Page 21 of The Billionaires' Prize

“They’re sure?” she asks, scanning the message again before looking up at me. “If she’s that bad off, she couldn’t have sent you pictures, right? Do you think she needed the money so badly she’d commit fraud?”

“I don’t know.” I take the phone from her and shake my head. “This wasn’t on my bingo card. I had all sorts of other theories, but nothing this dire.”

She shoots me a knowing smile. “Of course you did.”

“Now I just have to wait to hear back and try not to drive myself crazy with ‘what ifs.’”

Her nod of understanding settles me. I’m not totally off my rocker for being so bothered by this. Luckily, I’m not worried about the installments I’ve paid. It’s the delay. The letdown. Feeling like I was finally getting to a point where I could relax a bit and enjoy the results of my work and sacrifices.

I take a quick screenshot of Wallace’s text and forward it to Alex. I can already hear his hum of displeasure.

“It’s just. . .” I put my phone away, propping a hip on the back of the sofa, thinking back to when I first stepped foot in the house. “I wanted a place to get away, and I didn’t want to hand everything off to my assistant. I was going to be hands on and involved, pick out tile and all that stuff I’ve always been too busy to do. But you know how it is. Life gets busy. The occasional text kept me in the loop, and I thought it was coming together.”

She reaches over and covers my hand with hers.

“Feels silly,” I mumble. Being upset over a house. Some money. Especially given what my designer is going through. “Trivial. Frivolous.”

“You were excited to make a home. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Her soothing words and the earnest look in her eyes crack me wide open. For the first time since Friday night, I don’t feel the gaping disappointment and ensuing guilt over the state of the house and the fact that I had no idea what was and was not happening on my own property.

“That’s it exactly.”

“You’ll get it sorted out. The lawyer and investigator will do their thing, and then you’ll find a new designer. It won’t be the original timeline, but it’ll work out, and you’ll have the sanctuary you wanted.” She gives my hand a squeeze. “The best things are worth the wait.”

Boy, is she right.

My friendship with Alex. College. My company. Every milestone, achievement and experience. All the best things in my life were worth the wait.

Maybe I shouldn’t be so eager for the next steps. But then, I’ve always been driven, planning for the future. That energy pushes me to succeed. Maybe there were things I missed because I was pushing so hard?

Something to think about later.

I need to get up to my home office and check-in, but I can’t resist leaning over and lifting her chin.

“You’re right.”

“I know.” She smirks, but then her gaze drops to my lips, and she goes dreamy-eyed, relaxing against my touch.

“I’m starting to wonder if you’re always right.” I trace my thumb over her lower lip. “Are you always right, Princess?”

“Maybe.” The corner of her sultry mouth tugs up in an impish grin.

I bend down, hand braced behind her, and brush my lips across hers. The whisper of a kiss isn’t nearly enough. I immediately want more.

I sink my fingers into her hair and tug her head back. Her lips part with a sigh, and pleasure ricochets through me. I deepen the kiss, pouring all the emotions I’ve been feeling into it. My tongue traces the line of her lips, and I wonder if she can taste herself.

Her hands slide over my shoulders, down my chest, exploring, memorizing. When her cool fingertips slide beneathmy shirt and trail across my skin, my gut tightens, and I lift my head.

She blinks up at me with so much lust in her eyes.

“Dazed is a good look on you.”

“Is it?”

“I’ll just have to keep you this way.”

“Oh?” Her hand skates up my side, accidentally tickling me, and I bite down on a laugh. “How do you plan on doing that?”

---