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“For starters, yeah. I need to make sure the angle and framing are right, and then we can go from there.”

I also wanted to start getting Graham comfortable in front of the camera, but I didn’t tell him that. The more relaxed and natural I could make this feel, the better.

I pressed the record button, and he walked up thegrand alléetoward the château with Queen V and Prince Albert. It was perfect. The lighting. His clothes. The framing. It made me giddy with excitement—my creative juices churning at the prospect of including Graham in my videos.

“Perfect,” I called out. “Come back, and we’ll do it again. Together.”

He returned, and we retraced his steps, this time hand in hand. I smiled up at him, and he was silent. Stiff.

“What’s up?” I asked, knowing the camera wouldn’t pick up our voices without a microphone. Even if it did, I could edit out any conversation. “I feel like your ass cheeks are clenching so hard, you’re going to shit diamonds.”

He barked out a laugh. “You paint quite the image.”

“Well, you are a billionaire. Maybe you do shit diamonds.”

“I don’t. But I have noticed that you rarely wear your ring.” He gave mea look.

“I’d hate to damage it. You know how rough some of these projects can be.”

“It’s insured, but I appreciate your wanting to protect it.”

I nodded.

“I should’ve asked sooner,” he continued. “But is the style not to your liking?”

“Are you kidding?” I gaped at him. “It’s beautiful.”

Secretly, I loved it. And I loved wearing it—maybe a little too much. Not only because it was a beautiful piece of jewelry but because of what it symbolized.

Commitment. Family. Permanence.

I loved the idea of being his wife, but I had to remind myself this was temporary.

“Even so,” he said, interrupting my thoughts. “If it’s not you, then I get it. I’m happy to swap it out for something different if you’d prefer.” He rubbed his thumb over my bare ring finger. I noticed he rarely took his wedding ring off, though it was a simple gold band. There were no stones to knock loose or damage.

We reached the château and stared up at it. “I’d hate for you to have to spend any more money on me than you already have.” Just thinking about it gave me an ulcer.

The engagement ring was expensive. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to know how expensive. But it seemed like a drop in the bucket compared to everything else he’d done. I was beginning to wonder if I’d gotten the better end of the bargain. And regardless of Graham’s feelings for me, I vowed to do anything in my power to ensure that he succeeded with his plans for controlling the Huxley brand.

Graham stopped walking, and I slowed. When I turned to face him, I realized he was scowling.

“Not every decision is based on money.” His eyes glinted with some emotion I couldn’t place.

“Says the billionaire.” I waved a hand through the air, wishing I could wave away my morose mood so easily. Why was I acting like this? I had everything I could’ve hoped for and so much more. And yet, I wanted more. I wanted Graham.

“Let’s go back and get my camera, and then we’ll take some other shots,” I said.

He walked with me back down thegrand allée. I stopped about halfway, turning and wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Kiss me,” I murmured.

He peered down at me, placing his hands on my hips. “I don’t like the idea of kissing you on-camera.”

“Isn’t that the whole point of this relationship?” I kept my voice low. “It’s all for show.”

God, Lil. Could you be more obvious or pathetic?

“I still don’t like it,” he said, and I wasn’t sure what to make of his tone. I wasn’t sure how to answer.