Page 87 of The Billionaire's Fake Fiancée

“C’mon—”

“I don’t need to be humored. I don’t need to be patronized and made a fool of—”

“That’s not what this is. I wanted to do something with you.”

“You wanted to do something with me—yeah. I think I figured out that part.”

“I didn’t mean like that. It’s something you’re interested in. I care about what you’re interested in—I do, and…” A flash of color in the corner of my eye halts my train of thought. My attention rivets to the far mirror just in time to see Marvin sneak up and flatten himself up against the hall wall outside the door.

Marvin. Hiding. Listening.

Spyingon us.

What. The. Fuck.

My pulse races.

“What’s wrong? Am I boring you now?” she demands.

I settle my hands onto her shoulders, giving her a significant look. “You could never bore me,” I gust out as I maneuver her out of the sightline of the mirror—and Marvin—and push her against the wall.

Her eyes shine. “Thisis where you think this is going?”

Into her ear, I whisper, “Marvin’s out there. Spying on us. Saw him in the mirror.” I point with a tip of my chin, watch her expression as she processes it. Blinking.

If I hadn’t insulted her so deeply, she’d probably be a lot more excited by this strange new turn of events. And what is up with Marvin? Why would Marvin follow us? Why would he feel the need to watch us? Watching her, I get. But spying on us together?

She bites her bottom lip. I can practically see the gears turning in her head. Just what she needs—more fuel for her theory. She’d probably say he’s worried we’re onto him, and wants to see whether we’re trying to find DNA.

But whywouldhe follow us? Is he worried about us in some way?

I draw closer, lips grazing the shell of her ear. “Could he have seen you?” I whisper. “You know, while he was on the phone? Could he have figured out that you overheard?”

She frowns. Angry. Iwaspatronizing her, but right now she needs to get over it.

“What do you think?” I add.

“He kept talking,” she whispers back. “Why keep talking if he saw me?”

“Maybe he heard something and dismissed it,” I whisper back, “but now he’s wondering if it was something. Maybe he caught a flash of color and he’s remembering back to what you wore. Or he thinks back and realizes that flash of chocolate could be your hair.”

She seems to consider this. “Mmmm,” she says under her breath. “Itistrue that my hair is a beautiful chocolaty brown.”

“Be serious,” I whisper. “Think back.”

“Hedidseem to move his head to look up in my direction at one point,” she mumbles softly. “I mean, I could only see the top of his head.”

I cage her with my arms. “Why follow us here? I mean, thesalon?” I breathe. That’s the part that doesn’t make sense. “Is he trying to find…proof we’re fake? But it’s not as if we’re going to sneak in here to have a conversation about how fake our engagement is.”

She whispers, “What could it be that my loving future husband just bullheadedly refuses to see? What could the reason be?”

I hear a soft scratching, like a watch rubbing lightly along a wall or a doorframe, there and gone. Is Marvin moving closer?

I put my lips to her ear. “Don’t mess this up,” I warn. “Act romantic.”

Softly, she says, “I don’t see my character going romantic in this scenario.”

I level my gaze at Tabitha. “Do your job,” I grumble.

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