Beauty and the Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #2)(72)

“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.

And over time, perhaps the ache of it would go away. Perhaps he’d learn to not care that when she cried out under him, she was repulsed by his face and the scars that lined his body. Perhaps he wouldn’t mind that when she smiled, she was simply biding her time.

He’d simply have to become better at hiding his own emotions.

***

After a fitful night of sleep, Hunter awoke and dressed in one of his more somber suits. He’d confront Gretchen and offer her a new business deal this morning. But when he arrived at her suite, he found the room straightened and her heading for the door with her suitcase under one arm, cat carrier in the other.

“Where are you going?”

She looked surprised to see him, but then the hurt look returned to her face. She wasn’t good at masking her emotions. Maybe she never had to, not like him. Because right now she looked miserable and wounded. “I’m leaving. I just need to call a cab.”

He pretended to straighten his sleeves, adjusting his jacket. “You haven’t finished the project you were hired for.”

“It was delayed,” she said in a cutting voice. “Though I’m guessing the delay was just as manufactured as the project, wasn’t it?”

He didn’t deny it.

She sighed, as if defeated. “Good-bye, Hunter.”

“Wait.” He stopped her when she tried to move past him. “You need to hear what I’m going to say.”

A wary hope shone in her eyes and she paused, setting down her suitcase. “What is it?”