Untamed: (Heath & Violet) (Beg For It) (28 page)

It almost felt surreal
knocking on his door. Especially when a few flashes went off and I
realized he had paparazzi waiting there. Paparazzi! In Watson,
Vermont! They must be freezing cold.

I almost wondered if
Heath was going to answer the door. I had to knock again, the cameras
catching every anxious second, until he finally ripped it open with
such violence I wondered that it didn’t come right off its hinges.

“Get in here,” he
growled, and I walked into the den of the bear. He locked the door
behind me.

“Heath, I’m so
sorry,” I started but he didn’t let me finish.

“Violet!” He thrust
his hand up into his messed-up hair, grabbing a fistful. He looked so
good, so massive and sexy, but even I could tell he bristled with Do
Not Touch. “Why did you come here?”

“To talk to you.” I
reached a hand out but he just looked at it. I let it drop.

“Did they get some
nice shots of you out there?” He pointed toward the door, then
started pacing around his living room like a lion in a cage.

“I’m so sorry
they’re here.” I took a step toward him, but only a step. It was
so good to see him, but scary, too. He was brimming with rage.

“You’re sorry!”
he exploded, looking at me with disbelief. “That’s the whole
reason you came here in the first place! To film it!”

“No.” I shook my
head. “Not like this.”

“No?” He stood in
the middle of the room, tall and powerful as a tree, staring down at
me with such coldness in his eyes I wondered if it had been a good
idea to fly there after all. “How dare you come here into my home.
You lied to me.”

“I didn’t.” I
hated the pleading quality in my voice, but he had to know the truth.
“I swear. I made a different pitch. I pitched the show I talked
about with you, focused on the town, the people, the businesses. It
was Sam’s idea to do the exposé on you. I didn’t sell you out.”

“You gave me the
paperwork to sign.” His voice stayed so level, completely unmoved
by my explanations.

“I’m sorry, I
honestly didn’t know what you were signing.”

He looked at me,
seeming to weigh my words. I held my breath. “Nope.” He shook his
head. “I don’t buy it. You’re not that stupid.”

His words about knocked
the wind right out of me. I’d never seen a mean side to Heath
before. Gruff, sure. But this was a whole new Heath, and I didn’t
like it one bit.

“You’re one to
accuse me of lying.” The angry words started flying out of my mouth
before I knew what I was saying. “You’ve been lying this whole
time. To me and to everyone. Why didn’t you say who you really
are?”

“I lied?” His
question, low and cold, lay coiled there like a snake. A smart person
would have backed away quietly. But I wasn’t feeling smart. I was
feeling hurt and angry and vengeful so I took out a stick and poked
it.

“Yeah, you did,” I
told him. “You acted like you’re just some craftsman out here in
the woods. But who are you really, Heath? Are you from one of the
richest families in the world? Descended from British royalty? Your
brother is Ash Black?” My voice rose with each question.

He looked down at the
broad wooden floor planks, barely containing his rage as he grit
through his teeth, “Yes, but that’s not me.”

“It is you,” I
insisted. And knowing I was right made me feel like an idiot. I’d
fallen for him, but it turned out I didn’t even know who he really
was. He was from a completely different world, the kind that looked
down on regular people like me. And to think, stupid me, I’d
worried about whether he had enough cash to cover the cost of dinner.

“You didn’t tell me
the truth.” I shook my head, my cheeks burning with memories. “And
there I was, bragging about how I got my degree in night school. And
where did you go to college? Dartmouth?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t
get a degree.”

“Oh!” I rolled my
eyes. “Big fuckin’ whoop!”

“Is that the kind of
mature conversation we’re having here?” he spat out. “What’s
next? I know you are but what am I?”

I rubbed my eyes,
trying to rouse myself out of this nightmare. I hadn’t flown there
to fight with him. I’d come to try to apologize, explain what had
happened. Right the wrong.

“Heath, I don’t
want to—”

“I should have
known,” he interrupted, not even looking at me as he talked. “I
blame myself. Anyone could take one look at you and see what you’re
after.”

“See what, exactly?”
There it was again, the anger flaring up hot in me. Who the hell did
he think he was? “What do you think you see when you look at me,
Heath? Because I don’t think you’re the one who should be talking
about appearances being deceiving.”

“Now we’re back to
me being the liar.” He threw his hands up in the air.

“How’d you buy the
land to build this cabin, Heath?” The question only just occurred
to me, but the second it did I felt incensed. And right. “Let me
guess. You used your family’s money to do it.”

He glowered at me. But
he didn’t deny it.

“You bought this land
with your daddy’s money so you could play poor kid,” I accused
him. “See, not all of us get to play at doing shit ourselves. Some
of us have to make our own way because we have no other choice.”

“I don’t want to
hear any more from you!” he thundered.

“You’re like Sir
Heathcliff McMoneybags!” I yelled, knowing vaguely I was starting
to sound crazy but too angry to care.

The man in question
crossed the room in three long, swift strides. He drew back the
curtains on his window and blinding, rapid flashes assaulted us in
the room.

“You see this?” he
yelled. “You did that.”

I flinched and turned
away from the light of the cameras. He was right. I hadn’t meant to
do it, but ultimately I was responsible for him getting thrown to the
wolves. Angrily, he snapped the curtain back into place.

“You know how hard I
worked to separate myself from all of that? To become my own man?
Live on my own terms? Create a life for myself that I believe in?
It’s all gone now.”

We stood there, both of
us panting with anger and pain.

“Maybe if you’d
told them the truth before—?” I started.

“Look, Violet.” He
exhaled, staring at the floor planks, gathering his strength. Or
restraining his strength. I didn’t know what battle was raging
inside of him, but I could tell it was fierce. “I’m not
interested in fighting with you. You’ve made a big, fucking mess
out of my life.”

“I’m sorry, Heath.”

“I don’t want to
hear it.” He shook his head, dismissing my words. “After all the
trouble you’ve caused, can’t you see the best thing you can do is
leave me alone? I don’t want anything to do with you.”

I’d thought I’d
already had the wind knocked out of me, but apparently I still had a
little left in there to lose. My mouth gaped open and I said nothing,
dumbstruck.

“Get out of here,
Violet.” He turned his back to me.

Shocked into silence, I
found my way to the door and left without another word.

§

What did you do when
you had no job, no boyfriend, no life? You crawled onto your mom’s
couch and wore a melon-colored sweat suit from the sale rack at
Walmart for several days on end, that’s what.

I didn’t have a job
anymore so I couldn’t make rent. That last minute round trip
cross-country plane ticket hadn’t exactly been cheap. I was lucky I
had enough to cover the costs of shipping my things back to New
Jersey.

I wished I could say
that I left LAX with my fist raised and a rallying cry, “You
haven’t heard the last of me, L.A.!” But it was hard to summon
your inner fierceness when you had a broken heart.

Because that was the
real problem. I’d gone and fallen completely in love with a
mountain man. Only that man didn’t actually exist. Simple, tough
Heath the woodworker was actually Heathcliff Kavanaugh, Ivy League
heir to billions. And he couldn’t have made it more clear that he
wanted nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with me.

“Here’s to you,
Heathcliff Kavanaugh,” I murmured, scooping another big spoonful of
Ben & Jerry’s into my mouth. I didn’t even use a bowl. I
wondered what the royals in his family would have to say about that.
The manners on that heathen! And just because I didn’t have to
worry about what they’d think of me since they’d never, ever meet
me anyway, I finished the whole frickin’ pint.

Heath

I sat awkwardly on the
couch with an untouched glass of wine in my hand while my brother
Ash’s fiancé arranged flowers in a vase.

“Do you think these
look fussy?” She tilted her head and surveyed them from a short
distance. “I know it’s still technically winter, but I thought
some flowers would really brighten things up.”

“They’re, uh,
nice,” I offered. She was nice, too. She’d been nothing but
welcoming and kind since I’d arrived at their place in SoHo
yesterday afternoon. It was me who was being stiff and weird. I
didn’t feel right about imposing on them. They had to prefer having
their place to themselves.

“We’re so thrilled
you’re here, Heath!” Ana exclaimed. “The guest room is all set
up for you.”

“You didn’t have to
do that,” I grumbled and mumbled. Sometimes I felt like a little
kid in a big, overgrown man’s body.

“It’s our
pleasure!” she sang out and she made me believe it. Ash had really
lucked out with this one. I’d seen him with some grade-A Prima
Donnas over the past years. He’d gone through a Victoria’s Secret
model phase and the best thing I could say about the lot of them were
they were nice to look at. For about five minutes. Until the whining
and preening and posturing and drama made you look for the nearest
exit. But with me, lots of things made me look for the nearest exit.

“So, do you eat red
meat?” Ana asked. “Because I’ve got a lasagna in the oven for
dinner and it does have some ground beef in it, but I’m making a
salad on the side and I could see what else we have in the kitchen.”

“Of course he eats
red meat!” Ash strode into the room, looking happier than I’d
ever seen him. “How else do you think Heath grew so big?”

The two of them bustled
around me, clearly in sync with each other, finding ways to touch and
exchange smiles. Honestly, Ash had always made me a little edgy in
the past. He had such a frenetic energy pulsing through him, a
constant internal drive pushing him in his music, toward the
spotlight. But when he gazed at Ana, which he often did, he looked
almost peaceful.

The two of them were
good to talk to about the scum of the earth that were the paparazzi.
They’d been chased around by cameras since the first day they’d
met.

“So, Heath.” Ana
turned to me with a gleam in her eyes. “Are you single? Because
I’ve got a roommate—”

“Oh no, Ana!” Ash
interrupted. “Don’t you dare set him up with Liv.”

“Not Liv! Jillian.”

“I’m not…” I
shook my head, trying to find the right words to stop this crazy
train. “I’m done with all that.”

“Are you, now?”
Uh-oh, Ash had a gleam in his eyes as he took a sip of his wine.
Apparently I hadn’t said the right words. “So if you’re done,
that means you were just involved with someone.”

I exhaled. Better to
get it over with. I told them the short version, that I’d met a
woman from the TV network when she’d been up in Watson.

“She’s not behind
the exposé?” Ash asked.

“She handed me the
consent form to film it.”

“Hmm.” Ash
considered the situation. “Might be more going on there than you
know about.”

“You should talk to
her,” Ana chimed in. “What’s her side of things?”

I put a forkful of
lasagna in my mouth so I didn’t have to participate in the
conversation. But they waited politely for me to finish my bite. “I’m
not going to talk to her.”

“Why not?” Ana
looked so concerned, so kind and worried. I couldn’t just pull a
big, gruff Heath and walk up and out. I wanted to, though.

“Well, for one, she’s
pissed at me,” I started. “She thinks I lied to her.”

“About your family?”
Ash adopted a movie announcer voice. “The billionaire Kavanaugh
dynasty.”

“Something like
that.”

“Just call her up,”
Ana said, making it all sound so simple as she poured me more wine.
“Tell her you’re sorry. Offer to take her sailing on a yacht.
She’ll get over it.”

I shook my head. “We
had a big fight. I think the last thing she said to me was she called
me Sir Heathcliff McMoneybags.”

Ash and Ana burst out
laughing. “I like this one,” Ash declared.

“I can’t wait to
meet her!” Ana exclaimed.

“Not likely.” I put
another big bite of lasagna in my mouth and focused on my plate. It
was easy to laugh things off when you were so in love you looked like
cartoon characters with hearts bursting out of your eyes. But morose
as I was, I had to acknowledge they did have a point. Sir Heathcliff
McMoneybags was kind of funny.

§

In the living room of
my mother’s Connecticut estate, I again found myself sitting
stiffly on a couch. Only I wasn’t the only one stiff and awkward
this time around. My mother looked like she’d just bit down on a
lemon but was using all of her self-control to grin and bear it.

“So good of you to
come,” she offered. I grunted. More silence.

She’d invited me to
lunch, and I’d dutifully accepted the invitation. We only saw each
other a handful of times each year. It wasn’t as if we fought. We
simply had very little to say to each other.

“Would you like some
water?” She gestured to a pitcher and some glasses set out on a
tray. No alcohol. She hadn’t touched a drop since those dark years
post-divorce. I helped myself to a glass. It gave me something to do.