Page 76 of Hard Limits

She’d left it propped against a vase in the hall, a hastily penned paragraph written on the back of a been-and-gone benefit invite that he hadn’t gotten around to recycling yet.

Brax,

I never wanted to have to write this letter. Firstly, I want you to know that I love you. Every piece of you, exactly as you are. Secondly, there are some things I never told you about me. I wish we could be together, but with the hand life dealt me, it’s an impossible dream. Just know that in my heart, I’ll always be yours.

Meera

What the hell?

She was dumping him? And this was how she chose to do it? After the best night of his life, she wrote him a fucking note? She loved him, but she couldn’t be with him? What was this bullshit?

Her clothes were gone, and her shoes were gone. She’d run out of his apartment and headed…where? Home? What hadn’t she told him? Why did that stop them from being together? Did she have a secret boyfriend squirrelled away? No. No, she might have been able to fake the sweet inexperience, but she couldn’t fake a hymen. Could she? There were medical procedures these days, and— No. She hadn’t been faking.

Something a little like panic made Brax’s chest tighten. He’d just freed himself from Carissa, and now his life had fallen apart again. Carissa. Suddenly, he knew. He knew Meera’s secret. The timing gave it away. She had been on Carissa’s payroll, a beguiling sorceress sent to tempt him. But instead of completing the mission, she’d saved him from his raging lust. That night in the limo, she’d had him. If she’d come back to his apartment, he’d have slept with her, and she could have collected whatever bonus Carissa had promised.

But she didn’t.

She’d betrayed her real boss instead of him.

Was that why she’d run? Because Carissa had threatened to reveal all in revenge? Fuck, it was his fault—he’d been the one to tell Carissa the truth, that Meera had refused to sleep with him.

It hurt, knowing that Meera had come into his life under false pretences, but their feelings were real; he was certain of that. He loved her, and in the note, she said she loved him. They could still make this work. If she’d just talk to him instead of running, they could make it work.

He needed to find her.

In his dressing room, he threw on the first clothes to hand—jeans, a T-shirt, tennis shoes without socks. Where had he left the car key? Think, dammit, think. Traffic was awful, as usual, but she’d have gotten stuck in it too. Brax knew where her apartment was. He’d even driven past it a couple of times, trying to work up the courage to tell her how he felt. He’d also strongly considered renting her a better place and telling her it was a perk of the job, because her neighbourhood was rough, but that would have meant tossing gasoline on the divorce bonfire.

On the way, he tried calling her again, but she still didn’t pick up. And she complained that his communication skills were poor? Sheesh. Finally, he made it to her street, but there was nowhere to park. A cab had taken the last spot outside her building. Would it leave soon? The driver was still inside.

Then he saw her.

Meera was hefting a suitcase down the front steps, her hair blowing in the wind as she headed for the cab. No way. She wasn’t getting into it. Brax wasn’t going to chase her all over LA. He abandoned the Porsche in the street, ignoring the cacophony of horns and the angry shouts of other drivers as he ran toward her.

“Meera, stop!”

She froze, and when he got closer, he saw the dirty tracks on her cheeks. She’d been crying.

“Just wait.”

“I…I can’t.”

“We need to talk about this.”

She shook her head, and another tear fell. “I have to get to the airport.”

The airport? Where was she flying to? “You’re just leaving? You said you loved me—doesn’t that count for anything?”

“I wish it could, but…but it’s complicated.”

“I know you’re working for Carissa.”

Instead of that being the “gotcha” Brax had hoped for, Meera merely looked puzzled.

“Carissa? What?”

“She sent you to seduce me, but it’s okay. I forgive you.”

“No… No, she didn’t.”

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