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The Owner of His Heart (50 Loving States #1) Page 30
Author: Theodora Taylor

They were housed within a much grander foyer than the one near the door. This one was so large, it could easily have doubled for a ballroom. In fact, it probably would be where they’d throw the Sinclair Ball in less than two weeks. Nathan mentioned it would take place at his family home, but back then she hadn’t realized his brother lived there.

The stairs led to a landing, which she somehow knew led to a section of the house where Andrew and his parents had lived in large suites. Suddenly an image of her running across that landing flashed into her mind. Why? Was she running from someone? She couldn’t remember. Only the sensation of falling through the air as she realized she’d miscalculated. She saw herself rolling down the stairs, her body hitting the unforgiving marble steps with sick, hard thuds until everything mercifully faded to black.

“Ms. Matthews?” a voice said behind her.

Startled out of her memory, Layla turned to see Diana standing in the entrance of the receiving room with a large cup of tea in her hands.

Layla frowned. It had taken Andrew’s wife almost twenty minutes, just to make a cup of tea?

“Are you all right?” Diana asked, her brow furrowed.

Layla shook off the chilling memory of falling down the stairs and arranged her face into a pleasant smile. “Yes, I was just looking at your staircase. It’s really, um…nice.”

“Italian marble,” Diana said. “Andrew’s parents had it shipped in from Tuscany.”

“Yes, about Andrew,” Layla said. “Is he here? I know it’s not polite to show up unannounced like this, but I really need to talk to him.”

Diana’s lips thinned. “Are you having an affair with my husband?”

Layla’s eyes widened. “No! Oh, gosh, no. I didn’t even know he existed until I mistook Nathan for him.”

Diana’s eyes narrowed. “You said you used to date him.”

“I did. I think. I mean this woman I met at a fundraiser told me we dated for almost a year.” Now that Layla was explaining this out loud, she realized how crazy she must sound. “You see I had an accident, and I went into a coma, and I lost almost the entire year leading up to it. Nathan, Andrew—I don’t remember them or anything that happened during the time I apparently dated Andrew. That’s why I came back to Pittsburgh, to find out what happened that year. And that’s the only reason I’m looking for Andrew right now. He’s the only one who can give me the answers I need.”

Diana set the tea mug down on a nearby end table. “Well, isn’t this ironic, then, because I also have a few questions for Andrew, but unfortunately he’s disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” Layla said. “Since when?”

“Since the beginning of the summer. Supposedly he’s called Nathan to check in, but I haven’t seen him myself in almost three months.”

Diana rubbed her wrist. It obviously agitated her to have to say this out loud.

“I’m sorry,” Layla said.

Diana gave her a sharp look. “We were high school sweethearts, you know. When we met, he was a senior and I was freshman. Then he went to Carnegie Mellon, and we continued to date. I was very in love with him, our families got along, and I was sure we’d get married. I even applied for early admission to Chatham, a local all-women’s college, so I could stay near him. But then the night before my first day of college, he broke up with me. He said he didn’t think it was right we had only ever dated each other and he wanted to explore other options.”

She looked Layla up and down with frank disapproval. “I’d heard he started dating some freshman at his school soon after that. I’m guessing that was you. How long were you two together?”

Layla bit her lip. “I guess it was me, but I’m not sure how long we were together. Jessica thinks the entire school year. But I fell late that spring and there was some confusion after the accident. Then I moved to another state.”

Diana’s mouth twisted into a bitter smile. “He called me early that summer. I thought he had finally come to see reason, that we were meant to be together, but I guess, he called because you were no longer available.”

Layla really didn’t want that to be true. “I’m sure he loved you. And he probably still does,” she said. “Maybe he’s just going through a mid-life crisis. Maybe— ”

The doorbell rang, and Diana turned to look toward it. “Excuse me,” she said. “Our house staff is off on Mondays.”

Layla waited in the receiving room, kicking herself. Not only had she gotten exactly zero of the answers she’d come for, but she’d also upset Andrew’s wife. She could kill Nathan for having put her in this position.

But then as if conjured by her murderous thoughts of him, he came striding into receiving room, his face a thunder cloud of dark fury.

And Layla realized the woman she had just been feeling so sorry for had not only ratted her out to Nathan, but had also deliberately stalled her with tea to keep her there.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

NATHAN hadn’t been sure what he would do when he got to the Sinclair mansion. Wringing Layla’s neck came to mind, so did physically removing her from the state, so she would never be able to make him feel this way again. He was sick of waiting for the betrayal. He knew if his brother so much as saw Layla, who was and had always been the complete opposite of the woman he was now planning to divorce, he’d fall back in love with her. And once he found out Layla hadn’t had anything to do with her father’s blackmailing scheme, it would all be over. Layla, for her part, would only see Andrew as everything Nathan wasn’t—nice, ethical, and almost as considerate as she was. They’d be the “perfect couple” again, leaving Nathan to fester in a pool of jealousy and rage.

No, she needed to leave Pittsburgh before Andrew returned to initiate his divorce. She’d leave that very night if it were up to him. But when he walked in to the receiving room and found her standing there, not even in her scrubs, which she must have changed out of as soon as she cleared the apartment, his mind went red.

He stalked over to her. “What are you doing here?” he asked, grabbing her by her upper arms.

She yanked one arm free and used it slap him, so hard the resounding crack of her hand hitting his face split the air. “No, you don’t get to be mad,” she said to him. “You deliberately misled to me. You used me, and the only reason you’re angry is because I found out.”

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Theodora Taylor's Novels
» Her Russian Surrender (50 Loving States #10)
» His One and Only (50 Loving States #6)
» Her Perfect Gift (50 Loving States #5)
» Her Viking Wolf (50 Loving States #3)
» Her Russian Billionaire (50 Loving States #2)
» The Owner of His Heart (50 Loving States #1)