Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
And then he heard her whisper, “I started reading articles about you.”
The billionaire stared at her grimly. “Is that so?” There were only three types of articles written about him, and all of them tended to be one-dimensional. The most common type only saw him as the billionaire playboy and nothing else; the most effusive only cared about his entrepreneurial prowess, while the last—-
Ilse hugged herself at the billionaire’s cold tone, but she forced herself to continue, saying quietly, “Some of them describe you as the black sheep of your family.”
Ah. The billionaire’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Are you asking me if it’s true?”
“I’m not saying you are or aren’t something.” Ilse hated how she sounded like she was begging for him to listen, but she knew she would hate it even more if she didn’t try to make him see the truth.
And that was that he was right.
She did want him, had wanted him from the start.
But she also had Jan to think of, and it was for his sake that she couldn’t let any lies exist between them.
She made herself look at him. “I just want to know you more.”
“There’s nothing else to know.” The billionaire’s laugh was humorless. “I hate to keep disappointing you, babe, but this is it. This is me—-”
“Is it?” Even knowing that she was treading on thin ice, Ilse knew she had to go on. “Every time I look at you, I can’t help but feel that you’ve too many secrets—-”
“Says the woman who’s forbidden me to look her up in any way—-”
“It’s precisely because my life is such an open book,” Ilse answered painfully, “that I needed to keep you from looking me up. I don’t have anything to hide. I don’t have anything to pretend about—-”
The billionaire’s jaw clenched as Ilse’s unspoken but implied words hung in the air. “So you’re basically saying I’m a pretentious motherfucker, a coward who’s unable to face the truth—-”
“No!” Ilse was left pale-faced in horror at the way the billionaire had twisted her words. “It’s not like that at all—-”
But the billionaire cut her off, saying coldly, “It’s exactly like that, and it just shows that you’ve gotten something completely wrong...mevrouw.” All traces of teasing were gone from his voice, and just hearing it hurt because Ilse already knew – oh, she was so painfully sure of it – he was about to hurt her even more.
“I may want you more than any other woman—-”
Don’t say it, don’t say it, stop speaking—-
“But do not think that my desire for you makes you irreplaceable—-”
Ilse’s chest squeezed at the contempt in his gaze.
“Because it does not.”
And there it was, she thought numbly.
He had hurt her, and she knew, just by looking at him, that he had only started.
“Reading about me doesn’t qualify you to psychoanalyze me—-”
She was tempted to laugh, and she probably would have if her heart hadn’t started aching so badly.
“That you could even think you do when you’re nothing but a—-” He broke off.
But it was too late.
Ilse held herself very still. “Go on,” she heard herself say. “Finish it.” She had thought he was different from the others, but in the end, his true colors had been the same as theirs.
The billionaire wanted to smash something at the soft, neutral tone of Ilse’s voice.
Fuck.
He hadn’t wanted this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She wanted him, and he wanted her. It should have been that uncomplicated. So why the hell did she have to ruin it by pretending his family had anything to do with their desire to fuck each other?
“Finish it, mijnheer,” Ilse said tonelessly.
The billionaire’s jaw clenched, and at his continued silence, she released a little laugh, the sound leaving him cold.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
He knew then things might be over, completely over, before anything could even begin.
“Ilse—-” This time, his voice was tight and urgent, but she cut him off with a shake of her head.
“I’m not sure if you ever stopped to wonder about this,” Ilse said calmly, “but you’re not even the first or second person to assume my choice of profession has something to do with my IQ.”
Fuck. He had an inexplicable urge to get a list of those who had insulted her and kill them, but then he also knew he would probably top that list.
“But because you knew me better than they did, you turned out to be the biggest idiot—-”
The billionaire stiffened, thinking that this time the word ‘idiot’ didn’t sound sexy at all but downright insulting. “I know I’m the one who’s in the wrong here,” he gritted out, “but I’d advise you to take care with your words—-”
“Or what?” Ilse charged. “If I don’t do as you say, you’d what? Leave me?” Her lip curled. “That only works if I was ever with you – and I wasn’t.” Her voice was strong and proud, the expression on her face disparaging, but even though she had never looked more magnificent—-