Page 61 of The Billionaire's Marriage Dare

Christian: Guess what, pet? H has a new update, and it’s absolutely naff because of you. I hope you check it out. Or maybe I don’t. The thought of what I’ve done is threatening to emasculate me.

Christian: Actually, I’ve made up my mind. Forget about it. Just remember I love you, and I’m always here for you.

Jane didn’t even hesitate. She logged in to her account in H, and as soon as the game’s version was updated, a pop-up notification came out to inform her about the latest ongoing contest in-game.

Retweet this message: #ILoveYouJane – Christian Ravenhearst

Reward: One bonus point

Tweet why you think Jane Cooper and Christian Ravenhearst make a good couple.

Reward: Two bonus points

Tweet suggestions on how H’s developer can get his ex-fiancée back.

Reward: Five bonus points

She remembered how Christian would do his best to repress his revolted shudder at the slightest suggestion of adding a romantic angle to H.

If people want a bloody love story, then they can look elsewhere for it, but H won’t be ever like that.

And yet here they were.

Jane began to run.

“I’M LEAVING NOW,” THE café’s owner, a sixty-year-old widower, informed Christian. “You’ll be okay here?”

“I’m good,” Christian answered from his usual spot at the counter facing the window, which had a pretty good view of Jane’s apartment building.

Barry shook his head as he took his apron off. “You’re one determined gentleman, Mr. Ravenhearst.”

Christian’s lips twisted. “But what you really want to say is that I’m being a fool.”

“As you should be, since we’re all fools in love.”

The door swung shut after Barry, and Christian watched the older man walk away through the window before returning his attention to his laptop. He had been scrolling through messages from H’s players for some time now, and so far their suggestions on how he could win Jane’s heart had ranged from the ridiculous to the downright impossible.

Butt spelling I Love Jane was stupid enough, but the player had also gone on to suggest that it could only be authentic if Christian added a hashtag. Butt-spell a fucking hashtag symbol? He might as well tear his ass into—-

The sound of the door swinging open interrupted his thoughts, and without looking up, Christian murmured, “We’re closed, sorry.”

Silence.

He frowned.

And then—-

“You’re right,” an unsteady, achingly familiar voice said. “It was absolutely naff.”

His head jerked up.

And there she was.

Christian. She couldn’t stop thinking his name now. Christian, Christian, Christian. And oh God, but it felt so good.

He was still as handsome as she remembered, but thinner, too, and the realization pinched her heart. A smile wobbled over Jane’s lips when Christian continued staring at her like he was seeing a ghost. She started towards him, slowly, because her legs were shaking so hard, and Christian’s expression remained stunned.

When she reached him, he still didn’t say a thing, and she asked teasingly, “Are you going to ask me if I’m real?”

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