Page 3 of One Billion Reasons

“How are you?” His eyes are softer now. I trace over his face, so familiar to me, and yet, still stunning. Those full lips are sinful, those grey eyes uncanny.

“I’m freezing cold, and I want to finish this shoot.”

He frowns. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“What do you want, Miles?” I’m hot under my coat, and I unzip it to let in the cold. He makes me feel unsettled. He’s scanning my expression, looking for something. His eyes dip to my body, and anger flashes across his face. His lips press together in a thin line, and when he meets my eyes, his are stormy.

“How are you, really?”

I stare at him. “Why do you care?”

“I haven’t talked to you in a long time.”

“There’s a reason for that.” I press my lips together, before I say something I’ll regret.

“Right. You told me. I never want to speak to you again. That’s what you said, isn’t it?” His eyes are flat, cold. All his warmth from earlier is gone.

“That’s what I said.” I can distinctly recall that night at the hospital, my eyes burning with tears and my nostrils full of the scent of antiseptic.

“Okay.” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his suit. “I guess we’ll just stand here in silence until my fiancée comes back.”

I flinch at the word fiancée. He sees it. I can feel his eyes on me. He’s cataloguing my reactions in his hyperaware mind.

“What’s wrong, Lane?”

“I just had no idea you were engaged.” I dig my nail under the label on my camera strap.

He smiles without humor. He loves having one over on me. He always has. “I think congratulations are in order, don’t you?”

My eyes flick to his. They’re grey like a storm cloud, roiling with dark emotions. When he’s happy, they look like silver. But he hasn’t been happy in a long time, if the deep grooves by his mouth are anything to go by.

“Congratulations,” I say woodenly.

“Real convincing,” he sneers.

“I don’t need to convince you,” I shoot back. “Let’s just get this over with. The faster I’m out of your presence, the better.”

His eyes flash. “With customer service like that, no wonder you’re doing so well.”

Irritation simmers in my gut. How does he know our business is hanging by a thread? Liam. Liam must have told him. I told him not to tell Miles anything. He and I will be having a long conversation after this.

“I don’t want to discuss my business with you.” I don’t want to talk to you at all.

His face hardens even further. “Scared I’ll give you some valuable advice? You should charge more for the shoots, by the way. Only twenty-five grand? People would pay more.” He looks casual, cold. Giving me business advice on a lark. When for me, this is everything.

“Telling me what to do. As always. When are you going to understand that I don’t want your advice?” Because it’s never just advice. There’s a heaping side of criticism.

“Well, you could use it,” he says acidly.

“I’m sure you’ll tell me how I need to be more focused on money, right?”

“It’s worked for me thus far,” he retorts. His voice has an edge to it that makes my fists clench.

“Right. You’re a millionaire now. How could I forget?” I roll my eyes. “Heaven knows I’ve tried.”

“Billionaire.” His voice is low, and I shiver. “I’m a billionaire now.” He steps toward me, and I force myself not to take a step back.

“Yes, well. You were always disturbingly obsessed with making money. So, congratulations, I guess.”

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