221

Connor and I were still talking about the evening as we settled into bed. We’d recently gotten a pair of silk pajamas and split them between us. I was wearing the top, and Connor was looking hot in just the bottoms.

Even billionaires like to economize.

Their fiancées like it even more, when economizing shows off the man’s gorgeous chest and rock-hard abs.

“See? He’s changed,” I insisted as I crawled into bed.

“No he hasn’t.”

I looked at Connor in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

“Okay…” Connor relented. “Maybe he’s softened. Some.”

“Weren’t you shocked when he said that stuff about Miranda?”

Connor looked troubled. “Actually… yes. That was the part that surprised me the most.”

“Aren’t you glad that he finally sees her for what she is?”

“I would… if I didn’t know from experience how dangerous that can be.”

“Well, now you have an ally. And one you thought was an enemy.”

“I guess.”

Under the sheets, he put his hand on the inside of my thigh and lightly brushed his fingertips upwards.

“Hey!”