The Billionaire Takes All (The Sinclairs #5)

“Your husband is a billionaire,” he reminded her.

“He won’t be my husband forever,” she said lightly. “What happens when our three-month marriage is over? I have to make a living.”

Luckily, they were interrupted by the waiter bringing their soup. After he was gone, Julian had calmed down a little.

“I’ll be back by Friday. Given a choice, I wouldn’t go. But the appearance is in my contract,” Julian told her glumly.

“Then you have to go,” she replied serenely.

Hell, she seemed almost content that he was leaving. And he hated hearing the shit about their short marriage plans. “You know you’ll miss me,” he told her in a cocky voice as he picked up his soupspoon.

“I definitely won’t miss your expertise in the kitchen,” she joked.

“Hey, I’m doing fine with the microwave.” He did feed himself during the day, but he’d been restricted to microwave use only. Mostly, he grabbed a sandwich or whatever was convenient.

Kristin dug into her chowder like she hadn’t eaten all day, which she probably hadn’t. He knew she usually ate on the run during her busy days at the office, or she just skipped lunch completely.

He was so occupied with watching her that he dribbled some of his soup. “Damn!” He looked down, happy most of it had dropped back into the bowl.

“Oh, no. Your beautiful sweater,” Kristin fretted, dipping a napkin into her water glass and stretching across the table to swipe the wet paper carefully across his chest. “It’s just a tiny drop. I think it will be fine,” she assured him.

He wasn’t worried about the damn sweater. Julian was more concerned about his dick and the way it reacted to her scent as she stretched to get close to him.

“What’s this?” she asked curiously, tugging on a thick gold chain around his neck until the contents that he’d stuffed inside the sweater were revealed.

He lifted a hand to stop her, but it was too late. She’d felt the objects through his sweater and revealed the items he’d tucked away to take with him before he could prevent it.

Julian yanked the rope of gold over his head and tossed it on the table.

It was telling, but he was tired of the bullshit anyway. For him, it was now or never that he came completely clean.

He was either going to get what he’d always wanted, or he was going to get destroyed.

He looked across the table at Kristin, not liking his odds when he saw the look on her face.



Kristin couldn’t take her gaze away from the two gold wedding bands lying on the table, the two kept together by a heavy chain of gold.

“What are they?” she asked in a heavy voice.

“Wedding bands. The ones we bought for our ceremony in Vegas.”

The waiter brought their sandwiches and left, but Kristin didn’t even spare him a glance. She was too focused on the gold lying on the table.

Finally, she picked them up and examined them closely, still trying to figure out what they meant. “Why do you have them?”

There was a pang in her chest as she fingered both of the wedding rings, a vague sense of familiarity hitting her. But other than a feeling, she didn’t recognize them.

“I took them with me the morning I left Vegas, along with the paperwork confirming we got married,” he answered flatly.

Her head jerked up to look at him. “You knew? You didn’t slowly remember? You were aware of exactly what happened that night?” she accused, feeling hurt that he’d always been aware of the details of her forgotten day.

“I remembered everything, even before I saw the rings. I knew the minute I woke up and my sheets smelled like us and hot sex that we’d gotten married.”

Her heart aching, she asked, “Why did you lie? If you knew what happened, why didn’t you wake me up so we could take care of this problem right away?”

“Because it wasn’t a fucking problem for me,” he rasped. “I took the rings because I had to go, and I was pretty sure you wouldn’t remember us getting married. But I do. I remember every damn moment, and it was everything I’d ever wanted . . . you were everything I’d wanted since the moment we met. I wanted to see you in person after I fulfilled my obligations. I wanted to make it real.”

Her heart started to beat faster, and it was at that moment that she began to hope like she never had before. “So you weren’t drunk?”

“Oh, I was drunk, but I wasn’t so drunk that I would have married just any woman. I wanted you. It’s always been you. I haven’t been with another woman since the day we met.” He paused before adding, “It didn’t happen the way I wanted it to, and if I had been totally in my right mind, I wouldn’t have married you in Vegas. But I would have been here eventually, hounding you until you agreed to date me, and then I would have asked you to marry me. Failure wasn’t an option. It never has been for me. Not when it came to you.”

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