Page 34 of Valentine’s Billionaire Auction

Kaira bit her lip, clearly contemplating her next move. “And if I decide, at any point, that this isn’t what I want—what then? Can I just walk away?”

I leaned forward, elbows on the table, fixing her with a steady gaze. “There will be stipulations in the contract for both of our protections. But yes, you can walk away. However,” I paused, letting the weight of my next words sink in, “breaking a contract comes with penalties. They’re designed to discourage either party from backing out prematurely.”

She was silent, her mind clearly racing through the implications. Finally, she looked up and met my eyes, her expression resolute but wary.

“Okay,” Kaira said slowly. “I’ll do it. But I want something in writing that details every aspect of this arrangement—what you’ll cover, the penalties, everything. And I want my lawyer to look over it before I sign anything.”

“Of course,” I replied. “You’ll have your contract by tomorrow morning. Your lawyer can go through it with a fine-tooth comb.”

We both knew she didn’t have a lawyer, nor could she afford one. But I would let her pretend she did. She downed her bourbon, surprising me just a little. She didn’t even flinch.

“Can I leave now?” she asked flatly.

I smirked. “I was going to give you a tour first. You’ll be moving in Monday night.”

“Monday?” she yelped, her eyes wide. “That’s only three days away! I can’t do that! I have… I have…”

I waited for her to finish her sentence. “Yes?”

“Well, I have nothing scheduled but why so soon?”

“This has to move quickly,” I explained. “Monday is final—so long as the board approves, of course.” I rose to my feet and gestured for her to follow. “Come on. Walk with me.”

The solarium transitioned seamlessly into the indoor pool area. Warm light glimmered off the water’s surface. I pressed a button on the wall, and a partition slid open, revealing the outdoor pool beyond.

“You can swim inside or outside, depending on your mood,” I said casually. “The outdoor section is heated year-round and big enough for laps. And I have rafts and stuff if you just want to float around.”

She took it all in, her arms wrapped tightly around herself like she was trying to keep from reaching out and touching the ridiculous luxury. My place was a lot. I knew that. But what was the point of being filthy rich if you didn’t treat yourself?

“Next, the spa.” I led her through a side door, where sleek massage tables and treatment rooms awaited. “The staff is on speed dial. You can book any service you like while you’re here. There’s a sauna and a hot tub and literally the softest towels you’ll ever use.”

Her narrow-eyed expression didn’t change but I noticed her eyes linger on the cozy treatment chairs.

“And here’s the gym,” I said as we stepped into a state-of-the-art facility. “Top of the line equipment. Plus, I have access to trainers and nutritionists who the celebrities go to.” I grinned and gave her a playful smack on the ass. “Though I’d rather you not spend too much time in here, to be honest.”

She yelped, whirling around to swat my hand away. “How dare you!”

“What?” I held up my hands in mock innocence. “You’re my fiancée.”

Her eyes narrowed to slits. “That doesn’t give you the right to touch me. Just because there’s a contract doesn’t mean⁠—”

“I apologize,” I interrupted, still grinning. “You’re right. But for the record, your curves are something else. It’d be a shame to lose them. In fact, I might just lock this room. I don’t ever want you in here.”

Her lips parted like she wanted to argue, but she clamped them shut, her cheeks tinged pink. “I do exercise. Trust me, my curves are more stubborn than you are. They aren’t going anywhere.”

“Good.”

I took her through the kitchen, with its gleaming marble counters and a fridge that could feed a small army, then through the dining room and dining hall.

“This is absurd,” she muttered.

“Thank you,” I shot back. “That’s sort of the point.”

Smirking, I led her into the ballroom.

“Of course there’s a ballroom,” she said, throwing her hands up. “You throw a lot of balls, Roman? You a big ball man?”

I chuckled. “Not so much, but my parents used to throw lavish parties here,” I explained, glancing at the polished dance floor. “It’s mostly unused now, but who knows? Maybe we’ll host something while you’re living here.”