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

A soft laugh escapes me before I have a chance to kill it. “This is our exact problem.” I keep my voice low just in case he is looming too close to the glass doors surrounding our villa. “You continue to order me around like some disobedient housewife, and I continue to push back.”

“If you don’t tell me where I can find you—”

“I’m lounging outside by the pool.”

Our call disconnects. The pace of my heart increases with each second that ticks by. My ability to hear is drowned out by the whooshing sound of blood in my ears.

The hairs on my arms rise at the sound of the sliding door opening. I refuse to look over my shoulder at Declan, so I keep my eyes glued to the starry sky despite the burning sensation spreading across my skin from his assessment.

Declan doesn’t move for a whole minute. I consider him to be an expert when it comes to torture, given the way he makes me wait on pins and needles while he says nothing. While I have always admired his ability to make people crack under pressure, today I find it unbearable. I almost give in to the temptation to look over my shoulder and check on him, but I stay strong.

The wind conceals my sigh of relief as the sliding door glides shut again. Declan’s shoes clap against the wood deck, the thudding matching the staccato of my heart. He lingers close by as if he wants to keep his distance.

I expect him to yell at me. Part of me thinks I deserve it after walking out on him in the middle of an argument. I know it wasn’t the most mature thing to do, but I’m only human. While it takes a lot to make me explode, once I do, hell hath no fury like an assistant scorned.

The rebellious part of me stands by my decision, knowing something about him needs to give. I’m not a robot. I have feelings and dreams and a hope that I won’t spend the rest of my life assisting him to achieve his goals while putting mine on hold. And if he can’t see that, then maybe it’s time I move on from my position.

I might have tried and failed before when I applied for a job transfer, but that’s what life is all about.

“We need to talk.”

My eyes slide from the stars to his face. I open my mouth to speak, but the words seem to get trapped in my throat. I’m not sure what to say. Declan isn’t the type of man who wants to talk. That alone puts me on edge, and I become unsure of myself.

He takes a seat on the chair parallel to mine. Unlike me, he doesn’t lean back, instead choosing to remain in an upright sitting position. The shadows cling to him like a cloak, concealing most of his face. I don’t need any light to know he is focused on me. My body does the job for me, sending a shiver down my spine that has nothing to do with the temperature outside.

“I’m sorry.” His voice can barely be heard over a gust of wind.

I turn my face away, shielding him from seeing how my eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.

He must take my silence as quiet approval. “I made a mistake.”

I might need to take up learning sign language because I have officially lost the ability to speak. Declan doesn’t apologize, and he sure as hell doesn’t admit when he is wrong. That should serve as my first warning that something is off between us.

“I don’t want you to quit.” His admission hangs between us.

“Why? Because it would suck to find a replacement?”

“No one can replace you.”

Who knew one statement could do a whole lot of damage to my heart? It beats harder as if it wants to respond for me. “I can’t do this anymore.”

He sighs. “I know.”

“I deserve better.”

“That was never a doubt.”

I tilt my head. “I’m not happy.”

His reply doesn’t come instantly like the others. The silence eats away at my calm façade, and I find my fingers tapping against my thighs in a nervous pattern.

“It was wrong of me to make you work on your day off.”

I deflect with humor, hoping to ease the tight ball forming in my chest. “Yeah. You’re right. It was a total dick move.”

The moonlight highlights his small smile, making the whites of his teeth stand out. “You have such a foul mouth.”

“Is it just me or do you seem to have an unhealthy obsession with my mouth lately?”

“Who says it’s unhealthy?”

Oh. My. Lord. Either Declan is flirting with me or I was murdered by a wild animal and have officially ascended into heaven.

Or hell. Depends on how you look at it.

My toes curl inside of my boots before I have a chance to squash the warmth pooling in my belly.

What has gotten into you? Toes curling? Next thing you know, you’ll be swapping out your abstinence card for a healthy dose of Declan’s dick.

Stop thinking about his dick!

I clear my throat. “It’s fine. All is forgiven.” I’ll say just about anything to make him go away. There are far too many feelings happening inside of me to handle any more of this conversation. Scary kinds of things that I refuse to explore while he assesses me for weaknesses.

He rubs the back of his neck.

Is he…nervous?

No. There is no possible way.

Right?

I’m so mystified at the idea of Declan being self-conscious, I completely miss whatever he says. “What?”

“I called Yakura and told him we wouldn’t be able to send him the proposal until we came back from our trip.”