Taming The Bad Boy Billionaire Box Set 1 (Taming The Bad Boy Billionaire 1-3)

“For the time being. She’s battling cancer. Gosh, I bet you’re just thrilled you started talking to me. I’m the most depressing person ever.”

“No. But you may have the worst karma,” he said. “Sorry, I was attempting to make a joke, and it was in poor taste. As my humor normally is. I hope your sister gets well. Responds to treatment. Shit, what’s the appropriate thing to say about cancer?”

“Fuck it. Fuck cancer. That’s the appropriate comment.”

“Did you just say fuck to the CEO at the office?” he asked.

“Yes. I did,” she said.

“Then fuck cancer. It’s taken too many excellent people.”

Then Luke Conners did the strangest, most unexpected thing. He hugged her. Quickly swept her against him, squeezed her tight and released her. She felt startled, excited, and almost stronger as if he’d braced her up somehow.

“Should I call HR? Because you totally grabbed me at work,” she said. “I was joking. In poor taste, of course. It’s only fair.”

“It is only fair, I agree. So, what can I do to get that offer back on the table?”

“Did you think sending me shoes would work? Because they’re gorgeous, the prettiest thing ever. But I can’t accept them.”

“Do they fit?”

“They fit. Absolute perfection. But I can’t accept such an expensive gift. It creates an obligation like it’s in exchange for my cooperation.”

“What if I’m only trying to make you like me?” he said archly.

“I already like you.”

“I thought I was a douchebag.”

“You are sometimes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like you anyway,” she said. “But really, the shoes. It’s too much. Let me give them back to you.”

“But I won’t look good in them.”

She laughed. “I’m sure you wouldn’t look good in them. But you can get your money back. Or they might give you a refund on a gift card you can use. Seriously.”

Paige got the box out and tried to hand it to him. He shook his head.

“No, I gave you a pair of shoes, and you gave me truth serum evidently. I told you more about my family in the last five minutes than I’ve told any other woman I’ve,” he paused and ran a hand through his hair.

“I think the euphemism you’re looking for is dated,” Paige offered.

“Indeed. Please keep the shoes. If at some point you decide you like me well enough to reconsider becoming my fake wife, that would be most helpful.”

“That’s so...formal. Clinical even. Most helpful? It’s hard to reconcile the romantic and thoughtful gifts with the icy logic and prep school manners, Luke.”

“Then my contradictions can be the thing that captivates you most about me,” he said.

“You’re not serious. The most I could say for your contradictions is that they’re confusing. I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Entertainment value. The possibility of an engagement charade.”

“Why would you want me? When you can get that British guy to find you someone who’s less of a mutant and not your employee? Like, why give me flowers and shoes like it matters who it is?”

“Because you’re not boring.”

“What?”

“You’re surprising and refreshing in the best possible way. You stalked into my life barefoot and full of opinions. I haven’t been able to think properly since I saw you,” he said.