The Billionaire's Island Bride (South Shore Billionaires 3)

‘No. It’s all about a gondola ride.’

‘You’ve been on a gondola before,’ he said confidently.

‘No.’ She searched his face. ‘Why does that surprise you?’

‘For the same reason I don’t believe you need a free trip to Italy.’

He knew who she was.

She schooled her face, trying hard not to give in to disappointment. It wasn’t the end of the world. Her identity wasn’t a secret. But—did this mean what she thought it meant? The only way to find out was to ask.

‘Are you referring to the fact that my family owns the John Diamond Company?’

The intense look was back. Bemusement was there, too.

‘I am.’

‘Is that why I’m here, Mr Williams? Because of my family?’

The seconds ticked by. Eventually, he said, ‘It is.’

She sighed. ‘Wonderful.’ Paused. ‘Your attempts to butter me up were ridiculous, by the way.’ It was an immature comment, and nowhere near an appropriate response to what he was admitting or the implications of it. But he didn’t get a chance to answer her.

‘We’re about to take off,’ the flight attendant said behind her. ‘Can you please take your seats?’

She settled in a seat next to the window. Tried to steady herself by looking out at the city she loved. There was nothing on the tarmac besides a few other planes. Bright green grass was scattered beyond the tar, the dew of the brisk day settling on it. If she looked close enough, she’d swear she’d find ice sitting on the tips of the blades of grass. If nothing else, she was leaving a cold, wet South Africa for a sunny, warm Italy. If nothing else, she was leaving behind two men who thought they could control her life.

You’re thinking about letting them though.

She exhaled slowly.

‘I’ve upset you.’

They were in the air already, though barely, when Micah spoke.

‘No.’ She kept her gaze on the window. Outside it was all blue now, with white puffs of clouds around them. ‘Why would you think that?’

‘You insulted my attempts at cordiality.’

She almost laughed at the indignation in his voice. ‘So try harder next time.’

A strangled sound came from the vicinity of his seat. She allowed herself to enjoy it, but didn’t turn to look at him, or let him see her smile. It was a while longer before he said anything again.

‘I didn’t only ask for you to do this story because of your name, you know.’

So he had asked for her. Which meant that she likely hadn’t earned this assignment as she initially believed. And she was more helpless than she initially believed. It smarted, and the sting of it coated her tongue, slipping into her words, her tone.

‘I’m sure. It’s those pop culture articles I wrote, isn’t it? Speculating on who someone will end up with next truly does display the depth of my talent.’

‘I did enjoy the article about the ex-rugby player bad boy who faked a relationship but fell in love for real.’

At that, Elena turned to look at him. He was sitting on the only other seat opposite her, lounging back in his chair, watching her as if he had nothing else to do. Elena knew that couldn’t be true. The man ran an empire. His business had grown immensely in the ten years since he’d started it. His company sold luxury goods in Africa, primarily South Africa, and he’d recently partnered with two non-African brands worth millions to do that for. She suspected another brand would be added to that in Italy.

It was all part of why Elena’s newspaper had selected him as their Businessperson of the Year. She was supposed to be writing an article about how amazingly busy he was. There was no way he had time to converse with her.

‘You read that?’

‘I did.’