Julian’s head was pounding from all the yelling—he was seriously tempted to toss Genevieve right out the door.
Maybe she was worried about disturbing Mrs. Rayburn, because Wesley finally emerged from the room and closed the door behind him. “Are you done yelling?” he asked, voice flat.
Genevieve bit her lower lip, looking wounded. “You promised my mom you’d come for dinner!”
“I did promise,” Wesley replied with a dry chuckle. “But I never said I’d definitely show up, did I?”
She froze. “Are you—are you just playing us?”
“You tried to manipulate me first. I’m just returning the favor,” Wesley said, and in that moment, there was nothing gentlemanly about him. His eyes were cold and calculating, utterly devoid of warmth.
He was anything but the mild-mannered man he pretended to be.
Genevieve stepped closer, grabbing his arm. “No, that was my mom, not me! And nothing even happened between us, right? Wesley, I just want you to marry me, that’s all.”
Wesley motioned for Julian to leave. Once the butler had gone, Wesley pulled his arm free. “You know, you called Charlotte desperate the other day. But look at yourself right now—throwing your dignity away, begging a man to marry you.”
Genevieve stood there, stunned. But she still insisted she was nothing like Charlotte. “Charlotte knew my brother was in love with someone else, and she still married him! That’s what makes someone desperate. But you—”
“How do you know I’m not in love with someone else?” Wesley cut her off.
Genevieve faltered, shaking her head in denial. “Impossible! I checked your background—there’s no other woman in your life!”
Wesley laughed as he buttoned his shirt cuffs. “The information you found is just what I want people to see. How much of it do you think is real, and how much is just for show?”
Genevieve’s voice died in her throat. She stood there, dazed and speechless.
After a long silence, she finally found the courage to ask, “Do you like Charlotte?”
“I do,” Wesley answered without hesitation.
But it wasn’t the kind of love Genevieve feared.

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