Page 25 of Marrying a Billionaire

“I understand that,” he said, grabbing his suitcase and wheeling it behind him. “I’m going to unpack and take a quick shower. Then I can join you for dinner.” He passed by her without glancing over.

Lillian nodded, her chest squeezing from the sudden distance he put between them. She didn’t mean to hurt him. She just wanted to guard herself. Reed was too nice. If she wanted to walk away from this contract unscathed, she needed to build a wall.

Fifteen minutes later, Reed emerged from his room in a t-shirt and pajama bottoms. His hair was damp, and he looked refreshed. He shot her a smile as he made his way over to the table where she sat and pulled up a chair.

They ate in silence. When Reed was finished, he set his silverware down and glanced over at her.

She gave him a smile, hoping to make up for earlier. “I’m sorry for what I said.”

Reed studied her. “It’s okay.” He leaned forward, not breaking her gaze. “I get it. This was probably not how you dreamed of meeting and marrying a guy. And after this, what, you’re going to tell people that you’re a divorcee?”

Lillian tried to ignore the ache that took up residence in her chest. If he only knew how true that statement already was. The truth was, there was nothing about the past few years that came even close to what she’d dreamed of. She leaned forward, hoping that she seemed more relaxed then she felt. “And you? Was a contract always a part of your dream when it came to love?”

He laughed and stacked his utensils on his plate as he stood. “Oh yeah. I always imagined that my mother would be involved as well.” He winked as he made his way over to the sink and set his dish into it.

“Typical of a teenage boy,” Lillian said as she grabbed her dish and joined him.

He hesitated, pressing his hands down on the counter. When she neared, he glanced over at her with a serious expression. She wondered what he was thinking. Did she want to know?

She turned on the faucet and rinsed her dish. Reed turned and leaned against the counter with his arms folded. Suddenly, the memory of him standing in the kitchen the morning he left without a shirt on raced back to her. Her cheeks heated as she tried to force the image of his muscular chest from her mind.

“Truth is, I always thought I’d have the normal guy-meets-girl kind of romance. They fall in love and have boatloads of kids.”

Lillian paused and glanced over at him. A sadness crept up inside of her. That was definitely not their relationship. At all.

“But this is better. No feelings, just a mutual agreement.” He tipped his head, cracking his neck. “It’s literally written in the contract that we can’t get hurt. All relationships should be like this.”

Lillian nodded as she focused in on the plate she was rinsing. Why did it hurt to hear him say those things? It was the truth. After all, that’s what they’d agreed to in the beginning. “Agreed,” she said, forcing a smile.

He studied her and then turned his attention to the windows. “Did Patrick stop by?” He squinted over at Lillian. “He’s my contractor.”

“Patrick? That was his name. There were three guys working in your office all day.”

“Did you go in there?”

Lillian glanced over at him. “Was I supposed to?”

He shook his head as excitement brewed in his gaze. “Come with me,” he said, waving toward her.

“Right now? I’m doing the dishes.”

He turned off the water and then reached down and grabbed her hand. Her heart stuttered as he entwined her fingers with his and motioned for her to follow him.

Lillian took a deep breath and forced her feet to move. When they stopped outside the office door, Reed glanced over at her. She couldn’t help but notice that he kept her hand wrapped in his. Did he enjoy it as much as she did?

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. Should I be worried? We covered me not being a serial killer, but I never asked you.” She was hoping humor would help hide the nerves that raced around in her stomach. What could he have possibly done?

But instead of denying that he was a serial killer, Reed just laughed and rested his hand on the door handle. “Close your eyes.”

Lillian gave him an exasperated look and then complied. She waited, straining to listen as the click of the door handle filled the silence. He guided her into the room and turned on the light.

“Open your eyes,” he said.

Lillian hesitated and then peeked through her eyelids. When she saw a pottery wheel, her heart picked up speed. Glancing around, her lips parted. His entire office had been turned into a pottery studio. There was a small kiln in one corner with paints and a clay roller in the other. Lillian stepped farther into the room, turning to look at Reed.

He looked sheepish as he glanced over at her. “Do you like it?”

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