Free Wilde Heart (Wilde Women Book 2) by Suzanne Halliday Page B

that she knew there’d never be another like him in her life. So she never bothered to look. Or dream. Or hope. Not once in the almost eight long years.
    But now here he was and all she could think of was how complicated and fucked up the situation was. She knew he was a closed book—always had been. There was dark shit going on his mind that he never shared—not even with her. And that frightened Rhi. He was too powerful. Too damn good-looking. Too wealthy. She wasn’t stupid—he could pretty much have anything he wanted.
    She glanced out the window and was relieved to see the rain had stopped. Well, at least there was that small mercy.
    “Rhiann,” he husked, deep and low.
    Hesitantly, she looked at him. His eyes were dark and stormy—like the weather.
    “We need to talk. Alone, ” Liam muttered with a scowl at the back of his driver’s head.
    Talk? Okay. But there was something she needed to know first. No more dancing around the subject, so she blurted out the question that never left her.
    “Did you buy the magazine because of me?”
    “Yes.”
    His swift answer left Rhiann floundering. Somehow, she hadn’t expected him to take ownership of what was essentially an accusation.
    “To what end, Liam? I mean . . .” She paused searching for the right way to express her fears. “We didn’t exactly part company as friends.”
    She saw his slight flinch and nodded. So—he knew he’d been a dick. Honestly, Rhi didn’t have a clue what to make of this.
    “No one’s ever been that mean to me,” she confessed in an anguished whisper. “You broke my heart, Liam Ashforth, and I’ve never forgiven you for it.”
    “Nor should you.”
    She was getting worked up and anxious. “If you feel that way, what the hell is this all about? Have you come back for round two? Is this about destroying me completely for the sin of actually having loved you? Because, if it is—say so now. I’ll resign from Passion and save you the trouble.”
    He sighed and looked out the car window. She watched him clench and unclench his fist and just wanted to cry. Liam Ashforth might have everything, but he didn’t know how to deal with the world of emotion.
    On a strangled groan, he turned back to her and whispered, “I know it’s a lot to ask but could we please start at the beginning? Again?”
    “What are you saying, Liam? Start at the beginning of what?” Glaring at him with a furious frown, she growled, “I’m not sleeping with you! Technically, you sign my paycheck. That’s where we are now. Employer. Employee. I don’t see where a new start figures in.”
    His scowl fractured into a hundred pieces and darkened his face. “I see,” he answered frigidly. “And for the record, I wasn’t asking you to my bed.”
    Wait a minute. What in the hell just happened there? Was he actually sulking because she hadn’t fallen headlong into his arms? Oh, for heaven’s sake. Was she supposed to forget that he’d just dropped her all those years ago—like a lead weight? And now, after interfering in her life to the point that he bought the company she worked for, he was going to act all pissy and grumpy because she wasn’t immediately on board with whatever crazy fuckery was swirling in his head?
    Men. What the hell? Enough already! She was tired and anxious and quite frankly—sick of his shit.
    “Well, fine then,” she snapped. “I guess we’re finished here.” Grabbing her big tote bag along with her jacket and purse, she went to open the car door but turned back for one last salvo.
    “Thanks for the rain rescue. And the tonsil hockey. You haven’t lost your touch, Ashforth.”
    And with that, she swung out of the big sedan, slammed the door behind her, and ran across the sidewalk to the little, overgrown courtyard of her apartment building.
    From the backseat, Liam watched her go and shook his head. Negotiate a multi-national, global deal? Yep. No problem. Maintain control around a woman? That woman? Not so