Page 43 of The Rebound (Close Quarters 3)

Smart cookie. But even having this conversation is making me feel dirty, and not in the good way. I have something that showcasesexactlywhy my stepbrother is the worst person to be CEO—because how long before flights to Bora Bora becomes a new car and a new house on the company dime? But I don’t have proof. Without it, my word means nothing.

And in the process of all this, I’ve shown Presley that, in some ways, I’m no different from Mike. I’m capable of using people.

I’m not sure which of those two things disgusts me more.

“Was I only a pawn?” she asks. “Is that the only reason you’ve been acting like you care?”

“No.” I rake a hand through my hair. “I came home with a single purpose in mind and then... I came here that first night hoping to get something out of you. After that, it started feeling more like an excuse to see you.”

Had I really believed she would give me some silver bullet? Or was that simply a convenient thought to mask the fact that I can’t get through a day without thinking about her?

“So youdocare?”

I don’t want to answer that. Because my answer is wrong. It’s risky. It’s stupid and not in the least bit strategic. My honest answer could blow any chance at all that I have of doing what I came here to do.

Because I do care about her. More than makes any fucking sense to me because we’ve known each other for what feels like both five minutes and a lifetime. It’s not logical.

And yet she’s burrowed under my skin.

She sighs. “Okay, fine, don’t answer that. But tell me this at least—did you actually want to sleep with me or was that just part of your plan?”

“You’re asking me that right now?” I shake my head. “After what we just did? Do you think that’s something I can fake?”

She sucks on the inside of her cheek. I’ve dodged giving her the information she really wants—which ishowI feel about her.

I’m too wound up to even contemplate what this means. Am I falling for the woman my stepbrother was supposed to marry? Am I falling when I promised myself I’d never even getcloseto the ledge?

I can’t answer that.

“I didn’t think it was fake.” Her eyes show the fire inside her; they flicker like angry twin flames. “But I’ve been fooled before and you’ve just admitted you had something to gain.”

“I have something to lose, too,” I say, leaning against the back of the couch. My hands are twitchy—frustration and attraction and regret tightening my muscles with nervous energy. “Because I have a million reasons not to go there with you and yet I can’t stop it. The only explanation I can give is that...well, this level of chemistry isn’t normal.”

She bobs her head. “I agree.”

“But us being together is a bad idea.” I let out a frustrated noise. “I don’t have plans to settle down and get married. I don’t have plans to start a family or buy a house in the suburbs or tick any of those boxes. My career is number one.”

“Which career? The thing you enjoy doing or your family’s business?” She doesn’t miss a beat, this woman.

“Those things will be one and the same now.” That’s my line; I’ve practiced it over and over.

“You think I believe that you’ve been away the last ten years working on something totally different just for kicks, when what you really wanted the whole time was to be working in the family business?” She shakes her head. “I call bullshit.”

“Call it whatever you want.” I shrug, trying to hide the fact that I am totally unnerved by her. By how much she sees.

By how much I actually care about what she has to say.

“Why does it matter so much to you if your dad puts Mike in the top spot? It sounds like you have a great life in Sydney. You’re mentoring young people, working with your friends. Why would you want to leave all that?”

“Because I know for a fact that Mike has no interest in running Foster & Co. He told me as much. He thinks their business model is old-fashioned, so he’s going to siphon off as much intellectual property as he can and then he’s going to sell what’s left to an overseas investor who wants a foothold in the Australian market.” I’m almost vibrating with anger. “He’s going to dismantle everything my grandfather built.”

Presley pressed her lips into a flat line. “What does your dad think?”

“Well, Mike’s been working with Dad, diligently chipping away at my relationship with him over the last ten years. The only spanner in the works was that Dad knows Mike has as much maturity as a six-month-old cocker spaniel.”

Presley snorts. “Hence the wedding, which is apparently shorthand for maturity.”

“Exactly.”

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