Preston offered a quiet, flat excuse.
Melanie rolled her eyes hard.
If he wanted her to wait, he could have just used his words instead of getting handsy.
He just wanted an excuse to cop a feel!
She screamed in silent protest.
But honestly, given how breathtakingly gorgeous he was, she didn't fight too hard to escape.
Thinking back to the scarred, universally despised outcast he had been four years ago, and looking at the absolute god he had become, Melanie knew his trash adoptive parents were probably vomiting blood from regret.
Truthfully, she was incredibly curious about how exactly he had been reclaimed by the Whitmores.
But he clearly didn't want to talk about it, which was why he had glossed over it earlier.
She remembered he used the phrase "switched at birth."
Who had he been switched with?
Gabriel Whitmore's grinning face flashed in her mind, and her eyes widened in realization.
Was that why the two brothers looked absolutely nothing alike? Because they didn't share a drop of blood?
Realizing she was once again hyper-fixating on Preston's life, she squeezed her eyes shut and aggressively shook her head.
Her top priority was to follow the Stellaris clues and drag her mother's real killers into the light.
Preston's family drama was none of her business.
When she opened her eyes again, her gaze was icy and composed.
"So... how long exactly do you plan on holding me?"
Her tone carried a sharp edge of irritation and rebuke.
Preston lowered his eyes, masking the deep hurt flashing through them.
"I know... until you find out the truth about your mother, you won't take me back."
"Good. I'm glad we're on the same page."
"Then... can we still be friends?"
His voice was painfully cautious, testing the waters.
Melanie stayed silent for a moment before answering.
They could absolutely be business partners.
Preston reached out and gripped her hand.
Even through the thin, silky fabric of his white glove, the scorching heat of his palm seared right into her skin.
She had held this hand countless times before.
But this time, the rules had changed.
"Then here's to a prosperous partnership," Preston said, his sudden, icy professionalism catching her off guard.
She wasn't used to it.
But she had literally asked for it.
She was the one who said they were strictly business.
"To a prosperous partnership," Melanie echoed, matching his corporate tone.
The last time they came to this themed motel, they had tangled the sheets and left as fiercely passionate lovers.
This time, in the exact same room, they shook hands and walked out as nothing more than corporate allies.

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