She headed into The Dollhouse a little early to stretch before opening.

Even better, she heard Nash’s voice coming from William’s office and she moved toward it, happy that he’d returned a few days early.

“I know what Lara says, William. She’s got a point…”

“Don’t be stupid. Dahlia’s got no family name. I can see the appeal, she’s a hot number. You fuck a girl like that. You buy her some expensive gifts, enjoy the hell out of her body for a while and you move on.

“You’ve been seen all over town with this girl for months now. It’s time to remember who and what you come from. Dahlia isn’t one of us. She can’t fit into our life. And you shouldn’t want her to. She’s not made for it. Can you imagine what Mother would do if you brought her home? You can’t. You bring home a woman like Lara Warner.”

Dahlia held her stomach, nausea holding her hostage as her world crashed around her head.

“Hey, Dahlia! Nice to see you tonight,” one of the bouncers called to her as he walked in the front doors.

The discussion in William’s office halted and she pushed the door open to see both brothers looking toward her guiltily.

Nash started to speak but she held up her hand as she stalked to William’s desk.

Rage warred with shame as she took a long look at her former boss. “You can go fuck yourself, you goddamn snob. I quit.” With that she turned on her heel and ran past Nash, shoving at him as he tried to grab her.

She heard him shouting her name moments later, but she ran to her car and drove the hell away from The Liege and the man she thought loved her.

Smacking the steering wheel with her hand she gnashed her teeth. Who the hell did Nash think he was, anyway? Lara had a point? She’d fallen prey to his charms and forgotten herself. That she’d actually thought he loved her made her feel like an utter fool, but, damn it, what made him and that prick brother of his better than her? She worked hard! Made her own way in the world.

Her phone rang. She tossed it down when she saw it was him.

Finally arriving home, she’d started to pull into the lot but saw Nash’s GTO. Reversing her car, she headed to Roseanne’s.

Roseanne took one look at her face and pulled her into the apartment and gave her a hug. “Honey, what is it?”

Her phone rang so many times she turned it off and told Roseanne the whole story.

Roseanne made a face. “What the fuck? I don’t understand. Look, Dahlia, I don’t know a lot of things but I do know Nash Emery is in love with you. William is an asshole, yes. But Nash? Honey, his face lights up every time you walk into a room. I don’t buy the idea of some secret hate about your lack of a pedigree.”

The tears came then, and Roseanne held her tight until they passed. “Oh, God, I’m in love with him. He always avoided talking about taking me to meet his mother. He’s ashamed of me. He’d say he wished I could come with him to London or Milan but never, ever that he wished his mother could meet me. I should have listened to my inner voice about it.”

“Sweetie, I think you should let him explain. If it’s not what you want to hear, what have you lost? But what if you misunderstood? You said you only heard William talking. Are you going to write this off so easily?”

“I don’t know what to do!” True, it had been just William. But what about that comment about Lara’s being right? And what about his being ashamed of her? The possibilities struck her frozen, unable to think about anything.

“What do you have to lose?”

“My heart. My dignity.”

“Girl, you already lost your heart and what the fuck is dignity when you’re sleeping on a garage-sale couch in my living room when a man like Nash just might truly love you?” Roseanne rolled her eyes. “I’m going to work. If you want to stay, the bed in my spare room is made up. I love you no matter what.”

Roseanne walked out and Dahlia put her head in her hands.

* * *

Nash had thought of nothing but Dahlia the whole plane trip back from New York. It was high time his family accepted that he was in love and with this woman for good. He also wanted to push through the last of Dahlia’s emotional walls and tell her he loved her straight out. He’d shown her, he’d said it in a hundred other ways but he wanted to tell her.

Knowing his mother would be the biggest battle, he decided to go to William first. He’d dropped his bags off at home and gone to The Dollhouse.

When he’d confessed the depth of his feelings for Dahlia, William’s attitude had gone from amusement to concern that Nash may have been the target of a gold digger. He hadn’t had any real idea of just who Dahlia was. Part of that was Nash’s fault for not having her around William more socially so he could get to know her better.

Worse, Lara Warner had been talking shit around town. Though she did have a point. Nash did have a responsibility to his station in life—a responsibility to make it one-hundred-percent clear that he was with Dahlia Baker. Not as a fling. Not as a pretty bit on the side. But for good.

He’d been on the verge of interrupting his brother to reiterate just how deeply he felt for Dahlia, to tell William why he trusted her, when they’d heard Dahlia’s name being called. Time had slowed as he’d turned to see her standing there in the hallway.

Nash would never in a million years forget the look on her face as she’d stood there, obviously hurt and humiliated. He’d jumped up to explain, but her hand had flown up, cutting him off, and she’d stalked in, told William off and stormed out.

He’d been so stunned by the whole thing, that lapse of time had given her a head start. He stood there, watching her taillights, his stomach sinking. Grabbing his phone, he called hers and got voice mail as he got into his car and raced toward her place. Arriving first, he thanked his forethought to take the back way.

Using his charm and a hundred-dollar bill, he managed to convince the manager to let him inside her apartment. Nash had been there often enough that the guy knew him by sight.

And then he waited.

After her mailbox filled up he called William and chewed him a new one.

“I didn’t know she was standing there!” At least his brother sounded guilty.

“William, how can you work with these women and think about them the way you do? She’s a good person. Do you know I have to talk her into taking presents from me? She could have worked me for tens of thousands of dollars by now, but she goes out of her way to pay every bit she can. I love her. I mean to be with her and if I can get her to take me back after this mess, I’m asking her to move in with me and marry me by the end of the year.”

“I think she’s out of your comfort zone, Nash. I think being with a woman like Dahlia is going to be a big test for you.”

“A test? What the hell are you talking about? We’ve been together for six months. It’s not like I’m nineteen years old and I met her yesterday.”

“You’re going to bring her to social functions and she’ll be uncomfortable. Your friends and family will be uncomfortable because she’s not one of us. It’ll eat away at both of you.”

“This isn’t about you and Leah, William. Or is it? Is that why the two of you broke it off?” Leah had been William’s fiancée of two years. They’d broken off the engagement suddenly, and William had refused to talk about it. Nash began to wonder just how much of William’s feelings about Dahlia, about women in general, had to do with Leah.

“Not your business at all. When it comes down to it, Nash, you can’t trust this woman because you have something she doesn’t. Money.”

“This is about Leah, isn’t it? Was Leah a gold digger?”

“We’re done with this subject. If you love Dahlia, fine. That’s enough for me, but I want you to remember this is not going to be a bed of roses. It’s easy for you to downplay the class thing, but she’s the one who has to suffer for it.”