Page 55 of The Player

She ignored the car idling on the kerb, ignored the electronic glide of a window sliding down.

‘Get in,’ Wade said. ‘I’ll take you home.’

Liza shook her head, willing the strength to return to her legs so she could make another dash for it. She needed to escape Wade and his kindness, not be confined in his car.

‘I’m not leaving until you do.’

She lifted her head, mustering a glare that fell short considering sweat dripped in her eyes and her hair stuck to her forehead in lank strands.

Then she glimpsed the devastation clouding his eyes and something inside her broke.

How could she treat this amazingly beautiful man so badly?

He didn’t deserve this. He deserved a friendly parting, a thank you for giving her a job and a lifeline at a time she needed it most.

So she sucked in her bruised pride and hobbled toward the car, feeling as if a baseball bat had battered her as she sank onto the plush leather seat.

He didn’t speak, intuitive to her needs until the very end, and it only served to increase her respect, love, and gratitude.

When Wade pulled up outside her house, she mustered what was left of her minimal dignity.

‘Thanks for everything.’ Her breath hitched and she continued on a sob. ‘I’ll never forget you.’

She fumbled with the door handle, tumbled out of the car, and bolted without looking back.

This time, he didn’t come after her.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Wade packed on autopilot. Suits in bags, shirts in the case, shoes stuffed in the sides, the rest flung over the top.

He liked the mindless, methodical job. It kept his hands busy. A good distraction, because otherwise he’d be likely to thump something.

Punching a hole in the wall of his penthouse wouldn’t be a good idea at this point, as he didn’t have time to organise plasterers to fix it. He wanted to leave ASAP. The sooner the better. There was nothing left for him here anymore. He’d done what he’d set out to do. Save Qu Publishing. Preserve his father’s legacy. Make some amends for ruining their relationship.

Everything else that had happened? A blip on the radar, soon forgotten when he returned to London.

Until he made the fatal mistake of glancing at the bed and it all came flooding back.

Liza on top of him, pinning his wrists overhead, her hair draping his chest.

Liza beneath him, arching upward, writhing in pleasure.

Liza snuggled in the circle of his arms, her hand splayed on his chest, over his heart, keeping it safe.

Or so he’d thought.

With a groan, he abandoned his packing and sank onto the bed, dropped his head in his hands, and acknowledged the pain.

He’d deliberately closed off after he’d left her house, and had driven to his penthouse in a fog of numbness. It had worked for him before, when he’d made the decision to leave the family business and strike out on his own in London.

He remembered his dad’s disappointment, his surprise, and the only way Wade had dealt with it back then was to erect emotional barriers and get on with the job. It served him well, compartmentalising his life and his emotions, forgoing one for the sake of the other.

But look how that had turned out, with his dad having a heart condition he knew nothing about and Wade distancing himself when he could’ve made the most of every moment.

Maybe his coping mechanism wasn’t so great after all?

Maybe he’d be better off confronting his demons than running from them?

---