Taming the Carefree Billionaire - Marie Higgins Page 0,26
always wanted this camera but couldn’t afford it. Even if she saved her money for five years, she wouldn’t be able to afford something like this. The last time she’d checked, this piece of equipment was around fifty-grand.
“What...” She shook her head, looking up at Thomas. “Why are you giving me this?”
“I owe you a camera since I broke your last one.”
Part of her wanted to throw the generous gift back at him and tell him to leave her alone, but another part of her really wanted this camera. Of course, by taking the camera, that would mean she’d have to forgive him and be nice. The problem was, she wasn’t sure she was ready for that yet.
“I appreciate your thoughtful gift,” she gave back the camera, “but I can’t accept it. Besides, I had my camera fixed, so I’m good now.”
His smile disappeared and was replaced with a frown. “Really? You’re giving it back?”
She nodded. Her heart twisted a little seeing the crushed look of rejection on his face. “Thomas, I really can’t accept it. I know how expensive this is, and—”
“And you don’t think I can afford it?”
There was a touch of humor in his tone, but he still wasn’t smiling. He continued to look at her as if she’d gone crazy. “I know you can afford it, but it’s not right—”
“Morgan, I broke your other camera. It was my fault you had to fix it, which I’m sure set you back a few hundred dollars.”
She took calming breaths, trying not to get upset at him. “Yes, I know.”
He pulled out his wallet and withdrew five-hundred dollars. “Then let me pay you for the repair.”
She stared at the money. She should take it, but the cost wasn’t that much money. However, that money would definitely help her parents since the family was trying to pay off the mortgage so her parents wouldn’t have to worry about loan payments ever again.
She sighed. No, it wouldn’t be right to take the money. “I’m sorry again, Thomas, but I can’t take it.”
“Why not?”
“The repairs weren’t that much.”
He rolled his eyes before grabbing her hand and shoving the money into her palm. “Then consider the rest of the money as my way of an apology.”
Slowly, she folded her fingers over the money. “Thomas, I appreciate and accept your apology.”
He sighed and a small smile touched his face. “Thank you. Now,” he paused as his gaze ran slowly over her face and hair, “can you tell me something that’s been bothering me since that night?”
She straightened her shoulders. “What’s that?”
“Why did you feel the need to sell those degrading pictures of me to several tabloids? You know I was slightly intoxicated that night—”
“Slightly?” She arched an eyebrow as she slid the money into her jacket pocket.
He scowled. “I was in full control of my actions.”
“You were smashed, Thomas.”
He shook his head. “I wasn’t that smashed, especially since I could remember everything that had happened.”
“Oh, really?” Morgan moved to his car and leaned against it, facing him as she folded her arms. “So, you intentionally tried to flirt with me even though your date was hanging all over you?” She chuckled. “Thomas, that doesn’t make a very good date, you know.”
“You got it all wrong.” He leaned against the car, getting closer. “She wasn’t my date. I didn’t have a date that night. Angie is just one of my... fans.”
“Fans?” She laughed. “Are you serious?”
“Very. My friend and I call women like that groupies. They usually follow us around to different parties. I’ve known Angie for years, but I’ve never dated her.”
“Well, I’m relieved to know you don’t treat women that poorly.”
“On the contrary, my dear Morgan.” He caressed her cheek.
The warmth from his fingers shot tingles through her, confusing her greatly. She withdrew from his touch.
“I treat my dates like queens. I love spoiling them.” He arched an eyebrow. “Would you like me to show you?”
Suddenly, it had become hard to breathe. She even felt like everything was closing in around her... yet, she was outside. She stepped away from the car, putting distance between them. “That’s such a tempting offer,” she replied sarcastically, “but I’m going to decline.”
Thomas shrugged. “Your loss.”
“Yes, I suppose it is.”
He moved back to his car door, and set the camera back on the seat, but then turned to her. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I didn’t?”
“No. Why did you sell my humiliating picture to tabloids? I know that’s what photographers do, but you actually work for one, and