Sin and the Millionaire by Lucy Farago Page B

of way. She stared at him, all cute and rumpled, dark circles under his eyes proof they’d been up far too long and should be having this conversation after a good night’s sleep. He was way too smart for her. Way too smart.
    â€œJust how smart are you? Exactly what is your IQ?”
    He shrugged, looking confused as to why she was asking. “You know those tests aren’t accurate. A kid who’s never seen a saucer doesn’t know it goes with a teacup.”
    â€œI take it your score was off the Richter scale?” Whatever she’d have scored, it wouldn’t have compared squat to his.
    â€œScientists have proven three different tests are needed to accurately measure IQ.”
    â€œYou sound like you’re embarrassed by how smart you are.” Brains never hurt anyone.
    â€œLet’s just say, being normal, or seen as normal, would have gone a long way when I was growing up.”
    â€œYou’ve made billions because of your brains.”
    â€œNo, I made money because I used my brains. You did the same thing back in Canada. You found yourself in a dilemma, you dealt with it and then got the hell out.”
    â€œThat doesn’t make me smart.” If she’d been smart, she wouldn’t have found herself in that situation in the first place.
    â€œSure it does. You’re one of the smartest people I know.” He said it so seriously she almost believed he believed it. “Don’t roll your eyes at me. It’s true.”
    â€œDuncan”—she couldn’t believe she was admitting this—“I didn’t finish high school.”
    â€œSo?” he said, not missing a beat. “Harris Turner has three degrees. Victoria graduated with a degree in liberal arts from Brown University. One is dead, the other going to jail.”
    Dear Lord, she wasn’t even as smart as that woman?
    â€œCome on. I’m not saying education isn’t important. But all the education in the world isn’t as important as intuition, instinct, being able to read people or the situation and act accordingly. It might not make you hugely, financially successful, but it keeps you alive, and if you’re very lucky, happy. Are you happy, Lizzy? Wait”—he held up a hand—“before you answer that.” He turned, propping a knee onto the couch.
    â€œMy first instinct was to assume Victoria married me for my money. I ignored that instinct in favor of pumping up my lacking ego with a beautiful woman on my arm. It proved to be a stupid move. I saw it, ignored it, and in the end I was miserable. Then I fell in love with you.” He ran his knuckles along her cheek, and unable to resist, she leaned into his hand.
    â€œWhen I’d finally grown a pair and shoved aside my dumb insecurities, I knew you weren’t ready to hear it. Then you stormed back here all huffy and indignant, and it was time. It wasn’t my IQ that made me take that leap of faith. It was my heart, because deep down inside, I also knew you weren’t going to stomp on it. I know you love me too. But you’re scared.”
    Reluctantly, she nodded. She was afraid if they became a couple, then one day he’d wake up and realize he’d hooked up with a dumb ex-stripper who couldn’t hold a candle to him.
    â€œIn your heart, you know I love you and you me. So what is it? What’s scaring you? And is it real?” He tapped her nose. “Or dumb insecurities?”
    Was he right? Were her insecurities dumb? She was one of the number-one caterers in Vegas, and in a city that understood how to party and eat well that was saying a lot. She hadn’t gotten there on her looks. She’d worked her tail off, taken the guidance when offered, and learned the business side of cooking. She knew that. So why did she feel so insecure around Duncan? She bit her lower lip, trying to come up with the answer.
    â€œYou’re overthinking this.” Taking her