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The Once and Future Prince / Pretend Mistress, Bona Fide Boss: The Once and Future Prince. Yvonne Lindsay
Читать онлайн.Название The Once and Future Prince / Pretend Mistress, Bona Fide Boss: The Once and Future Prince
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781408915813
Автор произведения Yvonne Lindsay
Жанр Современные любовные романы
Издательство HarperCollins
She looked at him as if he’d once strangled her cat and didn’t remember it. She finally shook her head, let out a rough chuckle. “You didn’t even realize I dyed my hair.”
“And that made me…insensitive? Negligent? The hair on your head looked so natural with your tan. Thanks to your grooming habits, there was none anywhere else to give me a clue. What else did I allegedly do to you?”
She shook her head again. “You exist in a universe starring you, don’t you? Other people are the bit players who exist just so you can bounce your lines off them.”
“Why are you saying that when you know it wasn’t true…then?”
“Listen, I’m not criticizing you or laying blame…”
“No? You have a strange way of not doing that. The way you tell it, I was an egocentric, exploitative bastard. Come to think of it, I do remember a comment you hurled at me on your way out of my life. About my so-called self-absorption. Is that how you rationalize the way you ended things between us?”
“‘Things’ would have ended between us sooner rather than later, and you know it. I did us both a favor—”
“Why don’t you speak for yourself?”
“Fine, I did myself a favor by not sticking around to experience the deterioration of ‘things’ before their inevitably nasty end.”
He stared into the twin storms of her eyes.
Was this her admission that there’d never been more than self-interest behind her actions? Or was it self-preservation? Her words could be interpreted that way. Had his rage at the time made her fear he’d take his bitterness out on her?
What was he thinking? Why was he debating this yet again? He’d admitted there was no way to find out the truth for sure. And what did it even matter? That was then. This was now.
He was taking now. And when the end came this time, he wouldn’t spend eight more years agonizing over the reasons why. The whys would be of his own orchestration. And his own timing.
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