Her Little White Lie by Maisey Yates Read Free Book Online Page B

the inner pocket of his suit jacket and produced a velvet box. “Be my wife, et cetera,” he said, opening the box, revealing a pear-shaped emerald surrounded by diamonds.
    “It’s … wow.” Hard not to be completely floored when a gorgeous man was giving you a beautiful ring. “How did you know I liked green?”
    “Your eye shadow,” he said.
    She looked up, as if she could see it. “Oh.”
    “And I thought the color and style would suit you. Sedate doesn’t seem to be your thing.”
    “Uh … no. Not so much.”
    “Put it on,” he said.
    “What? Oh, yeah.” She looked down at the ring and a clawing sense of dread made her chest tighten. Was she really going to do this? To put on his ring and go all the way with this?
    Yes. Yes, she was. She’d never believed in anything more in her whole life. She’d never been the goal-oriented one in her family. She’d never been the top achiever. She’d never wanted anything so much it made her ache.
    That wasn’t the case now. Now there was Ana. And she made Paige want to be the best mother. Made her want to do everything she could to give her baby the best life possible. To encourage her, to love her as she was.
    She took a deep breath and lifted the ring from its silkennest, sliding it onto her finger. “There. We’re engaged now,” she said.
    He nodded slowly and leaned back in the seat. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. If he was thinking.
    “What?” she asked.
    “What do you mean by that?”
    “I was just wondering what you were thinking. I mean … this is weird.” She wondered if he was thinking of a beautiful blonde, or stunning, dark-haired beauty he would rather have given a ring to. The thought made her chest feel odd. Tight. “We don’t really know each other and … were you planning on getting married ever?”
    “No,” he said, definitively. Decisively.
    “Oh. Not even if you meet the right person?”
    “There is no right person for me. Or at least not one who’s right for more than a couple of days. And nights.”
    Dante watched Paige’s face, the confusion, the little bit of judgment. What he’d just said wasn’t true in the strictest sense. The part about marriage was true, but the way he’d spoken of his relationships made it sound like he and the women he slept with met and spent a few days locked in a passionate embrace.
    Nothing could be further from the truth.
    He’d had arrangements with a few different women over the course of his adult life. Women who were just as busy and driven as he was. Women who were just as averse to relationships.
    The women he usually took to the charity events, the models, the actresses … he didn’t sleep with them. They were the bit of flash, the ones who looked good in pictures and who wanted to be in them.
    But they were too young, many of then. Too starry-eyed and not nearly cynical enough. The women he took to bed, all they wanted was a couple of hours and a couple of orgasms. They wanted what he wanted. They didn’t want forever andfireworks; they wanted a basic need to be met. And that’s what happened. Basic, simple pursuit of release.
    Still, there was no way to explain that without making it sound even worse.
    And when had he ever cared what anyone thought? Never. He’d come into the public eye amid speculation and criticism. The Italian orphan that had somehow weaseled his way into the Colson family. That had been named as the heir of a billion-dollar fortune. There had been endless speculation about him, about how it had happened. As if he, even at fourteen, had known some sort of dark secret about the older couple who had taken him into their home. Something that would have enticed them to take on such a sullen, angry child.
    He had never once tried to correct the rumors.
    But something about the look in Paige’s eyes made him want to clarify, to change her assumptions. Or at least make an excuse.
    “What about you,” he asked, happy to redirect the focus of the