Page 44 of The Player

He waited for her to deny his accusation, desperately wanted her to, but she stood there, staring at him with sorrow and regret, and he had his answer.

‘I could lose everything,’ he said, anger making his hands shake. His fingers curled into fists and he shoved them into his pockets. ‘The bulk of your advance came out of my pocket. Three hundred grand’s worth.’

He should feel more panicky about the precarious position he’d placed his own company in to save his dad’s—the advance was only the start, because he’d poured another half a million into the marketing budget for the biography too—but all he could think about was how Liza had lied to him. How she’d withheld the truth from him.

Just like his dad.

He’d told her about Quentin not trusting him enough, about how it affected him. Hell, she’d even given him that pep talk.

Yet she’d gone and done the same regardless.

‘I earned that advance.’ Her flat monotone made him want to shake her to get some kind of reaction. ‘I gave you the story you wanted.’

‘So what? I should be grateful?’ His bitterness made her flinch. ‘I should’ve known better than to trust someone like you.’

She paled but didn’t say anything, her lack of defence riling him further.

‘Guess you played me like those other poor suckers in your biography,’ he said, not proud of the low blow but lashing out, needing to hurt her as much as she’d hurt him.

That’s when the real truth detonated.

He wouldn’t care this much, wouldn’t be hurting this much, if he hadn’t fallen for her.

A woman who didn’t trust him, a woman who thought nothing of their developing relationship, a woman who’d done all of this for the money only.

Reeling from the realisation, he did the only thing possible.

Turned on his heel, strode out of the door, and slammed it behind him.

Chapter Twenty

Liza sank onto the nearest chair and clutched her stomach, willing the rolling nausea to subside.

She didn’t know what was worse: feeling as if she was about to hurl or the breath-snatching ache in her chest.

This was why she never let any guy get too close.

This was why she never should’ve let Wade into her life.

And into her heart.

Despite every effort to push him away and keep their relationship strictly business, he’d bustled his way in with charm and panache and flair. And she’d let him.

She knew why too. Because for the first time in forever she’d felt cherished. Spoiled. As if someone was looking out for her rather than the other way around.

She didn’t mind being Cindy’s carer but for a brief interlude in her life Wade had swept her off her feet and taught her what it felt like being on the other side.

‘Double mocha or double-choc-fudge brownies?’ Shar bustled into the room, pretending not to look at her while casting concerned glances out of the corner of her eye as she tidied up a stack of magazines.

‘Both,’ Liza said, knowing she’d be unable to stomach either but needing a few more minutes alone to reassemble her wits.

‘Okay. Back in a sec.’

Breathing a sigh of relief, Liza eased the grip on her stomach and stretched. Rolled her shoulders. Tipped her neck from side to side. It did little for the tension making her muscles twang but at least she wouldn’t get a spasm on top of everything else.

Wade had ousted her lies. Worse, he thought she was ashamed of Cindy, when nothing could be further from the truth. And the fact he hadn’t let her explain, had stood there and hurled accusations at her, hurt.

Maybe she should’ve trusted him with the truth. But her motives had been pure. She’d done it all for Cindy. Would do it again if it meant protecting her sister.

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