Page 219 of Wicked Fantasies

“Damn you,” she screamed, well aware of the scene they were making in the lobby, but uncaring. The ding of the elevator caused her to renew the fight, knowing her chances of escape would be severely limited if he got her back to the penthouse. Again, she felt his hand come down on her buttocks.

“Ouch,” she squealed, “that hurts.”

“Then stop fighting me,” he said. “I’m going to talk to you and I don’t give a damn if I have to tie you to a chair and gag you to make you listen.”

“Oh, no, Rob Madison,” she yelled, her voice mocking as she said his true name, “you listen to me. I’m leaving. Let me down right this second!”

Rob ignored her request as they entered the elevator and she continued to struggle, feeling more and more trapped as the elevator rose. Too soon, the elevator arrived at the top floor and Rob carried her quickly down the hall to his penthouse. His penthouse--not the company he worked for--the company he owned. Meg’s anger returned full-force.

As soon as he shut the door behind them, he set her on her feet, bracing himself for her attack. If Meg hadn’t been so furious, she would have laughed at the sight of a man the size and stature of Rob Madison preparing himself for the blows of a woman who barely came up to his shoulder.

“How dare you!” she yelled, raising her fist and pummeling his chest. “Who the hell do you think you are to manhandle me like that? You lying, conniving bastard!”

He winced at her words and blows and Meg felt a sense of déjà vu as she lost control of her temper and her tongue, much like she did her first night on the island.

“You’re right,” he admitted softly. “I am a liar. I lied to you.”

“You’re damn right you did and right from the beginning,” she pointed out stupidly, backing away from him. She was still finding it hard to catch her breath around the lump that had lodged in her throat. Rob had lied to her. She trusted him and he lied. Finally, her voice broke around the question she had to have answered, “Why? Why would you do that?”

“You didn’t recognize me,” he said simply.

“So?” Meg asked, perplexed, her anger returning. “What, did that piss you off? Are you so used to everyone knowing your face that you wanted to punish me for not worshipping at your billion dollar feet?”

“Good God, no. I liked that you didn’t know me.”

Confused, Meg just continued to stare, waiting for him to explain.

“For the first time in my life, I was able to get to know someone and to let them get to know me without my name and fortune influencing things.”

“That makes no sense,” Meg added.

“Maybe not to you Meg. No doubt the friendships you’ve formed were made based on mutual interests and compatible personalities and those relationships were built on trust. I constantly question the motives of the people who call themselves my friends because most people of my acquaintance don’t give a shit about me, only what I can give them. You met Shelly and Tara—they are two prime examples of the type of women who travel in my circles. Shallow, self-centered, spoiled to excess.”

“But you aren’t like that,” Meg said, his powerful words chiseling their way through her wall of anger. His pain was palpable and she found herself wanting to reach out to him despite the fact he’d lied to her, hurt her.

“Ah, but there is the rub, my sweet Meg. Until I met you, I fear I was exactly like that.”

“I don’t believe that,” she said, before turning away. She was livid with this man and yet here she stood defending him, reassuring him. Was she a glutton for punishment or what? If she had a brain in her head, she would get the hell out of here and leave the poor little rich boy to his own devices. But then a memory formed. The image of Rob following her into the bar Thursday night, offering her a drink and a place to stay. Offering to help her, despite the fact she looked like a drowned rat. Despite the fact she attacked his driver and then him. No, she thought, he wasn’t like Shelly and her family. No matter what he might say, there was a lot of good in him. For all her faults, she considered herself to be a very good judge of character and despite his lie; she thought Rob was one of the kindest, most genuine men she had ever met.

Turning around, she saw Rob still standing silently by the door, no doubt thinking he could bar her escape. His head was bowed and she saw how much her anger was costing him. Maybe there wasn’t such a thing as love at first sight. She didn’t deny their original attraction could be called anything other than lust. But somehow, somewhere, in the midst of all that lust, love had come. It was just as he had said. By getting to know him, by learning his personality, and figuring out what made him tick, the love had grown. His compassion and generosity spoke to her. His sweet words and compliments warmed her lonely heart. He said she saw the true man behind the name, but he also saw the true Meg, the one she kept buried deep beneath the boring, sensible parts. The one who longed to live, to see the world, to love him.

Love him.

Taking a small step forward, she swallowed her wounded pride and approached him with her heart in her hands.

“I love you,” she whispered, silently wondering if anyone had ever sincerely offered him those words before.

Staggering back against the door,Rob’s head jerked up. His mind was sure his ears had deceived him. For a second, he thought, no he dreamed that Meg told him she loved him. Looking up, he saw the same look in her eyes he’d come to covet as the days passed. The look he considered more valuable than all his property, all his possessions, all his money. Love. She loved him. Her lower lip trembled slightly and he realized how much courage it must have taken for her to confess her feelings to him. Once again, he had done nothing to deserve the trust she constantly bestowed upon him.

Falling to his knees before her, he grasped her small hands in his own. “I love you, Meg and I’m so sorry. Sorry for everything. I promise if you will give me a second chance, there will never be anything, but total honesty between us.”

Her light, tinkling laugh fell over him like a glorious waterfall and he watched as she kneeled down to join him on the floor.

“Rob, I understand why you lied and there is nothing to forgive. You gave me a wonderful gift this weekend. You gave me yourself, the true you. Your name doesn’t matter.”

“What about the money?” he asked, gravely.

“That doesn’t matter, either,” she replied seriously. “It’s just paper, honey. And that’s not what makes me love you. It’s you, the real you, that owns my heart.”

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