Page 28 of The Billionaires' Prize

I want that. For her and for me. “Kat?—”

Why is it so hard to put all the feelings ping-ponging inside me into words? And then push those words past my lips?

Lucky for me, she knows me. She knows my quirks and loves me despite them. But fuck, she deserves the world. Or, at the very least, a partner who can articulate his feelings.

Is that why she likes Gabe and Alex? Can they express themselves more easily?

“I’ll check my schedule and get back to you about dinner. Are you thinking this week?”

I nod.

“Sounds good.” She backs away, her gaze lingering in a way that makes my chest tight. Then she stops, and I hold my breath. “I really am glad you’re here, King.”

God. This woman. A handful of softly spoken, completely earnest words have the power to undo me. Because I know she doesn’t trust easily. And for good reason.

I want her trust and her heart.

“Me too.”

She smiles and then steps around the peninsula. Gabe’s voice is quiet and rough, and I can’t make out exactly what he says, but I catch the word ‘upstairs.’

I bite back my snort. I thought he was headed out right after I was. So much for that.

Instead of marching in there and asking the two dozen questions peppering my brain, I focus on putting the frozen items in the freezer. Fruit in the bowl. Jerky in the pantry.

Ding.

The elevator doors open. Close. I try not to picture the reason the two of them are suddenly quiet.

I fold the paper grocery bags and try to decide my next move. I’ve never really shared her attention before. Even when she was dating, none of those men were permanent fixtures in her life.

This feels different.

Gabriel and Alex claimed her in a very public way.

They’d better mean it. Better not be fucking with her. But if they are. . .

Think positive, Saint.

For her sake.

“I’ve got some calls to make,” she says from the end of the counter. She put her shoes away and pulled her long locks into a high ponytail. “You know where everything is? Make yourself at home.”

If I did that, I’d be sleeping in her bed instead of on the couch, but rather than say that, I nod.Don’t spook her.

“Yep. I’m gonna grab a snack and hit the gym for a bit.”

“Sounds good.” Then she disappears into her home office, leaving me to work myself into a lather over the whole situation.

What would that even look like? Dating two men? Not unusual. How about three?

And all at the same time?

And when things get serious, and they seem to be getting serious fast, then what?

High society is brutal on the most normal of occasions.

I brace my hands against the polished stone countertop and stare across the living room to the skyline. A tiny little thrill races up my spine because, for the first time in a long time, I see possibilities and not obstacles. Things to be climbed, rather than box me in.

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