Page 45 of Enemies with Benefits

As if summoned by thought, my phone rang. It took a moment to locate it beneath the mountain of clothes I was sorting through, on account of sudden nerves over which clothes Jasper would prefer to see me in.

The thought that I was even remotely interested in pleasing him made me pause for a shocked moment before answering the phone. ‘Mother, I’m afraid I can’t talk for long—’

‘Why? Because you’ve decided to publicly draw a line in the sand, show me where your true loyalties lie?’

My breath caught at the acid in her voice. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘You were seen, Wren. Coming out of the hotel with the Mortimer boy last week. And don’t bother to convince me it was business.’

My teeth gritted, the urge to demand she stop calling him a boy bubbling up in my throat until I swallowed it down. That insult was minor in the grand scheme of things. As, I was further stunned to realise, was the revelation that I’d been spotted leaving the Mortimer Mayfair. The sharp bite of remorse I expected to feel never arrived. And when I exhaled it was with a certain...pain-edged freedom that made my throat ache when I answered, ‘Okay, then, I won’t.’

It was her turn to gasp. ‘You’re not going to bother denying it?’

‘Why should I, Mother? It’s true. I was in the hotel with Jasper. And it wasn’t business. Is that what you called to condemn me about?’

She went silent for a frozen moment. ‘Of all the men in this town, Wren,’ she asked bitterly. ‘Why him?’

I shut my eyes, a wince catching me hard inside because I’d asked myself the same question at least a half-dozen times since that moment in the maze. And every answer had only deepened my bewilderment. Because not even once had I considered simply...walking away, regardless of the fact that I’d demanded he release me from our business deal. ‘No explanation I give is going to satisfy you, so why put ourselves through it?’ My question emerged solemn and reserved, directly opposite to the churning in my belly. Something was happening with Jasper. Something I seemed powerless to stop.

‘I guess there’s nothing more to discuss, then, is there?’

The finality in her tone unnerved me. Enough to make my answer rushed. ‘Mother, can you trust me for once? Please? I’m trying to salvage this for all of us.’ The worrying thing was, I wasn’t sure if the business was the only thing I was attempting to salvage.

‘You want me to trust you when you’ve openly thrown yourself into the enemy’s bed? Oh, sweet girl, don’t you know this will only have one unfortunate ending for you? Don’t you know that’s what they live for?’

Jasper’s face materialised before my eyes, the ruthless and dogged determination in getting his way. I couldn’t deny that so far things had worked in his favour. Mostly. But I planned on changing that. ‘It...won’t,’ I replied, then...stronger when my voice wobbled, ‘It won’t.’

My mother sighed. ‘Your father deluded himself about getting into bed with vipers once upon a time, too.’

Before I could reply the line went dead.

I hung up, hurt and incensed. And when tears filmed my eyes, I dashed them away with an impatient hand. Wasn’t there a saying that history repeated itself only if we didn’t learn from it? Why was my mother so determined to write me off?

The answer shook through me, terrifying me into blindly throwing random items of clothing into the suitcase. Who the hell cared what Jasper preferred? I would dress for myself and no one else.

Still, my senses jumped into sizzling life when my phone pinged with a message from him.

Be there in ten.

I was waiting by my front door when he pulled up in his Aston Martin. When he started to get out, I waved him away, wheeling my suitcase towards the boot. ‘I’m fine. Just pop the boot, please.’

A frown twitched across his face as he flicked the button. I stymied another flare of unease when I saw his suitcase—a top-of-the-range designer exclusive with his name monogrammed in neat letters.

Get a grip, Wren. You’re now annoyed because the billionaire you’re sleeping with has nice luggage?

‘Whoa, did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed, sweetheart?’ he enquired dryly when I got into the car.

I shut the door with a tiny slam and yanked on my seat belt. ‘What if I did?’

He stared at me for a moment, then nodded. ‘Right, you’re itching to pick a fight with me. Fine. Go ahead. As long as we get to make up properly afterwards.’

That should’ve angered me more. Instead, part of me leapt in excitement while the painful knot in my belly expanded. I shook my head, my thoughts bewildered. ‘Can we just go, please?’

He set the car in motion and stayed silent for the first few miles.

Far from the silence easing my churning emotions, I grew even more unsettled.

After another few minutes, he sighed. ‘Can I take a wild guess at what’s eating you up? You’re raging at fate for matters that aren’t in your control? That had nothing to do with you but in which you’re fully embroiled somehow? And the more you think about it, the more it pisses you off, and the more ridiculous guilt eats you up?’

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