Page 36 of Ruthless Love

The question I don’t want an answer to pushes past my lips. “Why’d you do it, Austin? Why would you care what I do with that ring?”

Chapter Nineteen

AUSTIN

The rise of my chest lifts both our bodies as I suck in a deep breath. Before I can answer her question about why I jumped in after her ring, she asks, “You being at Dimitri’s wasn’t a coincidence, was it?”

Then she softly adds, “Are you using me? To get close to Dimitri? No hard feelings if you are,” she says, though I can feel her body stiffen as she struggles with the small lie. “Just tell me.”

I loosen my grip, caressing her forearm lightly with my thumb. “There’s a part of my life I can’t talk about, Evie.”

She nods in understanding, though she has no way of doing so. “So, you are after Dimitri. And me.”

“No.” I sigh as I lean my chin onto the top of her head. “I know you’re not part of his world. Not really. And I’m not trying to get close to Dimitri. Quite the opposite.”

I know her confusion has set in when she pulls away just enough to see the truth in my eyes. In response, I smile. “I’m trying to get close to you. Find out why you’re with a guy like Dimitri Antonov.”

She thinks for a moment, and she reveals the first tell I recognize—the way she bites her lip and frowns. She’s ready with a lie, but I don’t let it come out.

“Don’t, Evie. I’m not here to use you or expose you. I just ...”

With an intimacy and closeness I can’t avoid, I run my hand over her hair, brushing a few golden strands away to better see her worried face.

“I just want to make sure the little baker girl across the street has someone watching out for her. I promise, I’ve got your back. You want to break things off with a man like that, you need to be careful. Smart. And for God’s sake, don’t throw his shit in the goddamn ocean.”

A deep chuckle accompanies my solemn words, and she responds with a light laugh as my gaze drops to the smile lifting her supple lips.

“How the hell else can I convince the stubborn bastard that we’re through? That I’m not marrying him?”

Tenderly, I probe her for answers, not wanting to break the closeness between us. And not with my probe. “What does he have on you, Evie?”

“What?” she asks, incensed at my suggestion as she pulls away. “Oh, sure. You think some rich and powerful man has something on me? That I’m being forced into marrying the ninth richest man in the world?” Her big eyes narrow at the idiotic assumption.

I toss back her own words against her, trying to lob the argument as softly as I can. “You said it yourself. You’re not in love with the man, so why marry him? You hardly strike me as a gold digger.”

Surprise lights her eyes. “You might be the only person on the planet who thinks that. That I’m not in it for the money.”

Her self-deprecating words are her defenses going up. Releasing her, I back away.

“You think you have a reputation as a gold digger?”

Huffing, she whips around in somewhat of a heated attempt to ignore me.

“Fine. Suit yourself. You’re a gold digger. You, who could be living in a mansion with servants and Bentleys, yet prefer a small and fairly average pocket of suburbia. And why not? The house is in your name, and your Mercedes is an older classic but owned outright. You, who could be on an all-expenses-paid shopping spree or yachting across Europe, courtesy of Mr. Antonov, prefer to do that vile upper-crust action called work. And without pay.”

Whirling back to gape at me, she asks, “How do you know that?” Her question has a tinge of alarm.

“Relax. It’s not like the Longs gave your secrets away. After our meeting at Dimitri’s mansion, I couldn’t shake the feeling that none of this was a coincidence. So I—”

“You investigated me,” she says matter-of-factly, the shock fully setting in.

“More like I know a guy—”

“Now you sound like Dimitri.”

The rumble that erupts from deep within my chest causes Evie to giggle, and she tenderly touches me there before her restraint returns. Not letting on how much I enjoy it, I continue.

“You’re not on Long Multinational’s books or anyone else’s because you have your own wealth. Tucked in two US accounts as well as one overseas, which I’m guessing is a precaution and not tax evasion. As far as I can tell, it’s enough to keep you in the lap of suburbia forever. So the last thing you need is to marry for money. Or work for it, for that matter.”

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