Page 3 of Burning for the Billionaire 7

My heart tightens with nervousness as I survey the place, because the beauty of the exterior does nothing to hide the ugliness I’ve experienced inside. “Yeah.”

After a beat, Rowan asks, “Are you ready to go in?”

I really don’t want to. Turning to him, I sigh. “No, but I have to. Before we go, I want to give you a little detail about the family first. To warn you, I suppose.”

He quirks one eyebrow. “Are they that bad?”

“Well, they don’t bite... in the literal sense. But they can come off as rude. I don’t want you to get offended by anything they say or do.”

“I don’t get offended easily.”

“Still, I want you to be prepared.” Hit with the realization that Rowan is only minutes away from meeting my family, I feel a sudden need to explain what he might experience with them. “Dad is an orthopedic surgeon. He’s done well for himself. He did what plenty of old-fashioned successful men have done—got himself a younger trophy wife.”

Amusement flickers across Rowan’s face. “I see.”

“My parents’ relationship lacks... affection. So, don’t feel weird if the temperature drops in the room when they’re together.”

Rowan nods. “Got it.”

“Dad is the intellectual type, and he talks down to people sometimes. Although, I don’t think he does it on purpose. He isn’t that bad. I certainly like him more than Mom.”

He laughs. “Alright, your dad can be unintentionally condescending. Got that, too. I won’t take anything he says personally. Who’s next?”

Twisting my hands together, I continue. “Then you have Mom, who’s very superficial. She puts a lot of emphasis on physical beauty. She was a socialite from a wealthy family. Never worked a day in her life. Well, she considers keeping up appearances and entertaining her wealthy friends as important work.”

Rowan grunts.

“Then there’s Isabelle, my older sister. She’s Mom reborn in the world of social media.” My dramatic sigh resonates. “Enough said.”

Rowan rubs his jaw—trying not to laugh, I suppose.

“My family is a bit much. They value money, beauty, and social status. Then there’s me.” I give Rowan a pained look. “I’ve never fit in.”

He blows out a breath and reaches for my hand. “I’m here with you and I’ve got your back. Okay?”

“Okay. Let’s get this dinner over with.”

We walk up the stone pathway to the front porch, hand in hand, because I need the comforting contact. We’ll have dinner with my parents and Isabelle, then I’ll return to Rowan’s hotel suite. Isabelle insisted I stay here—so she can have me close by to boss around, I bet. But I refused. I figure if I pretend this is just another getaway with my boyfriend, I’ll be able to keep my sanity.

On the porch, I ring the doorbell, still clutching Rowan’s hand. “And here we go.”

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