Lie to Me (Pearl Island Trilogy #4)(62)

A conflicted longing that matched his own filled her eyes. “I want to believe you.”

“Why is it so hard?” He fought the urge to touch her.

“Because of the way most boys, and men, act,” she said softly, without heat.

“You already know I’m not like the boys you were friends with in school. Maybe I’m not like the other men you’ve known either.”

“I think you might be different.” She leaned toward him almost imperceptibly, but he felt it. “How can I be sure, though?”

“I don’t know,” he said, longing to hold her but at a loss for what to say, what to do to make that happen. “Spend time with me?”

“You’re willing to do that?” The space between them seemed to shrink.

He started to say yes and pull her into his arms, surprised that fury over the destruction of his sketchpad didn’t swamp him. What if she was telling the truth, and she really hadn’t thrown it? Maybe it had been the storm, a ghost, or his colliding with her that had sent the pad flying. Unfortunately, whatever the truth, that moment had seriously damaged his chances of winning his claim with the Historical Commission. “Are you willing to help me get my grandmother’s necklace back?”

She exhaled, drawing back. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” He scowled. “All you have to do is make a statement to my lawyer saying you saw the drawing in the sketchpad and it matched the necklace exactly. Having you support my claim could go a long way.”

“Couldn’t anyone on your team give the same testimony?”

“No.” He scowled at the question. “I never showed that sketchpad to anyone but you.”

“You didn’t?” She blinked in surprise.

“Of course not.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You thought other people saw those drawings?”

“I assumed—”

“No,” he assured her, understanding her anger better. “Chloe, those drawings were private. The only one I would have shown was the drawing of the necklace. Because that was the best evidence I had.”

“What about testimony from other family members? Or friends?”

“My lawyer says they might be perceived as having a vested interest in helping Mémère get the necklace,” he explained. “The testimony will be more compelling if it comes from you. Other than the graphic in Vortal, which isn’t an exact match, it’s the best chance I’ve got.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t,” she said with apology clear in her voice. She set her drink down and stepped away. Staring at her back, he tried to make sense of her refusal. Why had she come if she didn’t want to mend their rift? Finally, she turned, her expression pleading. “I know the necklace is the reason you came to Pearl Island, but I think we may have found something special while you were there. Would it be possible to set the issue of the necklace aside, and see how things go between us?”

He wanted to argue, but could see that if he pushed her, he and Chloe stood no chance of being together. If he let it go, for a while at least, maybe she would come to understand on her own how important the necklace was to him. Maybe then she would help him.

“Okay.” He nodded. “I can set the necklace aside.”

“All right.” She visibly relaxed and seemed to grow lighter. “Then, yes, spending time with you would be nice.”

She stepped back to him, looking so damned relieved.

Without thinking, he reached for her. “God, I’ve missed you so much.”

Suddenly, she was in his arms, their mouths fused, their arms wrapped tightly around each other.

“I’ve missed you, too,” she said between kisses. Her body pressed eagerly against his, making him want to sing with joy and ravage her at the same time.

A shouted taunt from one of the guys down in the arcade reminded him the door stood open. They broke the kiss, but not the embrace.

“Okay, so…” He struggled to slow his breathing. “We’ll spend time together?”

“Yes,” she said, equally breathless.

“I, um… I don’t suppose you’d be interested in going with me to a cochon de lait. There’s going to be a big one out on the bayou tomorrow.”

“A pig roast?” she asked brightly. “I’d love to.”

“Great.” He forced himself to move back, telling himself to quit while he was ahead. “Just tell me where you’re staying and I’ll pick you up in the morning.”

~ ~ ~

As Luc pulled up before the LeRoche mansion the next morning, nerves tangled in his stomach. He wanted so badly to get things right this time. Even with his lingering anger over the sketchpad, he longed to simply be with Chloe. Just be near her.

Because, wild as it seemed, he felt as if she got him. She knew who he was, and she liked him.

But did he get her?

No. He really didn’t. He didn’t understand why a woman as beautiful as Chloe, who had everything going for her, would want to be with him. When women came on to him because of his money, as the casino babes had, he got that. When gamer girls fell over themselves to impress him because he was Luc Renard, the creator of Vortal, he got that.

When Chloe Davis said she wanted to spend time with him? No, that he didn’t get. Because he couldn’t find any logic for it.