Page 12 of Love Lies


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“You don’t want to know who your admirer is? Seems a little strange, don’t you think?” The gift had caught me off guard, and her question brought me back to reality. As far as anyone else was concerned, I was in a relationship with the Skip Turner. I didn’t know if she was actually privy to this information or if she was simply a courier.

“Oh, I do. I just haven’t gotten the chance to wake up fully. Plus, I’d rather do it by myself, if you don’t mind?”

“Well,” she paused for much longer than necessary, “of course, I don’t mind,” She said with a smile. “Welcome to Cupid’s Cove, Ms. Dupree. My name is Maryland, and I’m sure we’ll be seeing plenty of each other.” She winked, wrapping her hand around the doorknob, and closed it behind her.

“Stupid devil,” I grouched, tossing the box on the bed and sat beside it. I accepted the gift to keep up appearances, but that didn’t mean I had to open it. My cell rang moments later, and I picked it up to read the number. I didn’t recognize it and knew I hadn’t given my number to many, so it was probably a telemarketer. As soon as the ringing stopped, there was a loud knock on my door, followed by another.

“Fiona, open the door,” Skip called from the other side.

“Go away,” I said in a sour tone, instantly irritated.

“I’m giving you the chance to open the door before I open it myself.”

“I’m naked,” I lied.

“Even better. Let. Me. In,” he ordered, in a voice similar to mine. Good. I wanted him to be upset. I had agreed to be here, not to be nice to him.

The doorknob turned, the door opened, and I jumped to my feet, my arms covering my body out of instinct, and then I remembered I didn’t care what he thought. I dropped my hands, not giving a damn if I didn’t have on a bra. I wasn’t trying to impress him in the slightest.

“I was calling to make sure it fit.”

“What?” I looked around the room for something that wouldn’t fit. Everything in this room either belonged to the bed and breakfast or me, so their size shouldn’t be in question.

“Open the box.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes.”

My hands scrubbed over my face and through my unruly hair. Fourteen days. How bad could it be? I was currently between jobs but had worked plenty of jobs I hated longer than two weeks. I needed to grit my teeth and push through this. Years down the road, I hoped this would be an unimportant distant memory.

“A dress? I don’t do red.” I shook my head, refusing to admit I liked it. It’s simplicity only added to its beauty, but I wouldn’t tell him that.

“You do now.” His jaw tensed as he watched me with such intensity. “Try it on.”

“I’m not trying this on in front of you.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know you.”

“You’re mine for two weeks, monster, or did you forget?” He lifted the dress, hooking his finger through a sleeve, and pushed it toward me.

“I told you I wasn’t your sex slave.”

“I’m not asking you to be.”

“Then why would I change in front of you?”

“For fucks sake, I want to make sure it’s the right size. If you are worried about me seeing your flawless tits, you should have kept them under your arms. That shirt doesn’t leave much to the imagination. Don’t get me wrong, I could stare at them for the rest of eternity and die a happy man, but coupled with who they’re attached to, they lose their appeal.”

Ouch!I didn’t expect his words to hurt me, and definitely did not think they would hurt as much as they had. I still didn’t care about his opinion, but what he said stung.

“Fine,” I said, gripping the bottom of my shirt, lifting it over my head, and tossing it onto the bed.

“What are you doing?” he abruptly said, his attention immediately focusing on the ceiling. So, the devil was a liar, too. I did affect him.

“I’m trying on the damned dress,” I said, reminding myself not to smile. Two could play his games. I dropped my shorts to the ground next and throw them in his direction. They sailed past his face, and he groaned as his eyes locked with mine.

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