Riches to Rags Bride / The Heiress's Baby. Myrna Mackenzie
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she just couldn’t seem to stop thinking about how Barry had bullied her and betrayed her. She couldn’t seem to stop trying to assert herself. “You don’t know that I couldn’t defend myself. I could have had kickboxing lessons.”
He tilted his head. “Have you?”
Darn her need for honesty! “No.”
At least he didn’t look triumphant the way Barry would have when he had won a point.
“Genevieve,” he said, looking suddenly tired and exasperated. He rubbed his palm over the back of his neck. “Why does this mean so much to you?”
She looked down. “I can’t afford to move here. I still owe a little money to Mrs. Dohenny, my landlady.”
“I’ll pay it.”
“No! No! I haven’t earned that much yet. And—”
“And …?”
She looked up then, daring to stare directly into those mesmerizing see-all gray eyes. “I know this sounds foolish.” And she was so tired of being thought foolish or inconsequential. Everyone she’d ever loved had thought of her that way. “The thing is … I’m penniless because my fiancé, who happened to be my financial advisor, tricked me out of my money. When that happened, I was humiliated, angry and clueless about how to go on, because all my life I’d let other people make my decisions.
“That was when I realized just how precious and important and empowering independence really is. So, I really need to make my own way in the world. No charity involved. No letting other people make my decisions. Of course, I understand that you have the right to control anything regarding my work, but please. This is where I live. It’s not work.”
He studied her for a minute, frowning.
“I apologize if I’ve made you angry,” she began, which seemed to make him really angry. He cut her off with a sudden slashing of his hand.
“If you want to be truly independent, you should speak your mind. No apologies. No letting me push you around when I’ve overstepped the boundaries of our work relationship.”
She bit her lip.
“Just as you did a moment ago,” he emphasized.
“All right. Then we can stop talking about my apartment? And I’ll take the bus from now on.”
Lucas opened his mouth to speak but the doorbell rang at that moment. He tilted his head and started to move toward the door at the same time as she did.
Genevieve stopped. So did Lucas. Then he waved her through. “My apologies. You’re the project manager, and
Angie’s House and any visitors here are in your hands. We’ll continue this discussion later.”
Which meant that she hadn’t won. Yet.
Stubborn, overbearing, infuriating man. No wonder women fell all over themselves trying to attract his attention. It must be the prospect of attaining the unattainable.
Thank goodness she wasn’t that susceptible.
Lucas watched Genevieve walk away, knowing he was handling this situation all wrong.
The truth was that Genevieve tied him up in frustrated knots. He admired her for sticking to her guns, but he needed to have her settled, clear of his conscience and out of his private thoughts. If she was here, safe, he wouldn’t have to think about her at all beyond the job. He would have compartmentalized her situation, controlled the danger zones, the loose ends, the tough, emotional stuff that had once made his life a nightmare. Plus, if she truly wanted to be empowered …
His thoughts were interrupted by Genevieve appearing in the doorway.
“That was a delivery of paint primer,” she told him with a frown.
“Something wrong with the order?”
She shook her head. “No, but up until now you and I have only spoken about what’s happening at Angie’s House. Here I was all set to show my stuff and prove that I could handle any situation, and all I had to do was tell him where to put everything. Nothing even remotely challenging about that.”
Lucas couldn’t help smiling just a little. “Don’t worry. You’ll face plenty of challenges before we’re through.
There are always setbacks and glitches. I suppose you’re looking forward to those.”
She looked at him suspiciously. “Is this a trick question?”
He chuckled. “No, no tricks, but if it’s empowerment you’re after …”
“It is.”
“Then come stay here.” Like a dog that couldn’t ignore the bone, he came back to the topic that was keeping thoughts of Genevieve simmering in his conscience.
“That’s not empowerment. It’s giving in.”
A trickle of admiration at her tenacity slid through Lucas. He knew Gen didn’t like conflict, but she was making a stand. Too bad her stand conflicted with his. And with a cold, hard truth.
“It’s not giving in,” he said. “Think about this. A lot of the women who’ll come to live at Angie’s House know all about neighborhoods like yours because they’ve been there, they’re trapped there. If they see you as someone who’s lived in that world, kicked free and survived to grow stronger … that’s inspirational and empowering. It makes you a role model.”
She stood there, staring at him, her eyes wary. “It feels exactly like quitting.”
“It’s not. Gen, a good portion of the residents where I used to live stayed there because they were powerless to get away or change their circumstances. I was like that. Getting out empowered me and changed my life. It meant that I was taking control of the situation.”
Lucas didn’t miss the war taking place in Genevieve’s eyes. She wanted to take up his offer, but taking what she saw as the easy way out didn’t fit with her new life’s plan to be a strong woman. He was losing her.
As he’d lost others.
No. No. Strike that thought. Focus on the now, on taking charge, making things right. So, he fought his instincts, fought the urge to put his fist through something. In the past he would have done just that. But not now. Now he was all about control. Control was survival.
So he couldn’t stop. Not until he had made sure Genevieve was safe and until he’d restored the “no personal interest” parameters of their relationship and kicked free of his fascination with her. It was the only way he could continue to function with her, given his past. Given what he’d learned about Angie.
He ached to turn back time and save Angie, but he couldn’t. The only one he could save today was Genevieve. But he didn’t want to break her spirit. He couldn’t let the cost be too high.
Lucas cleared his throat, cleared his mind, focused on the key elements, on the truth. He knew how much she valued the truth.
“Genevieve, I won’t deny that I’m worried about you living in such a dangerous place, mostly because I know all about predators and the damage they do.” He glanced away. That was enough of that. She didn’t need to know more.
“But as I said, think about the good you could do if you became the first resident of Angie’s House. Your experiences these past few months would help you understand what these women, the future residents, have dealt with for years. The simple act of standing in their shoes could be very useful in your job.” His voice trailed off. There was nothing more that he could say. If she didn’t want to move here, if his arguments hadn’t convinced her, he couldn’t—and wouldn’t—try to force her.
For several seconds Genevieve said nothing. She closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she was frowning. “You’re used to controlling your empire, aren’t you?”
Her