“I just want to see his face.” Alex was still doing a slow burn. “I told him I was the contact. He ignored me. That makes it personal.”

“You sure it’s not Emma that makes it personal?”

Alex slid a glance Ryan’s way.

“How was the honeymoon?” Ryan asked mildly.

“Short,” said Alex.

“You didn’t call in yesterday. Not once. Not to anyone.”

Alex retrieved his briefcase and placed the envelope inside. “No cell service.”

“No phones in the hotel.”

“We were busy.”

Ryan grinned. “It went well?”

Alex snapped the case shut. “I guess that’s irrelevant now that she knows about Kayven.”

Ryan sobered. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed, trying very hard not to care.

Sure, Emma was upset. But she’d get over it. And he had what he wanted. He had what they’d all wanted: a ring on her finger and a fifty-percent share in McKinley Inns.

And…He scooped the briefcase from the table and headed for the door. He was about to rescue the jewel in the McKinley crown and visit revenge on an annoying rival.

“You okay?” Emma whispered, walking up behind Katie and stroking the back of her soft blond hair.

Her sister was sitting on the bench seat in the bay window of the penthouse dining room, staring at the wispy clouds on the eastern horizon. The coffeemaker dripped and hissed on the countertop.

Katie nodded. “What about you?” They’d sat up most of the night talking, so Katie knew all about Alex and the honeymoon.

Emma took the other end of the bench seat, curling her legs under her robe. “My stomach aches, but I think it’s embarrassment more than anything else.”

At least that’s what she was telling herself.

She closed her eyes and sighed. Alex and Ryan and Nathaniel must all be having a good laugh at her expense. She’d fallen for his act hook, line and sinker.

“They must have been afraid I’d back out,” she whispered, leaning one elbow on the white windowsill, supported the weight of her achy, sleep-deprived head.

Thinking about it, she realized her decreasing objections to the marriage correlated to when Alex started acting as though he liked her. He’d obviously figured out really quick that she was a desperate, lonely, plain-Jane woman, ripe to fall for pretty much anybody.

And he’d used that as a way to control her. Who knew if he even wanted sex with her. Maybe he just thought she wanted sex with him. And he was willing to play the gigolo, if it meant sealing the deal.

The pretty one. He’d actually hinted she was prettier than Katie. What’s more, she’d actually started to believe him.

Alex had earned his millions through acting alone.

Katie squeezed her shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.” But her voice was too hollow to be convincing.

“I can’t divorce him,” said Emma. “I’d lose a fortune.”

“Then we’ll go away. We’ll go on a very long vacation.”

Emma nodded. She’d promised to live with Alex and hang on his arm like some kind of accessory. But that part wasn’t in writing. So he’d just have to learn to live with the disappointment.

She only hoped she could learn to live with it. Despite her resistance, she’d started to like the life he’d made up. She’d even started looking forward to that goofy McKinley-Garrison office party. And redecorating his main floor. It would have been fun to redecorate his main floor. Even if it was only temporary.

A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye.

Who was she kidding?

She’d stopped thinking about it as temporary somewhere on the hot beach at Kayven Island, along about the time Alex pretended he loved her, and she realized she loved him right back.

She inhaled a shuddering sob.

Katie wrapped her in a tight embrace. “Oh, Emma. It’s going to be okay.”

But it wasn’t going to be okay. It might never be okay again.

Twelve

Alex was going to make things right. And he was going to make Clive Murdoch regret the day he even considered crossing Alex Garrison.

He slapped the envelope down on Murdoch’s desk.

“What’s this?” the old man asked, glancing from the envelope to Alex.

“Our counteroffer.”

Murdoch’s eyes narrowed.

Alex plopped down in one of the guest chairs. “To bring you up to speed. David Cranston’s authority to negotiate for McKinley’s has been revoked.”

Murdoch’s face went from pasty to ruddy. “That’s-”

“He’s lucky he’s not in jail. You’re lucky-”

“He has a duly executed power of attorney.”

“Had. I’m the man you have to deal with now.”

Murdoch snatched up the envelope. “We’d already agreed on a price.”

Alex nodded. “That you had. And I’m willing to stick to that price, provided you agree to the in-kind contribution McKinley’s requesting.”

Murdoch peeled away the envelope and stared at the first page of the contract. Then he stared bug-eyed over the page at Alex, and his ruddy complexion turned near purple.

For a second, Alex worried the man was going to have a heart attack.

“Free staffing?”

“For all McKinley properties, around the globe, into perpetuity.”

“That’s-”

“Perfectly legal, according to my, and your former, legal team. You are, of course, free to turn it down.”

Murdoch opened his mouth, but nothing emerged except a damp squeaking sound. It took him a few seconds to recover the power of speech. “This is outrageous.”

“This is business,” said Alex, clamping his jaw. “I told you to deal with me and me alone. What’s more, I told you nothing of McKinley’s was for sale.”

“Because you wanted it for yourself.”

“That’s true,” saidAlex. “And I got it.” But things had changed.

Murdoch’s mouth twisted in an ugly sneer. “I sure hope it was worth the mercy screw.”

Alex was out of his chair in a flash, reaching across the desk and grabbing Murdoch by the collar, Ryan’s warning obliterated from his mind. “Don’t you ever dare-”

“You trying to tell me this is something other than a media-palatable land grab? Don’t waste your breath, Garrison. You know as well as I do that this deal suits nobody but you. You screwed her in more ways than one.”

Alex’s fist clenched. He wanted nothing more than to smash the self-satisfied smirk from Murdoch’s face.

Trouble was, Murdoch was right.

Alex had screwed Emma. He’d used her, and he’d lied to her. And what he’d won was a half-billion-dollar property, a ridiculous prenup that forced her to stay with a man she probably hated, and half of her business, when she could have bailed herself out financially if he’d only been honest with her.

He got what he’d set out to win. But he’d lost so much more in the process.

He slowly let Murdoch go, then sank back into his chair.

How exactly was he different than Murdoch, or even David for that matter? If Alex could go back in time, he’d tell Emma all about Kayven Island, wait for her to sell it, then romance her, no strings attached.

He almost laughed at the absurdity.

He wanted Emma more than he wanted the island, more than he wanted the money, more than he wanted anything, really. All he wanted was for Emma to redecorate his house so they could throw party after party and fill that mausoleum with life and laughter.

Well, he couldn’t have that. Not anymore. But he didn’t have to take Emma down with him.

He took a deep breath. “I’ll sell it to you,” he said to Murdoch.

“Not with free staffing, you won’t.”

“I’ll sell it to you for double the agreed-upon price, no staffing, no other conditions.”

Murdoch’s eyes narrowed.

“That’s the only offer I’m making,” said Alex. “Take it or leave it.”

He could give Emma the money, and give her back McKinley. She could bail the company out of debt, and his partners…Well, his partners would just have to learn to live with it. Worst they could do is gang up and fire him as CEO.

If they did, he’d live with it. Just as long as he’d done right by Emma.

After two days and four pints of caramel pecan dream, Emma swore to herself that she was through with grieving. She had lost, and Alex had won. And that’s the way it happened in the big bad world.

At least she still had half her company. And she and Katie could still work toward buying him out. Someday, anyway. For now, he was her partner. She wouldn’t allow herself to think of him as anything more.

She wouldn’t divorce him, but she wouldn’t live with him either. If he wanted to talk to her, he could do it at the office. Her door was always open to all of her business associates.

An associate.

Yes. She liked that term.

In fact, she almost looked forward to seeing him again. She wanted him to know she was over him, that she’d picked herself up, learned from the experience and carried on.

Katie appeared in the bedroom doorway.

“This just came for you,” she said, entering the room, holding out a cardboard envelope.

“From downstairs?” asked Emma, coming briskly to her feet. It was time to get back down to the office anyway.

“Crosstown courier,” said Katie.

Emma took the envelope and tugged on the tab. The Garrison offices return address jumped out, but she refused to let it rattle her. There’d be plenty of correspondence between her and Alex from here on in. She could handle it.

“What is it?” asked Katie as Emma’s gaze focused on the letter.

Emma read the brief paragraphs then shook her head and started over again.

“What?” Katie repeated.

The message finally sorted itself into some kind of order inside Emma’s brain. “He sold Kayven Island.”

“What?”

Emma squeezed her eyes shut, then refocused on the bank draft clipped to the top of the letter. “Alex sold Kayven Island to Murdoch.”