Runaway Wolfes of Manhattan Three - Helen Hardt Page 0,55

in the Wolfe household—has its price.” He cleared his throat. “How do you know Riley, anyway?”

“She stayed at my cabin earlier this week.”

Rock raised one eyebrow. “What? She stayed where?”

“You didn’t know?”

“Hell, no. None of us knew where she was. Where’s your cabin?”

“A small town in Montana. Sumter Falls.”

His eyes softened. “Fuck. Montana.”

“You know Montana.” I didn’t inflect my voice, as I already knew he did.

“Montana’s my home, man. It’s a long and boring story.”

“It doesn’t sound boring to me.”

“Damn. She went to Montana,” he said more to himself than to me. “Good for her.”

“I’m not following.”

“Like I said, it’s a long and boring story.”

“I’m listening,” I said.

“I’m sure you are, but unfortunately I have to mingle with Daddy’s mourning public. Maybe later we can grab a drink.”

“But Riley—”

“She’ll be along. Give her a break. Today is…tough for her.”

“I know that. I’m sure it’s tough for all of you. Losing a parent isn’t easy for anyone.”

“True that. But not necessarily for the reasons you think. Excuse me. Help yourself to whatever you want.” He walked away without smiling.

I reflected on his words.

I have to mingle with Daddy’s mourning public.

Had that been a note of sarcasm in his tone?

Sure seemed like it.

Was this all for show?

Was this—

All thoughts in my head ceased.

In the doorway stood my dream.

Riley.

And she met my gaze.

Her jaw dropped. She turned and ran back out the door.

Like a jackrabbit, I sprang after her. She stopped at the elevator and frantically pushed the button.

Until I covered her hand with mine. “Baby.”

She gazed at her feet as I took her hand, brought it away from the elevator button and to my lips, and kissed it.

Then she finally looked at me, those deep brown eyes so full of pain.

“I’m so sorry,” I said.

“H-How did you find me?”

“Are you kidding? How could I not find you, Riley? I…” I gathered every last morsel of courage I possessed. “I love you, baby. I love you.”

“You love Riley Mansfield. Not Riley Wolfe. Riley Wolfe is…a mess.”

“She looks pretty good from where I’m standing.”

“Matt, please…”

“Please what?”

“You have to go. You don’t belong here.”

“At the Waldorf? Drinking champagne to honor your dead father? Maybe not.” A wave of sadness swept through me. “I come from a humble background, which you didn’t seem to have a problem with a few days ago.”

She shook her head vehemently. “That’s not what I mean. Those last few days were… God, Matt, they were heaven, but they belong to someone who doesn’t exist.”

“Riley Mansfield. I get it.” I trailed a finger over her perfectly sculpted cheekbone. “I’d already figured out you weren’t who you claimed to be. You’re not that good an actress.”

Her eyes widened.

“Of course, all I knew is that you weren’t a business ed teacher in Philly. I didn’t guess you were a supermodel and heiress to a billion-dollar fortune.”

She smiled weakly. “I can’t imagine anyone could guess that.”

“Remember when we were in the flower shop and Kari said you looked familiar?”

She nodded.

“She found photos of you in one of her fashion magazines. I did some quick checking and found out your father had recently died. I know you came to me for an escape, Riley, and I sincerely hope I helped. I’m so sorry.”

“You did help. You helped a lot. But those days were a fantasy for me, Matt. They’re not something I have the luxury of keeping.”

“Sure you do. I’m here. Now. And I want to be with you.”

“Because I’m rich.”

“For fuck’s sake.” I curled my hands into fists. “You don’t mean that. Tell me you don’t.”

“Why else would you travel almost two thousand miles to find me?”

“Seriously? I just told you, Riley. I love you.”

“You haven’t even known me a week.”

“So?”

She shook her head. “No one falls in love in a week. Except my brothers, apparently.”

“What?”

“Rock and Lacey, and then Roy and Charlie. They fell in love quickly.”

“There you go, then,” I said. “It’s possible.”

“But not for me.”

“Are you saying you don’t love me?”

A vise squeezed my heart.

Yes, that’s what I’m saying, Matt. I don’t love you.

Those could very likely be the next words out of that gorgeous mouth of hers, and I braced myself. Steeled myself. Because they might very well knock me on my ass.

“No,” she finally said. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

The vise around my heart loosened but still maintained a good grip. I wasn’t out of the woods yet. Not by a long shot. “What are you saying, then?”

“I’m saying you don’t love me. You don’t love Riley Wolfe. You didn’t

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