The Billionaire's Impulsive Lover (The Sisterhood) (18 page)

“You’re a bossy bit of goods when you’re feeling confident, aren’t you?” he asked but he took the bowl of soup and took several spoonfuls.

“Of course I am. I’m actually pretty bossy all the time, you just don’t listen to me.”

“I listen.”

Claire thought there might be a hidden meaning in that but she wasn’t exactly sure. “Besides, just think of the soup as a way to get all your strength back so you can make your next conquest. Think of all the ladies out there just waiting to be awed by your glamorous self.”

She turned her head away after saying that, because thinking of him in another woman’s arms was just too painful. She also missed the questioning look he gave her as well.

He was too tired and too miserable right at the moment to understand what she was telling him though. “Okay, you’ve had enough I guess,” she said when his eyes started to droop once again. “Go back to sleep and dream about all those lovely ladies out there waiting for you.”

She watched as his eyes closed and his body relaxed once again into sleep, furious with both him for being such a womanizing jerk, and herself for falling so hard for him.

“Dammit, why did you have to make me love you so much?” she whispered to the now silent man.

She took the half empty bowl of soup and the tea back down to the kitchen and stored them in the dishwasher along with all the rest of her baking dishes. The kitchen was clean so she went up the stairs and worked on his bedroom, pulling the sheets off the bed and tossing them into the washing machine. She vacuumed his whole house, dusted the furniture, although the house was immaculate anyway, which told her that he probably had a maid who came in to clean up his mostly empty house. When there wasn’t anything else to clean or bake, she rushed out to the store and bought up all the decorating magazines she could find. With large poster board, she went from room to room, considering the various ideas from the magazines and cutting out suggestions.

It was midnight by the time she curled up on his massive bed, now made up once again with freshly cleaned sheets. She didn’t get under the covers though, not wanting to have to wash them again tomorrow. Instead, she pulled the chenille blanket from the bottom and fell asleep cuddling Mitch’s pillow.

Chapter 11

The sun was bright and cheerful the following morning when she woke up. She knew it was going to be a cold day though so she showered and pulled on leggings and a bulky sweater. When she went in to check on Mitch, he was no longer in bed. She heard the shower running and, on the pretense of making sure he was okay, walked softly to the bathroom doorway, peeking into the lovely bathroom. Sure enough, he was doing okay, showering and standing perfectly on his own.

Taking the sheets off his bed, she tossed them into the laundry quickly, wanting to help, but also wanting to be out of his way before he came down the stairs.

She was pressing the power button on the coffee machine when he came down the stairs, looking fresh and amazingly alive, if moving a bit slower than his normal walk.

“Good morning,” she said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster while he was wearing only a pair of well worn jeans. Her eyes kept moving towards that magnificent chest of his, her hands itching to touch and feel and explore, but she knew she didn’t have that right anymore. Nor was she going to put herself through another weekend of casual sex.

“What day is it?” he asked, his voice still hoarse as he walked across the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee.

“It’s Saturday,” she said and walked out of the kitchen, away from his bare chest and the almost irresistible temptation he presented. Damn that man could make a fortune as a male model, she thought as she packed away her computer and gathered up her things, stuffing them frantically into her bag.

The horn at the front door sounded and she breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s my ride,” she called out from the great room and started moving towards the front door. “Duke’s outside chasing rabbits. I hope you feel better!” she called out.

“Claire? Where the hell are you going?” he asked, standing in the hallway.

She had one hand on the front door and she told herself not to look back, but she did. Just one more time, she thought. Just one more look before she promised never to see him again. “I’ve got to go,” she called out with artificial cheerfulness. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Stop Claire. We obviously have to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I know how these things go. Good luck!” she said and opened the door. She slammed it and raced down the front steps to the sound of his hoarse call for her to stop and explain herself but she kept on skipping down the steps, trying very hard not to appear as if she were running away from him but that’s exactly what she was doing.

The taxi was waiting at the end of the drive behind the closed gate and she slipped through the sidewalk entrance just as Mitch pulled open the front door. “Claire, stop!” he called out but she didn’t. Ducking into the cab, she slammed the door, telling the cab driver to “Go, please, as fast as you can, just go.”

The driver understood those words and pulled away with tires squealing. He spun around, driving quickly down the road and Claire refused to look out the rear view window. She’d had her last look, she wasn’t permitting herself anything more.

Back at her apartment, she dumped her bag on her bed and, ignoring the tears that were still streaming down her face, grabbed her keys and walked right back out the door. She couldn’t stay here, needing to just get out of the oppressive quiet of her apartment.

In her own car, she drove west out of the city, just needing to find open space and no one to worry her. She thought of stopping by Darcy’s place and playing with the animals, but she knew Darcy would ask questions, and the answers would be too painful to discuss right about now. She needed time before she broke the news of what she’d done. She was still too ashamed of trusting a man she never should have trusted.

Mitch was danger and sex appeal and all those absolutely yummy things that women wanted, until they got the bill and realized that he would never be with just one woman, needing the excitement of the chase. And she didn’t even really give him much of a chase! A week! She held out for one week!

She drove blindly at first, then realized she was heading back out the road she and Mitch had traveled when they were trying to find Gary that last weekend. What a huge mistake, she thought as she drove back across the bridge into the small town they’d stayed in. To the left was the restaurant with the bed and breakfast and to the right was uncharted street. Not wanting anymore heartache, she turned to the right, eventually finding herself in the middle of a small town with lots of quaint little eateries and restaurants. There were several antique shops and Claire found a parking space on the street and wandered through the shops, picking up interesting items, then putting them right back down because she realized they would look perfect in Mitch’s house and not in her apartment.

She had to get that man out of her head, she told herself as she bought several loaves of bread from a bakery, a cute hat from a consignment shop and wandered through the rest of the stores. When she reached the end of the street where the small homes started, she turned back around and decided to grab something to eat, not wanting to get sick again.

She was starving so she chose the first one that she came to, placing her treasures on the chair opposite her own, lonely chair and sighed as she picked up the menu.

“Claire?” an astonished voice interrupted her perusal of the restaurant options and she looked up, not really interested in meeting anyone she knew.

But there he stood, looking just as sweet and nice as she remembered him being. “Gary?” she demanded, anger rising as the man simply stood there, apron covering his jeans, with a notepad in one hand, a pen in the other, obviously a waiter here at the shop. “Gary? Is that really you?” she asked and stood up, not sure if she was angry or relieved.

“Claire? What are you doing all the way out here?” he asked, moving closer and looking around as if he didn’t want anyone to see him talking to her.

“I’m shopping. What are you doing?” she asked, her anger gaining traction now that he wasn’t as excited to see her as she was to see him.

“I’m here, just be quiet,” he said and moved closer, pressing her so she was once again sitting on the small chair by the window. “What brings you out here?” he asked, his nervousness increasing as he glanced to the right and left, then back to what was obviously the kitchen.

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “Well, a while ago, I was out here looking for you!”

That shocked him and his whole attention was now on her angry features. “Why would you be out here looking for me?” he asked.

“Because you told me you were a private detective, and you simply disappeared. I was worried about you. I was trying to find you and get you some help!”

Gary obviously knew that things were getting out of hand and his hands went up to try and calm her temper. “Well, thank you very much for your concern, but as you can see, I’m perfectly fine.”

She looked around. “Are you going to tell me you’re on some undercover job right now?” she asked sarcastically.

Gary watched her for a telling moment and she knew exactly when his eyes shifted, that he was going to lie to her. “Yes. I’m out here on a job. So if you’ll just cooperate and help me out of this, I’ll meet you later and explain.”

“For dinner?” she asked, wondering if he had to work the evening shift as well.

Gary hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, sure. We can grab a quick bite to eat but it has to be somewhere out of the way.”

She looked over at the kitchen and saw another man, a guy just as clean cut as Gary was and suddenly she knew what was going on. “Won’t your boss over there object to you going out with a woman?” her tone told him she knew exactly what was going on and he blushed as the realization hit him that he’d been found out.

The man from the kitchen, with an identical apron covering his jeans, walked out from the doorway and strolled casually over to her table. “Are you going to introduce us?” he asked, putting his arm around Gary’s shoulders.

Claire noticed the gesture and looked sadly at Gary. “If you’d only told me, we could have been friends. I don’t object,” she said softly.

Gary looked at her with troubled eyes. “I’m sorry, Claire. I wasn’t fair to you,” he explained.

She bent down and gathered up her purchases. “No. You weren’t. And what’s more, I was a fool to believe what you told me when everything you’ve said was a lie.”

The other man looked suspiciously between Gary and Claire, trying to figure out what was going on. “Gary? Can you tell me what she’s talking about?” he asked.

Gary turned to the man and shook his head. “Kevin, can you give me a moment?” he asked.

Kevin hesitated, then nodded his head and walked back to the kitchen. Claire continued to gather up her loaves of bread and other treasures, ignoring Gary as he turned back to her. “Claire, you’ve got to understand what our relationship meant to me.”

She shook her head. “No Gary. I don’t. What I need to do is stop trusting men and realize that I’m a horrible judge of the trustworthiness of your gender. You have no idea what I did to try and find you. And when I met a man who was going to help…” she started to tell him about Mitch but the subject was too painful, “Well, suffice it to say, that I sincerely hate you for your dishonesty. I was worried about you, I committed crimes to try and find you. And you’ve been out here all this time. I don’t care that you’re gay. I care that you lied to me about it and got me to trust you. That’s the real issue. So go ahead and hide behind your closet issues all you want. Just leave me out of it!”

She marched out of the diner, hurt and angry and aching all over. The tears were flowing once again, not because she’d found Gary and he was a liar. But because she knew she really couldn’t trust her instincts when it came to men. She’d fallen for two guys, both of whom she should have avoided like the plague and she had no one to blame but herself because she was simply too trusting, too naïve, too pathetic.

Shoving her purchases into her Mini, she slammed the car door shut and drove off, still not sure where she was going, but anywhere that took her away from yet another man she trusted when she shouldn’t have.

“Dammit!” she cried out with fury.

When it got dark, she pulled into the first decent hotel she could find and got herself a room. She had no change of clothes, but didn’t care. Tired of caring, tired of trying to do the right thing, she ordered a pizza to be delivered to her room, one with extra cheese, extra pepperoni and absolutely no olives, she sat in front of the television eating pizza, drinking diet cokes and watching one movie after another.

She fell asleep curled up in a ball watching Mel Gibson shoot someone for some reason, then push a house off a cliff.

Sunday morning was dreary and sad looking outside. And after eating almost the entire pizza the previous night, Claire didn’t feel very cheerful herself.