Page 13 of Beauty and the Billionaire

“I’m going to be your assistant,” I said in a dazed tone.

“Sort of,” Dominic said.

“Don’t you have a platoon of people organizing your ventures?” I asked.

“The latest one is a…passion project,” Dominic said diplomatically.

“I’m struggling to imagine you as a passionate person,” I said without thinking.

Dominic’s lips pressed together for a moment. “You wouldn’t be the first person to think that.”

“I’m sorry,” I murmured.

“Don’t think about it,” he said, directing his attention to the chicken thigh and picking up spoonfuls of rice, prepared just like my grandmother had when we visited four years ago.

“I’m just surprised,” I admitted. “And confused.”

“What for?” he asked, paying more attention to his food than me.

I weighed my words and decided that holding back gained me nothing. “We didn’t meet under the best circumstances. Having me assist you with business matters is a huge leap of faith on the sort of skill and knowledge I might as well not have.”

“I don’t doubt you’ll be up to the task,” Dominic said. “It’s much less glamorous than you imagine. Besides, it’s a starting point.” He glanced at me briefly. It was so quick that I might have imagined the softness in his look. The cool, hard exterior returned in no time. “Unless you would rather spend your life selling turmeric.”

My face flushed with heat. “It’s a family business.”

Dominic pressed his lips together and ate in silence. Part of me thought he was embarrassed, avoiding my gaze and focusing on food. It was the curious, imaginative part of me that had nothing to do with reality. Dominic clearly thought my father’s business was worth little.

After dinner, Dominic offered to sit together in the sitting room. We passed through a different door from the one where I had entered and found ourselves in a dimly lit living room fit for a noble. Long, comfortable sofas were scattered around coffee tables. There was a pool table with balls forming a triangle and no marks of use.

I wondered if I should talk to him. I wondered if he expected me to speak andentertainhim. There was nothing wrong with being entertaining, but it felt almost humiliating to think that that was why he wanted me around.

Instead of talking, I sat on the edge of a sofa while Dominic sat in a worn-out armchair. My hands fiddled with the folder. I opened it, glanced through the contract, and closed it.

“A problem?” Dominic asked.

“No. Not a problem. It’s…very thorough,” I said.

“I don’t like uncertainty and vagueness. Of course, what you do from four in the afternoon and on weekends is up to you. The forest is not so charming this time of year, but there are walking trails you might enjoy.” He drank whiskey from a small glass.

When I looked at him, I noticed that the top button of his white shirt was undone. I hadn’t looked at him too much throughout dinner, but we weren’t sitting so close now, and my gazes weren’t so noticeable. The V-line formed by the open collar revealed smooth, taut skin, and the snugness of the shirt around his chest and shoulders made me think he was in very good shape.

As if reading my mind, he said, “There is a gym you can use. Not all of the house is open throughout the year, but the gym will be.”

I found myself feeling ever so slightly grateful. It was a sensation I squashed instantly, reminding myself that I was here because he was a ruthless lender. Yes, the job would give me the experience necessary to start a career if a career was something I wanted to start. And the living quarters were better than I’d ever imagined. And the food my grandmother would have made was a nice touch, too. Still, that didn’t make Dominic Blackthorne any less of a cruel billionaire than he had been three days ago.

“Am I allowed to leave?” I asked.

Dominic looked at me like I had asked something that had never crossed his mind.Why would you want to leave?But I refused to read the answer from his expression. So I waited. “You will have to coordinate it with Orwell.”

I nodded. After a while, the silence grew too thick again. “And this passion project, what is it?”

Dominic inhaled through his perfect, straight nose and held his breath, looking into my eyes. “I acquired a company,” he said. “And I would like to maximize the return on that investment.”

I frowned. “I’m sure you have a dozen seasoned businesspeople who could do that better.”

“It’s not a monetary return I’m hoping for,” Dominic said.

That only deepened my frown.

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