Page 105 of The Billionaires

He lets go of my wrists to cradle my face in his palms. “I love you, Juno. I need you to know that. I know I don’t deserve it, but I want you to date me. For real this time. I hope that over time, you also?—”

“I love you too, you idiot!”

“What?” he says, and I don’t think he’s making fun of my earlier “what?”

I cover his hands with mine. “I said ‘you idiot.’”

“Fair,” he agrees. “But before that?”

I dampen my lips. “I love you, Lucius. I’ve been falling for you all this time. I knew it when I realized that you’re a cactus. My cactus. Then, when we?—”

He silences me in the nicest way possible—with a kiss.

A sweet, gentle one that makes me believe he really means his words—as earth-shattering as they are. Swiftly, the kiss turns R-rated, our tongues mating hungrily as he drops his hands to my hips and pulls me to his aroused body.

And then he pulls away and sneezes. Twice.

I step back and give him a stern onceover.

Yep. He’s covered in cat fur, and his eyes are not looking healthy. At all.

“We need to get you out of those clothes,” I say. “And into a shower.”

His gaze heats up. “Will you join me?”

I pretend to sigh. “If that’s what it takes.”

EPILOGUE

JUNO

I’m so giddy with excitement I’m worried I’ll pee my pants.

It’s not just the fact that I’m about to officially become a University of Florida alum. Or that my whole loving family is here for my graduation.

No. The main source of my glee is the man giving away the diplomas up on the stage.

The man who flew said family here on his private jet.

Lucius.

My real, official boyfriend who was asked by the university to perform this honor because he’s become a celebrity here in Gainesville due to—among other things—all the jobs the recently finished Novus Rome has created.

Ruefully, I glance down at my outfit—a shapeless black gown.

Not my best. Not when I much prefer wearing sundresses when I see him, with sandals that accentuate my feet—because I know the latter drive him mad.

Then again, maybe this outfit is fine. Maybe having my feet—and everything else—hidden is enticing. Maybe we could incorporate this gown into a bit of roleplay tonight? I could be a naughty Supreme Court justice. Or a?—

“Juno Lazko.” The words boom ominously over the big speakers.

My mom elbows me in the ribs, in case I’ve grown deaf.

Jackknifing to my feet, I float to the stage on a cloud of endorphins and adrenaline.

The closer I get to Lucius, the more powerfully my heart flutters.

Our life is about to be different.

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