Page 18 of Her Werewolf Lover

Samantha licked her lips and straightened her spine. She was equal parts embarrassed and hopeful. It was humiliating telling a man who looked like him she was basically broke.

But what did that matter? She wasn’t dating him or even interested.

Yeah. Right. Tell yourself that.

Oh, shush up.

This was not the time for one of her inner arguments. Michael loomed closer, and she felt heat radiating from his body. She’d thought she’d imagined an awareness between them, or at the very least, she thought it must be one-sided.

But there he was, inviting her to spill her most humiliating secrets with nothing more than patience.

Get a grip. He’s just looking for a job.

“Okay,” she said, silencing her mind. “My divorce was widely publicized, but nothing about what they printed was anywhere close to the truth. Let’s just say things were a bit unorthodox with Gary. You see, he kept everything.”

“What do you mean, everything?”

“He left with his new wife and all our assets, save for this,” she said and gestured around her at the horror movie boudoir esque manse.

Michael narrowed his eyes.

“You got this house in the divorce?”

“Yep. This house. My car that I paid for before we married. Some of my clothes and jewelry. Nothing else. No other properties or titles on cars, boats or whatever. And no alimony. Just this.”

“How? Birkmeyer has millions. Look, if you were screwed over, I can call you a good lawyer?—”

“No! No, it was my idea. I didn’t want his money,” she said, shaking her head fervently.

“Okay, now you lost me.”

“I’m sure I’ll find a minute later to be insulted by that, but for now,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him, “I’ll forgive you.”

“I apologize. I am trying to understand, that’s all. I meant no offense,” he said, and seemed contrite.

“It’s okay. You don’t know me, but please, try to understand this house represents my freedom and my life as it could be, as it will be with a little bit of work.”

“You know, this is a lot of responsibility to give your handyman,” Michael said, eyes glittering even as his grin reappeared.

“Cheeky, but I get it. You figured I was just another gold-digging ex-trophy wife. But even if I was, could you see me living in this mockery of ahome? It’s a B-movie Vampire brothel come to life. I keep expecting Vincent Price to pop out from behind a velvet curtain or Bela Lugosi to attack me any minute,” she joked, but swore he was growling again.

“You aren’t wrong, Sunshine. And I apologize if I made you feel bad or anything. And you’re right, I don’t know you, but I want to. I’ll do better,” he whispered the last bit.

“It’s okay, I have heard worse. Truth is, if it was the only option, I’d light the whole damn house up, but then where would I be?”

That her life was easily interchangeable with the house in that sentence scared the hell out of her, but in a good way. She’d already done that. Lit a match to her life by standing up to Gary. Refusing to get plastic surgery and efficiently ending their lives together.

Yay her.

No, seriously, yay fucking her!

Her eyes flashed up at the taller man. She’d gotten so used to towering over Gary, she wasn’t prepared for how good it felt to look up to someone.

Lord, he was handsome.

No, no, no.

She needed to be professional about this and ignore the sexual tension in the air.

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