Page 5 of In Love with a Cruel Billionaire

Aunt Norah burst out, “Oh, for God’s sake! My old-fashioned English is not the main point here.”

Aunt Vilma lost it and I started to giggle. “Hooligan,Aunt Vi. Did you hear her say it?”

Aunt Vilma chortled, “I so did!”

It was a reprieve, a temporary one, and we all knew and allowed it. Maybe later tonight, when it was time for us to settle down with our own copies of our group bedtime story, we would talk about it again.

But for now, we were going to enjoy some harmless, adorable bit of normalcy.

Aunt Vilma and Aunt Norah were still trading insults and I stayed in my seat, enjoying my dinner as I listened to them one-up each other with the wittiest barbs. How, I wondered sadly, could those narrow-minded idiots ever think that these two wonderful women were whores and gold diggers?

They had made me believe in true love in the form of Greek billionaires.

Was that so wrong?

“Are you okay, Mairi?”

I started, realizing that both my aunts had ill-concealed looks of worry in their gazes. The sight of it made my stomach queasy because I didn’t like seeing them like that. I wanted them to be happy – tostayhappy because that was what they had succeeded in making me feel all these years, even if I had lost my parents too early.

Forcing a smile, I lied, “I was just wondering what book we’d be reading tonight.”

“Lynne Graham’s new one of course,” Aunt Vilma replied promptly.

“Oh, please. Not another one. Can we please switch to Sharon Kendrick for tonight?”

“Betty Neels would be good,” I piped in, just for the fun of it. I personally loved the author’s books, but my aunts found her work too “sweet”.

“There isn’t even a Greek billionaire in any of her books,” Aunt Vilma countered with a sniff. “She only writes about doctors and she’s not even part of Harlequin’s Medical Romance.”

“Plus, those men are too nice for my liking,” Aunt Norah grumbled. “They never act like jerks!”

Closing my eyes with a genuine smile this time, I let my mind drift once more while listening with half an ear to my aunts passionately enumerating the many reasons why they just weren’t the kind of women to fall in love with handsome, wealthy, and intelligent Dutch surgeons.

One day,I thought hazily. One day I was going to prove everyone wrong about my aunts. One day, I’d show the whole world that it was perfectly fine to dream about falling in love with a Greek billionaire because it could and would come true if you wanted it badly enough.

And I wanted it. Badly.

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