“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Remember the time I had the flu?”
I cross my arms. “I’m still not entirely convinced that was the case.”
“So you do remember!” Her laugh turns into a raspy cough.
“Only because I had to hire a clean-up crew to ensure every square inch of the place was scrubbed down.”
“Fine. What about the time I helped you when you got drunk on a business trip?”
“I never wanted your assistance.”
“You were tripping over your own feet and asking me to introduce you to my twin you didn’t know about.”
My tolerance for vodka is right up there with my tolerance toward people —nonexistent.
“Drunk you is so much nicer. You asked me to tuck you into bed and sing you a lullaby.”
“Now I know you’re lying. You’re one of the worst singers I know.” My lips threaten to curve into a smile, but I settle on a grimace instead.
She throws her hands in the air. “Okay, fine. I lied. But I wouldn’t have said no if you asked! Because friends help other friends.”
I’m tempted to pay any price for the word friends to be erased from dictionaries everywhere. I don’t have them. I don’t want them. And I don’t want to be them, especially not hers.
Her raspy laugh turns into a fit of coughs. Before I can stop myself, I grab her tiny purse from the table and shove it into her hands. “Fix that god-awful sound.”
She sifts through her bag to find her inhaler. “Concerned about my well-being?”
“Solely for a self-serving purpose.”
“Of course. How could I forget.” She smiles around the opening of the dispenser before breathing in the medication.
“Let’s get a few things straight.”
Her brows pull together, and her mouth opens, but I silence her. “Any kindness I showed to you in the past is strictly out of respect for you as my assistant. I don’t waste my time on something as pointless as friendship, so if you believe there was anything platonic between us, that falls on you, not me.”
Unlike most women who weep in my presence, Iris only shrugs from my harshness. “Silly me for believing you actually could possess any feelings besides disdain toward anyone else. I can assure you it won’t happen again.”
“I don’t feel anything besides a burning desire to achieve my end goal.”
She sighs. “There’s more to life than destroying your father.”
I ignore her as I check my watch, noting we’re running out of time. “I need to set some ground rules now.”
“Rules.” Her eyes widen to their limits.
“Every look.” The unsteady beat of my heart floods my ears. Her breath catches in her throat as I cup her cheek. My thumb strokes her soft skin, rubbing back and forth like I could brand my name with touch alone. “Every touch.”
Her eyes shut. Every cell of my body burns to retract myself. To put some distance between us because I shouldn’t touch her like this. It blurs too many lines. But I’m useless as I breathe in her coconut scent, and my lungs protest the invasion. “Every single kiss…is nothing but a lie.” My lips brush over the corner of her mouth, and my body feels as if it has been struck with jumper cables.
Her eyes snap open as I pull away, a storm clearly brewing in her head. I pocket my hands, appearing unfazed while her chest rises and falls with each ragged breath she releases.
“You—I—wha—” Her speech is as jumbled as her thoughts. I should feel flattered at my ability to incapacitate her, but it throws me off more than anything. My touch shouldn’t cause that kind of reaction. Not if she was honest when she said she was only doing this because she considers me a friend.
I seek to gain control over the situation again. To throw up some semblance of a barrier around myself. “There is nothing I won’t do to earn my inheritance. Remember that when you forget this is only a game to me.”
Her mouth opens, but she’s cut off by that shrill voice that will haunt me forever.
“All right, you two. The guests are getting antsy to meet the future Mr.
and Mrs.” The wedding planner interrupts us. She points her clipboard toward the entrance to the ballroom like a military commander.
“Are you ready?” Iris latches onto my hand. Her smile is a watered-down version of the one she offered Cal earlier.
I remain silent, knowing anything that comes out of my mouth will only be a lie.
3