An Accidental Date with a Billionaire

As she caught sight of him, she stumbled back, eyes wide.

“Wow. You’re absolutely stunning,” he managed to say.

Funny, though, his voice sounded foreign.

“Thanks.” She blushed. “What are you doing here, Taylor?”

She was a princess. A goddess. The woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with…and he couldn’t seem to string two words together coherently. “I mean it. You’re far too beautiful to be seen with me at your side. You deserve better than me.”

She stepped back, letting him in. “Let’s not be dramatic.”

“I love how you always call me on my bullshit,” he said as he closed the door behind him.

She stiffened and turned away.

“I brought you something.”

She faced him. “I don’t want anything from you.”

“Here.” He handed her the calendar. “Open it.”

She stared at it, then flipped it open to the current month. She lifted her head, her forehead creased with confusion. “What—?”

“See those circled dates?”

She lowered her head again. “Yeah…”

“Those dates are days I think we should go out together. Dinner, a movie, a show, whatever you’d like. It’s up to you.”

She stared at the book, trembling, and slammed it shut. She set it down on the coffee table, not looking at it again, even going so far as

to put some distance between her and the planner. “Taylor…”

“Don’t say no. Not yet. Think about it,” he said, smoothing his tux and stopping her from whatever rejection she had been about to slam down. “How have you been?”

“Fine,” she said, her voice hollow.

He gritted his teeth. “I hate that word.”

“Sorry.” She crossed her arms and faced him again. She always did that when she was nervous, as if the gesture could somehow protect her from anything he might say. “I went dancing with Izzy last night at some loud, smelly club. Some dude invited me back to his place.”

Jealousy hit him hard. He had no right to be jealous, though. He’d lost that right when she broke up with him. And yet…he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Did you go home with him?”

“No.” She lifted her chin, squaring her jaw. “I could have, though. I could have gone home with him, had sex, and tried to forget about you.”

Relief punched him in the gut, warring with the pain that had been his constant companion since losing her. “I know.”

“Why are you doing this?” She tightened her grip on her arms. “Why invest in that company and plan this whole thing?”

“Because you changed me,” he said quietly. “I want to do better. Be better. I want to save some companies, not just rip them apart. I want to be a man who is worthy of you.”

She sucked in a breath, lowering her lids. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” he asked, taking another step.

He was close now—close enough to smell her floral perfume and shampoo. Something clamped around his heart, squeezing, and it was hard to breathe.

“Talk like that,” she said, her voice cracking. “Nothing has changed. We can’t just pick up where we left off.”