Page 28 of Blackmail of a Billionaire

“Now that, I do disagree with. I think the experience has not only done what it was intended to but provided some…fringe benefits.”

Grant poked a finger at him. “That’s where you’re wrong, Worthington.”

The fringe benefits Worthington suggested weren’t legitimate. And he had no right to hold her to anything. The sad realization melted some of the anger, leaving behind only remorse.

A pang of something else he couldn’t quite name twisted in his chest. He had no right, no claim to her heart. Yet, the thought of her with someone else twisted a knife in a wound he hadn’t known he possessed. Their agreement was clear and emotionless, so why did this feel like a betrayal?

“Am I?” Worthington asked as he delivered Grant’s sleepwear to him.

“Yes, definitely.”

“That remains to be seen, sir.”

Grant wanted to prove Worthington wrong at that moment. But he felt like he would choke on the words as they came out. Could he actually admit Julia had told someone else she loved them?

“Is there anything else, sir?”

“No, that’s it for the night. Thank you, Worthington.”

The man nodded and strode to the door. “Good night, Mr. Harrington. Try to remember that things are not always as they seem. Mrs. Clarke’s miraculous resurrection should have made that clear.”

Grant slid his eyes closed at the cheery statement. He’d rather hurl his glass across the room than take solace in deluding himself. Those glimmers of Julia he’d seen, the ones that had set his heart on fire in a way he’d never expected, weren’t his.

They’d never be his.

That stung more than anything. He understood why she’d pulled away earlier, why she’d said he owed her nothing. She wanted nothing from him.

He changed his clothes, his thoughts hollow before he slipped into bed. In the darkness, the cavernous space shadowed the turmoil in his mind. Memories of his previous marriages haunted him. Each one provided a stark contrast to what he felt for Julia.

In the end, each marriage had been revealed to be more of a transaction than a relationship, cold exchanges devoid of warmth. His previous wives had wanted something from him. Wealth and status, mainly, but Julia wanted nothing material from him. Her indifference strayed from his previous wives’ calculated affections. Her behavior was foreign to him, enigmatic, making her possibly unattainable. What could he offer her?

When he rose the next morning, he felt little relief. Why did this feel so different from any other relationship? Perhaps it was because, despite having a contract, he had less control over her than any of his other wives.

He scoffed at the statement as he rose for a shower. What control did he have over them? All four had left him.

His mind remained unclear as he pulled on his suit jacket. “Is everything all right, Mr. Harrington?” Worthington asked as he brushed any stray lint from the shoulders.

“I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Very good, sir.” Worthington took his leave, understanding Grant had no desire to talk. He stared at himself in the mirror, adjusting his tie. His mind flitted to last night.

Julia had straightened his bow tie. It had felt so natural. And then she’d gone upstairs to tell another man she loved him.

His reflection blurred as the words from the conversation he’d overheard echoed in his mind. His fingers tightened around the silky fabric of the tie as turmoil churned inside of him. It wasn’t just the words, but the lightness in her voice that pierced him, a contrast to the heavy silence that now filled his room.

He stared into his own icy blue eyes. What had happened to him? Why did she affect him so deeply?

He tore his eyes away, forcing himself to move downstairs for breakfast. As his heels clicked off the cold marble floor he was reminded how empty his house had felt before Julia lived here. As if on cue, her voice floated in the air with a single word. “Yes.”

“I’ll have James bring your car around,” Worthington answered.

She was going out. But James would know where she went. Good.

“No need, I’ll head down there for the keys.”

“Are you quite certain? And no breakfast?”

“Not today,” she answered. “And, yes, I’m certain. It’s no trouble at all, and the truth is I’m running a little late.”

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