Tired of me, Mr. Taylor?

Serena was still catching her breath when Damian left the bed.

She watched him cross the bedroom, completely unashamed of her nakedness beneath the sheet pooled around her hips. “That good, huh?” she murmured. “You’re leaving the scene of the crime?”

Damian picked up his trousers without answering.

Serena smiled lazily and stretched beneath the sheets. “At least tell me where you’re going. I need to know whether I’m supposed to be offended.”

He stepped into his trousers and pulled them over his hips, still offering her nothing, and the smile on Serena’s face softened as she finally noticed that something about him was wrong.

“Damian?”

He fastened his trousers before looking at her.

“I’ve grown tired of you, Serena.”

For a moment, Serena kept smiling because she wasn’t certain she had heard him correctly.

“Let’s end this.”

Her smile slipped. “What?”

“I’m getting married soon.”

He said it without hesitation or apology, then reached for his shirt while Serena stared at him from the bed.

“She’s not like you. She wouldn’t understand an arrangement like this, and I don’t intend for it to become a problem later.”

Damian slid one arm into his shirt and then the other.

“I won’t risk tainting her innocence if any of this ever comes out. She deserves better than that.”

Serena felt something inside her go perfectly still. Nothing broke, at least not yet, but the warmth that had been in her body less than a minute ago seemed to vanish as she watched Damian begin buttoning his shirt.

She had been teasing this man moments ago. Now he was getting married, and Serena Ellis was evidently the stain he needed removed before he did.

Her lips curved again, the smile smaller than before but effortless enough to pass.

“I see.”

Damian’s fingers faltered on the next button so slightly that Serena would have missed it if she had blinked. She didn’t. His gaze lifted to hers, but whatever had crossed his face disappeared almost immediately.

Serena pushed the sheet away and got out of bed without rushing because, absurdly, that seemed important. She would not scramble for her clothes or clutch the sheet around herself as though she suddenly had something to be ashamed of.

Damian had seen every inch of her and touched every inch of her. If he had decided she fell beneath the standards required of his future wife, that was his problem.

Serena crossed the bedroom naked, picked up her underwear from the floor and refused to look at him because there was nothing left to ask. Her dress lay half beneath the chaise, so she pulled it free, gathered everything in one hand and walked into the bathroom.

After closing and locking the door, Serena kept her hand on the lock while she stared at herself in the mirror.

Her hair was a mess, her lipstick was nearly gone and her cheeks were still flushed. She looked thoroughly, unmistakably like a woman who had just been in a man’s bed, which made Damian’s words about another woman’s innocence almost funny.

Almost.

I’ve grown tired of you.

Serena swallowed and forced the words from her mind. Whatever happened after she left this penthouse was her problem, but she wasn’t doing this here.

She dressed quickly, pulling on her underwear and bra before stepping into her dress. The zipper caught halfway up, and she yanked it harder than necessary until it finally moved.

“Come on.”

When it gave, she exhaled and turned toward the mirror again. She fixed her hair, found her lipstick and reapplied it with a hand that remained remarkably steady.

That was good.

Damian Taylor would get nothing from her tonight. He would not get tears, questions or the humiliation of hearing her ask why she hadn’t been good enough.

Serena pressed her lips together once, checked her reflection and unlocked the door.

Damian was waiting in the bedroom, fully dressed except for his jacket, and his gaze followed her as she crossed to the nightstand for her earrings. Serena put them on, collected her phone and purse, then slipped into her first heel without acknowledging him.

“My attorney will send over the termination agreement in the morning,” Damian said.

Serena fastened the strap around her ankle.

“You’ll sign it.”

She moved to the other heel, refusing to give him the satisfaction of treating an order like a question.

“The agreement will confirm that the arrangement has ended by mutual consent and that neither party has any further obligations beyond the existing confidentiality provisions. You’ll be paid everything you’re owed for the remaining three months.”

Serena stood and smoothed her dress over her hips before reaching for her purse.

“And an additional thirty million.”

That made her look at him.

Damian’s expression remained unreadable while Serena absorbed the number. Thirty million dollars was enough to make almost anyone ask him to repeat himself, but she kept the question behind her teeth and waited for whatever condition inevitably accompanied it.

“I want you out of my sight,” Damian said. “No calls. No attempts to see me. No conveniently crossing paths after the engagement is announced. I want you out of my life completely.”

The cruelty of it was almost impressive. He had already told her that he was tired of her, that he was marrying someone better suited to his life and that Serena represented something capable of tainting his future wife. Apparently, Damian wanted to make certain there was no possible interpretation in which Serena could leave with a scrap of hope.

She slipped her phone into her purse. “All right.”

Damian stared at her as though the answer had not been the one he expected.

Serena checked the chair for anything she needed. There were plenty of her things elsewhere in the penthouse, accumulated gradually over nearly a year of nights spent here, but she had no intention of wandering through his rooms collecting them while he watched.

She put the strap of her purse over her shoulder.

“You’ll have the termination documents tomorrow,” Damian said.

“I’ll have my attorney look at them.”

There was a slight pause before he answered. “Fine.”

Serena nodded. “Anything else?”

His jaw tightened. “No.”

“Good.”

She walked toward the door, and somehow every step felt normal. Her heels sounded exactly the same against his floor, the city continued glittering beyond the windows and the room still carried the faint scent of Damian’s cologne.

Nothing around her had changed, although Serena knew with terrible certainty that everything had.

She reached the door and closed her hand around the handle.

“Serena.”

Her body betrayed her before pride could intervene.

She stopped and looked back.

Damian remained where she had left him, watching her with an expression she could no longer bring herself to decipher. For one stupid, dangerous moment, Serena waited for him to say something that might explain why he had stopped her.

He said nothing.

Perhaps he had only wanted to know whether she would turn around when he called her name. She had, and that irritated Serena more than anything else he had done in the last few minutes.

Her smile returned, and this time it came easily.

“Well, it was fun.”

Something shifted in Damian’s face, but Serena had already given him more of herself tonight than he deserved, and she had no intention of staying long enough to understand it.

“Congratulations on the engagement.”

Then Serena walked out and closed the door behind her without looking back.