Page 49 of Love so Hot

I keep the conversation flowing, discussing profit margins and expansion plans with a forced cheerfulness that's starting to make my face hurt. All the while, my irritation simmers just below the surface. This whole fake fiancée thing was supposed to make my life easier, not torpedo my biggest deal yet.

As we finally—finally!—say our goodbyes, I'm practically vibrating with pent-up frustration. The drive back to the houseis silent, but not the comfortable kind. This is the kind of silence that has teeth.

The moment we're through the front door, Willow whirls on me, her green hair practically crackling with electricity. "How dare you!" she explodes, her usual calm demeanor shattered. "You humiliated me in front of everyone!"

I scoff, tossing my keys onto the side table with more force than necessary. "Humiliated you? I saved that meeting from becoming an impromptu Greenpeace rally!"

"Those people needed to hear the truth about what this pipeline will do!" Willow's voice rises, her hands gesticulating wildly. "You can't just ignore the environmental impact?—"

"And you can't just derail a multi-million dollar deal because you're feeling preachy!" I shoot back, loosening my tie in frustration. “This isn't some hippie drum circle, Willow. There are real stakes here!"

She steps closer, her green eyes flashing. "Oh, I'm well aware of the stakes. Unlike you, I actually care about more than just lining my pockets!"

I run a hand through my hair, exasperated. "You think I don't care? I'm trying to build something here, something that could benefit a lot of people. But I can't do that if you're determined to sabotage every meeting!"

The tension between us is so thick you could cut it with a knife. Or maybe a chainsaw. Yeah, definitely a chainsaw.

As I stare at Willow's flushed face, her chest heaving with indignation, a traitorous thought flits through my mind: she looks kind of beautiful when she's angry. I push that thought away immediately. This is not the time for... whatever that was.

Instead, I'm left wondering how the hell we're going to move past this. And more importantly, how I'm going to salvage this deal with my fake fiancée on a one-woman crusade to save the world.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Willow

He's staringat me and I hate the fact that it makes me feel something. I can't quite put a finger on what, but I definitelyfeelwhen I'm around him.

"I'm not trying to sabotage you," I say. "But, I don't understand why you can't see that what you want to build is going to destroy so much more."

Lawrence steps closer, hazel eyes now flickering with a fire that could burn down the whole damn town. "You were supposed to be playing a role, remember? Supportive fiancée, not rabble-rouser."

"Sorry for having principles," I toss back, hands on hips, refusing to step down from his towering presence.

"Principles don't pay the bills, darling." His use of 'darling' drips with so much sarcasm it stings.

"Neither does destroying the planet," I retort, but before I can launch into another reason why the pipeline is bad news, he cuts me off.

"Enough!" The word explodes between us, and I'm pretty sure the birds nesting outside take flight. "This isn't a debate. It's about survival—mine, yours, the company's."

"Right, because it's always about you, Lawrence Sinclair. Never mind the rest of us who have to live with the mess you leave behind."

"Is that what you think this is? Me, just trampling over everything?"

"Isn't it?" I challenge, unwilling to back down even as something shifts in his gaze, something vulnerable that he quickly masks with another layer of anger.

"Get this straight—I do what I have to. And right now, that means keeping you in line."

"Or what? You'll cut me loose?" My heart pounds, daring him.

"Believe me, it's tempting." He takes a step back, and for a second, I think he might actually walk away. But instead, he runs a hand through his hair, frustration rolling off him in waves. "We're in this together, whether we like it or not. So shape up, or yes, I will find someone who can."

"You can't just silence me because my opinions are inconvenient to your agenda," I snap. I kick off my heels and plant my feet firmly on the stupid marble floor. Another thing stolen from the Earth.

"Willow, it's not about silencing you—it's about strategy. And last time I checked, creating a scene at a dinner party isn't strategic," he retorts, his tone patronizing.

"Strategic? You mean manipulative. I won't stand by while you charm your way into building that pipeline. It'll destroy Greenwood Hollow!" My voice rises with each word, echoing off the walls.

"God, you don't get it, do you?" He advances toward me, each step punctuated by the clink of his polished shoes on the floor. "This is bigger than just one town. It's about progress, jobs?—"

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