Lie to Me (Pearl Island Trilogy #4)(49)

“For saving your life?” That drew him up short and he had the grace to look shamed. Scrambling to her feet, she clenched her fists. “I don’t need your forgiveness. You used me!”

“Believe whatever you like.” Shivering more violently, he wrapped his arms about himself. “I hope I never see you again.”

The words stunned her as much as the pain they caused, like a hit to her heart. She had more cause for affront than he did. “I wish you’d never come here!”

“This isn’t over,” he snarled. “You may have destroyed my sketchpad, but I won’t let you keep my grandmother’s necklace.”

“You think I care about the necklace?” she shouted. Hadn’t he heard her that morning? She cared about what the necklace represented. What she’d thought it represented. Anguish tore through her as she realized he’d ripped that away from her, right after he’d used her, and nothing was going to bring back that feeling of belonging. “I don’t even want it anymore. But I refuse to help you get it.”

“I’ll get it without your help.”

“I don’t care!” She struggled not to cry. “Just get away from me!”

Somehow she managed to stand there, fists clenched as he turned and marched up the trail. She waited until he disappeared around the corner of the inn before she dropped to the beach, rocking back and forth with her face buried against her knees.

A sob racked her body as she realized she’d lost everything. The necklace. Her sense of acceptance. Her hope for a future with a man she’d thought she could trust.

Tipping her head toward the sky, she welcomed the rain. It let her cry as hard as she wanted without anyone seeing her tears.

~ ~ ~

The scene on the pier played through Chloe’s mind for days. Once the shock of seeing those drawings subsided, she had time to wonder over her reaction to them. Questions started to surface, leaving her caught in a tug-of-war between anger and regret.

She remembered the accusations she’d hurled at him, and the way he’d insisted it hadn’t happened the way she thought.

Typical defense of a guilty man, she silently scoffed. Baby, it’s not what you think.

Gradually, though, some small voice started to ask, what if it wasn’t?

What if Luc hadn’t come to Pearl Island with premeditated seduction in mind?

Okay, yes, he’d fantasized about her when he was a boy. And yes, he’d probably been pretty jazzed about the idea that he could fulfill that fantasy, but was that so awful? Wasn’t physical attraction part of dating? Weren’t people supposed to be excited at the idea of getting naked together? She’d certainly been excited about the thought of being with him.

What made his actions wrong was motive and deception.

But what if all those things she thought she’d seen in his eyes had been real? Her stomach trembled when she remembered how he’d looked at her, as if he was awestruck. As if he was falling in love with her.

If those looks had been real, then she’d seriously overreacted to the drawings. They’d been done by an adolescent boy exploring sexuality the way all teenagers did when hormones started kicking in. The adult Luc had been nothing but respectful, listening intently and getting to know her as a person before they’d made love. If he still saw her as a sex object, the way she’d appeared in those drawings, would he have bothered to share so much about his past? So much of himself?

Maybe honest attraction really was why Luc hadn’t told her about the necklace.

Well, if that was the case, her chances at a relationship with him had gone flying into the cove right along with the sketchpad. Remorse filled her at the thought.

Until she remembered those drawings. He’d turned her into a sex object, and he’d profited from those sketches. He could go blue in the face telling her “that’s not how it was,” but men lied all the time. What was she supposed to believe?

By the time she was packing for the trip to New Orleans, she’d fluctuated between remorseful and livid more times than she could count. Knowing what lay ahead added extra fuel to her anxiety as she went through her closet and debated what to pack.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Answering it, she found Allison on the front porch. Surprise came first at her aunt’s unexpected appearance, then worry. “Is everything all right?”

“Everything’s fine,” Allison assured, smiling. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.” Chloe stepped back.

“I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”

“No, I’m just packing. If you don’t mind, I need to keep at it.”

“Not at all.” Allison followed her into the bedroom, then glanced at the empty suitcase lying on the bed. “How are you feeling about the trip?”

“Resigned,” Chloe sighed, going back to the closet. She’d already considered and rejected several outfits. “I’ve come up with a mantra, though, and I plan to repeat it whenever I feel like screaming.” She touched her thumbs and middle fingers together and closed her eyes. “‘Stay calm and this will all be over soon.’”

“Well, I’m glad I’m catching you in a Zen mood.”

“I didn’t say it was working,” Chloe countered. “Just that it’s my game plan.” Seeing Allison’s worried expression, she tipped her head. “What’s up?”