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Taylor

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

“A job offer? I can't think of any job offer you could make that would interest me.”

I try to stay calm, keeping my end of the bargain—to have dinner with him—but inside, I’m trembling. Now I understand what Jackie meant when she said I’d been in love with William. The moment he claimed me, I remembered our first time and how he made me feel as intensely as today.

“It has to do with my job and yours, actually,” he says.

“How could that be possible? I know you’re a doctor.”

“You do volunteer work playing violin for the children at the association. I want to pay you to play at the hospital, three times a week, in the children’s ward for cancer patients who are hospitalized.”

I stare at him, slack-jawed, not believing what I’m hearing. After what happened upstairs—and after what he thinks of me—I thought he’d propose something obscene. I feel my face flush with embarrassment and, at the same time, for having overestimated how attractive he finds me.

“Why me?”

“Why not? I’ve been considering this for some time, and, having someone I know handy, it seemed logical to kill two birds with one stone.”

“Except you despise me.”

He doesn’t deny it. Irritatingly, he takes a sip of the champagne as if he has all the time in the world, then grimaces.

I blink, surprised. “You don’t like champagne?”

“No. I’m a hard liquor man.”

“Then why agree to my request?”

“You’re my guest.”

“No. I’m your . . . purchase . . . until dinner ends,” I say, a bitter taste in my mouth. I immediately regret it. Bickering with him for the next few hours won’t help anything. “Sorry.”

“I’m not the sensitive type, Taylor.”

“I’d never have guessed, William. You strike me as a flowers-and-hearts kind of guy.”

“Don’t be sarcastic.”

This time I don’t apologize, because that would be a lie. In some twisted, insane way, I enjoy provoking him. “Tell me about the job offer.”

“No, first finish eating. Once you’re done, I’ll show you something.”

* * *

An hour later, he has me follow him upstairs again, and the force of his presence behind me is so intense I swear I can feel his body heat. I’m curious about what he wants to show me, and also to hear what he’ll say about this supposed job.

If I am pregnant, I can’t refuse a paid position. Besides helping Jackie with our shared expenses, it would also support me and my child.

My God, a child!

A child with a man who thinks the worst of me, believes I jumped from his bed to his father’s. I try to push away the anger that jolts through me, recalling our argument and the things we said to each other.

When I arrived here, I hoped to find answers; the only one I got is that Jackie was partially right: he resents me and paid for my company to get revenge.

“The salary will be good, I promise,” he says.

I jump slightly at his voice, and when I turn around on the stairs, I lose my balance.

He grabs my waist. “Careful.”

Before I realize what he’s doing, he’s scooped me into his arms, only setting me on my feet again when we reach the upper floor.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“‘Shouldn’t have done’ seems to be the motto of our story together, Taylor.”

“We don’t have a story, William. I barely remember anything, but from what I see, all we ever had was sex and distrust.”

“Barely anything?”

Damn.

I look away, but he won’t let me off so easily, gripping my chin.

“Taylor?”

“When we . . .when we were . . .I remembered the first time you and I . . .”

Something flickers in his gaze, and I know he means to lean closer before he even does it.

“No. We already made a mistake today. We’re not repeating it. Show me what you want me to see so we can talk about the job.”

“You didn’t sound too interested in working for me until now.”

“You’re mistaken. I’d already started looking, but from what I see in my documents, I don’t have many qualifications.”

“You play violin. You even got a scholarship as a kid.”

I blink, surprised. “So you do believe I lost my memory? Otherwise, why tell me that?”

“Don’t ask what I believe about you, Taylor. You probably wouldn’t like the answer.”

He opens a door, letting me enter first.

I walk by him with my head high, as though his last words didn’t hurt me. But once I’m inside the room, I turn back to him, startled. There’s hardly any furniture: just a few chairs, an armchair, and a violin case.

“A music room?”

He shrugs. “It never really got used for that, but that’s not the point. The point is giving you something I never had time for in the past.”