Terms and Conditions (Dreamland Billionaires #2) by Lauren Asher

“Where are you going?”

“Work.” He shuts his front door and locks it.

“Since when do you have a job?”

“Since you needed an assistant.”

My mouth drops open. “What?”

“Iris isn’t coming in today.”

“Like hell she isn’t. Her two weeks haven’t even started.”

He laughs. “Maybe you should check your email.”

I frown as I pull out my phone and scan my inbox. “You’re kidding me.”

“Nope. She’s taking a two-week vacation, starting today.”

“No, she’s not.”

He actually grins. “Are you giving me a ride to work or not?”

“Why are you enjoying this?”

“Because it’s nice to watch someone finally put you in your place. Did you really think you could talk to her the way you did and expect her to go into work for two weeks?”

My molars smash together. “I want to talk to her.”

“She’ll speak to you when she’s ready.”

“Then I guess I’ll be the one to do the talking then.” I steal his keys straight out of his hand and unlock the door before he has a chance to grab them.

“Dec—”

I slam the door in my brother’s face and turn the deadbolt before he has a chance to get in.

“Open the damn door!” He pounds his fist against the wood.

I throw his keys on the side table before following the music straight toward the kitchen. Iris’s eyes immediately latch onto mine.

“What are you doing here?”

“I brought you coffee.” I step close enough to pass her the cup.

She stares down at it like it might be poisonous. “You came here to bring me coffee?”

“No. I came here to talk to you. Coffee is merely a bribe for your time.”

“I don’t want your bribes. Not anymore.”

“Fine. Maybe later.” I place it on the counter.

“Should I even ask how you got in here?”

“I stole Cal’s keys and locked him out.”

“Declan—”

“I miss you.”

“It’s been less than twenty-four hours since you last saw me.”

“The addiction gene runs strong in my family. Take pity on your husband.”

She only scowls at my joke. I refuse to lose hope, although the way she looks at me makes me question it for a moment.

“I miss you so damn much, I don’t know what to do with myself. The house is too quiet and the bathroom is far too clean. Even pasta doesn’t taste the same without you cooking it.”

“I don’t cook. I boil. That’s a big difference according to you.”

“Come home. I’ll cook every day for the rest of our lives so long as you agree to not leave again.”

Her eyes shut. “No.”

I take advantage of her guard being down and walk up to her. Her chin fits perfectly within the palm of my hand, and I stroke her cheek with my thumb. “Please. I’m miserable without you.”

She blinks up at me. “I’m not ready.”

“What do you mean you’re not ready?” The sick feeling in my stomach returns stronger than ever as she pulls out of my embrace. I don’t stop her, although every cell in my body is pushing me toward her like a magnet.

“I need time to think.”

“What’s there to think about?”

“You. Me. Us.”

“What about us?”

“Whether or not there was even an us to begin with.”

My chest aches from her confession. Instead of lingering on the pain festering inside of me like sepsis, I choose to ignore it. “You signed a contract.”

“Our deal never said anything about being in a real relationship. You yourself called it a game.”

“This isn’t a fucking game and you know it.” The idea of her thinking that makes me want to rage, but I hold back. I’ve done enough damage as it is.

She shakes her head. “I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

“So what? You just want to go back to how things were before we fell in love?”

Her eyes dart away, and it’s written clear as day across her face. That’s exactly what she thought.

I release a bitter laugh. “Go ahead and take your time, but nothing is going to change the fact that you and I are inevitable.”

It takes a ridiculous amount of self-control to step away from her, but nothing good will come if I keep pushing her on this. She wants her time, and I plan on giving it to her. So long as it happens according to my rules.





Cal drops off Iris’s official resignation letter at 9 a.m., exactly like Iris promised. After everything I went through to prevent it from happening, she is leaving anyway.

All because of you.

Cal hovers in front of me.

I look up from her letter. “Yes?”

“Are you going to sign it?”

I clutch onto her resignation letter with my two fists. “I plan on it.”

He raises a brow and motions toward the paper.

“You can go back to your desk now.”

“And miss all this internal conflict and angst? What do you take me for?”

“A dead man walking.”