Borrowed Billionaire #5 Set it on Fire Read online

Page 6


  I fumbled with the keys, but the door pushed in, unlocked.

  Then my panic was replaced by a whole new dread: I'd been broken into.

  I pushed open the door and nearly yelled “Fire!” but didn't.

  Candles were everywhere. And red stuff on the floor. Rose petals. On everything.

  Grace was there, hands clasped together in front of her.

  “Welcome home,” she said as she scurried past me, toward the door.

  I said, “What are you doing here?”

  In answer, she just squeezed my hand and leaned in to kiss me on the cheek.

  “Enjoy it, sweetheart,” she said, and she darted out the door, clicking it shut behind her.

  I wheeled around, gawking at all the candles, on everything.

  When I turned back, Luthor was down on one knee.

  I nearly peed myself.

  I yelled, “No way!”

  He pulled a box from his jacket pocket.

  “Lexie Ross—”

  I interrupted him, yelling “No way!” again.

  He rubbed his nose and waited for me to calm down. I squatted and got down on my knees in front of him.

  “You're supposed to stand,” he said.

  Nearly whimpering, I said, “I can't. My legs won't work.”

  He smiled sweetly, then continued, “Lexie Ross, you came into my life and everything changed. You organized me. I didn't think I deserved someone as good as you. Someone so beautiful and smart and strong and sexy. I still don't think I do, but Lexie ...”

  My voice was trembling. “Yes, Luthor?”

  “Lexie, if you'll take this ring and agree to be engaged to me, and then married to me, if you still like me, maybe in a few months or in a year … whenever you're comfortable, I'm going to try so hard to be the man who deserves your love.”

  My breath caught in my throat. Time was standing still, but it couldn't be, because the candles all around us were still flickering.

  “Lexie, I love you. Will you marry me?”

  It came gushing out of me. “I love you! Oh, Luthor, I do. I'm not just saying that because you did, but I really do.” I crashed into him, wrapping my arms around him. “I love you.” I was sobbing now, crying.

  He repeated it, his mouth near my ear. “I love you.”

  We clutched each other for some time, both of us kneeling, just inside the door of my condo, not even in a proper room, but in the space between the kitchen and living room.

  I pulled away from him, exclaiming, “The ring!”

  “I didn't forget. It's right here.”

  He handed me the box. My hands were shaking as I opened it.

  As you can imagine, the ring was gorgeous.

  In fact, it was too nice.

  I had him take me to the ring store the next week and we exchanged it for something I could actually wear in public without being embarrassed. You see, I'm adjusting to the lifestyle of being with a billionaire, soon to be married to a billionaire, but the transition doesn't happen overnight.

  While I was waiting for my ring to get sized, we started talking about the wedding. All the details that had to be organized were sending me into an organization frenzy. Luthor tried to talk me into eloping, but we decided to quasi-elope, with just a few friends and family.

  Which is why we're here, in Indonesia again.

  His parents should be here by now, I imagine, and they'll be in their own villa as well. We've met, and I get along with them, but I can't say I'm not nervous about marrying their son. Luthor says not to worry, that we're marrying each other, not our families, so I'm going to trust him and not freak out. Yet. Once I'm walking down that makeshift aisle, seeing the looks on everyone's faces as they figure out this isn't an engagement vacation, but the actual wedding, I may simply implode.

  Luthor and I have talked a lot since that night we first said we loved each other. He really meant that part about not thinking he deserved me. He said that ever since he was young, he figured he'd end up with some trophy wife who only loved the wealth, and that he thought he'd feel empty forever. When he got to know me, he realized there was this pit inside him, and the only way for him to fill it was to care about other people. He cared about his staff and his family, but he really felt whole when he fell in love with me.

  Fell in love.

  I didn't get the chance to declare my love for him in quite so dramatic a way, what with the surprise engagement, but I try to show him every day, even in small ways. We do argue sometimes, as we're both headstrong, independent people, but we never go to sleep or part angry.

  Sometimes I have terrible dreams—not often, but everyone gets a nightmare now and then—that we're not together, and I'm sad and lonely and don't know why. Just as I'm waking up, I remember my life, remember that Luthor and I found each other in this big world, and that it was just a dream. That feeling, of going from heartbreak to happiness, is one of my favorite things.

  Tonight, we're going to have such a blast. Whether my mother cries or faints, or expected this all along, she's going to flip out when she meets our special guest. We've flown in one of her favorite singers to sing the first dance for us, kicking off the party right after the ceremony. The woman wasn't cheap, and personally I find her music a little melodramatic, but it suits the occasion.

  The water has turned off in the bathroom, and here's Luthor now, clad in only a towel, wrapped loosely around his sexy hips. Since the great wax-off, his hair's grown back in, and I love it. I love every inch of him.

  He's checking the time now, and telling me we have a little time before the ceremony starts.

  “Time for what?” I ask.

  He drops the towel and nods for me to come over. At the sight of him, my body prepares to welcome him inside me. My flower begins to throb and ache for him. We just made love a few hours ago, but I hunger for him, as though it's been months.

  “Are you sure we have time?” I ask.

  “They can't start without us.”

  “You make a very convincing argument.”

  He leans his head to the side and gives me an adoring look. “Got you to marry me, didn't I?”

  “Not yet, you haven't.”

  He pulls down the coverlet and sheets on the bed. “Come on over here and let's see you try to resist.”

  I go to him, without hesitation.

  * THE END *

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