The Determined Groom. Kate Little
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didn’t like to be reminded of her marriage. She felt a wave of sadness, futile sadness, actually. When her friends and family had heard the story of Todd’s infidelity, they had naturally rushed to support her, to make Todd out to be the villain of the piece.
But Laurel knew better. It took two to make a mess of a marriage and she had played her part.
The truth was, she should have never married Todd in the first place.
The truth was, she had been unfaithful to him even before they’d spoken their vows.
One clear-cut act of betrayal with her body, on a moonlit beach—and after that, years of betrayal in her heart, believing herself to be irrevocably in love with a man who had simply used her to fulfill some long-simmering fantasy. A man who had promised her the world, and asked—no, demanded—that she turn her entire world upside down for him with a snap of his fingers.
Then…nothing. Not a word. Not a card. Not a single phone call.
So, she had gone through with her marriage, come back to reality, she thought. Fulfilled her promises, her responsibility, though she knew all along her heart wasn’t in it. And, unfortunately, neither was the rest of her body, she reflected. For although she had given herself to Connor with bold abandon, she’d never responded to Todd with anything close to that degree of passion and sensuality.
Todd had accused her of being cold. Frigid. That was the reason he’d needed to wander. It was really all her fault, according to Todd. She’d accepted the accusation without argument, for how could she dare explain why she knew it wasn’t true? Besides, she did feel guilty about her lack of passion for him. About the light of love that had burned in her heart for another man, for so many years, unseen and unrequited.
Yes, discovering Todd’s affair had been painful and humiliating. But the pain had been nothing compared with the sense of loss and betrayal she’d felt, the humiliation of being played for a fool, when Connor Northrup had used her for a one-night stand.
What other explanation was there for what had happened? If Connor Northrup had the nerve to offer one, she knew she’d refuse to believe it.
She had almost expected to see him at her father’s funeral two years ago. But Connor had been traveling on business at the time and had sent a note of sympathy along with a staggering arrangement of flowers. Her father had adored Connor. Taken a deep interest in him as a boy and helped him fulfill his potential as a young man. After Connor entered the work world, Charles had kept in touch with him, bragged about his successes as if Connor had been his own son. Sometimes she thought he liked him even more than Phillip.
Why should it matter so much after all this time? Laurel shook her head, silently scolding herself. She should know better by now. She should at least act as if she did. And, in about ten minutes, she would do exactly that. She would act as if it didn’t matter and had never mattered to her, in fact. She would put on such a convincing show of cool, polite, businesslike persona that even Connor Northrup would not dare to bring up the past.
She dreaded this meeting. She had dreaded this day ever since Laurel had learned that the firm that handled Sutherland’s annual audit had merged with a group of financial analysts headed by Connor Northrup. But now it had come—the day that they would meet again, face-to-face.
She remembered how handsome he was. Remembered much too well, in fact. She knew it was mean of her, but she hoped he’d lost his hair, or gotten a big potbelly. Or both. It had been seven years since she’d seen him. Anything could have happened. He might be married, with ten kids, for all she knew. She found herself frowning at the thought, then shook her head.
Laurel gave up on trying to review the old letters and pushed the pile of papers back into the folder. She rose from the desk and walked into the private bathroom that adjoined her office. She rinsed her hands, then quickly checked her appearance. Just as I would do before any other meeting of this kind, Laurel assured herself. She was not making any special effort for Connor Northrup. Still, she could not help wondering if he would find her appearance changed. She knew she had changed since that summer night years ago. People remarked on it. Or held themselves back from remarking on it, she had noticed.
Her body was basically the same—if anything she’d gotten a bit thinner. The expensive, high-style navy blue suit she had chosen for today with its sleek, severe cut certainly made her look model thin. The color complemented her fair hair. Her hair was still long, though she rarely wore it down anymore, and certainly not at the office. Today it was swept up in a sophisticated style. Her pearl earrings added to the elegant, businesslike image.
Her eyes—which Connor had once rhapsodized over—were still blue, she noted with a wry smile. But she was older and wiser and it showed, she knew. The sparkle was gone, replaced by a certain accepting dullness. Maturity, some might call it. But at that moment, Laurel wondered if it couldn’t more accurately be called cynicism. Bitterness. The shadow of vain hopes.
Silly thoughts. Useless thoughts, really. She couldn’t let Connor guess that she had any feelings about seeing him at all. After all, she did have her self-respect.
She’d never worn much makeup. Never needed to, and now, even when a bit of blush or concealer for the shadows under her eyes might have helped, she didn’t want to bother. She applied fresh lipstick in a brisk, efficient motion and snapped the tube closed.
She was as ready as she’d ever be. She checked her watch. Five to ten. Time to head down to the conference room near Phillip’s office.
Laurel grabbed her leather-bound notepad and a pen off her desk. When she left her office, she gave instructions to her assistant, Emily, then headed down the long hallway. The dark green carpeting was thick and her steps were nearly soundless.
It was almost a relief to get it over with, Laurel reflected. She hoped that Connor would keep the discussion brief and focused on business matters. Business matters he clearly thought were urgent, but didn’t see fit to illuminate or explain when he’d called Phillip last night to arrange this meeting.
Something having to do with the company’s annual outside audit, she assumed. The audit that was reported each year to Sutherland Enterprises’s board of directors. She knew it was presently taking place, but hadn’t heard of any significant problem or questions. Phillip hadn’t mentioned any.
At least she wouldn’t be alone with him. Phillip would be there. Recalling how Connor and her brother got along about as well as oil and water, she wondered if Phillip’s presence would be any help. He would, at the very least, deflect some of Connor’s attention.
After her father’s death, Phillip had been named CEO and taken over the helm. Even Laurel had to admit that he had not been doing a stellar job in the post, despite the fact that he had been groomed for years for the role, Laurel reflected as she boarded the elevator and punched the button for the ninth floor.
Phillip was not a good manager and was often quite impulsive, without enough patience to learn about all the facts and consider them carefully before making important decisions. Phillip was shrewd, Laurel thought, but not truly intelligent. Certainly not wise about people, as her father had been, which to Laurel was the essence of running any business, really.
It was all a soft soap, diplomatic way of saying that Phillip was not up to the job. And the financial health of the company would eventually suffer. Had already suffered, she feared. But it was a demanding position. She truly hoped that it was merely a matter of time before her brother grew into his role.
Laurel got off the elevator and walked down to the conference room near her brother’s large corner office. When she opened the door, she was surprised to find that Phillip was already there, waiting. Like some reigning monarch, it was usually his habit to make everyone assemble for a meeting and have them sit waiting for him before he swept in and took his seat at the head of the table.
But there he was, waiting for Connor Northrup. Like a boy who had misbehaved, waiting for the principal, was Laurel’s immediate impression. But that was silly. Why should Phillip feel nervous about meeting with Connor? She was the one who had reason to feel nervous. If anything,