Page 21 of The Billionaire's Beauty

“Did you forget?” I ask urgently as our smiles fade.

She hesitates, her eyes widening. “No.”

The fact that she admits it gives me courage.

“I know we said no regrets,” I tell her, my words spilling out like water over Niagara Falls. “But I regret agreeing to this bullshit arrangement. It’s not working for me. You’re all I think about. I hear your voice. I feel you on my skin. I taste you in my mouth—”

Her breath hitches.

“Griffin…”

“Don’t tell me you don’t feel anything. Don’t do that to me.”

There’s something hopeful enough in her expression as she opens her mouth that I experience a wild surge of excitement. But then she hastily turns away and reaches for that damn briefcase again, producing a legal pad this time.

The only thing saving me from abject despair is the slight tremble in her hands that makes the paper flap.

“I won’t force you to go through the seating chart,” she says in her professional office voice. “But we have a couple of cancellations. You definitely want to hear about those.”

“Absolutely,” I say, slumping against my seat and somehow swallowing my impatience even though I now feel sick inside. Sick. But this is not all about me and what I want. Bellamy is uncertain. I can’t blame her for that. She needs time. I can be patient. The thing I cannot do? Let this go. “As long as you understand that this conversation has to happen. Sooner or later.”

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