12 Does Bingqing know about the bet?

Bingqing and Shan's story is cute, in which they were on vacation in the Swiss Alps, and he was trying and failing to teach her to ski, and he worried his whole proposal idea was going to be ruined because she just wanted to go back inside and nap instead of taking the lift up to where he'd planned the thing.

The whole time, Robin's hand inches higher up my leg, and it's all I can do to keep my gaze fixed on Shan and Bingqing, my smile normal, as we both try to pretend nothing out of the ordinary is happening here. Finally, Robin's fingertips reach much higher, higher that what I was expecting, luckily hidden out of sight beneath the tablecloth.

He shoots me a sly sideways smile and runs his thumb over the crease where my thigh meets my hip, just once, pressing hard enough to make a shiver run all the way from the top of my head to my toes. Then he draws his hand away, back to his own lap, and leaves me breathless and panting.

"What about you?" Shan is asking, oblivious to what just transpired, thank god. "How did you pop the question, Robin?"

"Oh, it wasn't anywhere near that elaborate." Robin launches into a story of his own, and I make all the right noises, nodding at the appropriate times, as he talks about taking me on a pretty drive through wine country and then just slipping the ring onto my finger at one point.

But all the while, I can't help noticing neither of the two billionaires has mentioned this bet of theirs. You'd think that with all the ragging they've done on one another—and all of their digging about how the other one met their significant other—it would have come up by now. Then I glance at Bingqing and wonder if Shan told her about the bet. Maybe not. Maybe he thought it would be rude to mention the fact that Robin gambled on Shan never finding a wife. Doesn't matter. It seems like Robin and Shan are enjoying themselves, no matter who won their bet.

Shan and Bingqing seem genuinely happy. And it's nice to see Robin interacting with a friend who's not one of our coworkers or a potential client. His smile is just a little more carefree, his attitude even more open than he normally is. It makes me smile, too, watching him. I can tell it's going to be a weekend to remember.

Later that evening, just after we finish an amazing three course meal, on a different patio deck restaurant than the one where we enjoyed our cocktails, we stumble across a pool party in full swing. There's a DJ playing, and more than a few hotel attendees decked out in their cutest, most Instagram-worthy bikinis snapping poolside photos and dancing or posing on themed floaties in the pool.

"We have to go get changed and join this," Bingqing yells in my ear, over the sound of the music. "Look, there's a jacuzzi free!" She springs forward before any of the rest of us can respond to claim a spot at one of the hot tubs next to the pool.

I have to admit, with the night air beginning to cool down, and the jacuzzi bubbling and steaming, lit from below by lights that change colors and pulse in tune to the music, it does look pretty appealing.

"What do you think, should we let loose a little tonight?" Robin leans in to murmur in my ear. The hum of his voice tickles my insides and makes my belly clench with desire. Especially when he brings one warm, strong hand to rest on my bare shoulder. I shiver, and this time, it has nothing to do with the faint chill in the air.

"Definitely," I manage to breathe, leaning into him.

Nearby, someone chuckles. I startle and glance over to find Shan and Bingqing grinning at each other, then at us. "Meet you two lovebirds back down here in a few, then?" Shan asks.

My cheeks flush. But Robin doesn't seem embarrassed by the fact that his friends caught us snuggling. If anything, to judge by the amusement dancing in his expression, he's enjoying it.