Page 176 of The Temporary Fiancée
It’s chilly out on the front porch, but not freezing; I’m fine with just the blanket around my shoulders. I look up at him, and he gazes back at me, emotions burning in his eyes.
After several seconds of silence, I ask, “What do you want?”
He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again, like he’s been made speechless by my presence.
“What are you doing here, Reed?”
“You didn’t take the money,” he says.
I frown, my brow furrowing. “What are you talking about? Of course I didn’t.”
“I—” He shakes his head. “I thought that you took the money. I thought that you took that check and left.”
My eyes widen. “No! Why would you think that?”
“Well… you left.”
The conversation I overheard in the Eastwood Hotel building comes rushing back to me, and I swallow hard. “Of course I left.”
“What do you mean, ‘of course?’”
“I heard you,” I confess. “Talking to your father, in your office that morning. He… he came by the penthouse, offering me ten million dollars to walk out of your life.”
“I know,” he says. “He told me. But… I thought you took it.”
“No!” I shake my head, staring at him. “Of course I didn’t take it! I tried to come straight to your office to talk to you, but you were already talking to him. And I heard you say…” I pause, taking a breath, then blurt out, “I heard you agree with him that I wasn’t wife material.”
He lets out a quick breath that might be a startled laugh. “Oh, Olivia… no, this is all a misunderstanding.”
“How? How could it possibly be?”
“I was telling my father that I love you,” he says earnestly. “That I don’t care about anything else. That I don’t care about status, or wealth, or what other people would think of our relationship.”
He reaches out a tentative hand to lay it on my upper arm, and I let him. His touch is as electric as ever, and it makes me feel warm and wide awake, despite the cold and the hour.
“I tried to call you. I wanted to talk to you as soon as he got out of my office. But you didn’t answer, so I went straight home… and you were gone.”
His hand drops.
“My father had told me about the money he offered you. I assumed you’d taken it. I couldn’t believe it.”
“No,” I say quickly, breathless. “No. I would never.”
“I found the check in your room tonight.” He reaches into his pocket, pulling out the two slips of blue-gray paper. “I knew you hadn’t. And I came straight here.”
My hand rises to cover my mouth, to hide my sudden smile. Reed never said what I thought he said to his father. It was all Lionel, trying to push us apart.
He reaches for me again, pulling me into his arms, and gazes down at me. “I want to be with you,” he says softly. “There’s no one else I want to spend my life with. I mean it.”
He leans down, and I rise to meet him. We share a kiss, gentle, tender, and quiet.
When we break apart, there are tears running down my cheeks, and I can’t put my finger on why until he speaks again.
“I want you to come back,” he says. “Please. I want you to move in with me again.”
My heart feels like it’s cracking.
“I can’t.”
