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The woman was way too opinionated.

Michael ignored the warning. “Maybe you need a change from blonds. In fact, Suzy and I thought she might be the perfect antidote to Dana.”

Fresh annoyance surged through Connor at the memory of overhearing Suzy telling her friend that he’d been dumped by his girlfriend. And the sympathy in her eyes when she’d said she understood why he was upset.

Upset? Hell, he wasn’t upset. He was damned mad.

Mad at Dana. Mad at Paul Harper. Mad at Michael for divulging a confidence. And mad at the irritating, interfering witch who’d forced an apology out of him.

Breathing deeply, he said, “I gather you told Suzy all about Dana?”

Michael extracted a set of car keys from his pants pocket and activated the remote to unlock the doors. “How could I not? She would’ve found out anyway.”

“My business partner and my girlfriend…and I was the last to know.” Connor tried to laugh as he went around to the passenger side. “Soap opera stuff, huh?”

The raw hurt and betrayal that two days earlier had scorched all the way to his soul resurfaced. He hated the thought of people picking over the details of his devastated life.

“What Paul did was unforgivable.” Michael’s mouth was firm as he settled in the seat beside Connor. “And Dana was more than your girlfriend. The woman’s been living with you for nearly two years. Hell, you even made her a director of Harper-North.”

How Connor regretted Wednesday’s drunken bout of self-pity. He’d been away, laying the groundwork to open Harper-North’s first Australian office. On his return from Sydney, Dana had hit him with the news that their relationship was over. She had a new lover—the man he’d gone to university with, the man he’d founded a business with. His best friend. His former best friend.

Connor had gone to Michael’s house, gotten drunk, and blurted it all out. Dumb.

“The whole world shifted on its axis in the three weeks I was gone.” Connor raked his hands through his hair. It needed a cut. The mundane thought steadied him. “Came back to find my life in uproar and you planning marriage.” He shook his head. “Crazy.”

“Not that crazy. I’ve know Suzy a while, even though we only started dating about a month ago.”

“A month?” Connor raised his brows. “After two years I didn’t know what kind of treachery Dana was capable of. You should’ve taken more time.”

“A month. A year. Two years. It’s not going to make a difference to how I feel about Suzy.”

“So what makes you so sure Suzy isn’t after a lifelong meal ticket?”

A chuckle filled the car. “Mate, I’m not the billionaire here. I don’t wear thousand-dollar suits—” Michael gave Connor’s Armani a mocking inspection “—drive a Maserati, or live in a marble mansion.”

“I don’t live there anymore.”

This week’s showdown came back to haunt Connor. Paul had already moved into his house with Dana. But he’d wring every cent that he could from the pair of them in exchange for the mansion that Dana had craved…and the share of Harper-North that Connor had walked away from. They weren’t going to get off scott-free.

“Sorry.” The laughter faded from Michael’s eyes. “But trust me, Suzy’s not marrying me for money. She’s a teacher, just like me, so our incomes are pretty equal.”

Dana had been trying to wheedle an engagement ring out of Connor for ages. His thoughts came to a grinding halt. Had Suzy tricked Michael into a proposal with the oldest trick in the book?

“What about children?” Connor prodded. Dana had begged for a child. But Connor had resisted. He hadn’t wanted marriage—which he suspected was the real reason for Dana’s desperate desire for a child. A child would’ve been a mistake. They were both too busy for kids, he’d told her.

Michael turned the key in the ignition. His jaw had firmed and his hands gripped the steering wheel.

“I’m not asking if this woman’s already pregnant,” Connor lied hastily as the motor took. “Just wondering if she views you as a father figure for any children she has.” A high school guidance counselor, Michael would make the perfect mark for a solo mother wanting financial and emotional support.

“She doesn’t have any.” The reply was clipped.

“That’s a relief. I was worried she might be a desperate divorcée.” Connor paused as they rolled down a narrow lane lined with clipped hedges that hid the church from view.

“She’s divorced but she’s not desperate.” Michael’s jaw jutted out, a sign of the stubborn streak that usually remained hidden beneath his affable, calm exterior. “You’ll like Suzy, Connor—if you let yourself. There’s no catch.”

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