Page 22 of Bargain Match

“You,” I say at last. The word comes out almost as a hiss. “You’re behind all this?”

“I can explain.”

“Before you get into making excuses?—”

“They’re not excuses. I?—”

I hold up my hand to stop him. “I just have a few questions that I need you to clarify for me.”

For a second, he looks as if he’d like to object. Then, with a nod—and a deep gulp that makes his Adam’s apple bob up and down—he motions for me to begin.

See, he can be smart when he isn’t being an idiot.

I take a deep breath of my own before beginning. If possible, I’d like to avoid the whole biting his head off deal if I can. No matter how much he might deserve it.

“First, did you or did you not go behind my back to contact the organizers of the contest?”

“I wouldn’t put it like that.”

My eye twitches, and I stare him down.

Releasing a frustrated grunt, Burke runs a hand down his beard. “I did contact the contest organizers.”

I narrow my eyes.

He sighs, and his hand falls in his lap. “Without your knowledge.”

“Potato, pa-tah-toe,” I mumble under my breath before asking, “And did you or did you not make some sort of deal to get us both through to the date round?”

“Obviously, I did.”

“And, did you—for whatever reason—ask the matchmaker to pair us up as a couple.”

“For all the good it’s done me, yes. I did.”

Burke looks and sounds miserable. Ordinarily, I’d feel bad for him. Not this time.

“Okay.” Turning away from him, I buckle my seatbelt and switch the car back on.

“Don’t you want to know why I did it?”

Of course, I do. I’d have to be out of my mind not to know why he felt the need to pull all of these strings. But at the moment, I’m not sure I can stand to listen to him say one more word.

Because, no matter what his reasoning, he lied to me. Every day he didn’t tell me the truth, he lied to me. And by his own admission, he planned to keep on lying to me.

Indefinitely.

Clenching my jaw, I shake my head at him and put the car back into drive. I nearly stall switching from first to second gear, but I silently pull back onto the road and drive the few kilometers to the next village.

I can hear Burke take several deep breaths and clear his throat. I can practically feel the heat of his stare as he watches me. But I refuse to look at or speak to him.

I pull up in front of a store and put the car in park. Burke watches me curiously.

“Get out.”

His jaw drops. “What?”

“I want you to get out of the car.”