Page 53 of The Billionaire's Marriage Dare

“And yet I know,” Christian said hoarsely, “I’m hurting you. I know I’m causing you more pain than you deserve. So you tell me, Jane—-”

Their eyes met.

“Is this really love?”

A sob escaped her.

“You understand now,” he asked tonelessly, “don’t you?”

Yes. Yes. She did, and it was killing her.

“Goodbye, Jane.”

He was saying that they might love each other, but it didn’t mean they were right for each other.

“Thank you...for everything.”

She watched Christian reach the door, and this time she didn’t try to stop him. She could only cry and let the tears blur her vision, knowing that the moment she could see clearly again—-

He would be gone.

Chapter Twelve

For a few days, Jane stayed curled up in bed, licking her wounds and drowning herself in self-pity.

He had left her.

He had hurt her.

He had never loved her.

She said this over and over in her mind, but somehow her heart couldn't seem to start hating him and stop loving him. Somehow, her heart insisted on a lot of foolishly hopeful things.

Things like—-

If I try one more time, maybe he’ll listen to me.

If I find a way to help him fix things, maybe he’ll realize he’s wrong.

If I prove to him someone like me can be right for him, maybe he’ll love me back.

And in the end, that was all it took.

It gave Jane the energy to leave her bed, freshen up, and shove food down her throat before making her way to Christian’s office. When she reached reception, she was nervous as hell, thinking that Christian might have already informed his staff about their breakup.

But the receptionist only looked at her with a strained smile. “Good afternoon, Ms. Cooper. The boss has locked himself in the work lab with the I.T. folks, but perhaps you’d like to wait for him in his office?”

Relief struck Jane as she realized that the receptionist appeared unaware of her falling out with Christian. Clearing her throat, she stammered, “If it’s okay, I’d just like to pay a visit to his P.R. department. I might be able to lend a hand in some way.”

“Of course, Ms. Cooper. P.R. is on the third floor, second door to the right, and—-” The receptionist grimaced. “They’re having a crisis right now, so I’m pretty sure you won’t miss it.”

“Thanks.” Jane mulled over the woman’s puzzling words as she took the elevator to the third floor. A crisis? Hadn’t the FBI made sure none of Christian’s trouble would be made public? And what about her not missing the P.R. office?

When the doors slid open, however, she knew immediately what the receptionist meant with the latter. Sounds of loud sobbing, punctuated with a little bit of screaming and arguing, filled the hallway, and all of it came from one room.

Jane knocked on the glass door, but it was predictably ignored, the sound swallowed by the chaos inside the office. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open and when she stepped in, that was when everyone stopped speaking and turned to stare at her in open-mouthed shock.

They were all so young, Jane realized in surprise. They were completely the opposite of the tough-talking veterans that made up Christian’s business team or the urbane-looking geniuses working in his I.T. department. The ten or so individuals frozen in front of Jane looked like they had been recruited straight out of college, and a thought occurred to her, causing Jane to hastily fight back a smile.

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