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She gaped at him. “That’s kind of cynical.”
“It’s very normal, in fact. When an area becomes valuable, in terms of real estate but the professions and lifestyles of occupants don’t keep up. When people learn they’re living on a gold mine, it’s very tempting to take the money and run.”
“And you’ve offered so much money.”
“I’ve offered above market value, in order to effect a quick settlement.”
“Why does it have to be quick?”
“Because time is money. I’ve already spent more time on this than I wanted,” he said, and there was something in his tone that told Maddie his confession had been accidental. Unintended and unwanted? Regretted, even.
“Is there something more important you need to move onto?” She pushed, enjoying the fact that her grandfather’s reticence to accept the deal might be causing the suave, sexy, arrogant Rocco Santoro some inconvenience.
“It is simply a question of value.”
“I’m sorry if my grandfather’s legacy is boring to you.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Yes, you did. You just admitted that time is money and I’m wasting your time.”
“Well, if we are to call a spade a spade, I believe that’s exactly what you’re doing.”
She gasped. “You’re the one who invited me here!”
“I do not mean this, here, with you and me,” he ground out. “I mean the house. You are prevaricating because you do not wish to sell, when you know it is the right thing to do. You are hesitating because you need time to come to terms with the sale, but the sale is inevitable.”
“I don’t believe that” she whispered, though on so many levels, deep, deep down, she had to admit that he was probably right. She couldn’t stop the inevitable, and the idea of living in the house, surrounded by some modern monstrosity he constructed on either side, filled her veins with ice. Not to mention what the surrounding development would do to the sale value of the house. It would tank it—because who’d want to live somewhere like that? And whatever nest egg Jack had built up by investing so wisely would be ruined. Because of her.
Because of her inability to let go of the house that had become a safety shell for her. A space of heart—a home when she had been utterly cast adrift.
He was right, and that only served to make her furious.
“I think you do. I think this is all about you, not your grandfather. Why is that, Maddie? Why is it that a grown woman who should be an independent part of the world is so wedded to the practical decisions of her grandparent? Why is it that you care so very much what happens to your grandfather’s house?”
Without any effort, he’d homed in on the crux of this issue. She floundered, looking for a response. “Shouldn’t I care?”
“Care, yes,” he amended with impatience. “But why overrule him?”
“He’s never told me he wants to sell,” she muttered.
“That’s not the same thing as whether or not you know it to be true.”
She threw back the remainder of her champagne and then glared at him with all her frustration and anger.
“You have a floristry business—a successful business at that.”
“How do you know whether I’m successful or not?”
“You have a large number of five-star reviews.”
Her jaw dropped. “You looked me up?”
“Do you really think there’s any stone I will leave unturned in trying to get this sale across the line?”
“Including seducing me?” she demanded.
He stood up then, and the veneer of his suave sophistication was nowhere to be seen. Rocco was all feeling; a brooding, angry billionaire, moving his large, powerful body closer to hers. “I literally told you two minutes ago that what’s happening between us is a separate issue.”
