Terms and Conditions(Dreamland Billionaires #2)(65)

“I’m enjoying the view.”

She glances out the window. “Says the man who hasn’t even looked outside once.”

“That’s not the view I’m talking about.”

Her eyes find their way back to mine. I’m startled when she drops her head back as a laugh explodes out of her. It’s rough and raspy, drawing the attention of multiple patrons. Warmth rushes through me at the sound despite knowing her amusement is at my expense.

By the time she looks back at me, her eyes have a watery shine to them and she can’t seem to take enough deep breaths.

My hand tightens around the glass as I take another chug. “What the hell was that?”

She dabs at the corners of her eyes. “The reporter left. You don’t need to pretend anymore.”

“I’m not pretending.”

“That’s…concerning.”

“I don’t see it as such.”

“No.”

“No?” What the hell is she even talking about?

“No,” she speaks with a firmer voice this time. “That’s not how this is supposed to go.”

“How exactly is this supposed to go?” I won’t admit I’m confused, but damn I feel it. Everything about her confuses me. From the pinched feeling in my chest whenever she laughs to the draw I feel toward her at all hours of the day.

“We work together.”

“And?”

Her deep sigh echoes the one building inside of me. “We have a deal.”

“Are you stating the obvious solely to annoy me?”

“Of course not. I’m simply pointing out the stakes. There is far too much riding on our relationship for us to screw it up because we’re horny and confused.”

I don’t miss the way she says we, although I think she did.

“I’m not confused. Far from it, actually. I know exactly what I want.”

“And what is that?”

“You.”

The way she laughs makes me want to stifle it with my lips against hers. I settle on latching onto her hand, which sobers her enough to stop laughing at my expense.

She tries to rip her palm out of mine, but I hold on.

“This has to be some kind of sick joke.”

The muscles in my jaw ache from the way I grind my teeth together. “How so?”

“You can’t want me. Not like that at least.”

“Why not?”

“This isn’t meant to be anything but a contractual obligation.”

“It’s what we say it is.” I trace over the diamond on her finger, drawing a sharp breath from her.

Her eyes widen. “Oh my God. Are you actually suggesting that we hook up?”

I’ve always been a straight shooter—to a fault. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to.”

Her bitter laugh sends a wave of uneasiness through me. “Then I’m sure it will be extremely difficult for you to accept that my answer is no.”

“Why waste time denying what we both already know?”

“Because the last thing we need is to further complicate things.”

“Hate to break it to you, but our relationship is nothing but complicated.”

“No, Declan. Our relationship is nothing but a fa?ade.”

Her words land their blow, and I’m struck speechless as I process her words. She stands and grabs her purse. The small smile she shoots my way feels all kinds of wrong. I don’t want her to leave. That much I know is true, yet she doesn’t seem to acknowledge the silent plea in my eyes.

“I think it’s best if we pretend tonight never happened. For both of our sakes.” She bends down to kiss my cheek, and she might as well have burned the impression of her lips onto my skin. “I’ll meet you in the car. Take your time.”

A tightness in my chest grows with every step she takes away from me. I hate the feeling sprouting inside of me like a weed, tangling around my heart like a vine, almost as much as I hate Iris walking away from me.

Tonight might not have gone like expected, but I am not the kind of man to admit defeat.

I plan. I act. I conquer.

Iris might have rejected my first offer, but I will rise to the challenge and prove just how good things can be between us if she were to give me a chance.

Our marriage might be fake, but these feelings burning inside me are anything but. It’s only a matter of time before I make her mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.





The car isn’t even parked before Iris escapes the garage.

Harrison opens my door with his lips pressed together.

“How long have you been married for?” I exit the car and button my jacket.

His head rears back like I have never spoken to him before. We might not be confidants, but he has been my driver since before I ever had a license. Of course I interact with him. He even has my personal number strictly for coordination purposes.

“Forty years and counting.” He smiles to himself as if the idea pleases him.

“Willingly?”

As opposed to what? A contractual agreement like yours?

He laughs. “She might say no if you asked her.”

My head tilts. “Why?”

He looks at me as if he’s questioning my IQ. “Because marriage is hard, and apparently I’m not the easiest person to get along with. Plus, I snore.”