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me.
    “Han.”
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

Chapter Four
     
    “Have you stopped sulking yet?”
    I keep my face expressionless and pick at the non-existent lint on the knee of my jeans. I’d kept all communications strictly business for the rest of the work day, going so far as to blatantly ignore his lunch invitation and his request for coffee.
    At this point I hope he fires me and lets me leave. Before I slap him into a goddamned coma. It doesn’t bug me much that I actually enjoyed my morning of ‘shopping’ with Selena, after I’d let go of every scruple I own and pretended I am not a raging liar.
    He doesn’t need to know anything about the fact that I’m not mad or angry or anything that would be much of a threat to him. At least, I’m not angry at him . I am pissed at myself for wanting to cry and bawl like a big cry baby.
    Now it’s seven, and I’m in his car, headed for his ‘apartment’. I say it that way because what he considers a little place in the city is probably big enough to fit my entire childhood home. With room to spare.
    We’re headed there, and I know he wants to talk more than he wants sex — I’m waiting for the sky to fall because of that one — and the truth is, I am incapable of saying anything that won’t humiliate me.
    Do I love Gregory Lucas? No. It’s way too early to even consider anything of the sort, but I like him, a lot, and I don’t want him to know it.
    He sighs at my continued silence and steers the car into an underground structure that just happens to be valet. When I scramble out instead of waiting, he scowls and grabs my elbow impatiently, steering me toward the elevator.
    “You have to talk to me, babe,” he says softly when the doors close, leaving us alone. “Come on, darlin’, scream at me, hit me, do something! ”
    I wait until we’ve gotten off and he’s let me into a huge apartment that, yup, is decorated to perfection, before facing him to drill a finger into his chest.
    “You wanna know what I hate more than lying to that woman?” I ask, digging my finger into his pectoral. “Lying to myself. I spent over an hour convincing myself that what I was doing wasn’t wrong. I spoke to her like we were best friends and watched her try on wedding dresses, and when she couldn’t choose a favorite, I told her which one to take!”
    Shit. Now Selena Jeffries is going walk down the aisle in my dream dress and marry the man I’ve fallen in lust with.
    “You chose the dress?” he asks. “The one you like?”
    I roll my eyes and shove at him, taking delight in the fact that he stumbles back slightly.
    “Yup. And you wanna know what she said?” I ask, not letting him answer. “She said it was perfect and that she hopes one day I get to wear something just like it! And that I find a guy just like you!”
    And then she’d cried and hugged me, and I’d felt slimier than a can of worms as I hugged her back and pretended not to be jealous.
    “You’re such a sadistic A-hole. I can’t believe I’m still attracted to you.”
    His mouth curves in a sly smile, letting me know he’s zeroed in on the fact that I’ve just admitted to being attracted to him. Not ‘I can’t believe I liked you’. Not ‘I can’t believe I found you sexy’. No, I am attracted to him. I’ll probably want the guy till I’m dead and buried, and now he knows it.
    “Hannah, darlin’, come on over here,” he drawls, allowing his thick Southern drawl free rein.
    “No. I’m still spitting mad at you, Gregory Lucas. How could you do that to me?” I breathe past the lump in my throat. “That was worse than the time I told my sister her ass didn’t look fat in tights. Everyone’s ass looks fat in tights. I lied then, and I lied now. To that sweet woman .”
    He pulls me into his arms, ignoring my feeble struggles till I stop and burrow closer, finding comfort in the heat and scent that I know as well as my own.
    “Hannah, darlin’, Selena knows exactly what she’s