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“Liars are easy to spot, Brianna. What’s going on?”
“I’m not a liar!” She hugged the picture to her chest. The edges of the photo frame bit into her sore breasts. “I just met you. You don’t get to interrogate me.”
“Maybe not.” His voice was colder than liquid nitrogen. “But I’d like to have known you were married before I asked you on a date. A better time to tell me? Before I slept with you. You lied to me.”
Her chest felt tight, like a scream had sunk its hooks into her from the inside and then balled itself up and refused to come out. “I didn’t lie.”
“I can’t believe you turned me into this man. The man that would break up a family.” He looked at her with such contempt she wanted to crawl under the desk and sob. Suddenly she felt like grade-school Brianna again, pathetic and unworthy.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, her voice cracking. “None.”
“I thought I had an idea who you were. A strong, intelligent, capable woman who just needed to come down from her ice castle. I wanted to know more.” His upper lip curled. “But now I know that if I really want to know something about you, I could go ask your husband.”
The hurt burning through her turned cold. “Get out before I call security to escort you.”
His entire body was tense, vibrating with anger. But it was his eyes that nearly killed her; it wasn’t anger she saw there but a bitter sense of betrayal. Hurt. Resignation.
“No need,” he said. “I know the way.”
And without another word, he walked out of her office and out of her life.
…
Thomas sat in his truck and stared sightlessly across the parking lot of the Golden Hand Casino. He should be driving away, but he didn’t have it in him to move just yet—and wasn’t sure if he could be trusted in busy traffic.
He should have known. Her furtive body language. That tan line on her finger. He’d thought it had looked old. Old enough that he could believe it was from an ex. But ex-wives didn’t have pictures of their ex-husbands on their desk.
More likely, she’d just made a fool out of both him and her husband—and made such a habit of it that she was more often without her wedding ring than with. Just like Nicole.
Nicole had left her wedding band on the nightstand every day. He’d wake in the morning and it would be there, mocking him. He’d tried to tell himself, the moment he realized that he wanted to see Brianna again, that she wasn’t Nicole. That not every woman was the lying, cheating bitch who’d used him, spat on him, and trapped him in a loveless marriage with nothing but nebulous promises of affection.
Maybe not every woman was Nicole, but he’d be damned stupid to ever trust one again. At least with Nicole it had all been there for him to see. The lies. The cheating. The laughter every time she broke his heart a little bit more.
But that sweet, trusting look on Brianna’s face when she’d clung to him…
The truth was, he just didn’t know. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but a stupidly idealistic part of him wanted to believe her— No. He was a fool, and he’d just ruined another man’s life the same way Nicole and her countless boy toys had ruined his. He’d sworn he’d never ever touch a married woman. Never hurt another man the way he’d been hurt so many times. The taste in his mouth was bitter, the acid in his stomach vile.
He turned the key in the ignition. The truck came to life, roaring the angry challenge that seemed to be stuck in Thomas’s throat. He needed to drop this and walk away. Even more of a reason to get this contract, turn his back on Vegas, and never look back. Even if it meant losing his job.
To hell with his job—and to hell with Brianna Faulk.
Chapter Seven
Brianna rolled on her stomach, pillow hugged close, and eyed the cell phone flung at the foot of the bed. The project portfolio from MotoTek was next to it with the neat little business card insert and its square paper slip of temptation. Temptation with Thomas’s cell phone number printed on it.
It had been two days since he stormed into her office, and then stormed right back out of it like a tornado consisting of pure lust and anger. So much anger. She shouldn’t even be thinking about calling him. He’d probably taken himself and his California-surfer good looks back to the MotoTek offices in San Francisco, anyway. It had been days, and she hadn’t heard from him. Not about the contract.
Not about them.
She’d tried to keep herself busy, but her mind kept drifting back to him. When he’d found that picture of her with Michael, she’d frozen. Panicked. The way he’d looked at her hadn’t helped. She’d grown past letting anyone look at her that way, letting anyone make her feel like she was inferior by their standards. The fact that he’d dared had infuriated her.
But if she’d been honest with him in the first place, he wouldn’t have had reason to.
She’d only lied by omission. She didn’t owe him anything, but that bitter look of betrayal in his eyes…as if she’d torn open an old wound she hadn’t even known was there. She wanted to tell him the truth. To at least give a clean ending to something that had never even really begun and restore their business relationship so they could painlessly conclude their transaction and part ways. She could partner with MotoTek to remodel and rebrand the casino. Thomas could continue on whatever path he went down after they parted ways.
And she could forget about that burning knot of hunger that clenched deep inside her body every time she thought about how he’d touched her.
She glanced at the clock. Nine thirty at night. In Vegas, nine thirty was practically morning. He’d still be up. She had purposely waited until the kids were in bed. She didn’t want him to hear their voices in the background and have him fly off the handle again. Not until she had a chance to explain everything to him. She smoothed her hands over her fluttering stomach, made herself pick up the phone, and punched his number.
