Page 78 of The Biting Bargain

I turn. Aidan stares at me, flummoxed. Like I've revealed to a toddler that Santa doesn't exist.

"Make sure she gets back to her apartment," I say curtly. "And she will receive the entire sum. No deductions."

"Of course, sir, but are you really sure you w—„

"That will be all, Aidan," I cut him off, more gruffly than necessary.

My assistant blinks twice, like he’s not entirely sure how to proceed. But then he composes himself, a somber expression on his face.

"As you wish, sir."

He silently departs, pulling the door to my study shut.

I turn, leaning my forehead against the cool wood of the bookshelf and staring at the leathery covers of "In Love and War." Then I close my eyes in defeat. Time to wrap up the mess I dragged her into. And if it hurts any of us it will be my own damn fault.

Time to be a bastard again.

ChapterThirty-Six

Polly

I twirlthe black debit card in my fingers."Delacroix Credit Institute, Switzerland", it reads, shining like a projectile. Stamped in bold gold letters there is also the account holder's name:"Pollyanna Isolde Bukowski."

"I never told you my middle name," I mutter, lowering the card.

"I have my sources."

Vincent sits across from me at his desk, casually leaning into his chair. Of course he’s dressed to the nines, his suit fitting as if tailored to his body.

The chuckle I can’t hold back feels bitter in my throat. I don’t need to read his somber expression to understand that all his walls are back up.

When I opened my eyes this morning, and the rumpled bed next to me was empty, I had a hunch. That hunch became certainty when Aidan brought me breakfast, along with the happy news that our plan had worked. Vincent's curse is lifted. And he got into his club, too.

Hooray.

Now that Vincent has summoned me to his office, I can literally feel it.

Just like the debit card, the whole thing has "OVER" written in bold golden letters all over it. Ever since we struck our deal, I've known this moment would come. However, last night it didn't feel like a deal anymore.

It hasn't for a while. My silly heart took one leap too many and forgot that this is nothing more than a business transaction.

An invisible hand is squeezing my heart in my chest.

"You'll find the agreed-upon sum in the account," Vincent says, his voice distant and businesslike. "I know, you wanted me to pay in cash, but this is so much more convenient."

"Great," I bring out, hoping it sounds convincing enough.

Vincent stands, coming over to me and looking down with that damned crooked smile. He strokes my cheek with his thumb and I don't know if it's typical vampire, or typical poker player to see right through my bluff.

"You’ll be alright," he says with a gentleness that’s driving little pinpricks into my heart. I suddenly feel like crying and try very hard not to.

I wish he'd just go back to being the selfish asshole I struck the deal with. I wish he wouldn't let me off the hook so kindly. I wish he would just laugh in my face, tell me I’m a silly pigeon or some other overly attached animal that should know better. What was I thinking? That he was falling in love with me? That this — whatever this was — would last?

That I would be what? His girlfriend?

Disaster Polly? Come on!

"No idea what you’re talking about," I say, staring at his chest, the perfect buttons on his perfectly pressed shirt, trying not to think about the treacherous warmth I found underneath all those nights.

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