Page 72 of Unbuttoning Her Brooding Boss

And no doubt he’d glanced through her bedroom doorway on his way in and seen that one pretty corner and the rest a bare mess of not very much.

‘Steffi Leigh’ was nothing.Hadnothing.

‘Stephanie,’ he said. ‘Can I—?’

‘No,’ she snapped, suddenly angrier and more humiliated than she’d ever been in her life. He looked so damn incongruous there, in his perfect freaking suit. Made of money, wasn’t he? Hell, one of his shoes alone had probably cost more than their lounge suite. ‘Do you mind giving us some privacy?’

His expression froze. His eyes were so dark they were like cold coal. Only they burned right through to her bones.

‘As you can see, everything is fine.’ She gritted the words out. ‘I’m sorry you were dragged up here.’

She was sorry he’d seen it all. Every last bit of her not so Steffi Leigh life.

She stalked back down the hallway, assuming he’d follow her. And he did.

‘Stephanie—’

‘No,’ she said again, opening her front door. She recognised that tone of his—implacable, determined. But she wasn’t going to give in to it this time. She wasn’t going to take anything more from him. ‘If I don’t need help from my best friend, I certainly don’t need help fromyou.’

He looked angry. ‘So afraid of letting someone help, aren’t you? Which is kind of ironic when apparently you’re sacrificing your life to look after your brother. But maybe that’s just an excuse to avoid really living. Maybe you use him as your excuse to hide away inside, where you can maintain your Steffi Leigh online fantasy of fun and perfection. Because you’re too afraid to let someone in.’

She very nearly slapped him. Because shehadlet him in.

‘Right.’ She nodded. ‘Whereasyouspend your life running away from your problems.Escaping.’

Scathingly she used his favourite word. ‘Using work as your excuse not to give anyone—family, friend, lover—more than two days of your precious time.’

He jerked as if shehadslapped him.

‘Right,’ he nodded, mimicking her smart tone. ‘I’ll get going, then, and fulfil your low expectations of me.’

But as he walked away her heart lurched. She remembered just what he’d been through. ‘What about—?’

‘The blog?’ he interrupted, turning his head, his sharp eyes stabbing. ‘It’s all about personality,’ he said curtly. ‘Things on the internet always are. Personality can’t be replicated.Youare your blog. And, as you once said, you’re not on the table. You cannot be bought.’

‘That’s right,’ she said softly. ‘I can’t.’

He was right about everything.

She had been afraid to let him in. And she couldn’t let herself take from him now. She couldn’t let herself rely on him. Because then she’d give himeverything.Anddoanything he asked of her. And she refused to be that weak.

She hadn’t been going to ask about the blog just then. She’d been going to ask about his father. But why would he want to talk to her about that now? He just wanted to escape again. And fair enough.

‘Okay, then,’ she said icily as he continued to glare at her. But there was still that last shred of dignity, of politeness, within her. She held the door and as he finally walked through it murmured, ‘Thank—’

‘Bye.’ He cut her off and walked away.

She slammed the door. Bolted it. Then closed her eyes to hold back the tears.

It was five minutes before she was under enough control to walk back to her brother in the lounge. He’d moved from sprawling to actually sitting, but she couldn’t bring herself to sit down next to him.

‘What were youthinking?’ she asked him. ‘Why didn’t you just answer the damn phone?’

He looked mutinous.

‘You wanted me to feel guilty? You wanted me to pay?’ Her eyes filled. ‘For how long do I have to pay, Dan?’ Because right now it felt as if she was going to have to pay for ever. ‘It wasn’t my fault.’

As guilty as she felt, she knew that it hadn’t been.

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