BETROTHED TO THE BILLIONAIRE

Ryan’s POV

A candlelight dinner date is what I have planned out for the evening. Frankly, I was looking forward to this evening when I was at the office and I kept wondering if going back home to change was the best.

I couldn’t go back home and I am thankful I wore something good today. I am dressed in a slim-fit suit with black suede shoes.

I look around the empty restaurant and finally at the table filled with candlelight and a bouquet of flowers.

Valerie was right. There is little we can do to help my mother. This is why we are doing this. It won’t hurt to act for a little while because Valerie and I are getting along well, pretty quickly.

It will make Mother happy.

It also will not hurt if we fake a pregnancy just to make her happy.

I can’t continue to live with this grief. The earlier I accept reality, the better for both of us. Even for Valerie.

If Mother dies, I see no reason why we should continue with this marriage, except of course for the contract. We already signed it and we have to wait for 20 months before the marriage will be annulled.

Before then, I will do all that is within my power to make Mother happy.

I adjust on the table, suddenly feeling giddy and nervous when it isn’t even real. It is just an act. We will keep doing this until Mother hears of this from someone and then we can stay cool for a while, then begin to go to parties or go shopping together.

I just want her to feel like this marriage is indeed working.

Before I can shift the flower to the other side so it will be facing her when she arrives, the guard at the door opens the transparent door and I know immediately that she is here.

Valerie Adams.NôvelDrama.Org holds text © rights.

She steps into the restaurant in a sexy off-shoulder lace dress hugging her body tightly and exposing her curves.

The dress stops at her knees and my gaze shifts there down to her long legs. She is wearing strappy black heels to compliment her red dress.

Her face is as beautiful as ever, reminding me of my first impression of her. To be honest, Valerie is a beautiful woman.

As she approaches, I notice her full brow which I never observed before probably because I have never had time to examine or admire her properly. Her hair is packed and she is holding a black purse too.

She has make-up on and red lipstick, making her lips admirable.

Then, she smiles.

I blink and slump back into the seat.

Fuck!

“So much for our first date”, she utters, without paying attention to my discomfort.

I can’t believe I am starstruck by the night beauty in front of me. Last night, when she came back from wherever she went, I was amazed by her looks but today, I am mesmerized.

This is way beyond my imagination.

She is fucking beautiful.

“Is this why you didn’t come home to pick me up?” She sits down before I can summon up the courage to get up and drag the seat out for her.

Her eyes are roaming the entire place, looking from the table to every other place.

I force myself to smile.

I didn’t go home because I wanted everything to be perfect before she arrived. Also, I didn’t want to be late. So I asked one of the guards to drive her down here while John brought me here from the office.

“Do you like it?” I finally find my voice and she nods, still looking around with twinkles of amusement in her eyes.

“I’m impressed”, she settles her gaze on me. “You look good.”

I look down at myself in embarrassment. I ought to compliment her first.

“Forgive my manners, my lady. You also look beautiful tonight.” I place a hand on my chest and give her a curtsy bow.

She snickers in laughter. “You actually look cute playing the role of a gentleman. Besides, I am always beautiful”, she guts and throws me a flirty wink.

I shouldn’t let that get to me. This is all part of the act.

“I am a gentleman.”

“No, you are not, Ryan.”

“I am, Val”, I insist and she keeps quiet all of a sudden. Then I remember I called her Val instead of Valerie. She had already told me not to ever call her that and I wonder what difference that will make.

It’s still her name.

Is this the reason for the sudden mood swing? Is there more to this?

“Are you ok?” I ask promptly and she nods without a smile. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie to me,” I say instantly and she smiles, then looks away with creeps of embarrassment evident on her face.

“I lied. I don’t like it when you call me that.”

“Val?” She nods her head intermittently. Without hesitation, I question. “Why?”

Silence ensues.

This date isn’t for this. I shouldn’t tread on the path of another argument between us tonight. It is already a miracle that we haven’t had anything to argue back and forth about yet since the break of dawn, probably because she isn’t sleeping in my room anymore and I haven’t had any encounters with her since last night.

“I’m sorry if I am…”

“It’s fine. That name reminds me of someone I don’t want to remember so I prefer you don’t call me that”, she interrupts me from going further. I actually didn’t have the intention of asking more about the topic but now that she just said this, I can’t help the numerous questions popping up in my head.

Her face is in a deep frown. That sort of frown that tells you someone isn’t happy.

“Because it reminds you of him doesn’t mean others can’t call you your name. It’s your name, isn’t it?” She glances up at me, the frown still etched on her expression. She seems taken aback by my question. Maybe she thought I was going to let it go just like that.

“It’s a beautiful name. I can’t stop calling you that because of him.”

I don’t know why I am suddenly angry at the topic but it makes no sense to me. He is her past. Because he calls her that doesn’t mean others can’t call her that. She should forget him and move on with her life.

If he had called her Valerie and not Val, would she have changed her name too simply because she doesn’t want to be reminded of the asshole?

That’s nonsense.

“Ryan, we aren’t here to fight or argue, are we?” She demands, dropping her purse and leaning forward as if to whisper something to me. “I have my reasons for saying I don’t want to be reminded of him.”

“I know and I understand you but I want you to get over him as quickly as possible.”

“Of course, I am over him.”

“No, you are not”, I counter her back instantly. Trying not to raise my voice, I continue. “If you have gotten over him, then what he calls you shouldn’t have any sort of effect on you. Come on, girl.”

She looks thoughtful for a while before snorting and leaning backward with folded arms.

We continue to stare at each other in silence until she asks in a loud voice. “What are we having for dinner?”

An unconscious smile finds its way to my face and I call out in the same tone. “Waiter!”