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Chapter 8

A flash of anger stroked through Emma’s heart as she listened to him. She tried to pull her hand back from him but he refused to let go of her.

“You say I’m smart, but then you insult my intelligence in the next breath,” she sneered. “I know I’m not your type. Don’t lie to me to try and make me feel better.”

“How do you know my type?” he asked livid that she thought she knew him better than himself.

“I see you and the women you date on TV and in magazines and on blogs. You only date blonde white models. I am the exact opposite of your type, short, fat, and a brunette with brown skin.”

“I thought you were smart enough to know not to believe everything you see and hear in the media,” he growled.

“So you never dated those models?”

“I did, but not because I was attracted to them beyond a fleeting lust.”

“So you slept with all of them?”

“Yes. But I was never intimate with any of them.”

“Why not?” she asked, her anger dissipating. “Did they not mean anything to you?”

“No. They were dates my publicist and manager set up for me. For PR. I slept with the ones who wanted to fuck but none of them wanted anything from me except my money and my fame.”

“That’s … sad.”

Now his anger seemed to deflate too. They both sat there quiet for several minutes.

“Emma,” Chris finally broke the silence. “I feel something powerful for you. I don’t know what it is. I’ve never had this feeling before with any woman. I do know it is more than lust.”

Her eyes met his. She was unsure of what to say. Her heart went out to him. Despite all his fame and fortune, he was lonely. She knew that feeling. What he felt for her wasn’t anything worth investing in. Her week there would be over quickly enough and he would forget her as soon as he dropped her off at the airport.

She couldn’t explain his feelings for her but she knew they meant nothing. No man had ever desired her since she was eight years old. She was fine with that. Her heart hurt enough from her parents’ betrayal. Getting involved in a relationship, sexual or otherwise, would be stupid. Even the Carringtons she held at a distance only allowing them inside her walls for short periods of time.

There was no way she was letting this incredible man into her heart. He could hurt her worse than perhaps even her parents had because she should know better by now.

“Chris you’re my brother,” she began evenly. “Even though we don’t know each other, I would like to get to know you better. You might not find me good enough to be someone you can be in a relationship with, but I’m willing to try. I want a family to belong to. I don’t deserve one but I’ve been given a chance at having one. I’d like you to be a part of my family.”

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