Page 7 of The Billionaires' Gamble

Does he have to look so impressed? Now I want to kisshim. Dammit, I’ve only got one mouth, people.

“Did you design that one?” she asks.

I pull my focus back to the topic at hand.

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Katherine all but screeches. She’s perched on my thighs like a cute little owl, her mouth opening and closing as she looks from me to Gabe and back. It’s almost like she expects this to be an elaborate joke, but it’s not.

“I didn’t want you to feel weird about it. And I didn’t want you to feel pressured into wearing something you didn’t like.”

This way, she could get out of it, no hard feelings. It’s not like my mom was going to notice.

Then again, she did love Katherine in the emerald green number from the auction.

But I’d designed that one after a particularly rough goodbye when I left Katherine in New York, again, and went to Thailand for a spell. It’s been progressively harder and harder to leave her. And my sketching has always soothed me.

Fingers snap in front of my face. “Don’t stop talking now, King?—”

“I used to color in my mom’s office when I was little. She had sketches everywhere, and I sort of picked it up.” I shrug.

“But she sells the dresses. They’re a part of her collection,” she says, emphasizing that last word.

“Yeah.” I smile at the memory. “She loved one of my scribbles and had it turned into a dress. Then she wore it to an event. I was too young to pay attention to which one, but people loved it, and it became our thing. I’d secretly design a dress for each collection.”

“And then send them to Katherine,” Gabe says, filling in the blanks.

I never really planned on telling her, so it’s not like I’d worked out how this conversation would go. Oddly enough, the support coming from Gabe means... everything. There’s still a chance that Wildfire will feel weird about me designing her clothes.

On the other hand, she seemed pretty pleased with me taking Gabe shopping.

He slides a hand into her hair, turning her attention to him. “For the record, that green dress was incredible. I still see you in it when I close my eyes.”

I feel her melt at that. Some of the rigidity leaves her spine, and she sags his way, falling under his spell. She’s not the only one falling.

“Thank you,” she whispers, reaching for him with one hand.

He crowds closer, and we make an odd sort of triangle. Kat on my lap, and all of us angled toward each other. The sun is on the far side of the building now, giving the room a cozy feel.

“You should model it for King. He never got to see you in it.”

To be fair, I haven’t gotten to see her in most of the gowns I designed with her in mind.

“I’d love that.”

She glances my way again. “All of them?”

I huff a laugh at her disbelief. “Starting with the ball gown you wore at The Deb.”

She sucks in a breath, head jerking back.

I know that’s a sore topic for her. And I hate to bring it up, but she wanted the truth.

No.

She needs the truth.

I slide a hand up her back and cup her cheek. I need her to look me dead in the eye when I say this. “I wanted to escort you, but I—I was glad if it couldn’t be me, it was Ford.”