"No need. I'm leaving," Elodie said, her patience worn thin. She had no interest in sticking around and being a third wheel.

But as she turned to go, a warm hand closed firmly around her wrist. Jarrod's gaze was cool, almost indifferent. "You stay. I'll switch rooms."

Elodie frowned, about to wrench free, but Jarrod released her first, deliberately widening the distance between them. "If you leave now, it'll be hard to explain things to my grandmother."

So that's what this was about. Elodie stared at him, incredulous. "You want me to cover for you with Sylvie? Make it easier to lie to your grandmother?"

What exactly did he take her for?

Jarrod met her eyes, adjusting his cufflinks with practiced calm. "If you hadn't come, none of this trouble would've happened."

A tight knot formed in Elodie's chest. So it was her fault, then?

Pressing her lips together, she forced herself to stay composed. "Fine. But you approve my resignation-immediately."

Jarrod's dark eyes narrowed slightly, a faint, ambiguous smirk touching his lips. "That's acceptable."

Elodie couldn't make sense of that smile.

She turned and walked straight back to her room.

No wonder Jarrod hadn't told her about coming to Mount Serene he'd brought Sylvie here for a romantic getaway. If she'd known, she never would have come.

shake off the annoyance. She

checking out the guesthouse's amenities. There was a riding stable, and guests could go horseback riding with a guide. It sounded

straight for

heard a woman's playful voice, "Ivan! Stop nudging me! Are you trying to be fresh

reply drifted over. "Blame the horse, not

in

her waist, one hand holding

darkening, a

stung. For over a decade, Ivan had protected her, treated her as someone precious, never once saying a harsh word. He'd been her first love, the

when Ivan got into trouble, she'd agreed to marry Jarrod in exchange for Malcom's promise to reduce Ivan's sentence. Even if she'd moved on, Ivan was still

won his heart. And Ivan—he'd loved

soured into nothing? Had

turned to leave quietly,

for lunch? My friend Sylvie and her boyfriend

surprised. So Queenie knew Sylvie? That

knew all about her disastrous marriage

seemed to care about her, Jarrod's wife,

replied, her mood plummeting as she

her, then nudged Ivan. "Your sister doesn't look well. Is she

a grown woman. She'll survive. No need

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