Page 17 of Her Werewolf Lover

“Ah, yes, well, the divorce was tricky.”

“Shit. I’m sorry, Samantha, that was none of my business,” he said, turning his head, and she missed his curious stare.

“It’s okay. I don’t blame you. Okay, I’m going to confess something,” she began slowly, opening up to him for some reason she couldn’t even explain to herself, “I’m at a crossroads here, Michael, and it is new and frightening. I mean, I was someone’s wife for eight years, but he never really saw past this,” she said, pointing to her face.

“It is a helluva face, Sunshine,” he mumbled and gave her a small smile.

“Yeah, well, it’s getting older. Anyway, I’m rebuilding, rebranding, recreating my life. You know what I mean. All of that good stuff. The thing is, I think I have to start here with this place.”

It wasn’t so much the need to explain that spurred her on, but the freedom of being able to that kept her mouth going when her brain was screaming shut up.

Samantha indicated the room around her, then pointed to herself.

“I’m not sure how much something like this willcost, but I am prepared to do it step by step and I will give you a retainer up front. Maybe you can give me a few ideas, then we can decide how to go forward?”

She watched his expression change and winced on the inside. He narrowed his dramatic, dark eyebrows at her as if he wasn’t expecting that from her.

She could just hear him thinking it. Everyone thought it.

Surely someone who looked like her had taken her ex-husband for a bundle.

But if he’d read up on his aunt’s employer, he’d have known Gary Birkmeyer was a sleaze, but not a fool.

But maybe Eileen’s nephew simply didn’t read the tabloids or whatever passed for that on social media.

Or maybe Michael had seen the papers, and Lord knew, they never made the ex-wife look good. They sure loved the story of her divorce.

Vultures.

The so-called reporters ran with a dozen versions of absolute fiction.

Stuff like ‘former June-girl model dumped and replaced by her classy millionaire husband and in herjealousy, she made off with a truckload of cash and his favorite dog’type stuff.

None of that was true.

First, Gary hated dogs. Second, she would never touch a single penny of Gary’s blood money.

But Michael wouldn’t know that about her.

Hardly anyone would, she thought sadly.

“Okay. Samantha, just so I understand, is money a problem for you? Do you need help?”

Holy cow.

The man was just so intense. Six and a half feet of sexy handyman was bound to get a girl’s heart rate climbing. And how.

Wowza.

Samantha cleared her throat and tucked imaginary strands of hair back behind her ears. Michael was stirring some long forgotten feelings inside of her, and she was not sure how to handle it.

As if sensing her discomfort, he glanced away, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

His eyes were just gorgeous, and by some trick of the light, she swore they flickered with gold at times.

Incredible.

“Look, I’m going to level with you because this is just too important to me right now,” she said, biting the bullet.

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