Page 222 of The Billionaires

That last bit makes him wince. “I wasn’t trying to make babies when I wasn’t celibate. Piper’s mother—Sydney—told me she had an IUD. I also always used a condom.”

He grabs a piece of sushi with some yellow fish on top and chews it rather angrily.

“Sounds like Piper is a miracle,” I say softly. “I’ve got an IUD, and the doctor said it’s ninety-nine-percent effective.”

Adrian’s eyes widen.

Crap. Was that too personal?

Miss Miller thinks that topic of conversation never belongs in polite company. Ever.

Blushing to boiled lobster levels, I finish with, “A condom is less safe, but those two combined should make it impossible to get pregnant.” What I don’t mention are my mom’s reasons for getting me the IUD—to prevent me from ending up a teen mom like her. In Mom’s defense, she’s never said that having me ruined her life, but I think it’s fair to say that the IUD heavily implied it.

The irony of me staying a virgin thus far isn’t lost on me or my mom—but that also isn’t something I’d share with Adrian.

Actually, if there were a way to do it delicately, Miss Miller would make sure the gentleman is aware of her intact virtue.

Adrian looks around the empty restaurant, then whispers, “Between us, I later learned that the IUD was a lie.”

“She lied?” I gape at him, the enormity of what he said rattling my virginal brain.

“She did, and though I don’t have any proof that she poked a hole in a condom, I hope you can see why I might suspect that as well.”

“Why would she do that?” I ask incredulously.

“As it turned out in the aftermath, she wants us to be together,” he says with a sigh. “But I hope you agree, that was not the way to go about it. Especially when we’re such a poor match.”

“I’m not sure what to think,” I say. “Does she want your money?”

He shakes his head. “She’s an heiress. I think she just likes how everyone would perceive her if she married me.”

“I see,” I say, though I don’t. Not fully. “I still don’t get what any of this has to do with me.” Unless it’s a nanny gig, in which case he’s sharing way too much.

“Sydney wouldn’t let me see Piper unless we got married,” Adrian says. “I have since proven my paternity and can see Piper on a limited basis, but I want equal custody. I hope that’s reasonable?”

“Sure,” I say in the greatest understatement of all time. I would’ve given anything for the sperm donor who was my father to have wanted that. “I still don’t see?—”

“Her lawyers are going to do everything they can to make me look unsuitable at our upcoming hearing,” he says. “My so-called ‘promiscuous behavior’ is something they are likely to use… which is where you’d come in.”

“I’m still confused.” Does he want me to teach him how to not sleep around? My qualifications being that I’m a virgin?

“If I were to get married—and look to the world to be blissfully in love—it would provide me with an air of stability,” Adrian says.

No.

He can’t mean it.

He sets his chopsticks down. “Judging by your expression, you’ve figured out what I’m after,” he says, his voice brimming with concern. “And now there’s disgust on your face.”

I blush again. “It’s not disgust. It’s mortification.”

His shoulders sag. “That’s not much better.”

“I’m not saying no… not that you’ve asked anything yet.”

“Oh.” He straightens, eyes gleaming with hope. “In that case, let me formally ask you.” He gets out of his chair and goes down on one knee. “Jane Miller, will you do me the honor of pretending to marry me?”

Yep. I was right, but until he said the words, there was a possibility for a misunderstanding.

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