Page 23 of The Good Billionaire

“I’m so bad, I’m good.”

“You’re a good man. I will give you that. The good doctor who always takes care of his patients.”

“Now I’m a good billionaire. And it looks like it will stay that way.” He frowned.

“What way?”

He stepped back. “I did read through those divorce papers.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Okay, Luke read them. Why didn’t you ask for any money?” He leaned against one of the monolithic columns of the hotel lobby.

“Because I make a good salary and we don’t have children. That’s your family’s money. I wasn’t going to—”

“You’remy family, damn it. My father gave that money to me and you. Tous.”

I cleared my throat, alarmed at how passionate he got.

“I’m sorry. I’m not playing around here, Kennedy.” He held my face, my erratic breathing had him pulling me in. “I don’t want the divorce. I love you. I never stopped. Youknowthat.”

Yeah, I knew that. Nodding, I caught his eyes, hooded like he longed for me to tell him I still loved him too. That wouldn’t solve anything, though.

I also believed he hadn’t gone all stalker on me when I left because I’d damaged his pride. The Hart pride was legendary. The texts were his passive-aggressive attempt to straddle that line.

With his trip to San Francisco looming, time had run out. I’d never given him a chance to make things right, had I? I’d packed up during one of his marathon knee replacement surgery days. I’d moved out and left my key on the kitchen counter.

“Babe, talk to me,” he said, touching my face.

“I, uh...” I stared into his green eyes. The definition of insanity meant doing the same thing over and over. Seb and I sounded like a damn broken record. I had one card left in my deck. My promotion.I’dmade my career unimportant by keeping the new job from him. Hadn’t given him a chance to react.

Zelda strutted past me. “Fifteen minutes.”

Damn, Seb and I had an important, knockdown, drag-out brawl to the finish ahead of us. But I couldn’t strip away all the crap of the last couple of years and fight for my careerandmy marriage... In fifteen minutes.

But I’d do it after the wedding. “I need a drink.”

“Come on.” Seb took my hand and led me to the seating area in the front lobby.

Luke, Tristan, and Grayson sat in saddle leather chairs around a cocktail table dressed in their finely cut suits sharing a bottle of champagne.

“Have room for two more?” Seb said when we reached his cousins.

“Got a seat for you right here, Kennedy,” Grayson said, patting his lap.

“You’re funny, Gray. Touch her and I’ll kill you,” Seb said in a deadly serious tone.

“And I’ll get you off,” said Luke, the lawyer turned hotel CEO.

Tristan stood, shaking his head. “Come on, Seb, let’s get two more glasses.”

“And another bottle please.” Grayson waved the empty one.

I took Tristan’s seat, pleased at the warmth and musky scent he left behind. I watched him and Sebastian at the bar and then glanced around the lobby. Tristan and Luke may not have expected to be running a hotel, but they both looked so utterly perfect in their roles.

I echoed Aunt Marissa’s sentiment and hoped Seb’s cousins found good women. Although, I worried with their billionaire status came opportunists. I wondered if their money made them more guarded.

Tristan and Seb came back with another bottle and I felt guilty for sipping expensive champagne with the four most beautiful men in Manhattan instead of doting on the bride. This was more fun. Luke stood up and let Tristan have his seat facing me while Seb sat on the arm of my chair.

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