Page 21 of Beauty and the Billionaire

Orwell knockedon my door around nine that evening. I had decided to go to bed without dinner for the simple reason that I couldn’t imagine sitting across from him, receiving those cold looks and a lecture about privacy.

I had expected Orwell to find me and remind me of dinner an hour ago. But when he hadn’t, I decided that he wouldn’t look for me at all. I had changed into black cotton shorts and a sleeveless T-shirt for reading. The room was so hot that I would have to undress for bed, and I would still swelter.

“Yes?” I answered. The knock was not as loud as Orwell normally made them.

The knob turned, and the door opened slowly. My heart sank. Even before he stepped into the room, I knew this wasn’t Orwell. Dominic wore a white shirt and a pair of dark gray pants. He entered my room, and his gaze dropped to the book in my lap just as I closed it. “Swimming in the Dark?”

I said nothing.

“I’m surprised,” Dominic said. His voice didn’t have any edge to it. Was he so shocked that I was reading a gay book? Asshocked as I had been to see it on his bookshelf? I wondered if he had thought I was straight. Or homophobic. Just because of my name, people imagined I was deeply conservative. “I never thought you’d be drawn to such a depressing read.”

My ears perked with interest. “It teaches you a good lesson.”

Dominic snorted. “Does it? I must have missed it.”

“Love can’t be built blindly,” I offered. “To build something worth keeping, you must see others have it.”

“I believe there was a pointed reference to that close to the end,” Dominic said.

“Are we going to talk about books?” I asked.

He fell silent, his face smoothing out all expressions. He looked into my eyes. “You’re right. I came to ask you to eat with me.”

“I’m not hungry,” I said.

“Don’t be a child,” Dominic said.

“Don’t be an ass,” I said. It was daring, but I found it hard to care.

He stopped talking.

We looked at one another warily until his shoulders loosened a little. “Fair enough.” He hesitated a moment longer, then exhaled. “Would you join me for dinner?”

I rolled my shoulders. “Sure.”

He tilted his head to the hallway.

I got up, leaving the novel in the armchair, and followed him. I didn’t care that he wore dress pants and a crisp shirt. I didn’t care that I looked like I was about to have a hot dog on the go. If it bothered him, he said nothing.

We walked into the dining room to find a table filled with more food than we could eat in three nights, let alone one sitting. Dominic pulled a chair to his right, and I cautiously took it. He sat down at the head of the table, to my left, and served us both asparagus with butter and salt.

Words welled in me, but I resisted the urge to speak them immediately. Instead, we ate in relative silence, commenting on work a few times out of politeness. Dominic asked me if I found it difficult, and I said it was still pretty straightforward. “A little daunting, considering the volume.”

“I found that it’s always better to be busy than idle,” he murmured.

“I’m never idle,” I said simply.

“No. You read.”

I wondered if that was a hint of a smile on his face or a trick of the light.

We went from one course to the next until I couldn’t imagine having another bite.

“A nightcap?” Dominic offered.

Part of me wanted to get away from him. This was too erratic. Today, he had told me clearly that bringing me here was his only regret. Now, he was as sweet as he possibly could be. It was still not very sweet, but he was making an effort.

I nodded.

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