Page 65 of My Big, Fat, Accidental Billionaire Husband

“The ocean-facing façade needs to harmonize with the local ecosystem,” he continues, drawing sweeping arcs across the board. “The materials have to tell a story of respect for the natural environment while still delivering luxury.”

I should be frustrated. Iamfrustrated. But there’s something magnetic about watching him work like this. His focus absolute, his passion radiating off him like heat. He’s transformed from the cool, controlled businessman into something wilder, more primal. It’s the same transformation I witnessed last night when he—

Focus, Tatiana.

“What if we integrate living walls?” He turns to me suddenly, eyes bright with excitement. “Native plants throughout the structure, maintained by a gravity-fed irrigation system using collected rainwater?”

A smile tugs at my lips before I can stop it. “That would require a complete redesign of the water management system.”

“Yes!” He grabs another marker. “And it would be worth every penny. Imagine walking through corridors lined with indigenous flora, the scent of jasmine and orchids greeting you with each step.”

I can almost smell it... fresh, earthy, alive. And suddenly I get it. This isn’t just a luxury resort to him. It’s a vision, a dream manifested in concrete and steel and living things.

“You’d need to factor in maintenance costs,” I say, stepping closer to the whiteboard. “And train local staff on proper care techniques.”

He nods enthusiastically. “We could partner with a botanical research center. Make it educational as well as beautiful.”

For the next hour, we bounce ideas back and forth. My bullet points and spreadsheets forgotten as I’m pulled into his creative vortex. I find myself gesturing wildly, sketching alongside him, our hands occasionally brushing in a way that sends little electric shocks up my arm.

When we finally pause for breath, the whiteboard is a magnificent mess of interconnected ideas, arrows, and scribbles that somehow make perfect sense to both of us.

“This is why I couldn’t just review your document,” he says softly. “I needed to see it, tofeelit. Understand how all the pieces fit together.”

Our eyes meet, and for a moment, I glimpse something beyond the billionaire facade. A creator, a visionary, a man who cares deeply about building something meaningful.

“I get it,” I admit. “But next time, maybe start with ‘I’d like to brainstorm’ instead of just saying ‘no?’”

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Where’s the fun in that?”

God help me, I actually find his arrogance charming now.

“So,” I say, gesturing to our beautiful chaos. “Which vendor do we go with?”

He studies the board for a moment, then points confidently to my second option. The one I secretly thought was best all along.

“That one. They understand what we’re trying to create.”

I bite back a smile. “That’s the conclusion my spreadsheet would have led you to an hour ago.”

“But without understanding why,” he counters. “And the why matters to me.”

Our eyes meet again, and I feel something dangerous unfurling in my chest. Something that has nothing to do with contracts or clauses or the countdown that’s constantly running in the back of my mind.

The markers are all capped now, our collaborative masterpiece spread across the whiteboard like a beautiful mess. The energy between us has shifted, charged with something I’m afraid to name.

I take a deep breath. “Can we address the elephant in the room?”

His expression shutters immediately, like watching security gates slam down at closing time.

“What elephant?” he asks, though we both know exactly what I’m talking about.

Coward. Both of us, really.

“Last night,” I say, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “Us. What happened.”

He turns away, suddenly very interested in straightening markers that are already perfectly aligned.

“It was just release,” he says, his voice carefully neutral. “Clause fulfillment. Nothing more. Nothing has changed between us.”

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