“I really like you.” He searched her eyes. “I know it’s not one-sided. I can see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice, feel it—”
“No. I’m sorry.” Her eyes stung with unshed tears. He was just so damn wonderful, but the person he wanted didn’t exist. He wanted a sweet small-town girl. She wasn’t sweet and hadn’t been small town in a very long time.
She gently extricated her hand from his grasp. “I just don’t feel the same way. It’s not you. You’re wonderful. I really mean that.”
“Bull.”
She sputtered at the harshness in his tone. “I’m sorry?”
His eyes were hard and direct. “Don’t feed me a line. Tell me the truth. Why do you want to ignore what we have between us? Two kick-ass dates, one crazy-good night, and then goodbye? If I have to say goodbye, I want the truth.”
She licked her lips nervously. It was hard to fake this when every part of her wanted to reach out, grab hold of him, and never let go. She took a deep breath. “I’m just not ready for a relationship.”
“Bull.”
“What do you want me to say?” she cried, struggling to keep it together. “I’m trying to be nice.”
“Fuck nice.”
She blinked back tears. Josh was reacting just as she’d feared. A spurned and angry ex could damage the Claire Jordan image in devastating ways. She didn’t want to lie anymore, pretending to be someone she wasn’t, but it was clear she couldn’t risk telling him the truth.
She closed her eyes, pulling herself back into character. She met his hard stare and said in an even tone, “I’m sorry. We can’t see each other anymore.”
He clenched his jaw, looking extremely pissed off, but said nothing.
She stood, took one step toward the door, and stopped next to him. “Goodbye,” she said softly.
He didn’t respond.
She bit her quivering lower lip, told herself to move, but she only managed one step when his hand shot out, wrapping around her wrist, holding her there. His hold was warm and firm, sending her pulse thrumming through her, all of her senses heightened, alert and aware, suddenly craving more of his heat, his touch, his—dammit. She couldn’t believe she could get turned on by a wrist hold from the man she was trying to say goodbye to.
She risked a look at him. His expression was unreadable, hard and devoid of emotion.
“Please let go,” she said softly, though some part of her wished he’d never let her go.
“Goodbye, whoever you are,” he said and let her go.
She bolted, her heart racing. He knew she was faking. She burst through the door and walked briskly uptown toward her hotel. After a block, she glanced back. He wasn’t following her. She was both relieved and disappointed. He didn’t know who she was, she was pretty sure, but he suspected something was off. He should suspect. Obviously she couldn’t pretend anymore. She was screwing it up, her performance permanently flawed by her longing for him.
She pulled out her cell and called her driver to pick her up at one of her favorite boutiques. Then she continued on, sticking to the crowd, hoping she’d blend in. So no one would notice the fake woman crying real tears.
~ ~ ~
Jake was pissed off. They’d had a great day together for the second time and now Jenny, or whoever she was, had given him some bullshit excuse. He was starting to suspect she wasn’t who she said she was. Things didn’t add up. Why she had no digital footprint for starters. He hadn’t imagined the very real tenderness in her expression when he gave her the gentleman treatment, or the easy way they were together, or the lust in her eyes whenever they got close. Why couldn’t she just be straight with him? Was she a fugitive? Witness protection program? What?
He couldn’t shake his foul mood the whole way back from the city. He didn’t even consider flying back home. He needed to talk to Josh.
As soon as he reached Josh’s place, he took one step inside, and Josh called from the sofa, “That bad, huh?”
Jake flopped down next to him. “She dumped me.”
Josh turned the volume down on the game. “Sorry.”
Jake grunted.
“Did you tell her who you were?”
“No.”
“Maybe it would make a difference. Tell her what you can offer her. Ya know, the jet, the yacht, the villa in France. Candy to a baby.”
Jake blew out a breath. “I don’t want her to want me for that. I want her to want me for me.”
Josh raised a brow in unspoken twin speak. She doesn’t.
Jake shoved a hand through his hair. “Something’s weird about her. I can’t put my finger on it.”