do.â
Liamâs gorgeous blue eyes narrowed. âWhat is it?â
âMy new paints. I left them in the bottom drawer of the credenza in the dining room.â
âYou paint in the dining room?â
She shook her head. âI stuck them there after I bought them the other day. Itâs the least-used room in the place, so itâs the last place Dad would think to look for them.
If
heâd even think to look for them. After last night, Iâm sure heâll be more than happy not to have them around as a reminder. So if you could get them for me, Iâd really appreciate it. It will allow me to start earning some money to pay you for my stay.â
Liam rubbed his chin. âWeâll worry about you paying me back later, but, yeah, Iâll get the paints. Anything else? Jewelry, gowns, shoes?â
She shook her head. âNo. Nothing. If I know my father, and unfortunately I do all too well, heâll have Deborah inventorying everything against the charge slips. I donât want anything of his.â
âThen you might want to leave those rocks on your ears here.â
She fingered the diamond studs. âIâm keeping these. I earned them.â
âDoing what? Entertaining visiting dignitaries? Hosting heads of state?â
She glanced away and blinked back more tears that sprang up at his sarcasm. Silly really, since he was right, but oh how she wanted to be valued for what she could do instead of what she looked like. And the ironic thing was, she
had
earned these. Chit-chatting with people she had no desire to speak with, attending events that left her bored to tears, and being thought of as nothing more than a pretty face with the occasional pass-by ass-patting deserved recompense.
âLook, I get what you think of me. I know what people think of my life. That itâs all wine and roses and I should be happy as a clam living in the gilded tower with my clothes and jewelry and nice things. I get that. The thing is, thatâs who he wanted me to be. I bought into it for a while, but Iâm not that person anymore. Thereâs more to me than that.â
She wanted to wipe that skeptical look off Liamâs face, but words alone would never do it. She had to show him. She had to show them all. And she would, dammit. This was her chance. Her shot at making over her life as sheâd planned to do during the lunch yesterdayâhad it only been yesterday?âwith Dad.
âIf you say so.â Liam picked up her bag. âOkay, then. Letâs get going. My truckâs over here.â
She watched him swagger ahead of her. Oh, it wasnât an intentional swagger; those, she could spot a mile away. His was all natural grace and athleticism, with one hell of a nice buttâ
Okay, not thoughts she ought to be having at the moment. She was going to stay with the guy just until she got on her feet, not move in with him forever. No sense starting something like that and risk having him think
that
was how she was going to pay him backâ
Uh oh. That wasnât what he thought, was it? Heâd talked about paybacks . . . He didnât think she was going to . . . That she would . . .
Titania wriggled in the crook of her arm and started to whine. âUm, Liam? Could you hold up, please? Titania needs a potty break.â
Liam looked back over his shoulder with his eyebrow arched. âDonât tell me you got her a throne-shaped one of those as well.â
âNot funny.â She juggled her bag, her purse, the dog, and the leash to get the last two attached to each other. Normally, Titania wouldnât run away, but with the way Cassidyâs luck had gone the past twenty-four hours, she wasnât risking it.
The dog kept wiggling. âHold still, Titania. The bushes are over there.â She hurried to the edge of the garage where the landscaping was above the chest-high wall, and plunked the cutie-pie
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