Page 212 of The Billionaires

Frowning, she takes a picture of my license with her phone. “Now that’s in my cloud,” she says. “If you eat me, the cops will have some questions for you.”

Eat her? The part of my anatomy that she dubbed Yoda feels a great disturbance in the force, as if millions of vaginas have suddenly cried out in ecstasy.

Judging by her blush, she must realize the double entendre.

When I take the license back, my fingers brush against hers, and it’s like being hit with that Force lightning the evil Sith can shoot out of their hands. The energy flows right into Yoda—and unlike his movie namesake, my cock doesn’t harmlessly absorb it. Instead, I feel like Yoda may explode.

“Jane,” she says, and for some reason, her cheeks turn an even more delicious shade of pink. “Jane Miller. My mother is a huge fan of Pride and Prejudice.”

As we resume the walk, I ask, “The book or the movie with Keira Knightley?”

“The book,” Jane says curtly. “My mom couldn’t have named me after that movie because it came out after I was already born.”

“I’m not falling for that,” I say to Leo conspiratorially. To Jane, I say, “I want to make it clear—I wasn’t fishing to find out your age… Even if, by seeing my license, you already know that I’m twenty-seven.”

“What a gentleman,” she says with an audible eyeroll. “Since you’re dying to know, I’m twenty-three. Also, before you ask, I’m a hundred and five pounds.”

“I would never ask that.” I wonder if I should tell her she weighs exactly as much as Leo.

“I’m also five feet and three inches,” she continues. “Which makes my BMI nineteen and a half.”

“Seriously, I don’t need?—”

“My cholesterol is one fifty,” she continues. “I’m a Scorpio. My blood pressure is 115 over 75 most days. My shoe size is a five. Anything else you want to ask? If I have any moles? What my poop looks like on the Bristol stool scale?”

“I didn’t ask any of that, and you know it.” Though some of it will be pretty helpful if I make a life-sized statue of her—but I don’t mention this bit because she might twist it into something only a cannibal would say.

“Are we close to the store?” she demands.

I point at a boutique across the street. “There.”

She checks it out, then stops and shakes her head. “We can’t go in there.”

“Why not?”

She doesn’t seem like the type to be blacklisted for shoplifting, unlike one of the candidates the agency sent me.

“They sell the most expensive clothes in Manhattan,” she says. “They won’t let your dog in, and they will snub me, like in that scene from Pretty Woman.”

I grin. “If they do either, we’ll shop elsewhere and then rub their noses in all the commission they missed out on, like Julia Roberts did.”

For the first time, Jane smiles at me. “You’ve seen that movie?”

“I’m a movie fanatic,” I say as we cross the street. “I’ve seen everything. What about you?”

“I’m more of a book reader.” She pushes her specs higher up her cute nose. “Still, watching movies is something I do with my mom every chance I get, so I’ve seen many.”

There’s a pang in my chest. I’d give all my money to be able to watch a movie with my mom again, no matter how crappy.

“What kind of books do you like?” I ask before she somehow picks up on my thoughts and brings up something I wouldn’t want to discuss.

Blushing once again, she enters the boutique instead of answering.

Before following, I look down at Leo. “You have to be on your best behavior in there.”

Leo cocks his head.

What are the chances they’ll have a cat who dares me to chase it? Or a squirrel? Or my tail?

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