Undeniable (Cloverleigh Farms #2)(65)

She nodded as if she’d known. “But you love him.”

Again, I thought of giving a false answer, but I didn’t. “Yes,” I said quietly, looking down at my hands. “I can’t help it.”

“Even after what he’s done?”

I looked up at her in surprise. “What he’s done?”

“Oh my dear, you don’t survive to be ninety without becoming a pretty good judge of character. And Oliver isn’t quite the actor he thinks he is.”

“Well, he fooled me,” I admitted. “I thought he really cared about me, but all he really wanted was the money.”

“I’m not sure that’s true,” she said. “In fact, I’m fairly certain he does care for you, even more than he knows.” She paused to sigh. “Which is why I didn’t think he’d go through with that silly proposal last night. I thought by pressuring him to do it so quickly, he’d buckle and tell me the truth.”

“Oliver has a tricky relationship with the truth,” I said bitterly. “He only embraces it when it suits him.”

“You’re right about that.”

“And he’s gotten away with it his whole life!”

“We can blame his mother for that,” Gran said drily. “I love my daughter, but Jiminy Cricket, she spoiled him rotten.”

I had to laugh a little. “She did.”

“And he’s got more charm than any one man should be allowed to have.”

“Agreed,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t know what it is about him, but he gets to me every time. Even when I know he’s not playing by the rules, I—”

“Can’t help wanting to play along?” Gran winked at me. “I know just what you mean. I was married to a charmer too. What they need is a good, strong woman to keep them in line.”

I nodded. “Exactly.”

“You know, everyone thinks I’m old-fashioned and stubborn about tradition, and maybe I am, but I’m a feminist in my own way. And I think you’re right to tell Oliver to go to the devil. How dare he assume he could prop you up as his fiancée and fool me in the process?” She clucked her tongue. “What a donkey’s ass.”

The curse word made me laugh. “I agree.”

“The question is,” she went on, “what are we going to do with him? Do you think this scheme of his with the Russian rye is malarkey or the real deal?”

“I think it’s the real deal,” I said honestly. “He’s onto something.”

“So you think I should give him the money?”

I blinked at her. Was she really asking me if she should give Oliver a million dollars? “I’m not sure I’m qualified to give that answer.”

“Sure you are. Be confident. Trust your gut. If it was your money, would you buy that land?”

“Yes. I would. Oliver has done the research. He’s got talent and experience, and he knows the market. He’s made mistakes in the past,” I hedged, not wanting to say too much.

She waved a hand. “Oh, I know all about the way he burned through his money in Europe, the damn fool.”

“You do?”

She tapped her head. “Ninety. Remember?”

I laughed. “Right. Well, like I said, he’s made mistakes, and this whole fake engagement thing is the worst idea he ever had, but he knows what he’s doing. If he could get that land, he’d achieve everything he wants to, I have no doubt.”

“With or without you?”

I thought for a moment. “I don’t know. When he approached me about partnering with him, he made me feel like he needed me, but … I have no idea if he meant what he said.”

“Oh, I think he did. I heard the way he went on about you last night. And I saw the way he looked at you. That wasn’t acting. But let me ask you this.” Gran regarded me thoughtfully. “If he had the money to buy the land, would you still partner with him?”

My eyes filled, and I shook my head. “I don’t think so,” I said, my throat catching.

“Because you can’t trust him?”

“That, and … because I love him,” I whispered, unable to speak.

She nodded once. “Well, you’ve given me a lot to think about. I’ll leave you now and take my siesta as well.” She rose to her feet with such ease that I almost wondered if the cane was for show.

Gran was one sharp cookie.

At the door, she turned around. “You’ll be at dinner tonight?”

“Yes. I wanted to leave today, but my mother refused. She doesn’t know …” I trailed off.

“What’s the plan for that?” she asked.

“I told Oliver I’d keep up the act while we were here, but that he had to come clean to you all once I’d left.”

“Awfully generous of you. More generous than he deserves.”

I lifted my shoulders, feeling my throat tighten again.

“I know,” she sighed. “He’s a donkey’s ass, but he’s the donkey’s ass you love. I’ll see you this evening.”

She pulled the door shut behind her, and I was alone again.

I lay back, but I was restless and fidgety, my thoughts a jumbled mess and my feelings even more tangled up. Finally, I gave up, dug my phone from my purse, and called April.