At first, Emily Blair didn’t react. Not until Andrew Lane suddenly grabbed her chin, his fingertips digging into her soft skin as he forced her to look up at him.
“Emily Blair,” he said, his voice cold and sharp, his dark eyes shadowed with something unreadable. “What’s with the attitude?”
That’s when it hit her—he’d called her “Emily Blair,” just as she’d called him “Andrew Lane,” instead of the familiar “Andrew.”
Her fingers twisted in the bedsheet as she struggled to keep her tone steady. “Nothing. I’m just tired and want to sleep.”
Andrew let out a quiet, scornful laugh, his grip tightening. “And you really think I’m going to believe that?”
Emily knew she had to make things clear between them, to draw a line before things got even messier.
“What happened this afternoon… my mom said things she shouldn’t have. I apologize for her. Those words weren’t how I really feel.”
In the dark, her voice was clear and unwavering, her eyes wide and honest.
“Andrew, I’ll be better from now on. I won’t bother you anymore.”
She hesitated, then forced herself to finish, “And I promise, I never meant to try and seduce you.”
The words were hard to get out, but at least she’d said them.
Andrew abruptly let go of her and snatched a book from the desk, tossing it in front of her. The book fell open, and on the pages Emily saw her own neat handwriting—page after page filled with the name “Andrew Lane.”
It was everywhere. Line after line. “Andrew Lane.” Her breath caught, her face draining of color.
Those were pages she’d written before everything changed. She’d never had a chance to destroy them—and now Andrew Lane had found them.
He seized her chin again, his gaze sharp and icy as a winter night. “Next time you lie, make sure you hide your tracks first.”



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