Page 92 of The Billionaire's Demand

‘How did you cope?’

‘I was already working,’ she pointed out. ‘I just had to find somewhere smaller, cheaper, work a bit more.’

He made another noise. ‘Always as a cleaner?’

‘Actually,’ she said wistfully, ‘I got a job as a kitchen hand at first. I had big dreams of applying for an apprenticeship, becoming a chef.’

‘Why didn’t you?’

‘I couldn’t afford it,’ she said with a shake of her head.

‘The degree?’

‘No. The apprentice salary was so low, and I wouldn’t have been able to work as many hours and study. It just wasn’t tenable. I always told myself “one day”, but then life just gets away from you sometimes, doesn’t it?’ she remarked quietly. ‘I’m twenty-six years old. It was just a pipedream, anyway.’

His brows drew together and Libby shook her head.

‘Please stop looking at me like that.’

‘Like what?’

‘As though you feel sorry for me. I hate it.’

Surprise showed on his face for a moment, before he contained it. ‘I think you got the raw end of the deal,’ he said after a beat.

‘But so do lots of people. I’m happy, Raul. Really, I am. I like my life and I liked my job. It’s not what I dreamed of, but I make it work.’

‘I’m sure you do.’ His voice and expression were now even more unsettling than the pity he’d shown a moment earlier, because Libby heard admiration in his tone and it pulled at something deep inside her, something she preferred to keep locked away completely. ‘Is your mother still in Brisbane?’

Libby shook her head. ‘She passed away a few years ago.’

Raul’s eyes glittered as he waited for Libby to express an answering emotion to that statement.

‘I was sad I didn’t get to see her again, before she died. I often wondered if she regretted...well, lots of things,’ Libby said with a humourless smile. ‘I wonder, sometimes, if she missed me.’

‘Your mother sounds like a selfish woman.’

It was a fair assessment. ‘In many ways, yes, she was.’

‘It’s unlikely that someone like her is capable of feeling regret. I’m sorry.’

Libby laughed then, a soft sound of surprise. ‘Don’t be. I appreciate honesty.’

‘I know you do,’ he said quietly, then, to lighten the mood, pointed to his plate. ‘This is honestly one of the best meals I’ve ever eaten. Thank you for making it for me, Libby.’

Warm pleasure flooded her veins and Libby smiled across at him, already wondering what she might cook next. But that was a silly thought. A red herring. They weren’t a couple, and this wasn’t the beginning of some kind of happy domestic relationship. It was nothing like the dreams she’d cherished—where she’d meet someone who swept her off her feet for real, not like her mother’s silly, unstable relationships.

Despite the fact Raul was charming and Libby had enjoyed sharing a meal with him, she knew she couldn’t lose sight of what they were doing.

It wasn’t until Raul had cleared the table, and Libby had made some hot drinks and put out a tray of biscuits, that they got around to discussing the finer points of the contract. Libby was quick to admit to Raul how thorough he’d been.

‘It’s what I do,’ he said, dismissing her praise.

‘Write contracts?’ she asked, curling her legs up beneath her on the sofa, one hand wrapped around her cup of tea.

‘Make agreements,’ he clarified, tapping his pen against the papers. ‘Did you want to make any changes?’

She shook her head. ‘I haven’t sent it to the lawyers you hired for me yet. I don’t really see that I need to.’

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