Endeared (The Accidental Billionaires #5) - J. S. Scott Page 0,74

out of her words.

“We missed a lot of holidays, birthdays, and special occasions together, Layla. Give me a break. I have more money than I could ever possibly spend, and all of my family is in the same situation. Who in the hell do you think I’d want to spend it on?”

“I really did love the watch,” she said softly. “And all of the gorgeous earrings and clothes. I’m thinking you did a consult with Skye and Riley on those.”

“Nope,” I informed her, slightly offended that she’d think that Skye and Riley knew her better than I did.

“Seriously?” she asked, still sounding doubtful.

Did she really think I couldn’t pick out her gifts myself? “You seem to really like sexier stuff than you used to wear, but nothing too overtly revealing. You like to feel comfortable and together in what you wear, and you aren’t crazy about anything fluffy, ruffled, furred, or otherwise gaudy. You prefer jeans or casual pants to a dress, but you like to style it up a little, and every once in a while, you like something quirky if you’re in that mood. Overall, classy is the goal, but a relaxed classy is more your style. You like colorful, crazy earrings, the bigger the better, but only with earrings, because you’d rather have silver, white gold, or platinum for any other type of jewelry because it’s something you’re not going to lose or throw away. You’ve pretty much decided that perfumes are too strong, so you’ll stick with a body mist and fragrance lotion. Oh, and you’ve developed a fondness for black leather boots, although heels are optional, depending on how much walking you plan on doing that day. I guess I’ll have to see what direction you go after boot season is over. How am I doing so far?”

“I’m . . . stunned,” she muttered.

“I’m observant,” I answered. “Especially when it comes to you. What guy wants to send a woman something she won’t like? And I sure as hell don’t want to ask somebody else what to get my girlfriend. If I have to do that, then I’m not paying attention.”

She sighed. “You’re probably the most thoughtful guy I know, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. But we still need to talk about your, um . . . generosity.”

“It’s just a few gifts, Layla,” I told her. “It gives me more pleasure to give them to you than you probably get by receiving them, so work with me here. Don’t make me give up doing something I’ve just discovered I really like.”

“What am I going to do with you?” she said with what sounded like a mix of exasperation and adoration.

Love me?

That sounded like the best idea I could think of at the moment, but I wasn’t about to say that out loud.

“You’re going to Paris with me,” I said as I pulled into the driveway of her apartment. “I’m here. I’ll be right up.”

“If you come in, we’ll end up late for our flight. You know we will,” she said firmly.

I grinned as I locked my vehicle and sprinted toward the stairs so I wouldn’t end up drenched with rain. “Sweetheart, we’re taking a private jet. They wait for us, not the other way around.”

I heard her suck in a sharp breath. “Okay. Then hurry. Maybe we won’t get too late of a start.”

Fuck! I love this woman.

I took the stairs two at a time instead of waiting for the elevator.

I didn’t give a damn how late we were, but I knew I couldn’t wait another second to get my hands on her.

CHAPTER 26

LAYLA

“I have no idea how something so small can hold so much magic,” I said to Owen several days after we’d arrived in Paris, as I stared at the Mona Lisa painting by da Vinci that was hanging on the wall in the Louvre museum.

I tilted my head to get another angle, but it still seemed just as surreal, any way I looked at it.

We couldn’t get extremely close to the work of art. The wall area was roped off, but I was close enough to be awed by the masterpiece.

Yes, I’d known it was small, only approximately thirty inches by twenty-one inches, which wasn’t very big when one was considering priceless paintings, but size didn’t seem to diminish the piece. It just made it more . . . unique.

It still seemed crazy that I was actually staring at the Mona Lisa in person. In the Louvre, for God’s sake.