Page 95 of The Billionaire's Fake Fiancée

“What?” Rex is watching me. “What are you thinking?”

“About English toffee,” I say.

He frowns.

“Marvin was pretty interested in what we were up to, don’t you think?” I say. “Can you deny the weirdness now?”

Rex brushes a strand of hair off my face. “I can’t deny it,” he says. “Why the hell is he following us around? Why follow us to this area? If he wants to eavesdrop on a business conversation, Clark and I are the ones who are running things. A man who’s after a woman doesn’t typically spy on her when she’s with a guy. He wants tobethe guy, not see me with you. If he wants a threesome or a cuckold thing, he comes in. Pretends he lost his way.”

“That would’ve been a mood killer,” I say.

“I don’t like this,” he rumbles. “Nothing makes sense.”

I bite back a smile. Rex is such a control freak; of course he hates when things don’t make sense. “You know my opinion,” I tease. “He wanted to see if we were searching for hairs, realizing only too late that he didn’t cover all of his bases and that his hair could still be in the salon. He never imagined in a million years that we’d figure him out, and he’snothappy about it.”

For once he doesn’t act like the idea is ridiculous.

I touch my finger to his nose. “Nothappy,” I say again.

“It can’t possibly be that. But…well, it’ll be easy enough to rule out.”

“Are you gonna rearrange his face like a marble cake?” I ask.

He looks down at me with that stern, hard look that gets lightning bolts flashing through my belly.

“I’m going to take a look in his room,” he says. “I’ve been wanting to, anyway. I’ll grab a few hairs while I’m there. Presumably he combs his own hair.”

“Wait, what? You’re on board with the fake nephew DNA thing?”

“On board is stretching it. I’m ninety-nine point nine percent sure that’s not what’s happening, but it’s easy enough to rule out. I want to look in his room anyway.”

My lips part in shock. He’s serious?

“I don’t like how little sense his actions make,” he explains. “I don’t like it.”

I bite back a smile. I shouldn’t love his annoyed tone so much, but I do. Especially when it’s aimed at Marvin. “So…just bust into his room.”

“Yacht locks are flimsy. It’s why they have safes.”

I find it interesting that he noticed the locks. Does he always notice things like that? I’m thinking of his whole history now; did his rough-and-tumble South Boston upbringing make him more attentive to security or is that his control-freak side talking?

“I’ll go hang around on deck in a cabana or whatever tomorrow and wait until he’s occupied and head in,” he says, like it’s nothing.

“Just bust right on in,” I say.

“I think you love saying that,” he says.

I do love saying it, but more, I love being with Rex—he makes me feel so weirdly happy and just alive. I love his determination and how strong and clear he is when he wants to solve a problem. This is the Rex I fell for over the past two years in his office—fierce and formidable and endlessly compelling.

And I love that he drank a pink drink for me, stupid and small as that was.

But I need to remember that he’s not really on my side. He’s just stuck with me on a yacht and we have chemistry. Any guy would want to fuck.

Still, it feels a tiny bit like we’re a team. I let myself imagine how it would be if he was really on my side, really mine.

It’s a bad thing to want. If there’s one thing I know, it’s this: when you think somebody is yours, when you start thinking about the future with somebody, that’s when you get destroyed.

Chapter 16

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