Page 50 of Enemies, Lovers & A Valentine's Baby

Here I thought I was hiding it pretty well. Who the hell does he think he is anyway?

“You think you’re so good at reading people, don’t you?” I ask.

“I don’t think. I know,” he says smugly.

“Well, you’re wrong.”

“Am I?” He smirks.

Hell would have to literally freeze over before I would admit anything to him.

“It’s okay, you can tell me,” he continues. “I mean, if we’re going to be stuck working on this event together for the next two months, we need to be able to communicate honestly,” he says.

My back straightens, stiff as a board. “Look, let’s get one thing straight. We’re not friends, we’re not partners, we’re not even colleagues. As I’m sure you already know, I do not like you. You are nothing but a conceited, egotistical, arrogant asshole who doesn’t care who he has to hurt or how many people he has to put down to make himself feel like he’s a big, strong man. News flash, if you have to do that, then it’s probably because you’re actually a very small man,” I say, keeping my voice steady, confidence rising, determined to meet his gaze.

My confidence drops when he grins knowingly, a mischievous glint lightening his eyes.

“Oh, trust me” he drawls lazily, eyes slowly running up and down my body. “I’m anything but small.”

My lips curl at the implication of his words.

“You are disgusting,” I snarl.

“And you’re an uptight princess who acts like the rest of the world is beneath her,” he smiles with mock sweetness.

“Not the rest of the world. Just you.”

“Mmmm. I like the sound of that. You’d like that too, wouldn’t you? Me, beneath you?” he says, chuckling when my face no doubt becomes as red as a cherry tomato.

My mouth opens and closes, yet no sound leaves my lips.

“Look, you don’t like me. I get it. I’m not exactly thrilled to be stuck with you either, princess. Yet here we are because we both love Sue, and I owe her a favor. So, let’s just figure out this event and get it over with. Outside of that, we don’t need to have any interaction. I promise not to try to get under your skin, unlessyou want me to,” he says silkily, his gaze sliding up my body till it lands on mine. Playful. Knowing.

For a moment, I’m mesmerized by his stunning eyes that vaguely remind me of the sky on a stormy night. The kind that poets write about. Absolutely breathtaking. I shake my head softly as if to free myself from the spell he seems to be capable of casting over me.

“So, what do you think?” he asks when I don’t respond.

“I think this was a bad idea. I don’t work well with strangers, especially when they’re condescending assholes like you,” I grimace, staring him down.

“Let’s change that, shall we?” he grins, leaning back in his chair now.

“Excuse me?” I mutter.

“Not the asshole part. That one’s beyond my control,” he laughs.

“But we don’t have to be strangers. Ask me anything, and I’ll tell you.”

His eyes still bear a hint of playfulness as he watches me, but there’s also a sincerity in them. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was telling the truth.

If I asked him why he said the things he did to me that day eight years ago, would he tell me?

Did he really mean them? Did he really believe I was a failure?

This is stupid. I do not need his validation.

“I have absolutely no desire to know anything about you, Mr. Matthews,” I force out through gritted teeth.

“Another lie.”

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