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"I didn’t run," Bront&euritted out "And this is none of your business"

"Bad in bed," Sharon pronounced triu her down

Brontë tucked a pencil and pad in her apron with extra care, deter her, Brontë reasoned And what exactly could she coreat in bed Why did I run? Because he was loaded and he didn’t tell me I felt like he lied to me

Sharon wouldn’t understand that She’d hear the word "loaded," and her brain would stop functioning And she’d insist on Bront&eu Sharon his number And she wasn’t sure she wanted to do either

She’d had a weekend to stew on her strategic retreat All the way to the airport, then on the flight hoan waiting for her The fact that he hadn’t bothered to come after her made her feelwell, she wasn’t sure Part of her was disappointed that he’d let her walk away and part of her was relieved

Bront&euotten home He wasn’t just the owner of the resort, she’d found out He owned that and an airline And another hotel in Vegas And a castle in England And a private island in Fiji And a dozen other companies that she didn’t even knohat they did

Logan Hawkings was not just rich He was obscenely rich Billionaire rich

And that scared the hell out of her It was just as well that he’d lied to her, or she would’ve run away Guys like that had the ability to ruin someone’s life That was a little too much power, in her opinion

And sure, he’d been handsome and flirtyon the island Then, it had been just the two of theotten to Jonathan’s swanky house (which apparently was s had changed He’d gone fron creature with tons of money, and she hadn’t kno to handle that

So she’d run away

It was for the best, she told herself People like Logan moved in entirely different circles from people like Brontë Besides, he wasn’t really interested in her She could just iine how he’d sneered to hiood for a fling, but that was about it And he’d told her that he didn’t want a long-terh

Sorabbed a pitcher, heading over to the table

She was a waitress, and she had a s in sos’s life

As soon as Logan returned to New York, he contacted his private detective to get an update on Brontë

"Found her," the detective said into the phone "I’ the information over to your personal e-mail address Let me know if you have any questions"

"Excellent work," Logan told hi up He hit refresh on his e- out theat the New York skyline Gorgeous night Gorgeous weather

But he was restless as hell

He blamed Brontë and the island He’d woken up froht before and had found hi erection When he rode the elevator to his office, he autoht of Brontë curled up on the floor in the darkness in her bra and panties, and the way she’d slid her ass into his face as she’d escaped When sole

Hemissed her

It was pointless and a bit stupid, of course He’d only known her for a few days He’d spentso easy and likable about Bront&eu of him but his attention She hadn’t asked not-so-innocent questions about invest Sexy

And she’d run away froan swiveled in his chair He ignored theinvite that popped up on his calendar and opened the e-mail attachments instead, pleased to see the info he’d requested

His private investigator was thorough, he’d give him that Enclosed were several scans of Brontë’s personal documents Her driver’s license showed a woman with s smile were his Brontë Bront&eue twenty-four Kansas City, Missouri He studied the picture of her, then moved on to the credit report Soious Very normal middle-class American He moved to her employment history next She currently worked at Josie’s Diner The private detective had even taken a few photos froan’s breath caught at a picture of Brontë in a short pink waitress costume with a frilly apron Her head was tilted, and she looked like she was laughing at sout churned with jealousy

The next item was a brief history of the diner and financials on it The place wasout of business There was a list of prior addresses that Bront&eu with roommates Female names Good She didn’t have a live-in boyfriend Not that he thought she would She didn’t strike him as the type to lie about her relationship status when she’d been so very offended by his lie about his financial status

His gaze fell on her phone nu

"Hello?"

Her voice was soft and pleasant, just like he remembered "It’s me, Brontë"

He heard her suck in a breath "Don’t call me Please"

"I wanted--"

"You’re a liar" She hung up

He stared down at the phone He wasn’t going to call and beg her to see him That wasn’t his style But he wanted to talk to her To see if they could connect like they had on the island He needed to find a way that she’d be unable to avoid seeing hih the inforator had sent him and paused on the diner’s financial info And he smiled

"Hello?" Bront&eu at the clock next to the bed It was seven thirty in the ency