Page 34 of Marrying a Billionaire

Lillian’s eyes widened. “Helicopter?”

He followed her as they returned to her room for the second time to gather her dress which was zipped up in a safety cover. Reed draped it over his arm and grabbed the shoe box that she dug out of her closet.

She had an uneasy expression on her face as he led her to the front door and opened it.

“Don’t worry. Bert, my helicopter pilot, is the best in the business.” He motioned toward his hallway with his head. When they got to the elevator, he pressed the up button.

“Wait. It’s picking us up here?”

Reed nodded as he stepped into the elevator. “Yep.”

Lillian let out her breath as she followed. The elevator rose the last few floors and stopped on the roof. It dinged, and the doors opened.

The whirring sound of Bert’s helicopter filled the air. Wind blew all around them as they approached. Reed and Lillian ducked down as Bert waved for them to board.

Once they were buckled in with their headsets on, Reed glanced over at Lillian. Her eyes were wide, and her forehead was furrowed. Sensing her uneasiness, Reed reached out and wrapped his hand around hers.

She jumped as her gaze whipped to him. But before she pulled away, the helicopter rose, and Lillian grasped onto his hand with her left one. He laughed as she leaned closer to him, tipping her face toward his shoulder.

“You’ll be fine,” he said into the microphone.

She glanced over at him. He held her gaze, hoping she’d see that he meant his words. She bit her lip and then began to nod.

“Okay,” she said.

He tried to keep his heart from pounding when she slowly turned her hand over so she could entwine her fingers with his. They held hands for the forty-minute ride to his house in the Hamptons. He almost complained when Bert descended onto the pad located in the southern gardens.

For some reason, sitting with Lillian in silence during the ride had felt more right than any time he’d spent with Hannah. There was something about this woman next to him that was reeling him in. He was losing control of his feelings, and that thought made his stomach twist.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t have feelings for Lillian. She was his contract wife. There wasn’t supposed to be any emotion there.

He needed to be smart and pull back. Put distance between himself and Lillian. Or he was going to be in trouble.

When they landed, Reed pulled his hand back and took off his helmet. Once he unbuckled, he helped Lillian with her equipment.

He clapped Bert on his back and motioned for him to return at four so they could make it to his grandfathers at five. Bert nodded in understanding, and then Reed jumped from the helicopter.

After helping Lillian down, Reed grabbed her items and handed them to her. He gave the okay signal to Bert who gave a thumbs-up and waited until Reed and Lillian moved far enough away so he could take off.

As soon as the rush of wind died down, Reed turned to find Lillian staring up at the Williamson’s summer home. Reed hadn’t been there in a long time. After Hannah broke up with him, it had become a place of bitter memories.

Maybe being here with Lillian would cure him of those. He nodded toward the large sliding doors that lined the house as he allowed hope to linger in his mind. Perhaps, Lillian was just what he needed.

Chapter Thirteen

Lillian tried not to stare as Reed led her in through one of the sliding doors that made up the far wall of what she could only assume was his home. He set her purse and dress down on a cream-colored couch and glanced back at her. She stood with her back against the door.

When was he going to realize that she wasn’t the right person for this job? That he had way more to offer her than she did him? Then the memory of his mother holding a pen above the contract raced back to her. He hadn’t asked her to this incredible beach home because he cared about her.

He probably had to. She hadn’t been too studious about reading the contract, but it must have been a clause.

Take Lillian to your beach home to keep up the fake relationship.

She swallowed. Everything had to be in the contract. Why else would he be doing what he was?

The smiles. The looks. The brushes with his fingertips. It all had to be in preparation for their wedding later. There was no way any of this meant anything. He didn’t want their touches in front of his family to be robotic and awkward. Practice was a necessity that he was getting out of the way.

“Are you thirsty? Hungry?” he asked as he made his way toward the large white kitchen that was located off of the room they’d just entered.

---