Page 17 of The Billionaire's Fake Wife
5
Summer
"Seriously?" I snap my eyes open.
This man has the ability to reduce me to surprised silence and that’s not complimentary, though it does take a lot to rob me of my ability to speak, honestly. It’s more a testament to his sheer audacity. "You didn’t ask me that."
"Why not?"
"Because… it’s incredibly rude, for one."
"Is it?"
"Are you kidding me?"
"I never 'kid.’ " He says the last word as if it’s a bad smell.
"Figures." I can’t stop the chuckle that spills from my lips. "If you could stop long enough to actually notice your surroundings, you'd see that we don’t live in the dark ages anymore. Perhaps you’d see how everything is wrong about this picture."
"You actually believe there is free will in this world, hmm?"
His voice tugs at my nerve endings; goosebumps dot my skin.
It’s being enclosed in this tiny space that’s making me faint. I am not claustrophobic, but being stuck in an elevator with a larger-than-life male who has a completely warped sense of his own importance is… is enough to sap the will of any strong-willed woman... and I am… but one desperate to get to her meeting, and wrap up this account. "I am going to be late."
"It can wait."
Anger flares low in my belly, "There you go again, presuming to know what I can and can’t do."
"Why should I pretend?"
"Because…" I fidget, "Because… it’s polite?"
"Which I am not. We’ve established that already. So why don’t you cooperate?"
"That’ll be the day." I huff out a breath.
"The faster you answer my question, the sooner we can both be on our way."
"So, if I tell you if I am a… a…"
"Virgin." His lips curl.
Bastard’s having so much fun at my expense. I can’t wait to wipe that look of satisfaction from his face. Honestly, I really, truly, want to see him on his knees and groveling. For mercy. And I’d never show him an iota of it, I won’t.
"Yeah." I square my shoulders, "That. If I tell you… which by the way, I am not going to because, newsflash, this isn’t the dark ages anymore. Women are allowed to live as they want, date whom they desire, sleep with..."
His eyes glitter.
"—not you." I gulp, "I definitely don’t want that with you."
He glares at me, "So you’re thinking about it, huh?"
Nope.
"Admit it."
Never.
