LOVE AND HATE (A Billionaire Romance) by Mia Carson

oils graced the edge of the tub, and I chose lavender. I got the water as hot as I could stand and locked both the bedroom and bathroom doors before sinking into the water.

Scott
     
    I had lunch with Giuliana to let her know I wouldn’t be marrying her after all. She sauntered into the restaurant almost a half an hour late with an expression of perfect disinterest on her beautiful, augmented face. She wore a dress so low cut I could see her belly button and the generous sides of her fake breasts. Nothing I hadn’t seen before. Long blonde hair tumbled down over her shoulders, and her makeup accentuated her cheek bones and lips. She was beautiful, of course, but she was a complete Machiavellian creature.
    I stood and held her chair for her, giving air kisses by way of greeting.
    “I couldn’t possibly eat anything. I’m full to bursting,” she lied. I could count her ribs through her tight dress. The woman was in drastic need of a cheeseburger. “I’ll just get a drink while you order lunch.” Irritating, but not unexpected.
    “How were the Canaries?”
    “Oh, you know. They’re just not like they used to be. So many tourists these days. The villa I rent used to be far away from everything. Now you can hear traffic from a major road, and you can see the other houses. It’s not relaxing.”
    “Such is the price of progress. Your ocean view is still intact?”
    “I own all the way down to the water. They’ll get my ocean view and private beach when they pry them from my cold, dead hands.”
    As though it wasn’t an abnormal request, she ordered a vodka, no ice. The waiter was good, didn’t even quirk an eyebrow. I ordered a burger. I’d seen Giuliana get drunk enough to devour them with orgasmic passion.
    “Change of plans, love,” I announced.
    “At least wait until they bring my drink.”
    “Fair enough.”
    “You were in Las Vegas? How plebeian.”
    “It was a hell of a trip.”
    “You were with Ryan?”
    “Yeah.”
    “How is Ryan? He got divorced, right?”
    “I believe he’s actually been remarried and divorced again since the last time you saw him.”
    “Huh. Is it him, or is it them?” she asked, skeptical.
    “I’d say it’s a little of both.”
    The waiter set Giuliana’s vodka in front of her and my beer in front of me. She took a healthy pull of her drink, and for all the world she looked like a thirsty woman drinking a glass of water. “Change of plans?”
    “I can’t marry you.”
    She raised her gaze to me, her body motionless. “What are you talking about?”
    “I got very, very drunk in Las Vegas and woke up with this.” I flashed my left hand, showing off the ring. I still wore the cheap band we’d bought at the chapel. I saw no reason to upgrade to something more substantial.
    Her eyes narrowed, and she took another drink. “Who’s the lucky lady?” The ice in her tone could cool a drink.
    “An account specialist from a financial firm here in the city.”
    Giuliana set her drink down. “You’re kidding me.”
    “Nope.”
    “What are you doing? We had a deal.”
    “We discussed it, but we didn’t sign anything.”
    “We planned to announce our engagement tonight at Coventry. What are you doing, Scott? You don’t want to be married any more than I do.”
    “I fell in love. What can I say?”
    She took a few measured breaths and polished off the rest of the drink. “I guess that concludes our lunch, then. Unless you have something else you’d like to tell me?”
    “No, that was all I had.”
    “Scott?”
    “Yes, Giuliana?”
    “You’ve made a terrible mistake.”
    “Maybe.”
    “Setting aside the fact that you’ve married some classless Vegas tourist, you have made me most unhappy.”
    “I suspected I might have.”
    “This is not going to work out well for you, I promise.”
    “Are you threatening me? I honestly can’t tell.”
    She laughed, a sound with no humor, and left the restaurant, passing the waiter with my burger. It tasted