Page 140 of Crushing Clover

Whatever he wanted, I couldn’t afford.

I stared at the envelope on the desk and contemplated how many things we’d gone without to make our payments on Cygnet. We were almost done, almost free from Warren.

Finally.

But I knew this man. He would insist that either we go back into eyeballs-deep debt to buy her from him, or give her up.

That had been his whole point in giving her to me, of course. The bullshit about me needing an heir was all smoke andmirrors. He didn’t like that I enjoyed men, but the larger issue was he couldn’t stand the idea of not having a way to control me anymore.

“Disappointing.” He shrugged. “Oh well. One more month and I’ll take her off your hands.”

“What are you planning to do with her?” I asked, despite myself.

“She’ll go back up for auction, I suppose. Last time, I outbid a man from northern Russia. There’s no guessing where she’ll end up after this.” His brow winged upward. “Do you care?”

“No.” I hooked my thumbs into the beltloops of my jeans, trying to look casual instead of murderous. “I just can’t believe you bought a person. That’s low, even for you.”

“I may have bought her, but you kept her.”

As part of the conditions of keeping Cygnet. He’d cornered me into that.

He waved a dismissive hand, as though Clover and her fate were inconsequential. It pissed me the fuck off, but I couldn’t let him see that.

“How is Cygnet doing?”

“Really well,” I said suspiciously. The man never showed interest in my life without a selfish reason.

“No reviews by anyone important, though. Arabella’s little place won something prestigious, I hear.”

Irritation bloomed through me. Why did he know that, and why did he have to be such a prick about it? “Did it? Good for her.”

The amused twist of his mouth was exhausting. With Warren, it always felt as though we were playing a game of chess and I was doing the intellectual equivalent of chewing on the board.

Whatever.

“I’m going.”

“In a hurry?” he asked mildly.

“No. You’re boring.” I got up and walked out.

Worried and exhausted, I got into my truck. I would stop the Tilt-a-Whirl of my mind with an unhealthy dose of loud music and speeding.

Chapter 28

The office at Cygnet was spotless, and Lucky had helped me hang the colorful streamers, although he’d drawn the line at blowing up balloons. I’d had to do those myself.

“Why are we doing this here instead of at home?” Lucky asked.

“I had time to decorate the office while you guys were working. If I’d waited until we’d gone home, it would have taken me forever, and everyone would have fallen asleep.”

“Why go to so much trouble with the decorations?”

I paused, holding the stem of the balloon I was blowing up so it wouldn’t lose the progress I’d made. “What would you have done if I wasn’t here to organize this for him?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Buy a keg of beer? Order pizza? That’s what I did this time. You’re just making it look nicer.”

“You’re seriously getting pizza delivered to the restaurant? Won’t they kill you?”

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