The Billionaire's Game(12)

Asha looked up at Kade, so shocked that she could barely speak. “I can’t pay for these right now.”

“They’re a gift. I don’t expect you to pay for them,” he growled, affronted.

Pulling the nightgown from a bag—which also included new toiletries, jeans and shirts, new drawing pens and a drawing pad—she stroked the silky material. It was pretty and feminine, a beautiful pink that would cover her entire body modestly. Everything female inside her wanted to don the nightgown, feel the silk of the material caress her body and make her feel feminine. But she finally told Kade, “I can’t take these things. They must have cost a fortune.”

“I said it was a damn gift,” he said almost angrily. “And it didn’t cost a fortune. It’s just a few things you need.”

“I’ve never really had a gift,” she murmured softly, continuing to stroke over the soft material of the nightgown, unable to look at Kade because her eyes were filling with tears. “And I don’t even know you. I can’t accept this.”

“You will accept because you need them. And how is it possible that you never received a gift? Never?” Kade asked in a confused voice.

Asha shrugged, still not meeting his eyes. “I just never have.”

Kade moved closer, reaching out a large hand to gently tip her chin up. “Then let me explain the protocol. You thank me sweetly and accept what I give you so you don’t hurt my tender feelings.” Giving her a lopsided grin, he added, “A thank-you kiss or hug would be appropriate.”

Asha impatiently brushed away a tear that escaped from her eyes, staring at him in indecision. He’d helped her so much, possibly saved her life by getting her medical treatment. How could she take anything more from him? Conversely, she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Although he’d mentioned it in a joking kind of way, rejecting gifts that he’d bought for her specifically might hurt him. He’d looked so excited when he’d given her these gifts. “I’ll pay you back,” she told him, deciding it was a good compromise. She did need the items, but he’d spent way more than she’d ever be able to afford. Obviously, he liked top-of-the-line products.

“Asha…you are not paying me back. A gift doesn’t require repayment. I wanted to pick these up for you. It’s no big deal to me. Understand?” he answered in a low, warning voice.

“It’s a lot of money. Can you afford it?” She blurted out her anxious thoughts aloud before she could censor them.

His gaze went from intense to amused. “I think I can swing it comfortably,” he answered, unable to keep the laughter out of his voice.

“Be serious,” she said anxiously. “I don’t want to hurt you financially. You’ve already done so much for me, paid my hospital bills—”

“I’m a billionaire. I’m half owner of Harrison Corporation. Plus, I was a professional football player for eight years and made millions from my contracts, which I invested well.”

Asha had already assumed that Kade wasn’t hurting for money…but his words shocked her. “Then why are you here? Why are you helping me?” Why would someone with that much money waste any time on her?

Kade lifted a brow, a gesture that looked both questioning and admonishing at the same time. “What? Just because I have money should mean I don’t do favors for friends or family? It means I should be a prick to a woman who’s sick?”

Well…she hadn’t meant that...not exactly. She let out a soft sigh and gave him an apologetic look. She was being judgmental because he was wealthy, and there was nothing she disliked more than making untrue assumptions. “I’m sorry. This whole thing just seems so unusual. I don’t know any rich people, but I’d think that they wouldn’t spend their time tracking down unimportant people they didn’t know.”

“You aren’t unimportant, and I was available since I’m not able to play football anymore. Max needed to spend time with my sister or he would have come himself. It’s personal to him. He wouldn’t have sent an employee to talk to you.”

Asha ran a hand over the laptop, admiring the shiny, new surface. How long had it been since she’d had anything brand new? She bought everything secondhand at bargain shops or thrift stores, conserving every penny. But his gifts touched her, and meant so much more than the money he’d spent. It was almost as if he was encouraging her art career by giving her the laptop, the phone, and drawing supplies. “Thank you,” she finally murmured. “This means more to me than you’ll ever know. But I am paying you back for my hospital bills and the medicine. I don’t care how rich you are,” she finished stubbornly.