Her blue eyes snapped with frustration as she refused to surrender. Her damp hair tickled his face, its sweet fragrance surrounding him. For a moment he contemplated giving up the piece and taking her soft, sweet-smelling body in his arms.

“I’m sorry, Countess,” he said coolly, meeting her infuriated blue gaze. “I can’t give you the last piece until you answer one last thing.” His voice was quiet, his grasp unyielding. “I want to know what happened with the scholarship.”

…

Tessa gasped. She was hovering over him, pillows askew, one hand on his shoulder and the other clamped around his as they fought for the last piece.

And she was trembling. From being near him and from the truth that hovered on her lips.

She’d been okay keeping all of this to herself for so many years. She’d lived with the consequences of her choices, even as they’d eaten her up on the inside.

“That’s ancient history,” she said as calmly as possible. It was in the past, over and done.

“I want to know the truth,” he said quietly.

“There’s nothing to tell.” She forced herself to meet his gaze. “We were neck and neck, and you won.”

“I don’t think that’s the whole story,” he said.

She bit down on her lip to stop from tearing up. “Who told you?” But she already knew the answer.

Her suspicious, troublemaking sister who could never leave well enough alone. Well, both her sisters would qualify for that distinction, but she suspected the culprit was their very recent house guest.

“Juliet loves you,” Leo said. “She wants to be the one to look out for you. I can’t fault her for that. It’s about time someone took care of you for once.”

That made her tear up for real. She pushed up to get space, to sit upright on the couch, but Leo was right there next to her, waiting for the truth.

She wanted to look away. Away from his beautiful brown eyes. Away from his strong jaw and thick wavy hair and the knowing gaze that seemed to see right through her.

“Just tell me.” His voice was practically a whisper. She wondered how many women that deep, gravelly voice had caused to spill all their secrets. “I was part of this, too. I need to know.”

She looked at his handsome face. It was predatory. Waiting. But he wasn’t really a predator, was he? He’d been aggressive about this fake-marriage scheme, but he hadn’t ever forced her into anything; she’d agreed on her own. And he’d done it because he loved his family. He cared about his sister. He’d been kind to her mother and grandmother—and her sister. He was making her a gorgeous kitchen island, for goodness’ sake, to get her out of that bakery.

At every turn, his actions broke down all her assumptions.