Yet it wasn’t regret or even distaste for what had happened that she had felt. Not Olivia. Instead, he had felt her pain, her ache as though she had lost something precious in Paris.
She had reminded him of what he’d been before he’d learned to ruthlessly stamp out any feeling. It had taken everything in him to let her be. Feeding his dangerous curiosity about Olivia was not a smart move.
He frowned as she banged another kitchen cabinet door closed. He put the papers he had been signing on the coffee table and turned toward her. For a woman who was willowy and all bones, she was always looking for something to eat.
She stood on her toes, stretching her hands above her head, trying to reach the cabinet overhead. His breath hitched in his throat as her cotton tee tugged upward, baring her toned midriff, silky smooth flesh glowing in the light. His jeans felt uncomfortably tight.
With a muttered curse, he joined her in the kitchen and plucked the coffee filters from the cabinet. “Have you heard from Kim?” he said, more to distract himself from her scent.
Her shoulders stiffened, her hand faltering as she scooped coffee into the coffeemaker. Would she lie? He waited as she turned it on and her shoulders rose and fell.
She turned around and surprised him with a nod. “A text saying that she’s okay.”
He pulled out a couple of mugs and leaned against the counter. She almost collided with him in her hurry to get away, until he steadied her. Her T-shirt defined the curve of her high breasts and slim waist, and her legs went on forever in denim shorts that barely covered her behind. Her wild hair was pulled into a ponytail. She was all bones and angles, and looked like a teenager instead of twenty-five. She was a far cry from the women he found attractive—successful, confident, exuding a sophistication that had always appealed to him.
Olivia was the opposite, not his type at all, yet something inside him reacted to her every move. And anything that didn’t fall into a pattern, that defied rational explanation puzzled his analytical mind.
“Well, it seems like we’re making progress,” he said, grinning as she retreated to the other side. “You didn’t lie to me just now and you didn’t try to run away once in the last,” he checked his watch, “fifteen hours.”
One corner of her mouth tugged up in mockery of a smile. She poured the coffee into two mugs and handed him one. He followed her into the living room, eying her like a hungry wolf did a tasty morsel of meat. She took a sip of her coffee and plunked down into the leather couch. Her gaze swept around her, a smile curving her mouth. “I think Emily did a fabulous job. Too good to be a passing fancy.”
“Unlike your new career?”
Olivia smiled, refusing to explain herself. It was what everyone thought about her, including Kim. While her loyalty and love for her never wavered, Olivia knew her single-minded, successful twin struggled to understand Olivia’s impulsive choices. But all that was going to change soon. Excitement bubbled through her as she thought of her upcoming pitch. Finally, she had a real shot at succeeding, at forging a career. As soon as she worked on her pitch. “Not everyone finds success easily.”
He settled into the couch opposite hers, his long legs stretching out to her side. “At least, you’re a woman of multiple talents. Spoilt heiress, temperamental model, reality TV star and now what, advertising guru?”
The direct barb hit her hard, chipping away the veneer of politeness she tried to hang on to. Nothing he had quoted just now was untrue, yet the methodical listing of her failures shook her from within. But just because she had failed in the past didn’t mean she would fail in the future. Love and men, she had given up, but her career—no.
“Exactly what is it that you find so objectionable about me? Because, from where I see it, I’m here, pretending to be your wife, when I never want to lay eyes on
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