A golden eyebrow arches. “Go on and brag. I don’t think modesty is your strong suit.”
I laugh.
“If you’re so good at cooking, what about me?”
“It was never your forte.” Maybe it is now. I don’t know. And that makes me sad. I could’ve known. I could’ve known everything about her.
“Not cooking. I mean other things. I must be good at something,” she says.
I chew on the shrimp and consider. Then I finally pick the one that matters the most. “You have the power to make people happy.”
She snorts. “Oh, come on.”
“It’s true. You have the power to inspire others to become greater than they thought possible.”
She blinks, then giggles. “Okay, now I know you’re outright lying.”
“Not lying. You’re the one who made me who I am. The billion-dollar empire I built? The papers say I did it because I had great business foresight or drive or whatever. But at the end of the day, it wasn’t the foresight or drive. It was you. I wanted to build it for you.”
I don’t tell her that it was initially for revenge. Because it’s also true that one of my biggest drivers was to become her equal in every way and never have people look at me like I didn’t deserve her because of money. I wanted to be able to stand tall and proud, knowing whatever she had, I did too…and whatever she wanted, I could buy it without a second thought.
Most importantly, I don’t ever want to lose something I desire because I’m weak…and money is power.
“That’s such a nice thing to say,” she whispers, her silvery gaze soft.
“Don’t look at me like that. All I did was tell you the truth.”
And I’m glad she doesn’t remember the cruel words I flung at her. This is my chance to give her sweet memories so when she finally remembers everything, she’ll also know we’re capable of civilized conversation and…more.
She polishes off dinner and pats her belly, sighing contentedly. A bone-deep satisfaction warms me. She needs to gain back the weight she lost, and it feels good to know I’m the one feeding her.
This is another reason she shouldn’t go back to L.A. Her mom would be bitching about her eating carbs and gaining weight. Fuck it. I’m toasting her bagels for breakfast tomorrow. If she wants, she can eat bagels every damn day. I’ll make sure of it.
Eyes closed, Elizabeth sips her drink. After a while, she starts smiling a secret smile.
“What are you thinking about?” I ask, loving the utter lack of tension on her face. It’s so different from how she was, nothing like the brilliant and polished smile she showed to the world as a society queen.
“Just daydreaming.” Her eyes still closed, the grin widens. “This is the kind of place I’d want for a proposal. Just the two of us—and the beautiful sea…and probably the moon and the stars. If the weather’s bad, I guess a storm would be okay, too. There’s something awesome about a good storm, don’t you agree?”
I inhale sharply, feeling like I’ve been kicked in the gut. The food I had turns to cold rock in my stomach. She’s imagining romantic things that never happened because of my lies about us being engaged. I didn’t realize how much it would twist me to hear her talk about it.
She looks at her left hand, probably wondering what her engagement ring looks like. If we were really engaged, I would’ve replaced it immediately, and I would’ve told her it was no big deal it got lost because I still
have her.
But I can’t keep digging by giving her a damned replacement ring, can I?
Are you going to have her sleep with you, too? Antoine’s question rings in my head.
Of course not. This isn’t about sex. This is about… I rake my hair.
God.
Chapter Thirteen
Elizabeth
I know I definitely messed up and said or did something to upset Dominic. Not that he said or did anything overt to show his displeasure. But I can tell.