Page 171 of False God

“Youdon’t. I’m leaving tomorrow, remember?”

“I remember. And I don’t see what your departure date has to do with anything.”

“Never seeing each other again seems relevant.”

His anger fades, amusement appearing instead. “I have no intention of never seeing you again, Lili.”

I take another sip of champagne to avoid responding. I knew we’d do this before I left. I wasn’t planning on doing ithere.

“You’re upset,” he states.

“No,” I lie, then take another sip.

He grabs the glass out of my hand and sets it on the marble counter so hard that I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter. “Don’t lie to me, Lili. Your honesty is one of my favorite things about you.”

“One of your favorite things, huh? What else is on the list?”

A shameless fish for compliments. Because it’s a nice distraction and because I genuinely want to know.

I’m expecting a crass answer. My mouth or my tits or my ass. Because our relationship has often been centered around sex or attraction, and it’s easiest to keep it there.

Charlie doesn’t reply right away. He crosses his arms and leans against the wall I was just admiring. But I’m no longer paying any attention to the wallpaper. It’s all on him.

“Well, there’s your eyes. My favorite color—Lili blue.”

I try to swallow, but it’s hard.

“There’s also your tenacity. Your stubbornness. Your confidence. Your kindness. Your loyalty.”

He lists each trait as if I invented it. Like it’s mine alone and some incredible accomplishment.

And it makes me want to cry. In a good way … and in a devastated way.

I suck my bottom lip into my mouth. “I don’t belong here, Charlie.”

“Bullshit.” His response is swift. Unequivocal.

“They all want you to marry Beatrice.”

“If bythey all, you mean my grandmother, then you’re correct. But I have no intention of letting my grandmother choose my wife. Or any plans to get married soon.”

“We’re … complicated.”

“I’m not scared of complicated, Lili.”

“I don’t know where I’ll end up working next.”

“Pick the project you want, and we’ll figure it out.”

He’s making it sound so simple. And then he’s shoving away from the wall, coming closer, and I’m no longer feeling like an outsider.

That attention that everyone outside has been chasing after? It’s wholly mine, the intensity the brightest, warmest spotlight I’ve ever been under.

“Turn around.”

It’s a command, not a request. I comply, mostly out of curiosity. He was quiet during the drive here, and since we arrived, he’s been the proper, dignified duke I met at Atlantic Crest Country Club. Fully in control.

But now, as I face the mirror and stare at him, he’smyCharlie. The man who challenges me at every opportunity yet also takes care of me like it’s his job.

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