Unwrapping the Playboy (6 page)

“I thought I was supposed to pay you,” Lilli said drily. And then she made the only logical assumption from the look of surprise on his face. “You forgot I was coming by with the papers, didn't you?”

He hadn't forgotten. How could he? Lilli had been on his mind all afternoon, creeping, entirely unbidden,
into his thoughts. During the court case, images of Lilli, past and present, kept materializing in his mind's eye. Being on his game had been particularly difficult this afternoon.

“I ordered takeout,” he told her. “I thought the delivery boy would be here before you.”

“More restaurant food?” she asked as she entered. She made it personal before she could think not to. “Don't you ever have anything healthy to eat?”

“Pizza's healthy,” he countered, arguing like a true lawyer. “It has all the major food groups,” he said when she looked at him skeptically. “Cheese, tomatoes, meat, bread,” he enumerated.

“And a ton of salt.” And that negated anything good the pizza might have to bring to the table.

“That's what makes it edible.”

For a moment, she was propelled back into the past. The past when she had finally succeeded in banking down her demons and had thought that maybe, just maybe, she would be able to find a little happiness with Kullen.

Before the roof caved in on her world and she discovered she was pregnant.

The next beat, the moment was gone.

“What do you have in your refrigerator?” she asked. Maybe she could come up with some kind of dinner for him. Almost anything was better than pizza, temptingly aromatic though it was.

“Shelves.”

It was hard not to laugh. “Anything on those shelves?”

He thought for a second, envisioning the inside of the refrigerator the last time he'd looked. “A couple of
leftover takeout things that I'm debating donating to science.”

She grinned, oblivious to the fondness that had slipped into her voice. “You never learned how to cook, did you?”

There was nothing wrong with that. He knew lots of people who didn't cook. That was why God had made restaurants.

“Never saw the purpose,” he told her. “Besides, most days I either order in or go out for lunch. Same applies to dinner.”

She shook her head. “It's not healthy to live like that.” The doorbell rang and he went to answer it. “The people in Tibet don't eat takeout and they live a very long life,” she said, refusing to let up, “subsisting on yogurt and vegetables.”

He laughed shortly. “It's not a long life, it only
seems
like a long life because they can't find a decent steak.”

This time, it was the delivery boy with his pizza. Kullen handed him the money, then took possession of the extra-large pizza. He turned around and closed the door with his back.

“I ordered pizza with everything,” he told her, carrying it back to the dining room on the other side of the family room. “You see something you don't like, just take it off.”

She tried not to think what a loaded phrase that actually was. “What if I don't like anything on it?” Lilli posed.

Kullen never missed a beat. “More for me.” He set
the box down on the dining room table. “But I seem to remember that pizza was your weakness.”

No, you were my weakness,
she thought.
But that Lilli had to disappear a long time ago.

Kullen opened the box and the aroma, already leaching out of the box by any means possible, now robustly filled the air, arousing her dormant taste buds.

“It does smell good,” she conceded.

“Help yourself,” he said, gesturing toward the oil-soaked box. “I'll get the plates and napkins.”

“I'll get them,” she offered. It was the least she could do. “Just tell me where the kitchen is.”

“You can't miss it. It's the only room with a refrigerator in it,” he deadpanned. And then, when she kept on looking at him, he pointed over to the area just beyond the living room.

“Wise guy.”

A sense of déjà vu washed over him as he watched Lilli disappear around the corner. It brought with it a host of warm, soft memories that in turn aroused feelings that had long since slipped into exile.

Don't go there, don't go there,
he warned himself.

But he knew that was easier said than done. He'd al ready crossed the line once. And each time it would get easier.

And all the more difficult to come back.

T
hey were doing justice to the pizza. Kullen had a hunch that they would. It was almost like old times.

Almost.

It would be easy, so seductively easy, to let his guard drop. To allow that feeling to overtake him, the one that had whispered that this was like old times—the times when he had struggled so hard to create and win. And finally had.

He had fallen for her the very first moment he'd ever laid eyes on her. The first time he'd glimpsed her face with its regal, aristocratic lines and felt his stomach muscles tighten into a knot so hard, he could scarcely breathe. There was no question in his mind that Lilli McCall was easily the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen.

But back then, his “pre-shallow period” as Kate referred to it, it had taken more than just looks, no matter
how incredible, to captivate him. What had drawn him in was the sadness in her eyes. It made him ache for her and want to erase her pain. He had launched a full-scale, albeit subtle campaign to get to know her, to get close to her, a feat his best friend at the time, Gil Davis, had warned him was doomed to failure. Gil had had his finger on the pulse of the campus social circles and he'd said that Lilli McCall was a loner, a serious, self-contained fortress. Word was that
no
one really got close to her.

It was a challenge Kullen couldn't refuse.

And the more he'd worked at getting closer, the more he'd found his own defenses going down. In the space of a few days Lilli had stopped being a challenge and had begun being someone he just wanted to help. Someone he was determined to get to trust him. They'd had several classes together and had been in the same study group. The latter had turned out to be his first triumph with her.

“C'mon,” he'd urged her cheerfully and relentlessly. “Law school's tough. This is a communal effort to help us all survive. What one of us doesn't know, maybe some one else does. It's a give-and-take situation.” It had been his eyes that had held her, he'd later discovered, not any physical touch of the hand, something that she'd avoided religiously then. “You can't deny us the benefit of your brain, can you?” he remembered coaxing.

When she'd finally, somewhat reluctantly agreed to study with him, he had wanted to shout his victory from the rooftops, but prudently refrained, pretending to take it all in stride.

That had been the real beginning. The beginning of
what in time had turned out to be an all-too-short relationship that had, on the outside, held such promise.

He could still remember the first time he'd made her smile, the first time he'd heard the sound of her laughter.

And the first time she hadn't stiffened when he'd kissed her.

There was no way to measure the intensity of the feelings he'd had for her. Feelings he would have bet his life were returned. In the short time they were together, he'd bared his soul to her and caught just the tiniest glimpses of hers. It had by no means been a balanced exchange, but that was okay. With Lilli things were different, all the rules were thrown out and new ones had taken their place. He was fine with taking the tiny, baby steps. As long as they eventually led to his goal.

He'd been so sure, so very sure that they would.

Which was why his entire world had fallen apart when she had disappeared from his life.

At first, he'd thought that Lilli had been kidnapped. He was incredibly, stupidly certain that the woman he loved above everything else on earth wouldn't have just taken off on him. Especially not after he'd proposed to her.

But she had.

Lilli had just disappeared, leaving a note on his desk. The note had fallen on the floor between the wastepaper basket and his desk. He hadn't found it until, lost in a frenzy of frustration and helpless anger, he'd kicked the wastepaper basket aside. Falling over, it had spilled its contents, but it was then that he'd seen the small white
note card with two words in her handwriting. Two words that twisted a knife right into his chest.

“I'm sorry.” That was all she'd written. Just, “I'm sorry.” And that was supposed to explain her departure and compel him to go on living his life. A life that no longer contained her.

Sitting opposite Lilli now in his dining room, a room he rarely used except when he needed to spread out a massive collection of legal papers, it all came back to him with the force of a detonating bomb. Everything he'd felt, everything he'd gone through with her and then, without her. The good, the bad and, finally, the anger. He'd been a fool because he'd loved her and would have done anything for her. She hadn't cared enough to explain things face-to-face.

But now, after all these years, he had his answer. He knew why she'd left.

Even so, he wanted to ask her why she'd tossed him aside like some kind of used tissue, without the courtesy of an explanation.

Without a chance to fight for her and prove he was the better man.

The words vibrated on his lips. But after all this time, he had his answer. It was cruelly obvious. Lilli had abandoned him for Erik Dalton, the only heir to an incredible fortune that he had done nothing to deserve. The rumor was that he had never been turned down, especially not by a woman. A morally bankrupt playboy who was the very poster child for the stereotypical rich kid with a heart of lead, Erik Dalton had gotten every woman he had ever set his sights on.

All he had to do was crook his finger and women
fell from the sky, eager for his attention, eager to have some of his generosity touch their lives. He went through money as if it was of no consequence to him. There was always more.

Was that it? Kullen wondered now. Had Lilli been blind ed and won over by the allure of materialistic goods? He'd always seen her as pure and unfazed by material wealth. It was obvious now that he'd been blind ed, too. Blinded by his feelings.

Had
there been a price tag on her affections after all?

The Lilli McCall he'd loved so fiercely had been an honorable woman. But then, the Lilli he'd loved would have never abruptly left him with a marriage proposal still warm on his lips.

“Why are you fighting this?” he asked her quietly, without preamble.

Polishing off her third slice of pizza and finally feeling full, Lilli looked up at him sharply. The question had come out of the blue and she didn't know what he was referring to. The first thing that occurred to her by “this” was that the feelings were still there, carefully encased in Bubble Wrap and stored away. Feelings that belonged exclusively to him.

So Lilli waited for him to elaborate and prayed that she could answer him without raking over old scars.

“I could try to broker an arrangement between you and Elizabeth Dalton for joint custody. Lay down a few ground rules—”

Lilli continued staring at him, growing more stunned. Why was he saying this? Had that dreadful woman's lawyers gotten to him, bought him off? She hadn't
thought that would be possible, but now she wasn't so sure.

Wasn't there anyplace left for her to turn to?

“No,” Lilli said firmly before he could continue, then repeated the word in a louder voice. “No!”

“Heard you the first time,” Kullen assured her matter-of-factly. And he grew serious, leaning over the table. Leaning closer to her. His eyes pinned her down. “Now, tell me why.”

Her eyes darted along his face, as if trying to fathom the secret behind Kullen's words. Finally, she asked, “Why what?”

“Why you're so against this when obviously, at one point, you must have been all for it. To hitch your star to the Dalton fortune.” She opened her mouth to speak but he talked louder and faster. The cynicism was impossible to miss. “I mean, the lure of all that money, the comfort it could bring—hard to imagine turning your back on all that. It had to be a whole different world for you. For anyone. The kind of money the Daltons have is the stuff that fairy tales are made of.”

Oh, God.

She pressed her hand against her abdomen, certain she was going to be sick. “They got to you, didn't they?”

Kullen's dark blue eyes were cold. Flat. And accusing. “Not to me.”

There was an allegation in his voice, and it didn't take much for her to get his drift. She began to protest. “But I don't—”

He cut her short, not wanting her to lie. “Oh, come on, Lilli. I'm your lawyer. If I'm going to be of any use
to you, you have to level with me,” he insisted sharply. Angrily. “Tell me everything.” His mouth curved cynically. “Why aren't you still part of the Dalton's happy little family?”

How could he say that to her? Did he think she was some kind of gold digger? The one person, aside from her mother, who she thought knew her, accused her of being this awful person. It hurt more than she thought possible.

Lilli pushed her chair away from the table and stood up. She had to get out of here. “I'm sorry, coming to you was a mistake.” She picked up her manila envelope. He wouldn't be needing them anymore. “This has been a waste of time for both of us—”

Kullen told himself that he should just let her walk out. It was in his best interest. Another man would have sat back and watched this little drama unfold, feeling a sense of vindication. Payback, as the old saying went, was a bitch. And she had earned her payback.

But he wasn't another man. For better or for worse, he was who and what he was: The man who had once loved Lilli McCall with his entire heart and soul. Even now, he couldn't avenge himself by leaving her to twist in the wind. She had come to him looking for help.

Kullen was on his feet, rounding the table and blocking her exit from the room. “I need the truth from you, Lilli. I need to know why someone like you would have gotten mixed up with someone like Erik Dalton in the first place. He had a reputation as the biggest womanizer around. I thought you were different—”

“I was,” she insisted. Which was why she was so
haunt ed by what had happened. Why it had been so hard for her to get past it in the first place.

His eyes narrowed as he looked right into her. Aware that he was still holding her in place, Kullen dropped his hands from her shoulders. “Convince me.”

For a long moment, she said nothing and he thought she would walk out after all. But then she sighed as she pressed her lips together. He wanted to shake her, to shout at her and demand to know why she'd slept with a man like Erik Dalton when he'd had to work so hard to get her to trust him. To get her
not
to freeze up when he touched her.

That look in her eyes was back. That look that echoed an unfathomable sadness.

Kullen wanted to hold her more than anything in the world.

But he didn't.

His hands remained at his sides. He waited for the explanation he felt he had coming to him.

There was a slight tremor in her voice as she said, “I suppose I have this coming.”

“We'll talk about that later. Answer my question, Lilli.”

Every word ached. “I didn't leave because I wanted to, Kullen.”

“Leave who?” he demanded. Was she talking about the father of her baby? Had he pushed her away when she told him she was pregnant? And why did that thought hold not the slightest bit of satisfaction for him? She'd left him and Erik had left her. That was supposed to be poetic justice. So why wasn't it? “Leave Erik?”

She stared at him. “No, leave you.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because I had to.” Her voice throbbed with anguish. “I didn't want to see your anger or your pity.” She pressed her lips together again, trying not to cry. “I couldn't deal with that.”

“You're going to have to be a little clearer than that, Lilli.” She looked as if she wanted to flee, he thought. He knew he couldn't hold her against her will, but nonetheless, the idea was tempting. More than anything, he wanted her to make him understand why things had turned out the way they had.

Every word cost her. She didn't want to look back in to the past, into the abyss of mistakes that had been made. “I didn't leave you because I was going to Erik. I left you
because
of Erik.”

“Clearer,” he instructed again, stone-faced.

The breath Lilli let out was shaky. “I was pregnant.”

Kullen's expression hardened. Every time he thought of Lilli with that worthless bastard…when their own relationship hadn't gone beyond heated kisses, at her re quest, a request he'd respected….

“We've already established that,” he said.

She didn't know how to tell him. She'd blocked all thoughts, all memory of events for so long. “The day you asked me to marry you was the best and the worst day of my life.” The word
worst
jumped up at him, lit in glaring neon lights. “Nice to know I've still got it,” he said sarcastically.

She pushed on, knowing that she had to make him understand. She was afraid that he would stand by his
word and not help her if she didn't tell him everything. But, oh, it was so hard.

“It was the best day because I found someone good, someone who could make me forget. Someone I loved.” He looked at her sharply. She pushed on. “And the worst day because I found out I was pregnant.”

As her words pierced his heart, he came to the only conclusion he could. “You mean you were seeing Erik Dalton while we—”

“No,” she retorted. “Erik
happened
before I met you and there was no ‘seeing' involved, no dating, if that's what you mean.”

Lilli stopped, momentarily too emotional to continue because she was reliving the horrible incident that had all but destroyed her life and turned her entire world up side down.

She looked as if she was going to bolt.

Not until you finish telling me.
Kullen gently put his hands on her shoulders. He could literally
feel
her anguish, could sense her being torn between telling him and keeping silent.