Heart of the Billionaire (Taming The Bad Boy Billionaire 7)

“That’s a very good question, James. What is going to happen now?” Nick asked with a smirk.

The two shared an indecipherable look before James cleared his throat and turned to Arabella with a pleasant smile. “I’m not sure, honey. It isn’t exactly mine.”

Ferdie then parroted the, “Ahem,” sharply in the background but tried to pretend he didn’t when James swiveled around to give him a dark look.

On the other side of the table, Abby picked up a napkin and dabbed politely at her mouth, barely muffling, “Sure looks like your name on the side of the building.”

“Thanks.” James set down a basket of rolls with a bit more force than necessary, rattling the silverware as he glared at his friends. “Thanks for that.”

Clearly, they’d had that discussion many times before, to no avail, and just as clearly, everyone in James’s life was in absolute agreement as to what he should do—everyone except James himself.

“Well, if it isn’t really yours, can’t you just buy it?” Arabella asked with the wide eyes of a child whose billionaire father had lived his life by that very philosophy. “If you don’t have enough money, I’m sure Daddy can give you some.”

James shot her an indulgent look but was quick to shut that line of questioning down. “The company’s not for sale...and I have far more money than your daddy.”

She twirled a fork in her noodles, creating a cyclone that took up her entire plate. “One of you is fibbing. Daddy said he has way more money than you.”

“Does he now?” James and Nick shared a hysterical look before each turned deliberately away. “Well, dear, that’s a point of great contention between me and your father.” James pointed at her plate and picked up his wine. “Eat your salad.”

Aside from the little rocky bit in the middle, I could honestly say it was one of the best dinners I’d ever enjoyed. James held my hand under the table the whole time, and Nick and Abby bickered and teased. Arabella threw so many noodles against the pristine windows that I thought Ferdie might actually have a miniature stroke. I didn’t exactly come from a home that boasted many family dinners, but that was exactly what it was, even if we weren’t technically blood related and even if a swarm of media was laying siege outside and there was a bodyguard posted by the elevator door. And even if the meal itself was catered by an upscale London restaurant. All of that aside, it was a family dinner, and what was more, I was somehow a part of it.

By the time the plates were cleared and Arabella was finally banished to bed, I had even gotten her official

stamp of approval.

“Uncle James?” She tugged on his sleeve, leaving a smear of chocolaty fingerprints in her wake.

He leaned down immediately. “Yes, love?”

“I like Della,” she whispered in his ear. “She is special, like you said.”

A tender smile softened his face as the two of them stared secretly up at me.

“Thank you. I like her too.”

She hesitated for a long moment, then decided to take a child’s approximation of the moral high road. “If you want her to be your girlfriend, that’s all right too, as long as you save me a seat beside you for dinner...and as long as I’m still your favorite.”

James laughed softly, then kissed her on the cheek. “You’ll always be my favorite.”

With a little grin on her face, she scampered off to bed, with Max trailing behind her. The man might have sworn a blood oath to jump in front of a bullet for Nick and Abby, but his level of devotion to their child was on a whole other level, and I couldn’t blame him in the slightest. Arabella tended to have that effect on people.

James watched her disappear up the stairs, then placed a hand over his heart and dropped his head back against the chair. “Just give her to me already! I’m tired of asking!”

“Not a chance.” Abby laughed. “And she’s not for sale, no matter which one of you has more money!”

“Are you sure?” James lifted his head with a sarcastic grin. “If it’s a matter of price, Nick can apparently loan me some.”

Nick threw back his head with a burst of laughter. “What did you expect me to do when she asked? Lie to my own daughter?”

“Lie?!”

Abby threw her napkin between them like a white flag. “As someone who’s heard that riveting discussion at least a million times, let me be the first to say shut up.” The four of us laughed before she rested her eyes curiously upon James. “I would, however, be interested in an answer to her other question, the same one I’ve been asking myself for a long time.”

The table abruptly quieted as all eyes fell on James. I felt his hand stiffen in mine, and he dropped his gaze quickly to the table, shifting uncomfortably under the sudden spotlight.

“The board, James?” she prompted. “You actually stormed in there and submitted your candidacy in front of the board?”

I felt his pulse racing in his wrist as the walls around us seemed to close in.