Page 20 of Marrying a Billionaire

“My code is 1771. For when you want to go places.”

Lillian glanced over at him. “Thanks.”

The doors closed, leaving them alone in the elevator. The gears hummed to life and began carrying them up to the twentieth floor. Reed was racking his brain for something to talk about. But what does one say to a person that they just kissed and it kind of, sort of, knocked their socks off? Polite conversation didn’t seem like enough.

“Have you lived here long?” she asked.

Grateful that Lillian had be the first to break the silence, Reed smiled over at her. “Since Hannah—” he pinched his lips together. As soon as her name came spilling out of his lips, he knew that a conversation about his past was the last thing he wanted to have on the evening of his engagement. She should be the furthest thing from his mind. And Lillian didn’t need to know his history. “For about five months.”

When he turned his attention over to her, Reed noticed that Lillian was studying him. As if she suspected what he was going to say. And maybe she knew. The magazine articles weren’t too kind about the situation. But Lillian didn’t seem like the kind of person that would read the gossip columns, so Reed decided to go with the assumption that she knew nothing. It was less painful that way.

Thankfully, the elevator chimed, and the doors opened to the small hallway that led to his door. He walked across the plush carpet and pulled out his key. “I’ll have Harold make you a copy,” he said as he unlocked the door and stepped into his flat.

Once Lillian was inside, Reed shut the door and hung his key on the wall next to him. He made his way into the kitchen where he grabbed out two bottles of water and offered her one.

“I know how much you love water,” he said, giving her a wink.

She was standing close to the door as if she felt like she didn’t belong. That was the last thing Reed wanted. This was going to be her home as well—or at least that was what the contract stipulated. She might as well feel like she belonged.

“You okay?” he asked as he wiggled the bottle in her direction.

Lillian smiled and took the water. She studied him for a moment, parting her lips as if she wanted to say something. Then she shook her head and untwisted the cap. “You’ve got quite a decorator,” she said, glancing around his living room.

Reed followed her gaze. He wasn’t sure he would classify his flat like that. “My mom’s decorator came in and did this.” He waved his hand around. “Not really my taste, but what can you do?” He took another swig of water.

Lillian wrinkled her nose. “Yeah. It’s a little too black and white for a home. A dentist’s office, maybe. It needs some color.”

“Feel free to add anything to the decor. I want you to feel like you belong here.”

There was a shift to the intensity of her gaze. Almost as if she didn’t know how to process what he’d said. Then she swallowed and raised her eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

“Yep. This is going to be your home, too. I want you comfortable. Besides, I’m rarely here anyway.”

Her eyes widened as she glanced over at him. “Really? So, I’m going to be here alone?”

Maybe his mom really didn’t think this through. From the expression of Lillian’s face, being his wife was not the profession she wanted. He gave her a quick smile. “You can do anything you want.” An idea popped into his head. “In fact. I have an office right next to the guest room you’re staying in. Why don’t you turn that into your own office?”

She dropped her jaw. “I couldn’t do that. It’s your office.”

He shrugged. “You are going to be my wife. I want you happy.” He thought for a moment. “Don’t they say, happy wife, happy life?”

She tapped her water bottle with her finger. “Yeah. They do say that.”

“I aim to please,” he said, waving his hand toward his chest.

Lillian began to nod her head more enthusiastically now. “Okay. I can get on board with that.”

Reed reached out and brushed her arms with his fingertips. What started out as a comforting gesture quickly had his skin tingling and his heart pounding. But, there was no going back now, so he kept them there for a second longer before he dropped his arm and shoved his hands into his front pockets.

Lillian glanced over at him. There was something in her gaze that hinted to him that she might have felt something, too. Before he drove himself crazy trying to decipher her expressions, he smiled. Saying something seemed like the best distraction. “Just no fluffy pink pillows or pictures of babies dressed as vegetables.”

Her she raised her eyebrows and she forced a shocked expression. “But that’s the only thing I decorate with.”

“I knew it. I knew it when I looked at you that you were that kind of decorator.”

She laughed. A soulful, genuine laugh. It was the first real laugh he’d heard from her and he liked it. Once it died down, a wave of exhaustion passed over her face. “I should get to bed. I’ve got a big day of unpacking tomorrow.” She nodded toward the small stack of boxes.

“Yeah. It’s been a long day.” He glanced in the direction that the guest room was. “Can I walk you to your place?”

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