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While it came as no surprise that Gwyneth meant to wheedle Liam into her life, watching the manipulative wheels spin in her head made Hammer’s stomach roll.
“I’ll do whatever I can to make it right,” she confessed. “I’m simply not sure what that is.”
“You want my advice?” Wow, did she have nerve.
Her chin quivered. “I’m determined to prove to Liam that I’ve changed.”
Hammer doubted there was any hope of that.
“He’s the sort of man who will be an active father to his son. And for Kyle’s sake, it’s imperative they foster a relationship now.”
“You think the kid needs him, huh?”
“Maybe you think I’m foolish to believe that Kyle’s emotional well-being is in jeopardy.” She sniffled delicately. “But without his father, my little boy will suffer a lack of knowledge, understanding, bonding—love—that only Liam can give.”
Hammer didn’t doubt that Liam would fill those roles without exception…if he were Kyle’s father.
“So will I.” Gwyneth reached up and cupped his face, surprising Macen. “You and I… Well, there’s always been a certain friction between us. I regret that. You’re Liam’s best friend. I’m his wife, so—”
“Ex,” Hammer cut in.
She smiled tightly, as if dismissing that technicality. “You’d certainly like to continue to have him in your life, as would I. So let’s put our hostility aside and bury the hatchet.”
Was she fucking serious? Gwyneth certainly wanted him to think so, based on the pleading note in her voice. He tried not to snort in her face.
He’d let her assume she’d hooked him—for now.
“Actually, I’d like to bury the hatchet, too.” In your head.
“Really? Oh, thank you, Macen.” She stepped toward him and hugged him tight. “I’m so relieved. Maybe…you’ll help me convince Liam that I love him so we can be a family?”
Hammer had to swallow the urge to puke, but he managed to keep his expression benign. “You’ll have to do that on your own. I’ll never lift a finger to help you hurt him again.”
She drew back as if he’d slapped her. “You’re still a bitter, selfish man, thinking of yourself rather than Liam. Pity.”
“And you’re a manipulative hag, so we understand one another.”
Resignation crossed her face. “You know…early this morning, I was sleepwalking. I inadvertently stumbled into Liam’s room.”
Stumbled, my ass.
“When I woke, I was so excited to see traces of Liam. Then I discovered a woman is staying with him. I smell her perfume on you, too. I gather you’re…sharing her?” She sent him a pitying expression. “Macen, what will you do when she becomes your next Juliet?”
At her low blow, a violent rush of fury surged up his body and slammed through his brain. Hammer tensed, curled his fingers into fists. If he didn’t, he would wrap them around her neck and squeeze until every ounce of life left her body.
He stared her down, willing his expression blank. “You’ve got a good nose.”
Gwyneth smiled, reminding him of a fucking politician—all flash, no substance. Total bullshit. “Well, I’m sure your little fling will pass before the poor girl does anything tragic. But Liam’s heart is too big to be content with your leftovers forever simply to help you recover from your terrible mistake.”
Hammer held in a snarl. “I thought we were ending our hostility, Gwyneth? Insulting me and my late wife doesn’t seem very friendly at all.”
“Oh, Macen.” Somehow, she managed to look torn as she reached out to him and cupped his arm. “You’re misunderstanding me again. Of course that’s not what I meant. What I’m trying to say is that my heart will fulfill Liam in every way. And for his sake, I worry about you. I think it’s time you found a woman who can love you for good. Or haven’t you been able to find one?”
Hammer had never hit a woman in anger. I might make an exception for you, you snatch-faced cunt.
Clinging to the last thread of his temper, he pasted on a smile. “Since we’re starting over, I presume we’re speaking honestly?”
“Of course,” she replied with a look of innocence.
“I told Liam not long after you two tied the knot that you were a scheming whore. I hated to be proven right, but I wasn’t surprised at all.”
Hammer watched Gwyneth waffle between a contrived shock and her usual haughty ice-queen demeanor. Her body tensed with an almost palpable hum. “I beg your pardon?”
“You’ve got two choices,” he drilled her in a calm, low voice. “One, you tell me exactly why you’re here. Once you do, I’ll write you a big fat check. Then you’ll haul your ass back to London so that neither Liam nor I will ever see, hear, or speak to you again.”
She peeled back her lips in a scathing, humorless smile. “You can’t afford me.”
“You sure you don’t want to try me? Give me a price and see if I’ll meet it.”
