Page 41 of Billionaire Unreachable: Wyatt

Because I’d been married to an asshole who had been a good con man, I’d learned that everything you see on the exterior meant next to nothing.

Me:No need. I did a video today. I just need to warm up the food. I’m heading back to the house soon.

Wyatt:Make sure my security is on your ass when you do.

Me:Yes, sir.

Wyatt:I’m not even going to consider that you might mean that seriously. You’re never that compliant! You’re mocking me.

I was, and he knew it, but only in a good way.

The man really needed to learn to mellow out.

Me:You’re Wyatt Durand. Do you think I’d ever dare to mock you?

Wyatt:In a fucking heartbeat. Everything go ok today?

My heart tripped when I thought about how many times he’d asked me that since the break-in.

The guy was busy all day, with people constantly wanting a piece of him, and he was already doing so much for me.

It still amazed me that he even had time to think about me during his workday, but he did.

He checked in with me frequently when we weren’t together.

Me:Everything is fine.

Wyatt:Good. Keep it that way.

A laugh escaped from my lips, and I reached up a hand to cover my mouth before people around me started to wonder what I was laughing about.

But that comment was so…Wyatt.

Strangely, I always seemed to be the only person who noticed that his grumbly and abrupt comments weren’t really all that foreboding.

Me:I’ll do my best. I hope you’re having a good day.

Wyatt:I made a lot of money for Durand. That makes it a good day.

I rolled my eyes. He was never going to convince me that he was completely financially driven, no matter how hard he tried.

Me:Does it?

Wyatt:Of course. But it will be even better when I’m sampling whatever incredible dishes you created today.

Me:It feels great to be wanted only for my food.

I was joking…sort of.

There was a hesitation before he replied.

Wyatt:Do you want me to tell you that I’m looking forward to seeing you, too?

I nibbled at my bottom lip.

We’d spent a lot of time talking in the evenings. Getting to know Wyatt Durand was like unpeeling an onion. It was a slow and difficult process, but with each layer I uncovered, I got to like him even more, which was probably dangerous. I was already so physically attracted to him that it was difficult not to think about how desperately I wanted to climb into his lap and explore that enormous, muscular body of his.

I’d also been more honest with him about myself than I had been with anyone in a long time.

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