Billionaire Romance Boxed Set (9 Book Bundle) (71 page)

He was struggling to find the
right words. “It’s like what we talked about before,” I said.
“About not letting things get too personal.”

He shot me a tired smile.
“But that’s not really possible, is it? I think we’re both learning
that.”

“Hey, I believe in us.”
I laid my hand on his shoulder, and felt his muscles tense under my hand. The
gesture surprised even me, but at the same time, it felt right. “Here’s to
being as impersonal and robotic as possible while we pretend to be madly in
love.”

Daniel chuckled, and I pulled my
hand away, slowly.

“I’m sure we can come out of
this intact,” I said. “We probably won’t kill each other. Hey, maybe
we’ll even stay friends.”

I hadn’t meant for that to come
out sounding so sincere. He looked away, a smile playing on his lips. “Why
on earth would you want to be friends with me?” The question was addressed
more to himself than it was to me, but I couldn’t ignore it.

“What’s that supposed to
mean?” I prodded, jostling against him gently with my shoulder. I wasn’t
normally this into physical contact with near-strangers, but at this point I
figured I might as well get used to touching him.

He was still looking at the
carpet. “Maddy, if you ever need a favor, of course I’ll help you. I don’t
expect a phone call on my birthday in exchange for that.”

I didn’t know what to say. This
wasn’t a side of him I’d ever expected to see. No wonder he’d been so bothered
by what I’d said down in the living room. There was actually a part of him that
thought his bank account was his only asset as a person.

“Don’t be ridiculous,”
was what I finally managed to say. Not ideal, but it would have to do.

Suddenly, I was acutely aware of
the electricity crackling in the space between us. We were sitting on a bed. It
would be easy - so easy - to just lean over to him press my lips against his,
and I was almost sure he wouldn’t resist me. I could have what I wanted, if I
could only find the courage to take it.

But what if he did resist?

What if he pushed back, saying
no, no, Maddy, I don’t think this is a good idea. Because it wasn’t. But a part
of me would always believe it was because I wasn’t good enough for him. My ego
was a fragile thing. I couldn’t risk it.

But what if he didn’t?

I could press him down into the
fluffy, ridiculously luxurious bedclothes, and that’s when he would resist, but
not because he didn’t want me. No, he liked to be in charge. About that, I was
certain. He’d flip me over and hold me down by my wrists, growling in my ear,
but when he loomed over me I’d see the wicked smile on his face. He’d kiss me
until he forgot he was trying to restrain my arms and he’d let go then, his
hands wandering all over my body, sliding under the light fabric of my blouse
and pushing it up past my breasts. I’d lift my arms for him then, obediently,
feeling the urgent twitch of him against my thigh. He’d pull the blouse over my
head and toss it aside. I would bite my lip. My nipples would be so stiff he’d
be able to tell how much I wanted him, even through the fabric of my bra. His
lips would travel down my neck, his hot breaths sending little shivers down my
expanse of bare skin…

I came back to reality with a
start. I was staring at him, my mouth hanging open slightly. Luckily he didn’t
seem to be paying attention. Oh, my God. I had to stop doing this. I was going
to drive myself crazy. I swallowed with difficulty; my throat had gone
completely dry, and my heartbeat seemed to have relocated itself to somewhere
between my legs.

I felt fuzzy and lightheaded,
just like last night, but without the wine. Clearly, I didn’t need alcohol to
go completely stupid for Daniel.

He spoke, finally, still not
looking at me. “Did you want to go home?”

“Yes,” I managed. I
stood up quickly, walking hurriedly down the stairs and gathering up my dress
and jewelry. Daniel came down a few minutes later.

“The car will be waiting for
you at the curb, whenever you’re ready,” he said. “No rush.”

“Thanks for breakfast,”
I said, unable to look him in the eye for more than a few seconds. “And
for last night.”

“Of course,” he said.
“I’ll…I’ll call you.” He looked almost as distracted as I felt. I
gave him a little half-wave and hurried towards the door.

“Maddy, wait a minute.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a shiny key, looking like it was
fresh from the locksmith. “I had this made for you.”

“Okay,” I said, walking
back to him with leaden feet and taking it.

“Trust me,” he said.
“It’ll look odd if you don’t have it. You’d better get used to carrying it
now.”

The ride home seemed to take
ages. I answered the driver’s questions perfunctorily; yes, the date was very
nice, yes, the food was excellent. Yes, the Inn had a lovely atmosphere. Yes,
Mr. Thorne’s apartment was gorgeous.

Just being back at home was a
relief in and of itself, but I didn’t truly relax until after I’d stripped out
of the unfamiliar clothes and spent a little quality time with my removable
massaging shower head. It was one of the few luxuries I allowed myself in life,
and once I was finally sated, leaning against the shower wall with cheeks
flushed and my legs turned to jelly, I prayed it would act as a sort of
exorcism for my inconvenient desires. I’d been afraid to give in, even in this
small way, but after this morning it was clear there was no turning back.

Once I was dried off and wearing
my own clothes again, I spread the dress out on my bed and smoothed the
wrinkles. It would probably need to be dry-cleaned. I laid the necklace and
earrings next to it, straightening each little strand until they looked ready
for a photo shoot.

They were beautiful things, to be
sure, but they still didn’t feel like mine. I wasn’t sure I could ever truly
immerse myself in a lifestyle where buying things like this was commonplace. It
was so incredibly strange to me. The idea of money being some constantly
renewable resource; technically finite, but the idea of spending all of it was
incomprehensible. You’d have to buy a fleet of space shuttles, or an actual
planet, to even begin spending it all.

I had to smile a little to myself
at the idea of Daniel going to NASA and picking out shuttles as casually as if
he were in a grocery store.

It was strange, though. For
someone who’d been rich for as long as he had, he didn’t seem to wear it too
comfortably. It was rather curious, wasn’t it?

But I couldn’t worry about that
now. Now, I had to focus on how on earth I was going to survive living with the
24/7 temptation that would be life with Daniel.

Chapter Six

It became normal for me and
Daniel to eat lunch together at work. It reached the point where he no longer
had to call me; I’d habitually get up and walk to his office every day at
eleven-thirty, and a subtly scowling Alice would take our orders. He must have
eaten at every place in a ten-mile radius. He always had recommendations, and
they were always good. Before long, he would greet me with a kiss on the cheek,
right in front of Alice. I could practically feel her trying to strangle me
with her mind. Oddly enough, all I felt was triumph.

“You know,” I said to
him one day, over a plate of falafel and shawarma, “all the women in the
office absolutely hate me now.” He looked up. “And some of the
men.”

He just laughed. “Well,
that’s not very charitable of them.”

“I can’t wait for the
reactions once we get…engaged.” I still had a hard time spitting the word
out. “I’m going to need a police escort just to get to the copy
machine.”

“Eye daggers aren’t actually
deadly, you know.” He tore off a piece of pita bread and dipped it into a
little pool of hummus. “No matter how sharp.”

“I guess.”

“Are you going to tell your
parents?”

There it was. I’d kept pushing
that question to the back of my mind, but I was going to have to confront it
eventually. “I’m not sure,” I admitted, pushing some lettuce around
on my plate. “We haven’t really talked in a while. If I just call them out
of the blue, and tell them I’m engaged…”

“They’ll find out
eventually, won’t they? One way or another. Isn’t it best that they hear it
from you directly?”

He was right. The contract did
stipulate that I had to change my relationship status on any social networking
sites - which was only reasonable - and I was online “friends” with quite
a few people who knew my parents. There was no chance I’d be able to skate by
on that one.

Truth was, I’d kept most of my
relationships secret from my parents. They were so probing and critical of most
things I did, and I never wanted to go through all the hassle of trying to
introduce them to someone, only to turn around later and inform them that we’d
broken up. “But why? What happened? What did you do? Did you say something
that scared him off? Maybe if you lost a few pounds…I mean, you’re an attractive
girl, but competition is fierce out there…”

I shuddered a little. The idea of
telling them I was going to marry a billionaire only to tell them in a year
that we were getting divorced…it was horrifying. But I had no choice, if I
wanted to through with this. Surely two million dollars was worth enduring a
few awkward phone calls.

We ate the rest of our lunch in
silence that day. Daniel was aware he’d touched on a nerve, and he didn’t bring
the subject up again.

Late Friday afternoon, he came by
my cubicle just as I was packing up my things. Thankfully, Florence had already
cut out for the day.

“I’d like to take you to
dinner tonight,” he said, and there was something very meaningful in his
eyes. Oh, God. This was it, wasn’t it? He was going to propose to me. In
public, I was sure. He had to make a spectacle of it.

“Okay,” I said, my
heart already fluttering in my chest.

“Be ready at seven
o’clock.”

The midnight blue dress was still
in its plastic bag from the cleaner’s, hanging in the back of my closet. I
hadn’t expected to need it again so soon. I pulled it out when I got home,
quickly showered and dried my hair, and zipped myself up in it. It still looked
fantastic, even when paired with a haunted, thousand-yard stare.

I wasn’t ready for this. But I
didn’t exactly have a choice.

I clasped the necklace on and
slipped in the earrings, pondering what I should do with my hair. Simply
leaving it down didn’t seem to befit the occasion, but it was stubborn. If I
tried to put it up in something, I’d be fighting with it all night. The
downside to naturally thick, glossy hair was that it was improbably heavy and
slippery. I’d yet to meet a band or clip that could hold it, and I hated
hairspray with a fiery passion.

Nothing for it, then. I brushed
it thoroughly and let it fall around my shoulders, hoping I wouldn’t look
horribly out of place in whatever insanely expensive restaurant he was taking
me to.

The driver was punctual as
always, and this time, I was surprised to see Daniel already in the back seat
waiting for me.

“Hello, Maddy,” he
said, looking at me approvingly. It had to be put on. No real date of his would
wear the same dress more than once. But he hadn’t said a word about it, so I
tried not to worry.

“I’m sorry,” I
muttered, as I settled into the seat next to him. “This is the only fancy
thing I have.”

“Don’t worry,” he said.
“You still look as stunning as ever.”

I rolled my eyes.

The driver was watching us and
chuckling to himself.

“She can’t take a complement
gracefully, this one,” said Daniel. “It’s tragic.”

“Well, you’ll just have to
work on that, sir.”

“I will, John. Don’t you
worry.”

I sank deeper into the Italian
leather and tried not to look miserable.

“What’s the matter,
darling?” Daniel said, finally, squeezing my shoulder gently.

“I don’t know,” I said.
“I guess I’m just tired.”

“Well, you’ll forget all
about it when we get where we’re going.”

There was something different in
the tone of his voice, now that he was talking to me in front of John.
Something a little…distant, maybe. Aloof? Uncaring, even. I was beginning to
put the pieces together - how he must live large portions of his life, or maybe
all of his life, striving to fulfill the expectations that were placed on him.

Poor little rich boy. I smirked
at myself. Was I really trying to feel sorry for him? The man who could buy a
space shuttle?

Man, I was really getting fixated
on those shuttles. Maybe it was the summer moon shining so brightly every night
that had me dwelling on space travel.

“Did you ever want to go to
the moon when you were a kid?” I blurted out, sitting up straighter and
looking at him.

His face broke into a smile - a
genuine one. “What?”

“It’s a simple question. Did
you ever want to go to the moon?”

He shrugged. “It’s just a
rock. A giant rock out in the middle of nothing. What’s to see?”

“Yeah, you know that now.
But when you were a kid. Didn’t you ever look at it, and marvel at how close it
was, and think man, I’d really like to go there. It looks like it’s so close,
like you could just jump in the car and drive there in a few minutes.” I
looked out of the window; it was waxing, big and round, glowing just above the
tallest buildings. “Doesn’t it?”

“Honestly…” he squinted
at it. “Well. Maybe.”

“See? I used to imagine
climbing the tallest trees around my house to try and get there. I knew it
wouldn’t work, even when I was little, but I just wanted to go there so badly.
Just to do it. I don’t know why. I know there’s nothing there. I’d just like to
be able to experience it, once in my life.”

“Well, you know, space
tourism is under development as we speak. You may yet have a chance.”

Hell - he was right. If I was
wise with my profits from this whole venture, I might be able to actually
afford a trip to the moon someday. What an insane idea. My childhood dream,
that I thought for sure would never come true. I really could have anything I
wanted.

“I’ll make sure to put it on
my Christmas list,” I said, leaning back in my seat.

The drive was a short one, taking
us to a place downtown that I’d walked past many times, never even considering
the possibility that I might eat there someday. It was sleek and elegant, more
along the lines of what I had been expecting on our first date. While the Inn
was lovely and comfortable, this looked more like the sort of place a
high-powered businessman would propose to his supermodel wife.

Or me, as the case might be.

When we pulled up to the curb,
Daniel jumped out of the car and quickly ran to my side, opening my door before
I had a chance. He gave me his hand to help me out. As we walked arm-in-arm up
the steps that led to the entrance, I could feel eyes on me.

I really should have gotten my
hair done.

The host looked up and smiled
when we walked in the door. “Mr. Thorne, we have your table right over
here. Please follow me.”

I had never felt more awkward in
my life - and that was saying something. Walking between the booths and tables
of the fanciest restaurant in the city, I tried to keep my eyes focused on the
wall directly in front of me, but I knew people were watching me. Of course
they were. Who wouldn’t? I looked like a little girl playing dress up in
Mommy’s fancy clothes. It was absurd to think I could ever fit in an
environment like this. No matter how much money Daniel spent on me, I’d always
stand out as someone who was just pretending.

“Here you are, sir.
Ma’am.” The host handed us our menus. “Your server will be with you
in a moment.”

“Thank you, Tom.”
Daniel laid his menu down on the table, unopened. “Before you decide on
anything, I recommend waiting to hear the specials. They’re always seasonal and
fresh as it gets.”

“Thanks,” I said. I
didn’t feel like looking at my menu anyway. I didn’t feel like eating, for that
matter.

The server came back shortly,
prattling on about braised this and locally grown that. I ordered something I
hardly understood, and he came back shortly with a bottle of white wine. As he
poured us both a glass, I forced a smile at Daniel, acutely aware that we were
being watched. Hopefully, if I looked strange, it would pass as the anxiety of
a woman who was expecting to be proposed to, but was still unsure if it would
really happen or not.

“Nice place, isn’t it?”
Daniel said, and I realized that I hadn’t spoken in a long time.

“Yes,” I said.
“It’s very…it’s very classy.”

“Not the sort of place you
eat every day.” Daniel poured himself a second glass of wine. “But,
it’s nice for special occasions.”

“You could eat here every
day,” I said. “If you wanted to.”

He looked down at his napkin,
unfolding and spreading it over his lap with exaggerated slowness so he
wouldn’t have to meet my eyes. To anyone listening it would probably sound like
an innocent comment, but he and I both knew it was calculated to annoy him.

He didn’t speak again until our
entrées came. I had some sort of fish that was perfectly done, sweet and flaky,
with crisp young asparagus and risotto on the side. I ate as much of it as I
could manage, even though it seemed to turn to sand in my mouth. My throat was
very dry. I finished the last of the wine, and Daniel gestured for another
bottle.

After our plates were cleared
away and we ordered dessert, he finally seemed to have relaxed a bit. He
started talking again as if we were really just a couple on a date.

“Do you really want to go to
the moon?” His eyes were sparkling with amusement.

“I mean…yeah. I thought
everybody did.”

He shook his head. “I don’t
think so. But I really hope you can, someday.”

“I always wanted to go to
space camp when I was a kid, but it was always too expensive.” I laid my
fork down on my plate, leaving my tiramisu half-uneaten. It was inevitable that
there would be an awkward silence every time the topic of money came up. I
wasn’t sure which one of us was more to blame for it, but it was almost
palpable every time. I shook my head and tried to think of an appropriate
change of subject.

“Wasn’t there something
ridiculous you wanted to do as a kid?”

He pondered this for a moment.
“Become a doctor?”

“That’s not
ridiculous.”

“Well, neither is going to
the moon, if you’re cut out to become an astronaut. But for me, it was.”

“Why?” I took a drink
of my water. “I mean, seriously. What stopped you?”

“I got older, I suppose. I
readjusted my expectations for myself.”

The server came by with refills,
and Daniel ordered a bottle of champagne. It was coming. I swallowed a rising
lump in my throat.

“I don’t see why you
couldn’t have done it,” I said. “If you put your mind to it. You’re
obviously smart, so why not?”

He laughed, folding up his napkin
carefully and returning it to the table. “Trust me, it’s better this
way.”

I clenched my fists in my lap. I
knew what was coming. I knew it, I’d known since the moment I signed the
contract, yet I still wasn’t ready. Far from it. I felt like I was going to
laugh hysterically, throw up, and cry, all at once.

Daniel stood up.

His hand was in his jacket
pocket.

I squeezed my eyes shut. When I
opened them again, he was down on one knee.

He opened the black velvet box,
displaying a delicate gold ring with twin diamonds nested together diagonally,
complementing the wave design of the band as it ran underneath them. It was
striking and subtle at the same time - stunningly beautiful, yet very wearable.
I wondered if Emma had helped him pick it out. It seemed like her style.

“Madeline, will you marry
me?”

I nodded, numbly. I had to close
my eyes again. Tears were gathering, and I didn’t know if I could hold them. My
back ached as I sat bolt upright in my chair, keeping my eyelids glued shut,
willing the tears not to come and ruin my makeup. I felt him take my hand and
slide the ring onto my finger. It was perfectly sized. Of course. Daniel took
my hands and pulled me to my feet, and then he kissed me. His lips were soft
and warm against mine.

There was a smattering of
applause. Daniel let me go, and I sat back down mechanically. The server poured
champagne. I drank my whole flute in one swallow and tried to dab at my face
with the napkin enough to dry it, without smearing my mascara.