Reluctant Deception - Cambria Smyth Page 0,72

calm logic. God knows she should hate him for what he'd done to her, and yet, somehow, she still loved him. Still wished there was a way to overcome the lies and deception denying them the chance for a true relationship.

But right now she hated herself more. This mess was really her fault. If she'd never deceived him or if she had at least come clean before accepting the assignment, she wouldn't be in this predicament now. How he must loathe her to undertake such a soul-wrenching plan for retaliation. Maybe she deserved it, but she didn't have to stay here a minute longer and let him gloat any further over his sweet victory.

"As far as I'm concerned, Mr. Darnell, we have nothing else to discuss." She jerked the door open and scowled at him. "Have a good day."

Closing the door with a loud slam, Libby emerged into the hallway, shaken but relieved. It was over. They were over.

Cheryl looked at her contritely. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Libby ignored her remark and headed back down the long hallway, shoulders squared and chin held high.

She was keenly aware of the heads that turned to follow her progress to the elevator. She punched the down button as though her life depended on it and waited impatiently for the doors to open, ignoring the small crowd of Darnell Development employees who gathered to stare at her.

When Libby finally entered the hushed sanctuary of the elevator, she sagged against the brass rail on the far wall as the doors closed in front of her. With the back of her hand, Libby wiped a tear trickling down her cheek and sadly watched the floor numbers light up in descending order, carrying her ever further from the man she loved.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Christopher Darnell stared at the closed door for a full minute after Libby's angry departure. Letting out a tired sigh, he swung his chair around, propped both feet unceremoniously on the window sill and gazed at the Philadelphia skyline without really seeing it.

Their meeting had been a disaster, he conceded. He, the master of negotiation and persuasive speech, hadn't been able to get so much as a word in. He, who prided himself on thoroughly studying every opponent to know their habits, financial status, and favorite foods so he could anticipate their willingness to deal, had miserably underestimated Libby.

Over the years, he'd accumulated a whole folder full of information about her. The real estate deals he'd lost because of her, newspaper clippings about her and her projects, reams of financial data showing the dollars he'd spent to fight her as well as the profits he'd sacrificed because of her interference. The overstuffed folder was sitting on his desk now. He'd glanced through its contents earlier and wondered anew how they'd avoided meeting each other before Harte's Desire.

He'd planned on waving the heavy folder in front of her before symbolically dumping the entire thing in the wastebasket. Chris had decided to tell Libby that what happened in the past between them didn't matter anymore. He was willing to let go of the adversarial history they shared to start with a clean slate. They could get to know each other without the old baggage weighing their relationship down.

But most of all, he wanted to tell Libby how much he loved her.

Thoughts of her had consumed him, beginning the minute he left her house, during the long plane trip to London, and lasting the entire week he was away from her. There was barely a moment he didn't miss her impish grin, her proud determination, or the thousand other ways she touched his soul.

She loved him once. Could she love him again?

Chris was sorry Libby misinterpreted his note. He thought she'd want to talk about their feelings and the way their intimacy had solidified a love they could share.

She looked as stunning as ever, he reflected. The dusty rose color of her silk blouse and matching tailored skirt highlighted her creamy complexion and accented her figure to perfection. Her hair, cascading in blond waves past her shoulders, seemed to shine with a brilliance of its own and framed her pretty, intelligent face. She wore only a bare minimum of make-up and he knew she'd be just as radiant wearing none at all. By the look of her curvaceous legs, made all the more so by the leather trimmed high heels she wore, it was obvious she was still going to the gym. Chris chuckled at the memory of