitted his eyes up to see her grip the steering wheel and just as quickly release the tension. She swept her hair to the side and breathed in, as if following some three-step program for stress relief before she continued. “Not that I have any reason to explain myself to you, but I’ll have you know I had other aspirations once. I was even in the top fifteen percent at Vanderbilt—not an easy feat.”
“Vanderbilt? Isn’t that some snooty school turning out southern belles every season?” he asked, as if he hadn’t already Googled the school.
“It’s only one of the top-rated colleges in the country and was ranked number sixteen by U.S. News last year.”
Okay, he was being unreasonably condescending but he couldn’t help himself around this woman. For some reason, Payton Vaughn brought out the worst in him. Like he was taking out all his frustration with the business world and the good old boy’s club that he’d been working against on her. It wasn’t fair. He knew it but couldn’t seem to stop himself. “What did you major in, anyway? Home Economics? Embroidery? No. Don’t tell me, Liberal Arts and Science.”
Instead of getting under her skin, as he’d been trying, she only smiled at him and shook her head. “Earth and Environmental Science. I wanted to be involved in land-use planning and environmental management one day. Even spent a summer in Costa Rica. The way they’ve incorporated conservation techniques while maintaining economic sustainability is commendable.” She sighed and scrunched up her nose in distaste. “Now I’m resigned to making sure the charitable events I’m on the board for have appropriate recycling receptors and limit themselves to serving shrimp as an appetizer only twice a year.” She glanced over at him and added, “You have no idea the ecological devastation shrimping has on the oceans.”
Okay. She’d shocked the hell out of him. He was suitably impressed. “So how come you’re not doing anything with your education?”
She shrugged. “Emily Vaughn envisioned something else for her daughter.”
She was silent another moment, as if trying to decide how much more of herself she wanted to share with him. He shut the laptop, letting her know she had his attent
ion. She smiled a little wistfully. “After I graduated and returned home, I had ambition. I even took the LSAT, like Kate, and was accepted into the U’s law school. I was going to focus on environmental law, maybe be a lobbyist or something.”
He nodded, encouraging her to continue. “What happened?”
“Just one crisis after another, starting with my grandmother dying—a woman my mother avoided like the plague when she was alive. Her death sent her into a spiraling depression. With her incapacitated, I found myself putting off law school and stepping into her shoes for the next year, thinking it would still be waiting for me later. But I did such a great job with the functions I helped host, and they needed new blood so badly, I found it hard to untangle myself from those obligations. And I have to be honest, it was fun and liberating at first, not having to worry about the next exam or research project, staying out late and sleeping in until well past noon. I was frivolous and stupid and…”
She stopped, considering her words. Finally she shook her head, almost in disgust and sighed. “I guess, when I put it like that, I can’t blame my mother entirely for the course my life has taken. I could have said no. But it was so much easier going along with the tide than fighting it. And then Brad came back home and I starting seeing him, which made both of our parents ecstatic, and I got wrapped up in having the perfect life with him and”—she darted a glance his way—“you can see how well that went.”
“So what are you now, twenty-seven? Twenty-eight?”
“Twenty-nine.” She definitely sounded disgruntled about that.
“Twenty-nine, then. It’s not like you’re in your fifties and are just now seeing Brad for who he is and having to get back out there and reinvent yourself. You’re still young. You can still go to law school, have a career. If you wanted to.” Look at him. He’d become Payton Vaughn’s own virtual cheerleader.
“Maybe,” she said, not sounding particularly convinced.
“Well, what else have you got to do? Host more tea parties?” Ouch, that sounded harsher than he intended.
She laughed, though, unfazed. “You know, it’s only been twenty-four hours since the life I thought I was going to have was ripped out from under me. Give me a little time to recover. We can’t all be ambitious business men and women trying to earn a profit equal to the gross capital of—of Chile.”
He smiled. He couldn’t help it. “I can assure you, that is not my goal. I just want to see my family’s company reach the level of respect and profit that it’s due.”
“Yeah. About that. As Kate and Dominic tell it, you’re obsessed with some new deal that’s going to put the company on the map. Is that what you’re working on now?”
“Yes, and if I nail this thing, the future will definitely be looking up for Sorensen Construction.”