Page 80 of The Billionaire's Fake Fiancée

“I won’t wait long,” she says.

“You and Gail have a bond,” I say. It’s something I’ve come to respect, how easily Tabitha won her over. Would it have killed me to say something?

“So…that cocktail hour now.” Her tone is glum. She usually looks forward to being around people.

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention,” I say.

“I did it for Gail. And Iamgoing to tell her about what I heard at some point.” She heads into her room and shuts the door behind her.

I stare after her, unsure what to do for once in my life.

Suddenly the door opens again. She pops her head out. “And newsflash: from now on, I’ll be answering to kitten. Because I’m unbelievably cute, but oh my god do I have claws.” She shuts the door again. The sound seems to reverberate in my chest.

I need to handle this crisis, but all I want to do is go in after her—and do what? Talk to her? Kiss her? Call her kitten like she asked?

Good luck with that,I think, shoving a hand through my hair. Instead, I go into the room I’ve been using as a bedroom and check on Clark. He’s on top of things, as usual. He’s perfectly capable of handling this investigation, possibly more capable than I am at this point.

He gives me an update and leaves me to get ready.

Tabitha comesout in a green cocktail-length gown with gleaming jet buttons down the bodice that match the black shoulder straps. Her thick, dark hair is in a straight style, pulled back into a polished ponytail. She looks strong and statuesque, so goddamn gorgeous I can barely think straight. She really can pull off elegant clothes—far better than any of the haute-couture clothes horses on this yacht.

“You are…stunning,” I say.

“Save it for the deck.”

“I mean it,” I growl. “I’m an asshole, not a liar.”

She gives me a dismissive snort.

I straighten. I’ve never seen this edge of her and I find that I like it. She feels more real, somehow. Usually I cringe inwardly when people reveal hidden facets of themselves—it’s all I can do not to beg them to stop for fuck’s sake! But with Tabitha, I just want more.

What have I done?

We head out in silence. Just as we emerge onto the cocktail deck, I hover my hand over the small of her back, playing the attentive fiancé without touching her.

This is how it is, now.

We get waylaid by the Wharton grads, and Tabitha leaves and drifts over to a knot of women.

I watch her smile as people talk at me. What would she have worn to this charity cocktail party if she’d been able to pick something from her own closet? What kind of infuriatingly sparkly devil-may-care whirl of color would she have showed up in? Or maybe it would’ve been something with cats or Hello Kitty. Tabitha will take big-personality outfits over high-fashion elegance any day of the week. Instead she’s wearing a dress that a stranger picked out for her, a dress designed to hide who she is.

I watch her discreetly, looking for one of her small rebellions—sparkly nail polish, a quirky dog pendant, the sparkly pink barrette she sometimes wears, but she seems to be a hundred percent in disguise now.

Not that it works—Tabitha’s spirit twirls and shines like a disco ball. It used to bug the shit out of me. Fill me with this weird urge to get in her face, to tamp her down.

But now, looking at her, all I can think about is the way she felt in my arms. The little sounds she made. The softness of her skin. The perfect handful of her ass. The way her face softened when she came, lips parted.

She’s laughing, now. If I hadn’t seen the rage and the devastation in her eyes, I might believe the laughter. She’s such a little actress.

Gail chooses this time to come up and stand next to me. Maybe she sees me staring at Tabitha like the madman that I’ve apparently become. “Watch out for that one. She may just outstrip you,” Gail says.

I turn to her. “What do you mean—outstrip?”

“Her ideas for her style storefronts? They’re exciting. She could really do this thing.”

I blink. She told Gail her business idea instead of me. But then, I didn’t exactly ask her.

“She has amazing vision,” Gail continues. “I can see how people might underestimate her. But you didn’t, did you?”

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