To that, he said nothing.

“And those men with the cameras are your employees,” she said slowly. “And they’re here to mess up Logan’s wedding.”

“Yes—no, actually. Okay, fuck.” He raked a hand through his hair again. “Where do I start. So I came to the island wanting a business deal with Hawkings for a new channel. I figured if I caught him on vacation, I might loosen him up. I had no idea he was here to get married. Anyhow, I nearly drowned and you saved me, and from that point on, it became my goal to find out who you were, because I was already half in love with you at first sight.” He looked over at her, and his expression was tender and hopeful.

Hers remained horrified.

He sighed. “Right. Anyhow, I was leaving that night when I ran into you in front of the hotel, so then I decided to stay a few more days to get to know you. In the meantime, Logan finds me in the bar and won’t give me the time of day. Said I was not doing the kind of business he was interested in and to get off the island because I was fucking up his wedding. I got pissed and told my Tits crew to come here and make a nuisance of themselves. Once they accosted you, I told them to leave. It seems they don’t take orders very well.” He grimaced.

Recognition dawned on her face. “And this is why you stood me up yesterday. Because Logan would see you and know you were spending time with me.”

“Yup. And I never wanted to hurt you at all. Not in the slightest.” The look on his face was fierce. “But I was trapped. Logan thinks I’m using you to get to him, and that’s not true.”

She didn’t know if she believed him. She wanted to, desperately, but years of long, lonely experience had taught her that hot, interesting guys didn’t go for the six-foot-tall chick. So she was leaning more toward Logan’s suggestion, too, which hurt. Bad.

“So Logan thinks you’re using me.”

He nodded.

“And yet you slept with me last night, knowing that today I’d find out who you were?”

“Can’t blame a guy for wanting a little taste of paradise before being condemned to hell.”

Her jaw dropped. “That is repulsive.”

He rubbed his face again. “I wasn’t going to touch you, Marjorie. I really wasn’t. Hell, you wouldn’t take no for an answer, and you were so sweet and so fragile that I felt like if I turned you down, I’d have hurt you even more.” The smile he shot in her direction was bitter, tormented. “I was fucking stuck. Either love you and leave you, or just leave you. I chose to get one night out of things, at least.”

He was right, she realized with a sick feeling in her stomach. She’d been so relieved when he showed up and made her feel pretty again that she’d all but begged him to take her virginity. Oh sweet mercy, it was so shameful. “You must have had a good laugh at the ignorant virgin who thought you were her knight in shining armor.”

“I never laughed at you. Not once,” Rob said, his face solemn. “I never cared what anyone thought about me until I met you. I grew up thinking I was completely unlovable and didn’t give a shit. Everyone in the world could think I was some sort of douchebag in a business suit and I didn’t care a whit . . . until I met you. You’re the only person I’ve ever cared about what you thought of me.” He reached for her hand and tugged it between his. “And I love you.”

Funny how the “I love you” didn’t come last night in bed when she’d told him how she felt. It only came now, when he felt cornered, trapped. Hot tears blurred Marjorie’s vision and she swiped at them angrily. “How can you sit there and tell me that you love me when all you’ve done is lie to me?”

“I was trying to protect you.”

“From who you really are? Who’s going to protect all those women from you? The women you pay to debase themselves for your viewers?”

“Marjorie, it’s not like that—”

“It’s exactly like that,” she cried, pulling her hand from his. “How would you feel if those men showed up right now and I felt pressured to take my top off? And then it showed on TV?”

His jaw clenched. “I told them to leave you alone.”

“Because you’re the boss,” she pointed out. “If you weren’t and they harassed me, I might have done it just to make them go away. Then how would you feel?”

He said nothing. Just gazed at her with wounded eyes.

“Those women are someone else’s daughters. Their sisters, their girlfriends. You’re profiting off of bullying them.”

“What do you want me to say, Marjorie? I love you. I never intended on falling in love, but I’m crazy about you. If you want me to say I’m sorry, I will. If you want me to sell the network, I will. I love you. I’d do anything for you. I loved you from the moment I saw you.”

“I don’t know if I can still love you, Rob. The man I loved was a lie.”

“No.” His nostrils flared and he glared at her. “I’ve been me with you this week. That’s who I really am. That wasn’t a lie.”

“The man I fell in love with wouldn’t hurt women. He treats me like gold,” she said softly. “I loved the man who was kind and gentle to me, who held my hand and rescued me from creeps. Not the man who hires the creeps.”

“Marjorie, please.” He grasped her hand in his, pulled it to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “I adore you. I adore everything about you. I’ve never met someone like you and I can’t wait to spend every minute with you. Give me another chance. Let me redeem myself in your eyes. Please. I want you with me. When I go back to California, I want you to come with me and give me another chance. I can change.”

Her heart was breaking at the pain in his handsome face, his smoky green eyes. How many times had she dreamed of having a man tell her that he loved her and wanted her? And how was it that Rob—who was so perfect for her in so many ways and made her feel so cherished and loved—could turn out to be so awful underneath? She felt utterly betrayed, and stupid . . .

And she just hurt, from head to toe. Her heart hurt the worst. “I can’t, Rob.”

“I don’t want to lose you. How much is Brontë going to pay you? I’ll double it. No, I’ll triple it. You can be my assistant. Two of mine are fucking idiots anyhow.”

She reluctantly pulled her hand from his, wanting to weep at how her body still wanted him even though her heart felt torn asunder. “I’m sorry, Rob. I have a rehearsal dinner to get to.”

“Marjorie, please.”

She shook her head. “Just . . . just leave me alone, okay?”

As she walked away on wobbly feet, she kept expecting him to come after her. She looked back, once, and saw Rob still sitting at the bench, a haunted expression on his face.

He could beg her to forgive him as nicely as he wanted, but in the end, she didn’t trust him. She didn’t know the real Rob. Did the real Rob go on moonlit swims with tall girls and take them out for ice cream simply because they wanted to spend time together? Did the real Rob want to impress a girl so much that he wore a sweater-vest and took her to bingo? Or was the real Rob a manipulator who wore a million faces and would say whatever she wanted to hear just so he could get into the wedding?

She felt sick.

Chapter Twenty-two

The reception dinner was lovely. Despite the fact that Marjorie sat alone, the seat next to her uncomfortably empty, her friends did their best to make her feel wanted and happy. She’d never felt more loved by her friends . . .

Which was ironic, because all she wanted to do was run up to her room and have a good crying session. She couldn’t, though, because she didn’t want to ruin Brontë’s happiness. So she smiled and acted like she was fine. She laughed and chatted and shook hands, and gave her small, shaky little speech at the rehearsal dinner. Her smile felt pasted on¸ but if anyone noticed her stiff, frozen look, they kept it to themselves.