Page 53 of The Grumpy Billionaire
“What about you?” he asked, his tone casual, but his gaze sharp. “What do you want?”
I gulped the swallow of wine I’d just taken, sending a trickle of it down my windpipe. It took a good half-minute of coughing before I could manage to respond.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s been a long time since we’ve talked about that kind of thing. I know you used to want a career in news, maybe to work for the network someday. The fact that you’re here right now shows me that’s still true. But you also wanted a big family, a house full of crazy boys running around.”
He smiled, no doubt thinking of his own boyhood antics. “Has that changed?”
“Reid,” I warned, sensing an attempt to steer the conversation back to dangerous territory.
The two of us used to talk about our future for hours, debating the benefits of various numbers of children. We’d finally decided four would be perfect for us, though we wouldn’t start trying until we’d had a few years to get established in our careers.
“I don’t think we should talk about that.” I pushed the remaining bites of my asparagus around in the buttery sauce, avoiding looking at him.
It was natural, of course, for Reid to want answers about what had happened between us, but I couldn’t allow it. Not tonight after the magical afternoon we’d shared.
And certainly not after a few glasses of the excellent wine had combined with the extra dose of motion sickness medicine to soften my senses and perhaps loosen my tongue.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know I said I wouldn’t go there. But I can’t help my curiosity. Aren’t you the least bit curious about how I’ve changed in the past decade?”
I ventured a glance at his face. His eyes glowed softly in the candlelight, their blue-green color glinting with the golden reflection of the tiny flames.
Any changes in him had only been for the better—at least on the outside. I quickly looked down again.
“Of course I’m curious. I have been… for years. But…”
“But what?” His tone was coaxing, encouraging me to open up.
Slowly he reached out a finger, placing it under my chin and tilting my face up from its down-turned position. He waited until I made eye contact.
“Tell me, Mara.”
“I…” I was starting to get a little fuzzy on my keep-it-professional vow.
Would it really be so bad to just talk to him, tell him about the mind-searing fear that had overtaken me after we’d finally made love and my dad had warned me away from him forever? Tell him about the lonely years that had followed? The emptiness I still felt inside?
It wouldn’t change anything between us. I still couldn’t be with him. My dad hadn’t been making empty threats. He could still do tremendous damage to Reid.
Even if Dad didn’t follow through on it, Reid could certainly do damage tome. He was the epitome of the dangerously powerful man Mom had warned me against, and if anyone knew what she was talking about, it was her.
No, I couldn’t—couldnot—get involved with Reid. We’d survive the week, get the story done, and go our separate ways afterward.
But maybe Icouldhave enough courage to be honest with him, just this once, and then carry on with my life.
I would. My heart rushed up my throat, threatening to block the words from coming out.
“I didn’t want to know.”
Reid’s head cocked slightly to one side, his eyes narrowing a fraction. “About me? You didn’t want to knowanythingabout me?”
“I did, but I didn’t.” I shook my head. I was getting confused.
The wine, the medicine, sleep-deprivation, the soft rocking of the boat, the soothing rasp of his voice—all of it was working together to push this moment from conversation toward revelation.
That maddeningly soft voice continued to probe. “Because… you were trying not to think about me?”
He reached over and took my hand on the tabletop, stroking his thumb over the backs of my fingers.
