Page 93 of The Billionaire's Fake Wife
"Not." I raise my cigar to my mouth. My fingers are rock steady. "I know what I am doing, but do you? Considering the £150,000 you spent on this cigar—"
"Its £500,000…" His cheeks hollow as he takes a puff, "per smoke stick."
"Hmm." I narrow my gaze, watch him through the fragrant cloud. Bastard outdid himself on this one. He never did know when to stop.
"Consider it my gift." He raises his cigar in a mock toast. "After all, it’s not every day that my worst enemy gets married."
I snarl.
"Sorry, I mean,” he air quotes, “ ‘mock married.’ " He speaks out of the corner of his mouth, "Without any kind of paperwork to cushion the fall."
Luckily for him, I ignore that last part. "It’s not going to distract me from my ambitions, nor take away my instinct for business."
He chuckles, "I think thou doth protest too much."
I bare my lips, "We’ll see, shall we?"
