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‘Kai,’ she said in shock. ‘What’s all of this?’

He turned sharply as she spoke and scowled. ‘Fuck. I was hoping you’d still be asleep. I wanted to surprise you.’ The scowl disappeared and an honest-to-God smile turned his mouth, lighting up his face in a way that made her heart clench. ‘But you’re here now. So, surprise, sunshine girl. Happy Christmas.’

At first all she could think was sunshine girl? Then she began to process the fact that there were decorations and presents beneath the tree, and that they hadn’t been there before, which meant that they must have come from somewhere. But where?

‘Where did you get all of this?’ she asked, shock still reverberating through her, along with a cold kernel of suspicion.

A rueful look crossed his face. ‘I had it all delivered this morning. I was hoping the chopper didn’t wake you.’

‘But…’ She wrapped her robe more tightly around herself. ‘I thought no one could get in because of the storms. I mean, that’s why I couldn’t leave, right?’

He made a dismissive gesture with one hand. ‘I was mistaken about the storms. Turns out the weather was fine after all.’

Her suspicion sharpened. He’d made a mistake with the weather? Really? The CEO of a huge company, who was gifted with numbers, had really made a mistake with a weather forecast? No, he hadn’t made a mistake, she knew all of a sudden. He’d lied to her.

‘You weren’t mistaken,’ she said, a sudden and strange hurt aching inside her.

The smile faded from his face. ‘Does it matter? You’re enjoying being here, aren’t you?’

She wasn’t sure why she felt hurt. He’d lied, yes, but it was a small lie. What she should really feel was anger, because that lie had kept her here and made her miss Christmas at Worthington.

‘What do you mean, does it matter?’ she said. ‘Of course it matters. I wanted to go back home to the—’

‘Did you?’ he interrupted, a fierce, icy light burning in his eyes. ‘Did you really want to go back to the home?’

Her anger built and she let it, taking a step forward. ‘Yes, I did. I have people who depend on me, Kai.’

‘But what about you?’ A muscle flicked in his jaw. ‘What about what you want?’

‘I’m not talking about what I want. It isn’t about me.’ She folded her arms over her furiously racing heart.

‘Isn’t it?’ His gaze searched her face. ‘What does it matter if you miss one Christmas? You had someone manage the home in your absence. You didn’t need to be there yourself, so what are you trying to prove?’

You’re trying to prove you’re worth it, that you’re enough.

A small electric shock pulsed down her spine, some part of her acknowledging the truth, but the rest of her didn’t and didn’t want to think about it, either, so she shoved it away. ‘I’m not trying to prove anything,’ she snapped. ‘This is about what you want. You wanted me to stay, and so you lied to make sure that I did.’

His expression hardened. ‘Yes, I did want you to stay. I’m not apologizing for that.’

‘You could have just asked me. You didn’t have to lie.’

‘Because you would have said no,’ he replied without hesitation. ‘I wanted an answer to my marriage proposal, and I thought you needed time to think about it. So I ensured that you had some time.’

The hurt tightened its grip on her. ‘This was all about the marriage proposal then? The marriage proposal where you used my love for Worthington as leverage to get what you wanted?’

The muscle in his hard jaw flicked again. ‘That’s what business is all about, Liberty. It’s all leverage. You use what you can in order to get a deal. Anyway—’ he made another dismissive gesture ‘—it’s not as if I’m not giving you a choice. You don’t have to marry me.’

She tried to hold on to her anger instead of letting the hurt overwhelm her. That everything they’d done and shared, his care and his tenderness, and his passion, that she thought had been for her, had really only been about getting what he wanted.

It was never about you.

Her throat closed and she swallowed. ‘But I have to choose between Worthington closing or marrying you, so what kind of choice is that?’

‘Not an easy one,’ he admitted. ‘But how else am I supposed to get you to marry me? I have to use something.’

She was staring at his hard, carved features when something became abruptly clear to her. This was what relationships were to him. They were transactional, like the business he kept referencing. Nothing came for free, everything cost, everything had a price. There was no emotion involved, no care, no tenderness. Yet he was capable of all those things—she’d experienced both in his arms after all.

‘So…all of this,’ she said, gesturing at the tree and the decorations and presents. ‘Everything we’ve done together… It was all so you could get me to agree to your proposal?’