Page 66 of The Billionaires' Prize

“Same.”

Wrapped in each other, we stare, sharing a quiet moment of mutual longing.

“Pesky jobs,” I say.

“Pesky,” he agrees.

“Check your calendar.” I walk him to the door. “So we can plan our date.”

He unlocks the door, and a thrill zings through my veins. How like him to keep me safe while letting me have the fantasy that anyone could have walked in on us.

He really is amazingly thoughtful. And so observant.

“Can’t wait,” he murmurs in that husky tone I like so much.

He presses a quick kiss to my lips and then opens the door, striding out with my underwear still in his pocket.

Two hours later, when I’m on the elevator, Roman at my side, I realize I really can’t wait to see Alex again. I certainly don’t expect him to cancel plans for me. I know how busy he is, and I know what to expect from a C-level. At least, I think I do.

“She’s expecting you,” my mother’s assistant says, waving me into the office.

I’m keenly aware that Alex kept my panties, but I did my best to put myself back together after our lunch break.

Mother looks up from the stack of papers on her desk and quickly tucks away her reading glasses. I fight to keep an even expression when what I really want is to roll my eyes. Billions of people wear glasses. Why should she be any different?

But she wants everyone to think she’s young and infallible.

“Katherine. . .” She pushes back from her desk and strides around it. Unlike me, she kept everything just as her father had it. Her office is practically a Chanler & Cort museum. The desk is too large for the space. Too large for her. And the leather chair is cracked and worn thin in spots, showing just how much time my grandfather spent here. As you’d expect, the air is stale and smells of a chemical cleaner.

“Charlotte said you wanted to see me.”

She sweeps me into a hug.

It’s automatic to hug her back, but her embrace is quick, with T-Rex arms that barely wrap around me before pulling away. A cloud of her expensive perfume remains, proof that she did, in fact, embrace me.

I blink like a confused owl.

Honestly, I couldn’t tell you the last time my mother hugged me. But after two days with Alex, Gabe, and Kingston, I understand the difference between this and a genuine connection.

They’re free with their affection. Touchy-feely, even.

Her lips turn down as she studies me and for a second, maybe less, I see the real her. She’s genuinely concerned. “I’ve been so worried.”

I lace my fingers in front of myself and struggle for even breathes and a neutral expression. My muscles, however, lose the battle of neutrality, and I make a mental note to schedule an appointment with my masseuse.

Is this how it’s going to be for the rest of my life?

A battle? Stomach aches and barely contained frustration making me vibrate in my stilettos?

“Here I am,” I say because I can tell she’s waiting for a response.

“How are you?” She starts to reach for me again, but it’s like she thinks better of it and her hand falls away.

My brows lift, and a little voice in the back of my mind sounds a warning. This is a new tactic from her. Showing concern isn’t something she’s troubled herself with in the past.

“I’m fine.”

Her chin lifts, and though her expression doesn’t change, I can read her mind. She wants more from me. More words. More emotion. Anything she can use.

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