Page 81 of Railing the Billionaire

“Or yachts?”

He shook his head. “Not even a fishing boat.”

I said, “I had no idea.”

“Why would you? Before our arrangement, I went out of my way to never share any pieces of my personal life with the public.”

Like the fact that he was a widower, or whatever it was he did with his time when he was hiding out and not wanting to meetwith me. Maybe he actually had a secret girlfriend or second wife or a whole harem of wives. Why hadn’t I considered any of that? Why had I allowed myself to get trapped in a mountain lodge with only one bed with a man who could be in a committed polygamous relationship?

“Are you married?” I asked.

He furrowed his brows and crossed his arms, all defensive stoniness. “No, Layana, I am not married.”

“How many girlfriends, spouses, paramours, and/or bang buddies do you currently have?”

“This is ridiculous.”

So twenty? Thirty? “Answer the question.”

“Zero.”

“What about Esme? Did she die?”

“Esme?”

“She’s your wife, right?”

His face contorted with disgust. “Esmeis my sister.”

“What?” Was he serious? He’d never looked more serious. Somewhere along the line, I’d crossed some information.

“You built that brick shrine for Esme, right? In your garden?” I asked.

“My grandmother and my sister like to have a place to sit when they come to visit. The patio isnota shrine.”

“Oh.”

He didn’t talk about his family to the press. And now he was being forced to share more of himself with the world, even if some of those pieces weren’t entirely real—i.e. me. He was putting himself out there with me now, and for this business merger thingy. Why?

I asked, “Why’s this business deal so important to you?”

“There is no better opportunity to see my goals come to fruition.”

Goals above comfort or happiness. I understood that to an extent, it’s what made me agree to this arrangement to begin with—suffer any torture in the name of my writing. Lucky for me, this trip wasn’t turning out to be so bad.

To keep it that way, I could try to make it as painless for him as possible, too. I’d been doing that with the social situations, but I could be nicer when we were alone. Maybe.

“I’ve secured us ski rentals for the day.” His jaw was tight as he spoke. “After my shower, I’d like to go, if that sounds acceptable to you.”

He wasn’t a widower, or committed to anyone romantically. And he was letting me into his life because he wanted to clean up the city we lived in. He wanted to do the kind of job his dad did, only on a bigger scale because he could.

He wanted to make the difference he could in the world.

I felt like I was in a daze, hit with a bulldozer.

“Skis.” I said, “Acceptable, yeah.”

He carried a large paper bag I hadn’t realized he was holding into the bathroom with him and shut the door.

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