Page 70 of A Prescription to My Heart

“The kiss didn’t feel very professional.”

Her cheeks flush, and I catch it before she hides behind her mug again.

“You kissed me, remember?” she snaps.

“You didn’t stop me.”

She doesn’t respond.

“Talia…” Her name sits strange on my tongue this morning. Heavier. Hungrier.

She stands. Rinses her cup. Her back is straight, every movement calculated.

“Talia,” I say again, firmer. “Talk to me.”

“Iamtalking,” she says, turning around. “And I’m telling you that it’s getting confusing. For me. For us. For Marigold. We said this would be an arrangement. That’s it.”

I rise to my feet, slow and measured. “Then why did you defend me to Patrick and Camille at the gala? Why did you admit your feelings?

That catches her.

Her brows knit together. “What?”

“Why did you defend me in front of them, and then tell me this feelsrealto you if you felt nothing?”

She looks away. Guilty. Flustered.

“That didn’t sound very professional to me either,” I add.

She crosses her arms. “Maybe I shouldn’t have.”

“Wrong answer.”

Her eyes flash. “Excuse me?”

“You did it because you care,” I say, voice low. “Whether you like it or not.”

She opens her mouth. Shuts it again.

I close the distance between us. “I know this is messy. I know it wasn’t supposed to go this far. But don’t insult both of us by pretending it’s notreal.”

She swallows. “You don’t know what’s real for me.”

“I know what that kiss was.”

Her breath catches.

“And I know what I felt,” I say, softer now. “Still feel.”

Her eyes gloss over, and for a second, I think she might say something.Anything.

But instead, she whispers, “We can’t afford this.”

“Why?”

“Because if it goes wrong, Marigold losesbothof us.”

The silence that follows is deafening. I step back. Her hands drop to her sides, and she looks wrecked. I want to reach for her. I don’t.

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