Page 23 of Dearest Protector

He had all the money in the world.

I’d assumed his life was more…glamorous.

It wasn’t.

For the most part, Ben worked, and he worked harder than the average person.

That left very little time for him to live a billionaire lifestyle.

“Seriously?” I asked, looking at him skeptically. “You haven’t had a date in over a year?”

Thatwas hard to believe. The guy had to have women throwing themselves at him all the time.

He was a billionaire for God’s sake, and he was so sinfully attractive that it was ridiculous.

He was also genuinely a nice guy, which was rare, even without all of his other assets.

Ben had changed out of his work attire and was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a Henley shirt, which, I might add, did nothing to lessen his appeal.

In fact, his casual clothing made him more approachable. It had made me more comfortable, too, since I was still wearing the pair of nice jeans and a long-sleeved red shirt I’d put on for work that morning.

“I swear,” Ben said firmly as he dropped his fork onto his empty plate. “It’s true. I haven’t had the best luck with relationships.”

“Why?” I asked curiously.

Because Ben was my boss, I knew I shouldn’t get too personal, but the question had popped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

He shrugged. “Most of them have been more interested in my bank account than they are in me. Maybe I was just choosing the wrong women. Finding a good relationship hasn’t really been my priority, so it’s probably my fault.”

I sighed before I took another sip of my wine.

Most likely, the billionaire persona and Ben’s gorgeous form took priority for some women, but he had a lot more going for him than just those superficial things.

He was wickedly intelligent.

He had a dry but appealing sense of humor.

He was loyal to his family and the people he cared about.

Maybe he was obsessed with Blackwood Technologies, but I sensed that the good things that his company was doing with technology was more important to him than making more money.

“I can’t say that I’ve been any luckier in relationships,” I confessed. “My dancing career always came first. That didn’t leave much time for dating.”

His eyes searched my face as he questioned, “And now that you’re not dancing anymore?”

I practically squirmed in my chair. Everything about Ben was intense, even casual questions. He eyed me like my responses were actually important to him. No guy had ever really seen me and not my dancing persona, so Ben’s genuine interest was almost uncomfortable. I wasn’t used to someone giving a damn about how I felt. I took a deep breath and answered honestly. “All I’ve thought about was survival since my accident. This is probably the first time I’ve been able to breathe since it happened, and my confidence is completely shot. It’s going to take a while. I’m more interested in making sure I can keep eating and paying my bills than I am in dating. I don’t think I can have a healthy relationship when I’m so screwed up and unsure of who I am.”

“I know you still don’t completely believe that your photography can be your next career, but it will be, Ariel,” he answered, his tone reassuring and confident. “Your work is unique. Your following is extremely large, and now that I’m familiar with your work, I can understand why. Have faith in your talent and all of your other valuable assets. Dancing was just one facet of your personality, it isn’t who you really are. It never defined you.”

I blinked back the tears that started to form in my eyes.

How could I explain to him that I’d never had faith inanythingexcept my ability to dance? Ithaddefined me. It had been everything to me, and I’d lost that ability in seconds.

“Thank you,” I said in a voice that was barely audible. “I want to believe that, but I think it’s going to take a while. Recovering from my accident was challenging, losing my career was a huge blow, and working for Leland and putting up with his abuse nearly broke me. It’s almost like I’m just waiting for the next shoe to drop. For the next horrible thing to happen.”

God, I hated to sound like I was whining, but it felt good to be completely honest with Ben because I knew he wouldn’t judge.

“Nothing bad is going to happen, Ariel. I’d like to kill Leland Brock,” he grumbled. “The last thing you needed while you were recovering was an asshole for a boss who kept on undermining your skills and your confidence. And I don’t even want to talk about him laying his fucking hands on you.”

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