worrying about everything and let someone else worry for you. You deserve flowers every day, candlelight dinners and a man who wants you very much. You deserve everything your sister has, and more.”
Her eyes glistened. Her mouth dropped open, shut again, and he knew he’d hit the mark. Another spear of guilt shot through him. He didn’t want to like her, didn’t want to feel pleased that he’d moved her. He did what was necessary to avenge his family; he had no room for remorse.
“What makes you think I don’t do anything for myself? A few hours acquaintance hardly qualifies you as an expert on me.”
She was defensive, and he didn’t blame her. He’d gone deep and it had to sting.
“You are an open book, Paige Barnes. I am simply reading what is written for all to see.”
Her dark eyes were wounded, as if he’d exposed the soft underbelly of her vulnerability with just a few words.
“I—I—” Whatever she was about to say was lost as her jaw snapped shut and she whirled away from him. Opening the briefcase, she shoved all the papers inside, no longer interested in order or neatness.
Alexei cursed inwardly as she jammed the lid shut and locked it. He’d gone too far, spooked her.
“I have to go,” she said without looking at him again. “Chad’s waiting for me.”
Before he could stop her, she bolted from the room. For the second time today, Paige Barnes had run away from him.
Paige threw down her pen and pushed back from the desk in her room. How could she work when all she could think of was Alexei Voronov telling her she deserved happiness and love?
Of course he hadn’t meant he was the man who was going to give her those things, but she’d felt as if she must look so pitifully grateful, so hopeful, that she’d reacted defensively. And when he’d called her an open book, it too eerily echoed her own thoughts. She’d suddenly felt the urgent need to escape before she embarrassed herself any further.
She was a strong woman. She’d been strong all her life, and she’d taken care of herself and her sister since their mother had died. She’d sacrificed and scraped, and she was independent and moderately successful. So why did she dissolve into a puddle of mush around a man she barely knew? Why did he make her feel so vulnerable?
A glance at her watch told her it was nearly four in the afternoon. It felt earlier since the sun usually set so late here in the spring and summer—though you wouldn’t know it was spring with the snow outside. But her stomach growled and she realized she hadn’t eaten since grabbing a pastry and coffee this morning before going to the meeting. She thought about ordering room service, but decided that going to the hotel restaurant was a better idea.
She’d locked herself inside since she’d returned a few hours ago, and it was time to get out, among people. Perhaps then she would stop thinking so much about one Russian prince.
Chad and Emma were off somewhere, and would be spending their free time together for the rest of the time they were here. Now that Paige knew about the relationship, there was no need to keep up the pretense. Chad had apologized to her on the ride to the meeting this morning. He’d wanted to tell her, he’d said, but he hadn’t been sure she would approve.
She’d admitted that she wouldn’t have, and—without a care for possible job ramifications—had told him that if he hurt her sister, she’d gut him. He hadn’t fired her, as she’d half expected, but had instead assured her that he loved Emma and would never hurt her.
While they were at the meeting, Emma had moved her suitcases to Chad’s room.
Which left Paige alone and feeling kind of blue. Though Emma was in college, she’d continued to live at home. Paige was accustomed to having someone there. Of course she’d taken business trips before, and of course she’d stayed alone. But this trip seemed so different, and Emma’s absence so final, that it bothered her
Her eyes glistened. Her mouth dropped open, shut again, and he knew he’d hit the mark. Another spear of guilt shot through him. He didn’t want to like her, didn’t want to feel pleased that he’d moved her. He did what was necessary to avenge his family; he had no room for remorse.
“What makes you think I don’t do anything for myself? A few hours acquaintance hardly qualifies you as an expert on me.”
She was defensive, and he didn’t blame her. He’d gone deep and it had to sting.
“You are an open book, Paige Barnes. I am simply reading what is written for all to see.”
Her dark eyes were wounded, as if he’d exposed the soft underbelly of her vulnerability with just a few words.
“I—I—” Whatever she was about to say was lost as her jaw snapped shut and she whirled away from him. Opening the briefcase, she shoved all the papers inside, no longer interested in order or neatness.
Alexei cursed inwardly as she jammed the lid shut and locked it. He’d gone too far, spooked her.
“I have to go,” she said without looking at him again. “Chad’s waiting for me.”
Before he could stop her, she bolted from the room. For the second time today, Paige Barnes had run away from him.
Paige threw down her pen and pushed back from the desk in her room. How could she work when all she could think of was Alexei Voronov telling her she deserved happiness and love?
Of course he hadn’t meant he was the man who was going to give her those things, but she’d felt as if she must look so pitifully grateful, so hopeful, that she’d reacted defensively. And when he’d called her an open book, it too eerily echoed her own thoughts. She’d suddenly felt the urgent need to escape before she embarrassed herself any further.
She was a strong woman. She’d been strong all her life, and she’d taken care of herself and her sister since their mother had died. She’d sacrificed and scraped, and she was independent and moderately successful. So why did she dissolve into a puddle of mush around a man she barely knew? Why did he make her feel so vulnerable?
A glance at her watch told her it was nearly four in the afternoon. It felt earlier since the sun usually set so late here in the spring and summer—though you wouldn’t know it was spring with the snow outside. But her stomach growled and she realized she hadn’t eaten since grabbing a pastry and coffee this morning before going to the meeting. She thought about ordering room service, but decided that going to the hotel restaurant was a better idea.
She’d locked herself inside since she’d returned a few hours ago, and it was time to get out, among people. Perhaps then she would stop thinking so much about one Russian prince.
Chad and Emma were off somewhere, and would be spending their free time together for the rest of the time they were here. Now that Paige knew about the relationship, there was no need to keep up the pretense. Chad had apologized to her on the ride to the meeting this morning. He’d wanted to tell her, he’d said, but he hadn’t been sure she would approve.
She’d admitted that she wouldn’t have, and—without a care for possible job ramifications—had told him that if he hurt her sister, she’d gut him. He hadn’t fired her, as she’d half expected, but had instead assured her that he loved Emma and would never hurt her.
While they were at the meeting, Emma had moved her suitcases to Chad’s room.
Which left Paige alone and feeling kind of blue. Though Emma was in college, she’d continued to live at home. Paige was accustomed to having someone there. Of course she’d taken business trips before, and of course she’d stayed alone. But this trip seemed so different, and Emma’s absence so final, that it bothered her
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