44

“You started the role-playing, Peter,” she reminded him.”Offering to be my prince. And I let myself be sucked into it because I really did think you might be.”

A muscle in his cheek contracted. His eyes blazed with fierce resentment.”You knew what you were getting, Erin. I didn’t bypass any important facts about me.”

“Who really knows anybody?” she muttered derisively.

There were always—always—things hidden—things that came out to bite you when some emotional trigger was hit. She’d been subjected to this kind of angry man pride before and knew there was no fixing it, short of giving up writing and becoming a satellite to his interests. Erin gritted her teeth. Not even for this man would she give up her essential self.

She turned aside to gather up her clothes, and the David Jones bag that held what she’d worn on Friday night. Better to make her exit in the latter outfit, since yesterday’s made her too recognisable to anyone who’d seen the newspaper photograph. Which reminded her of th