Summer Love - Page 58

“Everything.” Her eyes were drenched with regret when she looked at him. “Then, tonight… First I found out that you own hotels.Ownthem.”

“It was hardly a secret. Why should it matter?”

“It wouldn’t.” She dropped her hands to her sides. “If I was what I’d pretended to be. After we’d made love and you—I realized that by pretending I’d let you have feelings for someone who didn’t even exist.”

“You’re standing in front of me, Rebecca. You exist.”

“No. Not the way you think, not the way I’ve let you think.”

He prepared himself for the worst. “What have you done? Were you running away from America?”

“No. Yes.” She had to laugh at that. “Yes, I was running.” She gathered what composure she had left and folded her hands. “I did come from Philadelphia, as I told you. I’ve lived there all my life. Lived there, went to school there, worked there.” She found a tissue in the pocket of her robe. “I’m an accountant.”

He stared at her, one brow lifting, as she blew her nose. “I beg your pardon?”

“I said, I’m an accountant.” She hurled the words at him, then whirled away to face the window. Stephen started to rise, then thought better of it.

“I find it difficult to imagine you tallying ledgers, Rebecca. If you’d sit down, maybe we could talk this through.”

“Damn it, I said I’m an accountant. A CPA specializing in corporate taxes. Up until a few weeks ago I worked for McDowell, Jableki and Kline in Philadelphia.”

He spread his hands, taking it all in. “All right. What did you do? Embezzle?”

She tossed back her head and nearly exploded with laughter. If she said yes he’d probably be intrigued. But the time for intrigue was over. The time for the truth was now. “No. I’ve never done anything illegal in my life. I’ve never even had a parking ticket. I’ve never done anything at all out of the ordinary until a few weeks ago.”

She began to pace again, too agitated to keep still. “I’d never traveled, never had a man send a bottle of champagne to my table, never walked along the beach in the moonlight, never had a lover.”

He said nothing, not because he was angry or bored but because he was fascinated.

“I had a good job, my car was paid for, and had good, conservative investments that would have ensured me a comfortable retirement. In my circle of friends I’m known as the dependable one. If someone needs a sitter they know they can call Rebecca. If they need advice or someone to feed their fish while they’re on vacation they don’t have to worry. I was never late for work, never took five minutes extra for lunch.”

“Commendable,” he said, and earned a glare.

“Just the type of employee I imagine you’d like to hire.”

He swallowed a chuckle. He’d been prepared for her to confess she had a husband, five husbands, a prison record. Instead she was telling him she was an accountant with an excellent work record. “I have no desire to hire you, Rebecca.”

“Just as well.” She turned away and started to prowl the room again. “You’d undoubtedly change your mind after I tell you the rest.”

Stephen crossed his ankles and settled back. God, what a woman she was. “I’m anxious to hear it.”

“My aunt died about three months ago, suddenly.”

“I’m sorry.” He would have gone to her then, but he could see she was far from ready. “I know how difficult it is to lose family.”

“She was all I had left.” Because she needed something to do, she pushed open the balcony doors. Warm, fragrant night air rushed in. “I couldn’t believe she was gone. Just like that. No warning. Of course, I handled the funeral arrangements. No fuss, no frills. Just the way Aunt Jeannie would have wanted. She was a very economical woman, not only in finances but in dress, in speech, in manner. As long as I can remember, people compared me to her.”

Stephen’s brow lifted again as he studied the woman being buffeted by the breeze—the short red silk robe, the tousled hair.

“Soon after her death—I don’t know if it was days or a week—something just snapped. I looked at myself, at my life, and I hated it.” She dragged her hair back, only to have the wind catch it again. “I was a good employee, just like my aunt, a good credit risk, a dependable friend. Law abiding, conservative and boring. Suddenly I could see myself ten, twenty, thirty years down the road, with nothing more than I had at that moment. I couldn’t stand it.”

She turned around. The breeze caught at the hem of her robe and sent it dancing around her legs. “I quit my job, and I sold everything.”

“Sold?”

“Everything I owned—car, apartment, furniture, books, absolutely everything. I turned all the cash into traveler’s checks, even the small inheritance from my aunt. Thousands of dollars. I know it might not sound like a lot to you, but it was more than I’d ever imagined having at once.”

“Wait.” He held up a hand, wanting to be certain he understood everything. “You’re telling me that you sold your possessions,allyour possessions?”