Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
This is the first time we’ve met. I realize I’ve played this terribly.
I shouldn’t even be here.
“Is this some billionaire’s game?” she snaps, color rising to her cheeks, giving her an even more vivacious look. “Is that it? You arrange for interns to be left alone and then take your chance? You pounce? Is that it, huh?”
She’s so full of cheeky indignation. It’s a unique combination. Maybe Americans would call it sassiness, though I rarely hear that word here.
“Why are you smiling?” she says, her voice getting louder.
I am. It’s true. It’s because I know she’s going to make an incredible mother. This cheekiness and righteous rage will become a mother bear’s instinct that she will never let go of. She’s always going to do the best for our children.
“Hello?” she says, waving her hand in front of me.
I’m just staring at her, struggling to decide what to say. I could unleash it all now and tell her I’ve wanted her for weeks, ever since I saw the video. Tell her she’s the only woman I’ve ever wanted, my young curvy goddess, but if I do that, she might tell me she never wants to see me again.
Or, worse, she’ll leap at the chance. She’ll say she doesn’t need to hear anymore. She has all the information she needs. I’m a billionaire, capable of caring for her, and that’s all she cares about. She wouldn’t come outright and say it like that, but I’d never know if she really feels what she says she does or if it’s all an act.
I do maybe the worst, cruelest thing I could.
“Uh, hey?” she says at my back as I walk away, knowing I’m going to regret this, knowing I’m a douche. “Where are you going?”
I push the office door open and stride toward the elevator. George is standing alone in it when it opens up. My old friend runs a hand through his sandy blond hair, narrowing his eyes when he sees me. I’ve known him long enough to tell when he’s suspicious. He knows something’s up.
He glances at his secretary, Henrietta, and then nods to the seating area at the side. George has a lean build and sharp eyes. His hair has remained solid blond with no hint of silver yet, though we’re around the same age.
“Something wrong, mate?” he asks.
I say nothing.
“Tommy?” he goes on. He’s the only person who calls me that anymore. “What happened? Why are you here?”
I swallow, knowing I can’t keep this from him forever, especially after what happened. My body is alight with what we just did: the lust and the closeness.
“I couldn’t help myself,” I mutter, dropping into a chair.
“I don’t get it.”
I glance at his office, my chest pounding. Instincts try to force me back into the office, sweeping my woman into my arms again, holding her close so she can feel the passion burning out of me.
“Your new intern.”
“Amy? What about her?”
“Amelia,” I growl. “Her name is Amelia.”
He raises his hands, sitting slowly. “All right. Amelia.”
“Sorry.” I sigh darkly. “I don’t know what’s happening to me, but she… I’m interested in her a lot, and now I’ve just kissed her and left her in there. She’s probably bloody confused.”
“Did she kiss you back?”
“Of course, she did,” I snap. “I wouldn’t forc—”
“Easy, Tommy. I’m not saying that. I’m just saying, if she kissed you back, how confused is she?”
“You don’t get it. Remember a few weeks ago when you were watching the intern videos?”
As I tell him, outlining it all as best as I can, I read the shock in his expression. He tries to hide it, but he can’t—the widening of his eyes, the way he subtly tilts his head like Loki when he hears a sound a few streets over. It’s as if he’s trying to connect the Tommy he knows with the one flooded with obsessive certainty. The cold billionaire turned Casanova, and he can’t. No, Casanova wouldn’t work. He played the field. It’d be Romeo, except that means this will end in tragedy.
“Jesus.” George runs his hand through his hair again. “And she’s still in there now?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve been following her?” George says quietly.
“Last night, I showed up at her house. It’s a shithole. She deserves better.”
“Did you get the address from our files?”
“Yes.”
“Why? You don’t know her.”
“I feel like I do. I feel like I’ve been waiting my entire life for her.”
“What are you going to do?” he asks.
“I don’t know. I thought about what you said once, a few years ago, before you met Dani and had your kids. We were sitting in the cocktail lounge at Erudis. Do you remember?”
He shakes his head.
“You waved a hand around the lounge, and you told me, ‘Mate, if any of these women knew how much money we had, we could marry them, most of them at least, but we’d never know if it was real.’”