Be My Babygirl A Billionaire Romance - Jane Henry Page 0,42

me?”

“All for you, babygirl. And it’s one hundred percent real.” He leans over, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

My heart wells in my chest, elation fills me. Not only am I now the proud owner of the world’s most beautiful engagement ring, he picked this out just for me. I sneak a glance at him out of the side of my eyes. He’s staring down at my hand, a content, pleased look on his face.

Wait... what’s real? I’m letting my imagination and my hopeless romantic heart get ahead of me. It’s a real diamond. That’s it. It signifies nothing. It’s really just a prop, to keep people quiet.

Right?

Is it possible that he likes the look of his ring marking my finger as much as I do?

I’m so happy, tears of joy are welling in my eyes. But, a moment later, my world comes crashing down with his next statement. “I had to get a real one if we’re going to convince people we're really engaged. My ex can spot a cubic zirconia fake from a mile away.”

My heart falls straight into my Jimmy Choos. “Your... ex?”

He scowls, the old grumpy Darius making a sudden return. “Yeah, I’m sure she’ll make an appearance at one point or another.”

There’s no time to ask questions because we’re beginning our descent. Somehow take-off and landing always leave me nervous, my knuckles white as they clutch the arms of my chair.

We survive the landing, but I barely survive my first taste of humidity as we step out into the Georgia air. Vegas might be hot, but it's a dry heat. This is... intense. My breath catches in my throat and even though I can’t see it yet, I know… my hair instantly shrinks up into a frizzy halo of curls with humidity like this.

This is not a good look for me.

At least my ring looks pretty as it sparkles under the sunlight—even if it is just a pretty ring with no significance, just to impress his ex.

I swallow back my jealous, ugly thoughts. It’s only my own insecurities causing me to question his feelings for me. Right?

There’s a private town car waiting for us at the curb, of course. The driver, dressed in a three-piece suit, rushes from his vehicle to gather our bags for us. Darius opens the door, and I slide into the backseat.

He’s got the privacy partition up before the driver even returns from loading our luggage. Kissing my neck, he whispers into my ear, “I’d like a taste of Georgia peach right about now.”

I flush. But I’m not his Georgia peach. Am I?

I’m just the girl he’s brought here to appease his grandmother. His fake fiancée. His kissing continues, and though I feel heat rousing between my thighs, I place a hand on his chest, stopping him.

For the first time since we’ve met, I deny him. “I’m a little tired. Can we rest a bit?” My conscience pricks me. I did sign that contract.

He pulls away. He looks disappointed and slightly peeved to be rejected. “Is something the matter?”

I can’t bear to tell him of my insecurities, so I smile and shake my head. “Just nervous, that’s all.” I smile. “Um... maybe we should play the get-to-know-you game before we arrive so we can be sure we pass as a couple?”

He raises a brow, unconvinced my plan will be more fun than the entertainment he had in mind. “Get-to-know-you game?”

“Sure. You know. Just little things that we should know about one another.” I dive right in. I really want to be prepared. “I’ll start. What’s your favorite color?”

He sits back in his seat, thinking. “Red. But not the bright fire engine type, the darker one, like you find in an apple.”

“Okay. Mine is pink. But not the bright one you find on the stripper g-strings on the strip. The light one you find in cotton candy,” I tease.

“You know what strip clubs are like?” he raises a stern brow at me, and my heart stutters.

I laugh. “Um no. You?”

He shakes his head, but his eyes are still narrowed. Is that a little jealousy I spy? “I wouldn’t know anything about that. I don’t frequent strip clubs.”

“But you got me from an escort service?”

“My first. And my last.” He leans over, kissing my forehead.

It’s a sweet gesture, one that makes me melt. And yet, it brings up my insecurities again. What does he mean? How does he really feel about me? I push the thought away, enjoying the light, fun banter