Page 97 of Trapped with the Billionaire

I stepped back. “How long would it be?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

I wasn’t settling for a non-answer. “How long?”

“Six months or so, but I’m not doing it.”

“Where?”

“Nebraska, but it’s irrelevant. I don’t want to go,” he said emphatically.

It was happening again. Except this time I would get advance notice of the guy’s departure. Josh had told me on the plane that his job sometimes entailed traveling around the country, but it hadn’t clicked, I guess.

He’d been the good son. The one who’d stuck around at the company when the others left.Don’twantto do something andwon’tdo something could be miles apart, especially when dealing with orders from his Dad.

I could feel the heat of my anger in my face. “Yeah, and how many times have you told your father to stick it, huh?”

His silence answered my question. He was the one who couldn’t say no. The one who valued duty above all else.

Hell, I’d felt the same way about carrying on the Rossi tradition, and still did. I’d always followed my father’s directions when it came to preparing to lead Rossi’s.

I stared Josh down. “Exactly what I thought.”

How did I have such rotten luck that the guy I find who isn’t a douche-nozzle needs to leave me? But, at least he wasn’t leaving for another woman.

“But that changes today,” Josh said.

I raised an eyebrow. “I heard your conversation. You didn’t tell himno.” He’d told me he was ready to break with his father, but when the words were needed, they hadn’t come.

Josh turned toward me and placed his hand on my shoulder, holding my gaze. “He wasn’t ready to hear it tonight, but I’m not going. That’s a fact he’ll have to deal with, because there’s something more important.”

“Which is?”

“I’m looking at her,” he said with eyes that wouldn’t let me go.

The pride I felt at his declaration battled the unease within me. What if crossing his father was a battle he couldn’t win?

“You’re saying you want to defy your father because of me?”

He sucked in a deep breath. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Why?”

His warm smile held me captive. “You figure it out.”

Heat rose in my cheeks. But he was implying pursuing something that couldn’t go anywhere. He’d be gone eventually—if not tomorrow, then in a little while, when his family duty finally weighed too heavily on him.

Needing space, I walked to the sink. I’d heard it from him on the plane—moving around the country, dealing with his father’s acquisitions was his job. I understood the pressure he was under. I’d dealt with it myself. Being the heir apparent at a family company was a duty that couldn’t be shirked, a skin that couldn’t be shed.

He followed me and held out his hand. “Now, it’s time we went to my place.”

I crossed my arms. “I told you. I’m not leaving.”

He went into the kitchen.

I followed. “It’s my house, and I’m not leaving.”

Walking over, he checked the deadbolt on the back door. “Then neither am I.” He moved to the window and double-checked the latch.

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