Terms and Conditions(Dreamland Billionaires #2)(49)
“Want is a bit of a stretch. But I am willing.”
I grin. “Be ready by 5 a.m.” I walk across the deck and pull on the handle of the sliding door.
“Iris?”
This time, I turn around and press my back against the glass. “Yes?”
“If you try to leave me again, I’ll make you regret it.” The slight rasp in his voice does something catastrophic to my lower half.
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s a promise.” His face remains blank, but his eyes rival the stars above us.
I blink. Somehow I pull myself together and nod before leaving the deck.
Declan’s words follow me all the way back to my room, but it’s not until I shower and crawl into bed that I realize what struck me as odd about what he said.
If you try to leave me again, I’ll make you regret it.
Not quit but leave him. Such a strange choice of words for submitting a two weeks’ notice, but I believe Declan considers them one and the same. I think he would see me quitting as a slight against him. Maybe he would even go as far as to consider it some kind of betrayal after all these years.
He doesn’t need anyone. Cal’s voice plays on repeat in my head.
Except maybe me.
19
IRIS
Unlike yesterday, Declan is already waiting in the main living space for me at 5 a.m. Sharp.
“You’re late,” he grunts.
I groan. “By two minutes.”
“Here. Let’s go.” He slaps a Styrofoam coffee cup into my empty hand.
I blink at it. “Thank you?” I take a sip and sigh as the first dose of caffeine hits my throat.
He makes a noise with the back of his throat. “No need to thank me. Offering you caffeine is solely for my personal benefit. It tends to make you much more compliant.”
My jaw drops. “Excuse me?”
He doesn’t bother answering me as he exits the bungalow.
“Someone is mighty eager to get going today,” I call out to him after grabbing my backpack with all my supplies. The sun hasn’t risen yet, so I’m stuck sticking close by Declan’s side, using the lamps on the dirt path to guide us toward the meet-up location.
“The sooner we get out there, the sooner we get this over with.”
“Please keep your excitement to a minimum. I’m afraid the experience won’t live up to your hype.”
He shoots me a withering glare.
Someone is in a foul mood this morning. One would think I’m taking him to the electric chair with the look on his face. We make our way over to the main lodge, with me sipping my coffee along the walk. Declan seems determined to get to our destination as fast as possible, forcing me to match his speed.
I don’t have legs like a giraffe, so I slow to a normal walking pace before my legs give up from exertion. “What’s your hurry?”
“They said to be there at 5:15 a.m.”
“It’s a vacation, not a doctor’s appointment. They can wait a few minutes longer.”
Declan mutters something under his breath. I make a show of pulling out my phone and taking a few dark photos of some plants. He hates every second of it. His boots drag across this dirt path, tracking dust behind him as he taps away at his phone.
“What happened to taking the day off?” I ask.
Our eyes clash. Neither one of us looks away.
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, with an attitude bigger than the state of Texas.”
“I must not be trying hard enough if there’s still Alaska to compete with.”
His comment makes me curl over and laugh until I wheeze. Most people find him dry, sarcastic, and downright unbearable to be around for long periods of time, but I find him funny. Sarcasm might be considered the lowest form of wit, but I find it the most entertaining. I’m not sure what that says about me though.
I stand and collect myself. “How about we call a truce?”
“A truce?” He raises a brow.
I nod. “Let’s spend a day pretending the rest of the world doesn’t exist. No work. No Yakura. No regrets. Give me one single day of your time without any of the other stuff bogging us down.”
“What do I get out of this?”
Well, that isn’t exactly a no. “You get a happy wife who won’t suffocate you in your sleep tonight.”
“Think about it often?”
My grin makes my cheeks ache. “Depends on what true crime episode I’m inspired by that night.”
He presses his lips together, stopping a grin from ever forming. I can imagine he has a beautiful smile, but I wouldn’t know. I’ve never seen it. Not in all the years I’ve worked for him, despite all my best efforts.
“Fine. But only because I don’t think you would survive a day in jail,” he replies.
“You’re right. Orange is so not my color.”
And I swear Declan laughs on the inside.
By the time we make it to the truck area, I’ve drained the entire cup of coffee and feel much more like myself. The safari driver and guide both greet us. Neither of them complains about us being a whole ten minutes late, and I silently mouth told you so to Declan while they prep the truck.