Page 130 of The Billionaire's Fake Fiancée

“We’re off the yacht. This is the end of the vacation.”

My heart thunders. “Only because it ended prematurely,” I say.

“The contract specified until the end of the yacht trip.”

“Screw the contract,” I say. “I’m telling you I want to be in a relationship with you. I want to spend time with you. I want to wake up with you. I’m a lot of things, Tabitha, but I’m not a liar. I know you want it, too.”

She looks at me sadly. “It just can’t be.”

“You don’t know the future,” I say.

“I know the past.”

“The past has nothing to do with the future,” I tell her.

She reaches up and touches the side of my beard, strokes the place she loves to touch. I shut my eyes, enjoying her touch, searching for the words to make this right.

There’s a federally mandated disclaimer on earnings graphs that sayspast performance is not a guarantee of future earnings. People usually ignore it—the colorful graph showing brilliant returns always feels more real and compelling than the warning. Humans are hardwired to learn from the past. Often, literally, in the form of a flinch reaction.

That’s what Tabitha has—a kind of flinch reaction. My heart rages with the knowledge.

I wrap my fingers around her wrist, make her keep her hand on my cheek. “Don’t throw this away because of shitty guys in your past.”

Clark comes back, phones in both hands. “Rex. You need to deal with this.”

“Give us a minute,” I growl. The pocket door slips back shut.

“You should go,” she says.

“This is more important.Weare more important.”

“More important than finishing right with Gail? Making sure that the door to the account you’ve wanted all your life stays propped open, so when Wydover fails, you’re the one she runs to?”

I’d told her my strategy on the helicopter. Doing the right thing. Staying the course. Hoping someday she comes back.

“More important than the business you’ve built your life around?” she asks. “The business that ensures that you’ll never be trapped and miserable? More important than doing right by your people?”

“It’s a false choice. I can do right by my peopleandbe with you. I won’t throw this away. You don’t trust men—I get it—”

She pulls her hand from my grip. “Rex, look at me. Really look.” Her eyes shine, but not with the usual mischief. “You have me dressed up in these clothes that aren’t mine, playing your entrepreneurial-minded fiancée. The truth is, I’m just some girl who cuts your hair, and you’re a guy who never wants to be limited or confined. And now we’re going back to real life.”

“Screw that. We can have one more date, one more dinner at least. What about that?” I say. “Give me one good reason we can’t have one more date.”

“Maybe I’m not brave,” she says in a small voice. “Maybe a person only has so much bravery in life, and mine got used up.”

My heart lurches. “I won’t accept that.”

“You don’t have a choice,” she says. “You saved me from losing my place. I’m so grateful. And in two months or whatever, I’ll make my social media posts dovetail with yours for the breakup, just like we agreed.” She pauses, then, “I loved us together,” she adds. “Let it be an amazing memory.”

I want to shake her and yell at her not to throw this away, but I can’t bully her into dating me.

She shakes her head. She looks so sad.

I can make fortunes in my sleep, but I can’t make Tabitha trust me. I can’t make her give us a chance.

Chapter 23

Tabitha

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