Nothing in her expression bespoke a woman unhappy with her choices.
“Who’s to say she wasn’t doing exactly what she wanted to do?”
“Trust me, prospecting for gold and diamonds isn’t the glamorous work you might imagine it to be.” A note of bitterness crept into his voice. “Prospectors travel to crappy little towns in the middle of nowhere. That’s if there is a town. Typically, there are no hotels. No shops. More often than not, there isn’t even any running water. Diamond mines aren’t found in New York City half a block away from the Ritz-Carlton.”
“I never said they were.”
“It’s hard work. Under brutal conditions. No one deserves to live like that.”
“Are you talking about why you think your mother was unhappy or why you were unhappy?”
The expression that flickered across his face was positively chilly. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by cool disinterest.
“Oh, I get it now.”
“Get what?”
“All those years of rebellious behavior that you pretend to be so proud of.”
He appeared to be gritting his teeth, “I’m not proud of—”
“Well, of course not. Because you’re not really a rebel. The media portrays you like the renegade of the Messina family. But that’s not it at all. You didn’t travel around the world, refusing to accept a position at Messina Diamonds because you’re some kind of renegade. You know why you did it?”
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
She ignored his obvious annoyance. “You did it to get back at your father and brother. On the one hand, for the first time in your life you had control over where you lived and what you did. After years of being dragged all over the world—your words, not mine—you probably wanted to settle down in one place. Put down some roots. But by then, Messina Diamonds was taking off. Your father needed you to settle into the family business. So you were torn between the desire to do what you wanted and the compulsion to disappoint your father. After all, he’d disappointed you for so many years. So you made yourself into the rebel loner. Traveling all over the world, keeping everyone at arm’s length. All to protect yourself.”
She felt a surge of triumph at her explanation. For an instant it even seemed like maybe she understood him. He, however, didn’t give even a flicker of a response. In fact, he spoke as if she hadn’t said a word.
“Why don’t I show you the rest of the office.” He placed a hand at the small of her back and guided her to the doors behind the receptionist desk.
Wow. Wasn’t that interesting?
Apparently, he had a nice big tender spot where his childhood was concerned and she’d just trampled all over it.
As soon as they were out of earshot of the other partygoers, she pulled away from him. “Look, Dex, I didn’t mean to offend you.”
He raked her face with a dispassionate gaze. “I’m not offended.” With one hand shoved firmly in his pocket, he gestured broadly with the other one. “These offices—”
“Excuse me, but you obviously are offended.” When he turned back to face her, she saw that his jaw was clenched, his eyes shuttered. “You’ve clearly got this enormous Do Not Disturb sign right where your childhood memories should be and—”
“Don’t analyze me.”
She held up her hands in acquiescence. “Trust me, I’m not trying to. It doesn’t take much effort to see that you still resent your parents for mistakes they—”
“The word mistake implies ‘accident.’ When you take your kids out of school and drag them halfway across the continent every time you want to dig in the dirt, that’s not a mistake. That’s a decision.”
“Okay, so maybe your parents made some poor decisions.” She gentled her tone. “You will, too, someday. All parents do.”
“No,” he said quietly but with firm finality. “Parents should do what’s right for their child. Not just what they want, but what their child needs.” With that, he turned his back on her and gestured toward a wall of cubicles to his left. “These offices belong to the junior researchers…”
Just like that, he continued with his tour of the office like she’d never even brought up the subject. And here she thought she had issues with her own childhood.
Of course, she did have issues—maybe everyone did. But she worked to overcome them. To find success and happiness in life despite the rough patches of youth.
In recent years, she and her father had come to a kind of peace in their relationship. And until this recent debacle, she’d have said she and Jewel were closer than they’d ever been. And she had Isabella. Her last, best hope to have the kind of family she’d always dreamed of.
But Dex?
He seemed closed off from everyone in his family. If he had any fond memories of his childhood, he sure wasn’t sharing them with her.
Which, she supposed, wasn’t surprising.
After all, what connection did they really share? They’d lived in the same house for a while and had had sex once. Well, twice, if you looked at it from his point of view.
Yes, they had Isabella in common, but that was it.
It was time she faced facts. He may be ready to let Isabella into his heart, but he was keeping that door firmly closed to her.
Twelve
L ucy barely paid attention to the tour she received of Messina Diamonds’ six floors of offices. It was much as she expected: cubicles, offices, hundreds—if not thousands—of geological maps rolled up and stored, taped down to tables, tacked to walls. Most of the research and development was out of this office, Dex had explained.
He talked to her about the process of looking for diamonds, where they thought the next big find would come from, how long they estimated the mines would stay in production. And he did it all with a cool efficiency that bordered on impatience. Blah de blah, blah, blah. He told her nothing she wanted to know.All of that information he kept firmly under wraps.
From what she’d read, she gathered his one true childhood home had been in Dallas. Was that why Messina Diamonds still had an office here? And if he had no fond memories of his childhood, why did he still live here? Why not in Toronto, New York or Antwerp?
But Dex didn’t answer any of those questions. Geesh, he didn’t even give her time to ask them. Her tour of Messina Diamonds was like a military strike. Fast, precise and a little chilling.
And just when her patience was about up, he ushered her into a spacious corner office with breathtaking views of the city. Unlike the other rooms she’d toured, this one was warm and inviting. The two walls not made up of windows were wood paneled. Centered in each of the shadow-box panels was a framed photo of his family. An oversized mahogany desk dominated the room, flanked on either side by dark leather chairs. Stacks of papers and folders littered one wing of the desk.
The overall effect was elegancy tempered by a sort of cozy clutter. It was a pleasantly intimate glimpse of his everyday life.
“So, this is your office,” she murmured.
To her surprise, Dex turned around. “No. Actually, this is Derek’s office.”
“Oh.” And if that wasn’t enough to deflate what little enthusiasm she’d had for the tour, she didn’t know what was.
“Have a seat.”
Why had she even come here? she wondered as she lowered herself to the cushy leather wingback.
She’d never felt more out of place and she couldn’t help wondering if this tour had been designed to impress or intimidate.
“If it’s not your office, why are we even here?”
“Because of this.” Dex turned to one of the larger framed photos of his family.
But before she could even glimpse the picture, he swung the frame away from the wall to reveal a wall safe.
“Oh.” She sank back into her chair. “How exciting.”
Why wouldn’t he tell her something? Anything about his past? And why was she so desperate to know? But she knew the answer before her mind had even finished forming the question. Once he trusted her, once he opened up and told her a truth about himself, somehow it would be easier to tell him her truth. Tell him all about her charade and hope that it wasn’t too late to ask for some forgiveness.
If Dex noticed her sarcasm, he didn’t comment on it. He spun the dial on the wall safe a few times and then that door swung open, too.
From it, he pulled out a roll of black velvet. Not unlike the fabric used by the jeweler she’d visited earlier that day. She couldn’t say why, but dread began to swirl in her stomach.
“For years now, Derek has been working toward vertical integration.”
“I see,” she murmured, even though she had no idea what that had to do with anything.
“Owning the diamond mines is certainly profitable. But he’s been working to open a subsidiary of Messina Diamonds in Antwerp to handle the cutting, polishing and wholesale selling of our stones, as well.”
This cold and formal discussion of business expansion actually relaxed her. He wasn’t going to do something stupid. To him, diamonds weren’t jewelry, they were business.
He crossed the desk in front of her, cleared a spot and unrolled the velvet. The rectangle of fabric was only slightly larger than a legal sheet of paper. A dozen diamonds glittered against the inky velvet.
Still, she couldn’t quite stifle her gasp at the sight of all those rocks twinkling up at her. No woman in the world was immune to such beauty.
Unsure what he expected her to say, she said, “And these are from your mine?”
“They’re the first batch to come out of the newly formed Messina Cutting House. I inspected them and brought them back during my recent trip to Belgium.”
“I see.” Though of course she didn’t. His world was miles apart from her own. Diamonds, cutting houses, trips to Europe—it was all so foreign to her. She’d once been sent to corporate headquarters in Des Moines, but that was hardly the same thing.