Page 59 of Bought

But now he’ll know the kind of woman you really are.

So, what if he did? Sure, I was a two-bit hacker who took on dubious jobs from a low life to make ends meet, had nothing to my name, and was currently sleeping on someone else’s couch because I didn’t have anywhere else to go, but that was what it was. Who cared?

I didn’t like the idea of him knowing my most recent position was at Cross, and he’d probably be wondering how I managed to get the job and then….

I forced the thoughts away. One thing at a time.

“So, Arcadia,” he said flatly. “Was selling your virginity just for the money?”

I didn’t even think about lying, especially when he was this angry, cold rage pouring off him. “Yes,” I said as levelly as I could. “I assume you did a background check on me?” Because of course he would have.

Again, he said nothing, which was an answer all on its own.

“Okay fine,” I went on. “So, you know the answer. Of course, it was for the money. You’ll have seen that I have no education and that means finding a job difficult. I have nothing. I wanted to get out of New York, and this was one way to do it.”

“If finding a job is difficult,” he bit out, “then why did you have one at Cross?”

“A friend showed me the job ad and I applied.” It was more or less the truth. “For some reason they decided to overlook my lack of education and work history.”

“‘For some reason’,” he repeated. “How convenient. Especially since Isabel was working there too.”

The cold in my gut became ice.

“Look, she worked in the cubicle next to mine, and we got to talking and—”

“You told me at Arcadia you were there for me.” A muscle flicked in the side of his strong jaw. “Did you target me?”

“Are you asking me whether getting to know Isabel was part of a plan to target you?” Might as well grab the bull by the horns right away.

“Well, was it?”

I had to be very careful here, very, very careful. “Getting to know Isabel made me…aware of you. But I didn’t know you’d be at Arcadia that night. When I saw you in the audience, I knew who you were, and I…wanted you.” I didn’t look away from him, even though holding his gaze was difficult. “I hoped you’d buy me. Yes, I knew you were rich, and Isabel had said a few things about you being overprotective and I…I liked the thought of that. I hoped that would mean you’d buy me and, well… You did.”

The muscle in his jaw flicked again. “How did you find out about Arcadia?”

I kept it very simple. “I already had the idea of selling my virginity and I was doing some research into it. I read something online about Arcadia and I contacted the woman involved and she gave me Arcadia’s contact details.” I swallowed and then added, “Isabel doesn’t know anything. When I texted her last night, I just told her it was a one-night-stand.” Another lie, but I put as much conviction as I could into it, making sure my gaze didn’t flicker. I didn’t want to get her in trouble with her father, not when she already had her own problems with him.

There was a moment’s tense silence and then I asked, because I had to know, “You saw Isabel’s name in my contacts, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And so you…what? Just knew it was your daughter?”

“I’m a suspicious man. I’ve told you that already. You’re in my house, and I had no idea who you were, and you refused to tell me. I have enemies and I wanted to know if you were one of them.”

A strange ache closed my throat, though again, I didn’t know why. Because why it should it matter to me if he thought I was his enemy? I wasn’t, but there was no reason I should care if he thought I was. “So, it wasn’t about me, then? You only wanted to know if I was an enemy or not?”

He stared at me, his gaze sharper than a knife. “Are you?”

“No,” I said huskily. “Why would you think that?”

“Because you’re lying to me, Zara.” My name felt like a slap. “You’ve been lying to me ever since you got here and you’re still lying now.”

My chin came up, a saving thread of anger pushing through the ice. “I’m not. I told you—”

“You haven’t told me the real reason you’re here and it’s not just for me.” He shoved himself away from the doorframe suddenly and straightened, stalking into the room, coming over to where I sat on the desk. I kept still as he came closer, trying to hide the way I shivered, shame, fear, and anger knotting in my gut. Fear of his disapproval. Shame at the things I’d kept from him. Anger that I should feel shame and fear when there was no reason for me to feel either.

If you find that evidence, the Hamiltons will take him down and that will be your fault.