Stranded with a Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #1)(58)

She was beautiful. Her long, chestnut hair was tousled around her face, her small nose pointed up in the air, her lips slightly parted in sleep. She wore her favorite T-shirt and jeans: Audrey had complained to him that she couldn’t persuade Bront? to part with them, no matter what lovely clothes she was bought. He liked seeing Bront? in jeans, he had to admit. Her ass filled them out nicely, and the T-shirt showed off the rounded swells of her small br**sts to perfection. He pulled the book off her chest, and her eyes opened slowly.

Bront? blinked and focused on him, then smiled, her expression sleepy. “You’re home early, aren’t you?”

“I am. I canceled the rest of my meetings.” He didn’t tell her that it was because he’d been unable to concentrate on anything but her that day. They’d made love fiercely the night before, but when she’d come, she’d been utterly silent. She didn’t whisper words of love anymore when they had sex.

And for some reason, he wanted to hear her say it again.

Logan smoothed a lock of hair off of her cheek. “I have a present for you.”

She sat up on the couch, frowning, one leg tucked under her, and ran a hand through her hair. “Present? Why?”

He forced himself to be indifferent and held the envelope out to her. “No reason. I just wanted to give you something.”

“You’ve already given me enough stuff, Logan.” But she obediently took the envelope and opened the clasp, pulling out the contract inside. She stared at it, puzzled, then looked back at him. “What’s this?”

“It’s the paperwork for the diner. There’s three of them, actually. One in Kansas City, and the other two are in Dallas and Atlanta. They’re yours.”

Bront? looked down at the paperwork in her lap, then back to him. “Why?”

Her reaction didn’t tell him anything. “What do you mean, why?”

“I mean, why give me a diner? What’s the point?”

“It’s a gift. Income. You can live off of the profits, if you want, or you can work on improving the chain. I’ve set up a meeting with the consultant so he can go over what he’s learned so far and suggest improvements. You—”

She held up a hand, giving a small shake of her head to stop him. “Logan, I don’t understand.”

“It’s an expensive gift,” he pointed out, frustrated by her mulish responses. “Most people would say thank you.”

“I guess I’m confused. Why do you think I’d want the diner?”

“So you can make something of yourself.”

She stiffened. “You mean, so I can be something other than a waitress?”

“Something like that,” Logan said.

The papers smacked his chest. Bront? leapt to her feet. “Keep the diner.”

She didn’t want it. Didn’t want his money. Elation surged, and Logan watched her get up and cross the room. “You don’t want it?”

She didn’t answer him.

She was . . . angry? Logan got to his feet and followed her down the hall. She stormed into one of the guest rooms, and when he followed, he noticed she was emptying one of the closets. He noted her stiff shoulders, her furious movements.

And that she had a suitcase open.

“Where are you going?” he asked, frowning.

“You said I could stay as long as I wanted,” Bront? said, her voice tight. “This is as long as I want. I’m done here.”

“Why? His voice was harsh. Anger rocketed through him. This was completely irrational of her. “You’re mad because I tried to give you a gift?”

“No,” she cried, turning to face him. “I’m mad because you think I’m not good enough for you. Are you embarrassed that I’m a waitress? Is that why you’re trying to turn me into some sort of diner tycoon?”

“What? No. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Then why would you do such a hurtful thing?” Her eyes shimmered with tears.

“Bront?,” he said, his voice soft. He moved to draw her into his arms, but she stiffened and pulled away. He’d made a mistake, then. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. I’m not embarrassed by you.”

“Then why give me the diner? I never said I wanted it.”

“It was a test,” he confessed.

“A test?” Her voice rose an octave in response. “A test? What sort of test?”

He remained silent at that.

Her eyes widened. “Oh, my God. You think I’m after your money. Like Danica. Is that it? You’re testing me to see if I want it.”

Logan’s jaw tightened. “It’s not like that.”

“It’s exactly like that,” she said bitterly.

“I love you, Bront?.”

“You do now,” she bit out. “Now that you realize I don’t want your money. Well, news flash, Logan. You can’t withhold love as a reward. You either love someone or you don’t. Money plays no part in this.”

“Money always plays into things, Bront?. That’s not fair—”

“You’re not being fair,” she said, viciously slamming her suitcase shut. “And I hate to say it, but Danica was right.”

“Danica doesn’t have anything to do with this—”