Maisey Yates

A Game Of Vows


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chuckled. “You always were an accomplished little liar.”

      “Well, I don’t feel good about this one.”

      “You felt good about the others?”

      She truly didn’t know the answer. “I … I never thought about how I felt about it. Just about whether or not it was necessary. Anyway, I don’t lie as a matter of course.”

      “You just lie about really big things infrequently?”

      “Every job application has started with questions about college. Didn’t I get near-perfect grades at university? Didn’t I have a prestigious internship at Vega Communications? No lies. No one wants to know about high school, not once you’ve been through university.”

      “And your fiancé?”

      “Never asked many questions. He liked what he knew about me.” And neither of them knew all that much. Something she was realizing now that she was being haunted by her past. She and Zack had never even slept together. Not for lack of attraction. She’d been quite attracted to him, impossible not to be, but until things were legal and permanent between them she’d felt the need to hang on to that bit of control.

      It was so much easier to deny her sex drive than to end up back where she’d been nine years ago. Being that girl, that was unacceptable. She never would be again.

      “Lies by omission are still lies, querida.

      “Then we’re all liars.”

      “Now, that’s true enough.”

      “Show me to my room,” she said, affecting her commanding, imperious tone. The one she had gotten so good at over the years. “I’m tired.”

      A slow smile curved his lips and she fought the urge to punch him.

      “Of course, darling.”

      This time, he picked up her bags without incident and she followed him into her room. Her room. Her throat tightened. Her first experience with homecoming. Why should it mean anything? He had replaced the bedding. A new dark-colored comforter, new sable throw pillows, new satin curtains on the windows to match. The solid desk she’d loved to work at was still in its corner. Unmoved. There was no dust on it, but then, Eduardo had always had a great housekeeper.

      “This is … perfect,” she said.

      “I’m glad you still like it. I remember you being … giddy over it back when we were first married.”

      “It was the nicest room I’d ever been in,” she said, opting to give him some honesty, a rare thing from her. “The sheets were … heaven.”

      “The sheets?”

      She cleared her throat. “I have a thing for high-quality sheets. And you definitely have them here.”

      “Well, now you get to live here again. And reap the benefits of the sheets.”

      She arched a brow. “My fiancé was a billionaire, you know.”

      “Yes, I know. I would expect you to find nothing less,” he said.

      “I’m not sure how I feel about your assessment of my character, Eduardo. You express no shock over Zack’s financial status, or over the fact that we weren’t in love.”

      “You’re mercenary. I know it … you know it. It’s not shocking.”

      She was mercenary. If being mercenary meant she did what she had to to ensure her own success. Her own survival. She’d needed to be. To move up from the life she’d been born into. To overcome the devastating consequences of her youthful actions. And she’d never lost a wink of sleep over it. But for some reason, the fact that it was so obvious to Eduardo was a little bit unsettling.

      “Is it mercenary to try and improve the quality of your life?” she asked.

      “It depends on the route you take.”

      “And the resources available to you are a major factor in deciding which route to take,” she said.

      “I’m not judging you, Hannah, believe it or not.”

      She planted her hands on her hips. “No, you’re just using me.”

      “As you said, you do what you must to improve the quality of your life.” His expression was strange, tense. Dark.

      She looked away. “I have to do something.”

      “What is that?”

      She looked down at her left hand, at the massive, sparkly engagement ring Zack had given her a few months earlier. She tugged it off her finger, a strange sensation moving through her like a strong wind. Sadness. Regret. Relief.

      “I have to send this to Zack.” She held it up and realized her hands were shaking. She couldn’t keep it. Not for another second. Because mercenary she might be. But she wasn’t a thief. She wouldn’t take from Zack. Wouldn’t do any more damage than she’d already done.

      “I can have someone do that for you. Do you know where he is?”

      “Thailand,” she said, without missing a beat. “We were supposed to honeymoon there.”

      “And you think he went?” he asked, dark eyebrows raised.

      She smiled. “Zack had business in Thailand, so yes, I think he went. No, I know he went. He’s not the kind of man to let a little thing like an interrupted marriage keep him from accomplishing his goals.”

      Eduardo studied her, dark eyes intense. “Perhaps he was perfect for you.”

      “Yeah, well, I’m trying not to dwell on that.” She held the ring out and Eduardo opened his hand. She dropped it into his palm. “I have the address of the place we were meant to stay at.”

      “Bien. I’ll call a courier and have it rushed.” He closed his hand around the ring, the glittering gem disappearing. All she could think of was that he held her future in his hand. The future that might have been. The one that was not eclipsed by Eduardo.

      She looked up, their eyes clashing. Her throat tightened, halting her breath.

      “Good,” she said, barely able to force out the words. She turned to the desk and saw a pad and pen slotted into the wooden slats built into it for organization. It was where she’d kept them when she’d lived here. She bent and scribbled the address for the house she should be in now, with Zack.

      Her fingers felt stiff and cold around the pen. She straightened and handed him the note. “There. That should do it.”

      “I’m surprised you don’t want to keep the ring.”

      “Why? I didn’t keep the one you gave me, either.”

      “We had a prior agreement. I get the feeling you didn’t have an agreement like that with him.”

      “Separate beds, separate lives, unless a public appearance is needed? No. We were meant to be married for real.” She swallowed hard. “And all things considered, I don’t feel right keeping his ring. I was the one who wronged him.”

      “Careful, Hannah, I might start thinking you grew a conscience in our time apart.”

      “I’ve always had one,” she said. “It’s been inconvenient sometimes.”

      “Not too inconvenient.”

      “Oh, what would you know about a conscience, Eduardo?”

      “Very little. Only that it occasionally takes the form of a cricket.”

      A reluctant laugh escaped her lips. “That sounds about right. So … if you could mail my ring to him, that would be great.”

      “I’ll call now.” He turned and walked out of the room, leaving her alone.

      She sat on the