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Despite my disquiet, I blush.

“But if I had slept with you that night, you would have avoided me after the divorce. You would have dismissed me as a part of your past, written me off as a mistake, and made your new life without me.”

Again, he’s right. He understands me, deep down. It makes me glow…even as it scares me to death.

“Walking away from you with just a kiss on your forehead…I don’t think I’ve ever done anything more difficult. For a week, I second-guessed myself. And jacked off every damn night, fantasizing about having you in my bed, all to myself. I couldn’t stop thinking about the sexy cleavage, the flash of leg, the hint of flirtation in your smile. But when you filed for divorce that next week, I knew I’d done the right thing.”

I bite my lip. I don’t know what to say.

“Since then, I’ve been keeping you close, waiting for you to recover and feel ready to date…”

He’s been keeping me close? Does that mean… I gasp as another betrayal looms in my mind. “Oh, my god. My job. You didn’t hire me for my ability, but to fu⁠—”

He slaps a hand over my mouth. “Stop there. I didn’t hire you to fuck you. I wanted you on staff for your ability. I know you’re wholly capable of your job, and you’ve proven it time and again. Danson and Martin both have said more than once they wished they’d hired you first.”

I stew. Maybe that’s true. Likely, even. I’m damn good at my job and I know it. “But the whole setup was awfully convenient for you.”

“I won’t deny that. I got a fabulous, hard worker and to spend my days with the woman I knew I wanted to spend my nights with, too.”

It’s overwhelming, so much to digest. “How am I supposed to trust anything you say?”

“I’m not the enemy.”

“Are you sure? Most of my pals don’t deceive and manipulate me.”

“Do any of them want to love you forever?”

I don’t answer that, and Noah curses.

“This is bullshit.” He vaults off the bed. “You know I’m not out to hurt you. My only goal was to make you realize something you were too fucking scared to realize for yourself: we belong together. And now you’re going to dismiss everything between us because you don’t like the way I went about it?”

“Did you think that manipulating and lying would make me believe that you love me and are ready to give up your collection of women for some happily ever after with me?”

“I thought we’d have a much better shot if you stopped deceiving yourself,” he snarls. “I still think that. I wouldn’t have had to invent a nonexistent woman to ask you advice about or dress up as Mr. Mysterious if you were willing to be honest with yourself.”

“You’re going to blame me?” Is he for real?

“Why are you upset? You wanted a lover, and we wanted each other. Oh, you made a great show of pretending you wanted our relationship platonic. I just found a way to let you feel how good we are together for yourself and stop denying the pull between us.”

What he says makes sense…in a twisted way. But that doesn’t make it all right. “And you thought deceiving me would do that? That’s insane!”

That comment pisses him off, if his thunderous expression is anything to go by. “It’s using the resources at my disposal. And it worked. You responded to me every time I sneaked into your house and made love to you.”

“I didn’t know it was you.”

“Doesn’t matter. You pretended it was me.”

Noah has me with that fact. I moaned that very confession mere minutes ago.

I pull the sheet tighter against my breasts. Noah’s logic is firing on all cylinders. It won’t be long before he starts putting two and two together and coming up with something other than five. He’s going to figure out that I more than like him, more than want him. He'll take advantage of my tender feelings—until he gets bored and leaves. He might think he’s ready for happily ever after, but he has no practice in staying beyond the orgasm.

“That’s a small point in the larger scheme of all your lying. I admit, I pretended it was you once or twice, for a moment or two. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Now you’re lying, too. You responded to ‘a stranger’ because you were thinking of me. I know how that game is played. And why it’s played. It means something, sugar. Own up to it.”

“It means I hadn’t had sex in two years.”

“But not just that. If you were thinking of me and wanting me, but avoiding me, there’s a reason. It means you care.”