Page 93 of The Wrong Fiancée

"You're beautiful," he murmured.

I felt his words all the way into my soul. I was starting to believe him. He wasn't just talking about the external but what was inside me.

"Now, I don't want you to lose your shit, baby."

"I'm not liking where this conversation is headed."

"I've been working on something," he started, his voice casual.Toocasual.

I cocked an eyebrow. "What did you do?"

He grinned that confident smile that always made me weak in the knees. "I secured a seat for you at NYU's art history program. You start in a month."

I sat up so fast I nearly knocked the lamp off the nightstand. "You did what?"

Dean's grin widened. "You heard me. Excited?"

"Excited?" I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my ears. "Dean, you signed me up for a degree program across the country without even asking me?"

He didn't seem surprised by my reaction.

"I thought you wanted to finish your bachelor's degree," he said innocently.

"Yes, but…NYU? It's freaking expensive, Dean, and…it's in New York," I screamed the last part out.

"Shh…you'll wake up the kids," he admonished patronizingly.

"Dean."

"Are we a team?"

I just glared at him in response.

"I believe we're a team. It's my job to support you and your job to support me. This is me doing my job."

I deflated. "Dean, how will this work?"

"I'm glad you asked, baby." He pulled me down to him and kissed me. I let him. "The program is mostly online, with one week per quarter in New York. We have a place there within walking distance of NYU. Since you're studying art history, Hale Moana will give you that week off as part of your development. Giordano Resorts will also pay for part of your degree."

I sighed and sat up again, feeling forlorn. "And you'll pay the rest, won't you?"

"Elika, I have a lot of money. Let me do this for us. I want you to be happy, doing what you love."

Tears filled my eyes. "I'll never be able to do anything like this for you."

Dean pushed himself up against the headboard and ran a hand through his hair. "Elika, this is not a quid pro quo. We love each other, and we take care of each other. Sometimes, that'll be me doing more for you, and other times, it'll be the other way around."

I crossed my arms, trying to calm myself down. "A team means making decisions together. This feels like you're pulling the strings, like you still see me as the girl cleaning hotel rooms."

Dean's expression softened, and he reached for my hand.

"There's absolutely nothing wrong with cleaning hotel rooms.And that's got nothing to do with me wanting to make your dreams come true. Say, I wanted something really badly, wouldn't you get it for me?"

He made a point. I hated it. But he did. If he wanted something and I could get it for him, I would, no matter what.

"I didn't do this because I think you need saving. I did it because I want to see you have every opportunity you deserve. I want to help you thrive."

I felt my frustration fade, replaced by a deep ache in my chest. He wasn't trying to control me. He was…loving me. In his messy, overbearing way, this was his way of showing me he believed in me, he cared for me…he loved me.

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