Home > Books > Terms and Conditions (Dreamland Billionaires, #2)(72)

Terms and Conditions (Dreamland Billionaires, #2)(72)

Author:Lauren Asher

I shake my head as Declan replies for us, “No, thank you.”

Declan’s hand breaks contact with my back as he pulls out my chair. I take a seat, and he pushes me closer to the table. Unlike other times, he doesn’t step away, but rather he leans forward.

His lips brush against the shell of my ear as he whispers, “You better be right about this.”

I shiver. “Have a little faith in me.”

“I’m a bit hesitant given your track record.” He chuckles, sending those butterflies in my stomach on fire.

“I take offense.”

“Forgive me.” His teeth graze the tip of my ear, sending another current of energy through me.

Is this part of the show? I’m extremely confused until I catch Declan’s eyes connecting with the reporter’s.

I release a pent-up breath as Declan pulls away and drops into his seat across from me. The weight of his stare presses against my chest like an anvil, making each inhale progressively more difficult.

I look past him only to lock eyes on the reporter. She types away on her phone, completely ignoring her date.

Something tells me she is taking notes.

Time to put on the show of your life. “I wish we were still on our honeymoon.”

Go along with it, I say with my eyes.

“I do too,” he says it without an ounce of sarcasm.

Huh. Does he actually mean that or is he lying to appease our audience?

The first thought makes me push for more. “Why?”

“Because it turns out vacations aren’t the worst thing in the world.”

“Told you!”

His lips curve at the corners, but he remains quiet.

“What changed your mind?”

He leans in. “Not having to think about anything but which way I wanted to fuck you next.”

My sharp inhale isn’t staged. Neither is the way my heart beats like a war drum against my chest. My eyes flick between his burning gaze and the reporter’s flushed face.

“What are you doing?” I lean in and whisper with a forced smile.

Although my gaze is locked on Declan’s, I can feel the reporter’s eyes tracking my every move.

He reaches out and tucks a braid behind my ear. “Selling a story,” he whispers.

“Then settle down, Romeo. This is a romance, not a porno.”

The way his eyes brighten has nothing to do with the candlelight. “Fine.”

He grows bolder with his touches as his thumb traces my bottom lip. It sends a rush of warmth through my body.

“So, I was thinking…” I speak louder, gaining the attention of my target.

“That can never be a good thing.”

I laugh as I shove his shoulder. “Shut up. We both know you actually like my brain.”

“I like your heart more.”

For someone who sucks at using anything but grunts and orders to communicate, he sure knows how to make my insides melt from a single sentence.

Except it’s all a lie. “That’s…sweet.”

His lips press together in a thin line. I wonder if he does it to stop himself from laughing aloud.

“Anyway…I thought we could do something fun this weekend.”

“Define fun.”

“I want to host a little family get-together.”

His eyes speak of a hundred unspoken promises. There is no way he will go along with this plan, but it’s fun to pretend for the reporter’s sake.

“What kind of get-together?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“An F1 watch party!” This time, my smile is genuine. The idea seems like the perfect way to help Rowan and Declan get over their disagreement. Plus, I would love to spend more time with Zahra, even if it’s only for a couple of hours.

“No.”

I frown. “Why not? Rowan will be in town for a budget meeting, so it’s the perfect time for all of us to get together.”

He avoids my gaze as he assesses his menu. “That’s our thing.”

The way he says it makes my body buzz. “If you had it your way, everything would be our thing so that you never had to share me with anyone else, you territorial caveman.”

“I’m glad you finally understand. It took you long enough.”

Through the corner of my eye, I catch the reporter smiling at us.

“You can turn it down a notch. We’re married now. No one is going to swoop in and take me away from you. Although…”

“Don’t.”

The reporter scoots her chair a few inches closer.

“I would leave you for one man and one man only.”

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