The Billionaire’s Forbidden Desire(42)
“You won’t.”
“Let’s say I do.”
He shrugged. “Fine. What if you win?”
“You owe me two hundred bucks, plus you’re to treat me fairly, instead of like I’m the antichrist or something.”
He snorted. “I’ve never treated you that badly.”
“Yes, you have. So what are we betting on?”
“Something that requires skill. I hate games of chance.”
“All right.”
He gazed out the windshield, his eyes narrowed. “How about a race?”
“You mean like a sprint?”
“Distance. A few miles.”
“You’re a foot taller than I am, and besides, you run all the time.”
He considered. “Swimming?”
“Can’t. Bad shoulder. And you’re still taller.”
“Hmm. Something that will negate the height advantage,” he said, thinking about it. “How about ice-skating?”
Ice-skating? She pretended to mull the idea over. “That would be…acceptable.”
“Then why don’t we go a few laps at a rink? Whoever’s faster wins.”
She gave him a sidelong look. “You’re going to embarrass yourself.”
“I doubt that very much. I used to play hockey.” His smile was full of superiority and insolence. “Can you even skate?”
She pressed her lips together so she wouldn’t laugh. He was delusional if he honestly believed hockey would give him better speed and edge control than she had. “I’ve been known to strap on a pair every now and then.”
He arched a skeptical eyebrow.
Yeah, keep that eyebrow cocked while you still can. You’re going down. “Let’s make it challenging. Twenty laps forward, twenty backward.”
“Fine.”
She grinned. “You’re on.”
* * *
Dane grabbed a buttery bacon-and-egg-stuffed croissant and a giant, extra-espresso latte from the cafeteria and went into his office. Artery clogging be damned, he thought. Given the kind of night he’d had, he deserved it.
Sleeping in the room next to Sophia’s turned out to be a challenge. It would have been nice to blame his lack of sleep on the fact that he was under his father’s roof, but he hated lying to himself.
It was her.
At least she hadn’t snuck down the hall to Salazar’s room at night. He was a light sleeper. He would’ve heard it.
But the nightmare would be over soon enough. He settled at his desk and went over the agenda for the day, then checked his emails.
As soon as he finished his croissant—which coincided with the simultaneous deletion of over two hundred messages he wasn’t even going to acknowledge—Blake came in. He was the oldest of the Pryce-Reed cousins, a partner at the firm, and the only person Dane considered a friend. The shape of Blake’s eyes was much like his father’s, but he had the famous Pryce profile, something he’d inherited from Geraldine. Combine that with his dark hair, he looked more like a Pryce than a Reed, which probably soothed Geraldine.
“Do you know who your new assistant is?” Taking a seat, Blake gestured at the door with a huge tumbler that read, Want a piece of me?
“Of course I know. I hired her.”
Blake blinked. “You’re kidding. She’s the Sophia.”
“The one and only.”
“You know it’s going to upset my mom. She still hasn’t forgiven Betsy.”
“It would’ve upset her more if Salazar had hired her instead.”
“Salazar? What’s the story there?”
Dane leaned back in his seat. “What are you doing in L.A.? I’m sure you didn’t fly out here from Boston just to talk about my new assistant.”
His cousin had an office in the city, but didn’t spend much time there. He was too busy splitting his time between Boston and Washington D.C.
Blake sipped his coffee. “I was, but then I figured I should be in L.A. Mark’s wedding and all.”
“That’s not for another two weeks.”
“Yeah, but Dad’s getting married again. Being on the east coast means having to watch him with Future Wife Number Six. I’d rather not.” Blake shuddered. “I’m not even sure she’s finished high school.”
“I sympathize.” Of all the shit Dane had had to deal with, watching his father with numerous wives younger than his children wasn’t one. “He wants all the Pryce-Reeds to attend the ceremony?”
“Yes, plus the twins. They’re looking for a reason to stay away.” They were the children Betsy had given Julian—another slap in the face as far as Geraldine was concerned.
“So. When are you moving out?” Blake asked.