Page 78 of The Billionaires

The doorbell rings.

Lily frowns. “Everyone is already here.”

“That’s my butler,” I say.

A lot of eyebrows go up, and Juno chuckles. “Didn’t I tell you he’s got a butler?”

Lily looks very curious as she opens the door, revealing Elijah with a big tray.

Thanking him, she accepts the offering and says, “Why don’t you join us?”

Elijah takes a step back. “Oh, I don’t think it would be proper.”

More eyebrows go up, probably in response to the British accent.

“Nonsense,” Lily says. “You brought food; therefore, you have to come in.”

Elijah looks aghast. “This is the master’s food. I merely brought it.”

Lily makes puppy eyes at him. “Please? I wouldn’t enjoy dinner knowing you’re sitting alone in the car.”

Elijah throws me a questioning glance, and I nod as imperceptibly as possible. His joining us just might save me from committing a social faux pas that would otherwise jeopardize my intent to charm this family. He, being a butler, is much better at these things. Then again, most people are better at these things than I am.

“If you so insist, it would be my honor,” Elijah says stiffly. He reaches over and takes the tray from Lily. “Where would you like me to place this?”

Lily leads him through the living room, and the rest of the family follow, except Juno.

She steps up to me and whispers conspiratorially, “Just a heads up, my mom’s cooking is bad.”

I look down at her, eyebrows raised. “That’s not a nice thing to say.”

She sighs. “I know, but once you taste her so-called cooking, you’ll realize that ‘bad’ was the nicest word I could’ve used. ‘Beyond atrocious,’ ‘unimaginably horrendous,’ or ‘crime against humanity’ are more fitting, but because I love her, I showed restraint.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Your restraint is legendary.”

She narrows her eyes. “You’ve been warned. Just please take a sampling of her dishes and eat some, or if you can’t stomach it, at least smear the food around your plate so she can’t tell. And compliment her, of course.”

I peer into her gaze and instantly crave honey. “What kind of a monster do you think I am?”

She scoffs. “You know you can be blunt.”

“Me, blunt? You wound me.”

“It’s an unwritten rule in our family to let Mom think she can cook. If her dishes are the only ones uneaten, she might figure out the truth.”

Something occurs to me. “Is that why your grandparents brought food?”

She nods. “The official story is that they want to help out. That’s also why my dad makes a few dishes of his own for each event. In fact, when it’s not a big get-together, Dad is the one to cook.”

I chuckle. “Your mom doesn’t realize she’s bad at it?”

Juno looks horrified at the very idea. “She thinks her food is amazing. Dad has convinced her that it’s too good, and that he’d overeat and get fat if she made it all the time. So, ‘for his health,’ he cooks his ‘inferior’ dishes.”

“Very cute,” I say, my eyes roaming over Juno’s animated features. Without meaning to, I find myself leaning toward her, my voice deepening as I murmur, “No. Beautiful.”

She moistens her lips and steps a fraction closer as she whispers, “If I had a flaw, I think I’d want to know.”

Should I tell her about her many flaws? Like how her lips are too tempting for my comfort? How her intelligence made it impossible not to call her this week and keep my distance as I originally wanted? Or how her heaving chest is too fucking arousing, making me?—

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