Page 97 of The Billionaire's Christmas Bride

I lower my chin, hiding behind my thick fall of hair. "Has your family always lived in Durham?"

He sighs loudly, then leans back.

Whew!Dodged that one. After how he’d pulled that cheap stunt of lying about the storm, I should seriously have been angrier… But for some reason…I’m not. Maybe I’m flattered that he lied to ensure I’d comply with his plan. But…what else did he lie about? I chew on my lower lip.

"My mother moved there after my siblings and I left home. I grew up in London," he explains. "After the incident…" he pauses.

I hold my breath.Is he going to tell me about himself? Is he going to share a little more of what goes on behind those colorless eyes of his?Weston doesn’t come across as closed off… But his demeanor…that hard outlook of his hides so many secrets. I turn to him, "The kidnapping you mean?"

He nods, then rotates his neck from side to side, "I was one of the lucky ones. My parents rallied around me. Even my asshole of an older brother became protective for a period of time. And my younger sister? Well... She sensed something was amiss. She’d crawl into bed every night and comfort me while I sobbed myself to sleep."

"You…cried every night?"

"I was twelve." His lips twist. "The incident forced me grow up fast… But at night, when I couldn’t hide from myself anymore, the demons would come out to play. I don’t think I have slept properly since … Until…" He trails off, then turns to me, a strange look on his face.

My throat dries. "Until?" I prompt.

"Until that first night in the cabin, when I spooned you in bed."

My cheeks flush. I turn, crack open the window, and the outside air rushes in. "Why are you telling me this now?"

"No reason," his voice is emotionless.

I turn to find he’s staring ahead.

"Not long now," he says in that same colorless tone.

Right, guess that’s me being put in my place, huh?

"Did they hurt you?"

"Who?"

I frown, "The…men who kidnapped you with the rest of the Seven."

"Are you really interested in finding out about it?"

I open my mouth, then shut it. "Guess not." I turn away once more, ball my fingers into fists, "I’m trying to be polite, that’s all."

"Don’t be."

I swallow, "We’re going to see your family. We should, at least, put on a veneer of politeness."

"My mother would prefer it if we were to speak our minds; she can spot something fake from a mile off."

I turn on him, "And you think we can get away with…" I point between us, "this?"

His lips stretch in a smile that is not one at all, "Why do you think I asked you and not someone else?"

"I don’t understand."

He turns, trains the full force of those grey-silver eyes on me, "There’s enough chemistry between us to pull this off."

I open my mouth.

He raises his hand, "Don’t deny it. We may not be able to stand each other, but you know what they say?"

"What?"