Carly Phillips - Secret Fantasy

“He’s a reporter,” Stuart said firmly. “And if he’s been spending time with you down here under false pretenses, he’s a liar as well.”

“You’re one to talk,” she muttered. “Doug’s a…writer,” she said, her stomach plummeting once more. He’d followed in his adopted father’s footsteps, he’d said. “And his family?” Juliette asked in a soft voice. “Are they reporters, too?”

“Journalists through and through. Are you satisfied now?”

She believed him but she was by no means satisfied. Betrayal twisted her insides and self-disgust took hold. When would she learn? She was not a good judge of character when it came to men. She never had been, never would be.

Juliette lowered herself into the nearest chair. “Go away, Stuart. You came and made your point. Doug is a Tribune reporter and the last person I should reveal my secrets to. And now that I know he’s as much a lying snake as you are, you have nothing to worry about, right?”

Pure relief washed over his face. If the situation didn’t make her feel so pathetic on her part, she’d have laughed out loud.

He stepped toward her and knelt down. “You have to know I never meant to hurt you. We were friends and I thought we could have a good life.”

She shook her head. “I have nothing more to say. That ought to make you ecstatic, right?” She waved a hand, dismissing him.

“You’re smart, Juliette. You always were. And you love your father. In this case, that combination will serve you well.” His implicit threat made, and apparently having gotten what he came for, Stuart was happy to be gone, leaving Juliette alone with the painful truth.

She’d fallen in love with another man who’d used her for his own selfish ends. Ever since his original article was printed, then retracted, Douglas Houston’s name wasn’t worth squat. Another lovely word courtesy of her sister’s students. But one that fit. And Juliette had just foolishly given Doug back his entry into Chicago’s political circles.

She’d given him the information he needed to back up his original story and clear his muddied name. Information that would crucify Stuart and his partners, and set herself up as a walking target should any of them discover that, not only could she connect them, but she’d blabbed their secrets as well.

DOUG WATCHED Barnes’s retreat. His heart in his throat, he decided to give Juliette a few minutes to digest the information and pull herself together before facing him. It was the least he could do.

Hell, he needed to do the same. He’d been too damn complacent, Doug thought. Too sated by their incredible lovemaking and then caught up in his mother’s concerns over his father’s health.

He’d been distracted, which had dulled his reporter’s instincts, and he’d never expected to come upon Stuart Barnes and Juliette. Having locked the doors when he ran inside earlier, he’d never thought she’d head out to the patio alone. He hadn’t been thinking, period.

And when the sound of conversation drifted toward him from outside, Doug prayed he’d find the waiter serving breakfast. He wasn’t so lucky. He’d stepped closer to discover Stuart Barnes had paid Juliette a visit.

Though Doug hated ceding control, he’d quickly realized he had no choice. Should he make himself known, he’d risk Barnes jumping to the correct conclusion-that Juliette had already spilled her news. So he opted to wait and take his case to Juliette later when they were alone. Opted to allow her to make clearheaded decisions without his presence distracting her. So he’d remained out of sight, knowing he could protect her if the need arose. But nothing could alleviate the feeling of helplessness he’d suffered as truths that should have come from him were revealed in a way that gave Doug no chance for damage control. He’d listened as his future had been slowly but surely destroyed.

He had to admit Juliette had given her faith in him her best shot. His gut had clenched as she’d attempted to deny Barnes’s claims-an admirable defense of a not-so-admirable man, Doug thought in disgust.

He’d wanted to put her first. He’d wanted to be able to look himself in the mirror. He shook his head. He’d never be able to face himself again.

Hell, facing Juliette now would be the beginning of his life-long punishment-a life that didn’t include her. He stepped out of the shadows and into the direct sunlight on the terrace. “Juliette.”

She swung toward him, her normally bright eyes dull, her expression blank. “It seems we haven’t been formally introduced,” she said, rising from her seat. “We both already know who I am.” She extended her hand but remained stiff and formal.

His stomach twisted, but not knowing what else to do, he placed his palm inside hers.

Like she was facing a stranger, she pumped his hand firmly in a cold grip, then released him. “I’d say it was nice to meet you, Mr. Houston, but that would be a lie.” Hurt, betrayal and disbelief were all evident in her gaze.

But one thing was more painful than the rest. After all they’d shared and as intimate as they’d been, not only did Juliette look at him as if she’d never seen him before, but she looked as if she couldn’t stand the sight of him.

“I’d like to explain.”

She glanced away. “The obvious needs no explanation. At least that’s what my dad always says. Then he lets us explain anyway, so you might as well go ahead.” She waved a hand dismissively, as if he were a child wanting to justify bad behavior.

Which, he supposed, he was. He reached for her hand and she stepped back from his grasp. Frustrated, he shook his head. “Why do I get the feeling nothing I say will make a damn bit of difference?”

“Should it?” Juliette paced the ground of the small patio. “Why don’t I make it easy for you? You had a story to tell and your name to clear. I had the information. Simple.”

“If you think back I never once pumped you for that information.”

She rolled her eyes. “As if you had to. I made it so easy.”

“It’s called sharing, Juliette. You said it yourself. We shared the most important things in our lives-my childhood and your recent past. I’m a reporter but I never asked you one leading question. Don’t you want to know why?”

She studied him but he couldn’t read anything in her closed expression. His heart pounded furiously in his chest as he grasped onto his last chance. “I love you.”

A flash of emotion lit her eyes along with a sheen of tears. “Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.” She drew an unsteady breath. “But I do have to admit one thing.”

Ridiculous hope flared in his chest. “What’s that?”

“Not only does your reputation precede you, but you should be proud. You’re damn good at your job.”

Doug clenched his jaw, pain radiating straight to his head. He’d bared his soul and she didn’t believe him. Not that he blamed her. She was right. He’d done his job too damn well.

“Juliette…”

“Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter.” She swung around, placing her back toward him.

He could have dealt with anger, disapproval or outright accusation but he got none of those. Instead he received apathy-the one thing he couldn’t fight. The one thing that would keep him at arm’s length now and maybe for good.

“Can you just leave?” She wrapped her arms around herself, protecting herself from him.

No matter how much he knew he was the last person who would hurt her, she’d never believe him. At least not now.

“I want you to understand something first. I came for a story about your ex. I never intended to hurt you. Never planned to use you…” he said, his voice trailing off, knowing how lame his words sounded.

And knowing despite his best intentions, using her was exactly what he’d done, exactly what he’d planned, no matter how he’d excused it at the time.

And if he’d thought beyond his own needs he’d have realized hurting her was inevitable. “I’ll go.”

If she deserved nothing else from him, she deserved to have her wishes granted. She deserved to have him gone.

JULIETTE TOSSED the last item of clothing into her suitcase, then zipped it closed. Let loose and be yourself, she thought with disgust. She’d come to a conclusion that had nothing to do with self-pity, just fact-apparently it didn’t matter if she played the dutiful daughter, the politician’s fiancé or Juliette Stanton the woman, all were ripe for being used.

When a knock sounded at her door, Juliette exhaled a sigh of relief. She’d booked an evening flight back to Chicago today and had called for someone to bring her luggage to the main part of the hotel. But instead of a bellman, she found Merrilee on the other side of the door.

“I understand you’re checking out early,” the older woman said. Questions and compassion mixed in her gaze.

“My plans changed.” Juliette stepped back and let her visitor inside.

“Life rarely goes according to plan.”

She shook her head and laughed. “You can say that again.” She hadn’t expected to fall hard for any man, especially another one who’d lied to her from the outset.

“Would you believe me if I told you that the unexpected often works out better than anything you’d planned?”

“At this moment? Probably not.” Juliette forced a laugh and started to cry instead. The emotion she’d held in check for the last couple of hours came rushing out, sweeping over her in full force.

Merrilee put a hand on her back and Juliette attempted to wipe away her concerns as easily as she could swipe a hand over her eyes and dry her tears. But neither could be dismissed so easily and she found herself reliving her fantasy by confiding everything about the past few days to Merrilee.

“I feel ridiculous,” Juliette said when she was done, sniffing and grabbing for a tissue.

“I don’t know why. We’ve all been through bad times. But why are you so sure Doug didn’t mean what he said? ‘I love you’ isn’t something a man says easily.”

“It is in my experience,” she muttered.

“Your ex-fiancé?” Merrilee asked.

Juliette nodded. “Stuart’s ‘I love you’ was a way to make himself a part of my family and keep himself in my father’s good graces.”

“And Doug’s? I admit I only know what I see, but he genuinely seems to care about you.”

“He also wanted something from me.”

“Which he got. And has yet to use,” Merrilee reminded her.

“Yet being the operative word.”

Merrilee patted her hand. “There’re many ways to tell a story. Do you want my advice?”

Juliette nodded. With her sister and parents too far away to help, Juliette would take whatever advice this kindhearted woman wanted to give.

“Keep an open mind and, most importantly, an open heart,” she said, her eyes fathomless, seemingly wiser than her years. “Are you sure I can’t persuade you to stay longer?”

Juliette let out a sigh. “No. As beautiful as this place is, I really do need to get home. I’ve been sitting on some things too long and need to take action.” She debated telling Merrilee about Stuart and decided against it. Fate worked a certain way for a reason. At least now Juliette was in possession of all the facts.

“Well, I hope in time you’ll look back on your stay here fondly,” her hostess said.

“Believe it or not, I already do.” At the very least, she’d learned plenty about herself and her ability to open up and trust, even if it had been with the wrong man.

But if he was so wrong for her, then why did the pained look in his eyes linger in her memory along with his words? I never intended to hurt you. I never intended to use you.

I love you-the last said long after his lies had been exposed. She hugged her arms around her waist. Long after he’d walked out, leaving her alone as she’d requested, she’d replayed every moment of their time on the island in her head. Every touch, every kiss, every intimate conversation.

No question he’d come to Secret Fantasy with an agenda, but could his feelings have shifted midcourse? Hers most certainly had. “Merrilee?”

Her hand on the door, the other woman turned. “Yes?”

“Do you have any regrets in life?”

She nodded. “Not having had the chance to follow my heart.”

Her words rung in Juliette’s ears long after Merrilee let herself out. I love you. Lord knew, his lies aside, Juliette loved him. But she’d been taken in twice. Both so recent she still had the scars to show for her misplaced faith. How could she even think about trusting the words and expressions of a man whose lips and eyes had already deceived her?

IF FLYING from Secret Fantasy to Miami, from Miami to Chicago, and Chicago to Washington D.C., all in forty-eight hours, was enough to prove love, Doug would have Juliette in his arms by now. Unfortunately, Juliette had gotten a head start and the last seat on the last flight out of Miami. After hours of waiting in airports and too little sleep, Doug prepared himself to face Senator Stanton’s secretary and then the senator himself.