Greyson gave the cab driver his address for home and leaned back in the seat, holding his forehead as he glared out the window. All four leads of Aiden’s were dead-ends. They were no closer to finding Belle’s family, and now, he was exhausted, pissed at Aiden and all her flirty antics, and ready to crash in his bed.

The cab pulled up outside his ranch and after he paid, he staggered up the drive. The Mustang was in the driveway, so Belle was home, and though he didn’t have any new answers on the whereabouts of her family, he couldn’t have spent another day without her. He needed to hold her in his arms and kiss her, carry her to his bed, and let her know how much he missed her over the past few days. Every time he woke, he'd had to deal with Aiden’s gaze on his groin and the erection he had from dreams of Belle.

What he didn’t expect to find when he walked in the door was Belle standing at the counter, staring straight ahead, her eyes narrowed and arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her face was pinched and worry filled him. Aiden… she did something, after all. The realization hit him, and he cursed quietly.

“Belle,” he called out, smiling, and approached her, but she immediately held up her hand to stop him. “You aren’t happy I’m home?”

“No, I’m thrilled,” she said stiffly but didn’t let him come any closer.

“You don’t sound like it,” he rumbled. “What happened while I was gone?”

She laughed bitterly and backed even further away. “Where do I start? First, you lie about wherever you were—and for future reference, Tim is a shitty liar so don’t ask him to do it for you again.”

Greyson tugged hard on his beard. “Belle, please—”

“No, don’t please me,” she snapped. “Then, I have to save your company when it all goes to shit and in the process, I miss my mid-term deadline, which means I just flunked one of my classes. That means, while I was busy saving your ass, I was screwing mine over! And then I find those pictures, and the phone calls, and who the hell were you with those four days, huh? Aiden, Lisa—maybe one of the other ones?”

Greyson shook his head, trying to follow and failing. “What pictures? You flunked a class?”

“The naked pictures I found of you and your girlfriends,” she yelled, throwing her hands in the air. When he opened his mouth to argue, she turned on her heel and stormed into his office. He followed, telling her to take a breath so they could figure all of this out, but she reached his desk and hit play on the answering machine.

One voice after another came over the machine, leaving messages saying how much each one missed Greyson and that Aiden told them all he was up for grabs. With each new one, Belle’s body grew more rigid and her eyes flared until he wondered how long it would take before she decked him again, or threw the damn machine at his face. He knew Aiden would try something, but he never thought she’d go this far. When the fifth started to play, he reached over and turned it off.

“I can explain everything,” he assured her calmly. “Why don’t we go sit down?”

“No, I want to know right now why all these women are calling you and who the hell Aiden is. Is she… is she who you were with? Is she the naked woman in the pictures?”

Greyson struggled to hold onto his control as he asked through his teeth, “What naked pictures are you talking about? I don’t have any naked pictures of anyone.”

Her eyes narrowed even more. “Right, then whose box of photos is in your dresser right now?”

“The dresser?” he repeated and frowned. “You looked through my stuff?” The ring, why couldn’t she have found the damn ring?! The naked pictures… shit, I thought I threw those out. “I forgot I had them, alright? I meant to get rid of them, and they just got shoved aside.”

“No, shoved aside would mean the basement or the attic, but they’re in your dresser!”

“Can you not make a big deal out of this? Jesus, I had a life before you, you know. My life didn’t start when you walked in my office!”

“You’re mad at me?!” she yelled back.

He stood toe to toe with her, matching her furious glare with one of his own. “Yeah, I am. What gave you the right to dig through my stuff! Those pictures are none of your business.”

“Is that right?” she asked, her voice frighteningly calm. “And the women who called you? Are they none of my business either? How many of them are you seeing on the side?” She glowered at him when she said, “How many were you with this weekend while I was fighting for your fucking company!” she roared, poking him in the chest hard with each word.

He caught her hand and held her to him. “None of them, alright?”

“Then where were you? And don’t you dare lie and say the warehouse.”

He sucked in a breath and blew it out, not willing to tell her the whole truth. He couldn’t. She’d hate him more than she did in that moment when she thought he cheated on her. If she knew he was hunting down her family, she’d be furious, and then he might lose her for good.

“I can’t tell you,” he said, and she cursed. “But you just have to trust me. I’m doing something, and soon, I should be able to show you.”

“No, not good enough, not when I have to listen to these harpies calling for you to sleep with them! All weekend… You trusted me to do my job, Greyson. I did it, but you… you lied to my face. That call you said was from your mom the other day? I know it wasn’t,” she said quietly, and his grip on her hand relaxed enough in his shock that she pulled away. “Are you trying to push me away?”

“What? No,” he argued and stepped towards her, but she moved back again. “Belle, wait.”

“No, I trusted you, I opened up to you. I’ve never done that with anyone else, and then you spit in my face,” she muttered, shaking her head. Confusion welled in the icy blue depths of her eyes, and she clutched a hand to her chest. “I know I’m not as pretty as they are, but if you were finished playing around with me, all you had to do was say so.”

She turned her back on him and strode out of his office, so fast he almost couldn’t keep up. When she snatched his keys off the counter and made for the door, he reached out to grab her, pulling her back.

“Wait—you are not going to walk out on me,” he growled.

“Let me go! I’ll get my stuff in the morning,” she snapped, but he wrapped his arms around her too tightly and she was trapped against his chest.

“You’re not going to leave until we talk,” he said.

“We did talk,” she argued, but she shook her head.

“No, you yelled at me. Why can’t you just trust me?”

“It's hard to do that when the lies build up around me all weekend long and I realize I’m about to lose the chance at my degree,” she yelled.

“I’ll call your professor. I’ll explain—”

“You can’t just make everything go away! You’re not God—damn it, Greyson, you have to sometimes just accept what happens! Like I am with you and all those girls!”

“I wasn’t with them. I was searching for your parents!”

Belle’s mouth dropped open, and she stared at him as he let her go gently and stepped away. “You… you were what?” she asked, breathless.

Greyson ran a hand through his hair, the other on his hip as he paced away. “I wanted to find your family, so I’ve been working with someone to track them down. We had some leads, and that’s where I was, flying all over the place looking for your parents, your family.”

For a second, he thought he’d been wrong all along and she was going to tell him she wanted to help, but her eyes filled with rage and she backed towards the door.

“I never asked you to do that for me,” she whispered. “I never asked you to get involved in my life!”

“Belle, don’t you dare walk out that door,” he growled, but she opened it and with one final glare, darted out and slammed it shut behind her. Greyson stared after her in disbelief until he heard the Mustang roar to life. “Damn it!”

She had the only keys to the Mustang, and by the time he raced out the door, she was down the driveway and peeling out onto the road. He yanked his cell from his pocket and tried to call her, but she didn’t pick up. After two more tries, he gave up and called a cab. He ran back to the house, locked it, and when the cab reached the curb and asked where to go, only one place came to mind.

The bar where he ran into her the first weekend. He rambled off the address to the cabbie and leaned back, his foot tapping the floorboards anxiously as he prayed that’s where she’d go. He texted Carrie just to be sure she hadn’t gone back to the dorms, but her friend said she hadn’t been by and hadn’t called. If she wasn’t there, he didn’t have any idea where else she would go. He told the cabbie to go faster as politely as possible, and eventually, they pulled alongside the curb. He paid the driver, leapt out of the cab, and glared up and down the sidewalk.

“Thank God,” he muttered when he spotted his Mustang parked farther down.

Belle wasn’t standing in line so he handed over a hundred-dollar bill to the bouncer and pushed his way inside, the music pounding against his eardrums. People shoved in on all sides of him and more than one drunk woman tried to snatch him to the side, but he pulled away from all of them, only having eyes for Belle. Lights flashed, and he reached the dance floor. Still no sign of her. He texted her again, hoping she’d at least let him know if she was actually there or not, but received no response.

He pushed his way to the bar, his eyes roving around the club, hoping to catch a glimpse of her somewhere. He sipped a whiskey and moved through the club again when he thought he heard a familiar voice above the crowd. His head whipped in that direction, and he spotted Belle being led to the dance floor by some guy who was clearly not him. His hand gripped the glass hard, but she wasn’t upset. She smiled as they started to dance, and Greyson walked along the edge of the dance floor, watching closely. Belle kept her distance from the guy as they danced, and from the look on her face, she’d already had a bit to drink since arriving. He’d have to stop her from driving off when she finally left.

Greyson turned down another girl asking him to dance, and she frowned when she followed his gaze to Belle. “You could go home with me you know,” she said brazenly.

Greyson shot her a fierce look. “I’m not interested.”

The woman flipped her hair angrily over her shoulder, and he watched her storm back over to a group by the bar. They stared from Greyson back to their friend and frowned, shooting him dirty looks. He ignored them and turned back to find Belle and the man she danced with as he took her hand and dragged her from the dance floor. She tried to pull her hand free and shook her head, though she kept smiling, but the guy leaned in. The second he kissed her, Greyson saw red. Enraged, he charged across the bar and slammed into the man, sending him staggering into the crowd nearby.

“Get the hell away from her,” he growled and planted himself in front of Belle.

“What are you doing here?” she snapped from behind him.

He didn’t turn around. The guy got to his feet and held up his fists. “What’s your problem, man? Go find your own date!”

“She is my date, you jackass, so stagger off,” Greyson warned, but the man was drunk, and with a curse, he swung his fist towards Greyson as he rushed forward.

He managed to get one solid punch in as Belle yelled at them both to stop, but he shoved her back as the man came after him again. Greyson ducked under the first hit and nailed two of his own. The music stopped abruptly, and a crowd gathered around them as a bartender threatened to call the cops, but Greyson didn’t stop. He hit the guy again, but the idiot grabbed a bar stool and wielded it over his head. Belle yelled and jumped in between them, and the guy stopped his downward swing right before he nailed her with it.

“Move!” Greyson yelled, and the second she was out of the way, lunged forward and tackled the guy to the floor, stool and all.

Belle grabbed his arm and dragged him away. “The cops are on their way, you idiot!”

“He was trying to kiss you!”

“I can handle myself,” she snapped, but she didn’t drag him towards the door.

“Where are we going?”

“There’s a cop car outside. We’re hiding,” she muttered and shoved him inside the single restroom, locking the door behind them. “You know, usually, when a woman storms out of the house, she wants a few hours alone.” She turned around, and Greyson leaned against the far wall, watching her.

“Usually, when you’re trying to do something nice for someone, they don’t run out of the house,” he replied stiffly.

She opened her mouth then closed it, shrugging. “I think I’m allowed to be mad.”

“And why is that?”

“You lied to me,” she said quietly, and his anger slipped slowly away. “You lied straight to my face. If you’d just told me the truth, told me what you wanted to do—”

“You wouldn’t have stormed off? Yeah, right,” he muttered.

She shoved her hands in her jeans’ pockets and hung her head. “I looked for them for years. You have to understand that. I looked, and I failed. The pain of realizing they just dumped me like I was worthless… I never wanted to feel that again. Ever.”

He hunched his shoulders guiltily and didn’t meet her gaze.

“Did you find anything about them?” she asked.

Greyson wished he could say he did, but shook his head. “Four leads and nothing to show for it.”

“Typical,” she said with a bitter laugh. “I’m not worth all this trouble.”

“The hell you aren’t,” he growled and stood before her, tilting her face up so he could meet her eyes. “I’m sorry I lied to you, but I care about you so much it scares the shit out of me most days. And I’m sorry you flunked a mid-term because of me. I’m sorry you found those old pictures, and I’m damn sorry those women listened to a bitter ex who’s trying to ruin my life. I’m so goddamn sorry, Belle.”

He lowered his forehead, holding it against hers. “I scare you?” she asked with a smile.

He nodded. “You have no idea how much. You did something to me the second I saw you, and your anger, your fire, drives me more insane than you could possibly know. You’re hardheaded, and a pain in my ass.”

When she smiled this time, her eyes lit up and he wanted to kick himself for letting her find those pictures, for letting Aiden get to her through him. It wasn’t fair to her, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt Belle. She reached up a hand and prodded his cheekbone gently until he winced.

“Nice bruise you got there,” she said and ran her fingers over it.

“I’d get a hundred more if it meant keeping you with me,” he growled, and before she had a chance to pull away and run, he captured her mouth with his.