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My heart thunders in my chest for not a good reason, as if what he has to say is about me when that’s not even slightly possible. “Tell me.”

“Take a drink first.”

I sip long and deep, and he motions for me to hand him the glass. I don’t argue. I slide the glass his direction. He picks up the bottle and refills it, downing everything he’s poured before he says, “I have to marry within fifteen months, but first, I have to put on a show with myfiancéefor at least six months.My womanizer father wants me to marry for the good of the company.”

I can barely breathe, as in literally my lungs don’t want to draw in air for a full three seconds. My heart is now beating at a rate that I’m fairly certain means I’m screaming inside. “Is there a way out of it?” I hear myself ask, but my voice sounds hollow and distant.

“No,” he says, his expression stark. “He did something dirty with one of his cases years ago. I was co-counsel and therefore attached. If I fight the will, he arranged to make that public, which would get me disbarred and every case my father or I touched would be challenged. It would ruin the company. People will lose jobs. I’m the prisoner of a dead man.”

“There has to be a way out of this.”

“Of course, I’m looking at options, but for now, I have to move forward as if this is irreparable.”

“This is insane, Tyler. I mean, what next? You interview potential fiancées?”

“My attorney wants me to send him a list of potential candidates. He’ll check them out, pick one, and we’ll create a contract. Not long after the wedding, we’ll divorce.” He lifts the bottle. “Now you see why I’m drinking.”

This isn’t what I expected him to say. He’s just accepted this. He’s doing it. “This is crazy.” My voice trembles and a wave of just as crazy emotion washes over me. Emotion that feels like pain, hurt. I feel betrayed. I feel cheated on, which is illogical. He’s my boss, not my boyfriend. Certainly not my fiancé.

I lift his glass and down the contents, choking a bit with the volume of the liquid. “I need to go.” I try to stand up.

Tyler captures my hand, and I hate the tingles that run up my arm. “Bella—”

“Please, let go of me. I know you don’t understand how I feel right now because I don’t either, but I’m upset. I have no right to be upset but I can’t change the fact that I am. Upset. Very upset. I just…I need space. I need to go to bed and sleep and I’ll be me again tomorrow.”

“Don’t do this.”

“What is it I’m doing, Tyler, besides what you tried to do when you sent me to my room? I’m sparing us both a complication we don’t need.”

“I didn’t plan on whatever this is between us any more than I want to be in this position. Jobs and lives will be affected if I don’t do this.”

“You owe me no explanation.”

The waitress reappears by our table. “How are we doing over here?”

I grimace at her attention that’s meant for Tyler. “Maybe she can go on the list,” I suggest, and I jerk my hand from his. The minute I’m free, I slide out of the seat, snatch up my room key, and rush away. “Bella!” I hear Tyler call out, but I don’t look back.

He has a several thousand-dollar tab and a waitress to interview. He doesn’t need me.

I manage to make it into an elevator without falling apart. Once inside the empty car, my hand trembles but I swipe the keypad and punch in my floor. I hug myself and rock. He’s getting married. He’s going to be engaged any minute now to someone he used as a sex toy. Why do I even care? He’s a man with a list of women to fit this agenda. What does that say about him?

The elevator halts and the doors open. I all but fly out into the hallway. My God, I think I might have real feelings for Tyler. My eyes burn and I’m fighting back tears. I’m falling apart. I’m emotionally invested in Tyler, and I didn’t even see it happening. Maybe I have been for longer than I want to admit. Lord knows we had plenty of one-on-one meetings and dinners with clients. We are not new to each other.

My key isn’t opening the door. I press my hands to my face. I can’t go back down there right now. I can’t see him right now.

“Bella.”

My heart lurches at the sound of his voice and my name. I turn to find Tyler striding toward me and I can barely breathe all over again.What is he doing? “What are you doing, Tyler?”

By the time I’ve asked the question, he’s in front of me, dragging me to him, his powerful legs framing my legs, his fingers tangling into my hair. “This,” he murmurs, and then his mouth comes down on my mouth, and he’s kissing the hell out of me, right here in the hallway.

Chapter Forty

Bella

Tyler ravishes my mouth with his mouth, and any resistance I might muster up on behalf of my aching heart simply evaporates. If I had even one little bit of self-preservation left, I’d push him away and send him back to his list of prospective fiancées. But this is a fleeting thought, drowned out by the intoxicating taste of him, and the feel of his hard body pressing me against the door, caging me as if he assumes I will run.

I counter that assumption with my hands, running them up his back and folding myself into him, my breasts pressed to the solid wall of his chest, nipples puckered in tight little balls beneath the lace of my bra. My message, I hope, is clear. I don’t need to be convinced to stay one little bit. He seems to read me, and he doesn’t require additional encouragement. He reaches for my arm and drags it to my side, his hand catching mine, retrieving the key I’m still holding. Without a word, he swipes it across the keypad. The light turns green for him immediately, with no resistance at all, almost as if I was meant to wait in that hallway for him to find me.

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