She was probably right. "I should go find Peter."
She stood. She should have asked for details sooner. She was throwing away her chance, and she refused to continue on this path. Hopefully, Peter would forgive her.
Chapter Twenty Four
Peter unlocked the door to his home. Caro, the maid, ran away like she was frightened, despite the fact she'd been here in the house since she was a baby. Silence greeted his ears, but he smelled Chanel perfume. Now he understood. He narrowed his eyes, as he went toward his bar to fix himself a cocktail. Belle's words haunted him.
Then he heard a high heel click on the floor. His skin had no reaction, and the air was filled with Jennifer's perfume.
He grinded his teeth and called out, "Jennifer."
His eyes widened as she stepped out from the next room in black lingerie that showed off her ample cleavage. He held the empty glass firmly in his hand as he asked, "What are you doing here?"
"I missed you."
She sashayed over to him, and the flowery perfume curled his nose. He didn't budge or soften any of his muscles. She came over and wrapped her arms around him.
Her breasts pushed against his chest as she hugged him. "I made a huge mistake when we broke up."
He put the cup down and stepped out of her arms. Then he wiped his shirt like she might have put her makeup all over him.
Once clear of her, he said, "Jennifer, I'm not stupid."
She flinched, but then opened her eyes like she saw through him. Even her makeup was expertly done for this moment.
His body tensed as she said, "I never thought you were."
Once again Jennifer had gone too far, but this time it wasn't other people's lives. It was his. He cracked his knuckles, but then stepped away from her. Belle deserved better than this bitterness.
"Did you honestly think I didn't know about your vindictive streak and how you set out to stop Belle and me?"
Her lips parted as she batted her eyes. Jennifer was like a teenage girl who had never grown up, and she had no idea. Life wasn't like one of her telenovelas. She stepped forward and brushed her cleavage against his arm.
He tugged his hand away as she said, "Is it so wrong I'm not over you? I have told you before, even in high school, you had my heart and soul. We’re good together."
Nothing she did was okay. He'd start at the beginning. There would be no more her coming over here or interfering with his life. Security would alert him from now on, but he'd tell her.
He swallowed. "Months ago, you were hostile to Alice for simply coming to my father's funeral."
"Alice and I are friends now." She covered her lips and shook her head as if her denial mattered. "Peter—"
Her words didn't matter. He interrupted. "Then with Colt you were stuck up and derided my sister's choice."
She rubbed her throat and then put her hands on her hips like she had anything to argue with him about. "Your sister had just come back into our lives. She was my best friend, and she wanted to move to Homestead, Florida. You understood."
He understood. He let her break up with him, so she'd go away without this conversation. Clearly she hadn't moved on.
He glared at her as he said in a low voice, "Jennifer, we don't suit each other."
Again she pushed her body into his as if sex would solve all problems. She pushed him toward the bar. He placed his hands on her hips and spun her around to free himself.
She wrapped her arms around his waist. "Peter, you and I always understood each other."
This delusion had hurt Belle. Somehow she mattered to him more than he had thought. He stayed close to Jennifer and coldness inched up his spine as he held her. "No, I dated you because you were here, and I didn't have to go look for anyone. Not because I had some great feelings for you one way or the other. I am sorry if that hurts you."
"Never apologize to me." His fingers were like ice, but she didn't budge out of his arms. "You're upset right now."
That was it. His muscles were sore, but he held slow, steady breaths so she'd understand everything. "Do you know why my father liked you, Jennifer?"
Her eyes widened as he stepped out of her arms and poured himself a drink. He kept the one glass and refused to make her one. She was not staying.
She placed her fingers on his hand. "Mitch was a horrible human being, but he had good taste."
Good taste was her belief? Peter's eyes must have grown bigger. He controlled his tone as he angled his body away from her.
"You have no idea. Dad approved of dating you because you were pretty on the arm and easily cut off if you ever got in the way."
She threw her hands in the air as if she was hurt by what he had said. "I don't understand. You never cared what your father said about anyone."
His muscles twitched, and he tensed. This was it. He sipped his drink and remembered his dad's blue eyes. His dad had always said to get people to back into a corner with the truth of what they had done.
"True, but his advice never leaves my head. I will always hear his voice. Did you go and hunt down Belle to tell her about the bet in hopes that she'd leave me?"
Her face went white. It was hard to see through her makeup, but he had spent too much time with her.
"Peter...I..."
He inched closer like his presence might get her to tell the truth as he glared into her brown eyes. "Did you sabotage the one good thing I had going in my life?"
"You once said I was the best thing in your life." She took a deep breath. "And I didn't think you truly cared about her."
"You were wrong." He sipped his drink as life lessons from how his father destroyed people flew through his mind. "Then I should listen to my father's advice for once."
She licked her glossy lips. "What was that?"
Mitch Morgan would have ensured she ended up penniless and desperate and that she knew who had destroyed her. Peter channeled his father and wanted to take everything she valued from her. Then he swallowed. He wasn't his father.
"Go. Part of me wanted to ensure you had nothing left, but we're over, Jennifer. We've been over for a long time. I need you to accept that and move on. Rafe's a nice guy."
He stopped. He'd not be his father.
"He's a cop." Jennifer took his pause to mean something else. She grabbed his arms and held them to her breasts. "Peter, you're overreacting. We can move forward."
He'd not be heartless to Jennifer's mother, who had been kind to him with her never-ending pastilitos and Cuban coffee. She didn't have much, but she was kind. Peter recalled this, so he had a nicer picture in his head.
"Jennifer, you are better off with Rafe. We both know it. Go home."
She threw herself into his arms as if she was desperate. "Peter, Belle didn't love you."