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“I wanted to do something nice for you. It seems I am a fool.”

Horror crashed through her. “You set this all up to bring me here. There’s no new publisher. The letters . . . are those fakes?” When he continued to be silent, her stomach churned. She felt sick. “No wonder the details never matched the house. It’s not this house, is it? None of it’s real. You basically paid me to come and live at your house for a month so I’d be around you and fall in love with you?”

His mouth twisted, the scar at the corner of his lip livid. “Don’t try and throw love into this now, Gretchen. We’re both not fools enough to believe you’re really in love with me.”

Revulsion hit her. She did love him, and he was a monster. “I can’t believe you did this,” she said brokenly. “I can’t believe you went to such levels just to try and get me to sleep with you.”

“It’s not like that,” he snarled.

“Isn’t it? Isn’t that what you did?” Gretchen waved an arm, furiously gesturing at her surroundings. She was angry, but more than that, she was hurt. Betrayed to her core. “Isn’t all this and me being here because you wanted to fuck me? Don’t you care that you’re ruining my life? You can’t just play with people’s livelihoods because you’re bored and lonely, Hunter Buchanan. Reality doesn’t work that way.”

“Doesn’t it? You certainly came running the moment you heard the dollar amount.”

She reeled as if struck. “You really do think that of me. After all we’ve been through.”

“What am I supposed to believe, Gretchen? That you saw my face and thought you needed to have a man like me? You’ll forgive me if I don’t quite fall for that again.”

She wanted to vomit. She had been excited about the money and the adventure. Now she wanted nothing to do with it. She just wanted to get away from here. Away from him and his awful, cold accusations. “Well, thank you for making me feel like a whore,” she told him in a light voice, though it trembled with control. “It’s good to know where I really stand with you. I thought I cared for you and that you cared for me, but I guess I was mistaken in that, wasn’t I?” She laughed bitterly. “I guess we’re both in love with a person who didn’t exist.”

He said nothing. After a long, pregnant pause, he began to type again.

The conversation was done. She shook her head sadly and left the room, closing the door behind her. As soon as the door closed, the tears began to flow. Hot and painful, Gretchen swiped at them but they seemed to keep coming no matter what she did.

You certainly came running the moment you heard the dollar amount.

The walk back to her lonely room seemed endless. The halls were silent and dark, Buchanan Manor as austere and forbidding and unfriendly as ever. When she opened the door, Igor looked up from his position on the foot of the bed and mewed a greeting.

She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, her limbs feeling heavy and lethargic. “We’re going home tomorrow, Igor,” she said softly. “We’re done here.”

The cat simply flicked an ear at her, and then lowered his head again.

It seemed no one was impressed with her lately. Figured. She headed to the bed and moved to stroke his ears. “I wonder if it was even you that knocked over that glass of water, Igor. I’m starting to think Hunter tramples on anyone just to get what he wants. No wonder he’s alone.”

But even as she said the words, she ached inside. Why was it that the man was slowly and methodically destroying her life and she wanted to comfort him? She must be crazy.

What was even sadder? Her accidental declaration of love hadn’t been a lie—she did love him.

She loved him, but she couldn’t be in a relationship with a man who claimed to love her but didn’t respect her and treated her like a pawn.

With a heavy sigh, Gretchen picked up her suitcase from under the bed and laid it flat. Time to pack.

Chapter 12

She’d lied to him the entire time.

The agony of it tore through Hunter all night. Over and over, he heard the conversation in his mind.

You know me. I’ll do anything for a paycheck.

He’d thought she was different. He’d dared to hope that someone as vibrant as Gretchen would care for him. No—he hadn’t even hoped for that. He’d simply wanted to be around her, to bask in her presence like an adulating teen boy. It was her who had made the first move, her who had seduced him and made him hope for more.

And that made it worse, so much worse.

Because now he knew what he was missing out on. He craved her body and wanted her curled up against him. Wanted to sink deep inside her and forget the outside world. Wanted to hear those soft cries she made when he pleased her. He wanted to talk to her, hear her laughter, see her eyes shining with joy.

He didn’t want her to go. Even after all that had been said and done, a heartless woman at his side that pretended to love him was torture, but it was better than being alone.

He simply needed to swallow his pride and offer her a new kind of deal—no pretenses to their relationship. No lies. No pretending. Gretchen clearly had a price tag and he could pay it.

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