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‘Good.’ He sent a quick text before putting his phone away. ‘Then let’s talk numbers. I know your highest bid was eight hundred million. I’m prepared to top that to one billion dollars if you throw in your building and all relevant staff as part of the deal. I need your tech experts to configure the algorithm to suit my needs as soon as possible.’
Her jaw sagged, her luscious lips dropping open as she inhaled in shock. ‘I... A billion dollars?’
‘Yes. That’s how badly I want you—Your algorithm.’ He allowed himself a smile. ‘And it’s not without pleasure for me to welcome another woman to the billion-dollar club.’
‘I don’t care about that,’ she stated primly, her eyes flashing again.
He believed her. He’d studied her long enough to know money wasn’t what drove her.
So what did?
Unbidden, his gaze dropped to her flat stomach. The belly she intended to fill with a baby as soon as possible if her statement at dinner was an indication. With a billion dollars she’d never have to work another day in her life. She would be free to have an entire brood if she wanted.
Without him...
‘What do you care about, then?’ he asked before he could stop himself.
She started, her attention drawn from the stratospheric figure he’d tossed into her lap to his question.
‘I thought we agreed to leave personal business alone?’
‘Did we? I don’t recall agreeing to anything of the sort. You said it wasn’t my business.’
‘It still isn’t—’
She paused when she saw movement behind them.
The text he’d sent was to the twenty-four-hour concierge service. The attendant wheeled in a sterling silver tray with glasses and a bottle of vintage Dom Perignon set in an ice bucket.
Seve directed him where to put it then nodded his thanks. Once they were alone, he popped the champagne, poured her a glass and took one for himself before he sat back.
‘What shall we drink to, besides the obvious?’
Her nostrils fluttered. ‘You’re determined. But you must know this isn’t going anywhere because I’m equally determined.’
‘Think of it less as prying and more like...humouring me.’ It was a deeper, more visceral need than that, once whose source he couldn’t quite fathom.
Or could he?
While, on the surface, Genie Merchant had exemplary qualities stemming from her brilliant mind, she was the last person he would’ve laid a maternal label on. Which was why her demand had knocked him sideways. But it had done more than that.
It’d unearthed unwanted memories of his childhood, and the reasons why he didn’t want children. And, perhaps equally importantly, why not everyone who wanted to procreate should.
His own parents were a typical example.
While his childhood had been hellish, not once had he wished for a sibling to alleviate that loneliness. Because even as a small child the last thing he’d wanted was for a brother, even worse, a sister to suffer the way he had. To live in fear of the wrong word or look inviting corporal punishment, which was gleefully doled out under ‘character building’.
It would’ve been unbearable to watch another child sentenced to his father’s and uncle’s brutal fists at the smallest infraction. Even worse to see his mother do nothing while her son was abused.
It was a small crumb of comfort in a hellscape he’d thought he’d put behind him until Genie Merchant unearthed the memories.
‘Maybe I want the same thing you claim you do. To leave the world a better place than I found it,’ she said, blithely unaware of the churning within him.
‘By filling it with babies?’ he gritted out with more bitterness than he’d intended to reveal.
She stiffened, her skin going pale as she stared at him with pained eyes.
A flash of regret fired through him but it wasn’t deep enough for him to issue an apology. Because he felt strongly about this. Perhaps too strongly.
