Page 40 of Secret Admirer
She smiled at him like she was a summer breeze and reached for his hand. “I told him I was in love and he wants to meet you.”
Love? That was impossible without honesty. His entire life had taught him that and steel was just as hard as he was right now. He couldn’t move. His blood was cold as metal. Bart didn't dare pry her hand away. “You love me?”
With a softness that comforted like a freshly made bed, she nodded. “Very much, Bart. I love everything about you.”
If he pulled his wrist out of her grasp, would he snap her fingers? He couldn't risk hurting her. Instead, he held still, his entire body tense. “But we don’t know much about each other.”
“I know enough.” She tilted her head and pouted her full lips. “I was right when I said you were Prince Charming.”
“That’s impossible.” Right now he wanted to rip her clothes off and show her physically how he felt. He needed the release but it was too dangerous. He removed her hand from his and sat back, afraid to touch her.
He picked up his wine and wished his skin didn’t burn with desire.
She sighed. “You're kind and decent and classy and the type of guy I’ve always wanted to meet.”
Always.He stood and hated that word. It echoed in his mind and translated to gold digger. He gripped his glass tight, afraid the stem might break. “Because I have money?”
She sat straighter and didn’t touch him anywhere as she raised her eyebrows. “Excuse me?”
She'd evaded this question over and over. “What is it that you do, Rebecca?”
She rose quickly, her chair scooting backward in her haste. “I told you. I’m starting school next week.”
He jumped up and followed her so she wouldn't disappear--they needed to finish this conversation for once. “And before you start school?”
She wiped a tear from her eye and he stepped away from her to give her space as she asked, “What’s going on? Why are you so upset right now?”
Fair. It was like he'd spied on her and he shouldn’t have. He straightened his shoulders, explaining so they were on the same page, “I had my driver follow you.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Why?”
Without thinking he said, “I wanted to surprise you and meet your father.”
She blinked and her face blushed.
Bart realized he'd said too much and the inner cold returned.
She pressed her hand to her heart and lowered her lashes. “You saw the garage.”
"I did and you were working on an engine like a pro." His words hurt like he'd ripped the scab off a still-bleeding wound. "I asked you what you did and you never answered that question.”
“I should have.”
Yes, she should have. The scent of her perfume was like a drug calling to him to make things better. If he touched her, he’d forget when he didn’t need to ever forget her deliberate avoidance of the truth. “I wondered why you didn’t tell me. Why were you hiding?”
She glanced up and he stared into her deep blue hues. “I wanted to tell you.”
She'd chosen to lie by omission. “But?”
Rebecca crossed her arms with a familiar lift of her chin. “But you’re a bit of a snob. You hated my house. You hated my clothes.”
“They were stained.” Her assessment was a direct hit to the armor around his heart.
She lowered her hands to her sides. “So you dressed me up and had me move in with you.”
None of that had been forced. “You said you wanted to be my girlfriend.”
She took his hand and sighed. His heart beat wildly and he didn’t dare move. Rebecca said, “I want us to be real with each other. I love you and want you to love me too.”
