Page 99 of The Billionaire's Demand

That was why this felt different, he realised as he hit the six-mile mark. It wasn’t about them per se, but the fact they were going to be co-parenting. It was an intimate relationship regardless of the reality of their situation: that they barely knew one another.

Sleeping together didn’t mean anything. It was an itch they’d scratched. And despite what they’d said, he suspected they’d scratch it again when they wanted to. That didn’t have to be complicated. It didn’t have to change anything.

And yet surely it was smarter to keep things in their own clear lane.

They were getting married for the sake of this baby. They were going to be living together, raising a child together. Just the thought of that made Raul’s throat constrict with panic. So much so, he had to stop running a moment, pressing his hands to his hips and sucking in big bursts of cold morning air.

He didn’t want this, he thought with a groan. He didn’t want to be tied to anyone.

He was a runner. He ran. He ran whenever he wanted or needed to. He didn’t have belongings he cared enough about to lose. He didn’t have people he cared enough about to lose. He couldn’t care about a child or a wife. He couldn’t.

And yet, what choice did he have? He was about to become a father—it was a sacred role, one he knew he would fulfil because he’d experienced only absence there. In his heart, where he might have turned to find love and strength built from generations of support, he knew nothing. It was a void he would never pass on to his child. He had to be in their life; this was the only option.

He was terrified of the steps he was taking, terrified of a future tethered to anyone, and somehow Libby made that all the more frightening, yet he knew he had to act fast, to make this happen.

For even though he was afraid and acknowledged this to be the last thing he wanted, at the same time he also understood he wouldn’t breathe easily until Libby was officially his wife and their commitment to this child was formalised.

And there it was. The clarity he’d sought.

Many times in Raul’s life he’d been afraid and yet he’d acted. If anything, the fear made him more determined: he wouldn’t be cowed by it. He’d been afraid to turn up at each new foster home, afraid of the new rules, the new people, the new environments, the new schools. Afraid and yet determined never to show it: he conquered fear and doubt with strength and courage, and he would do so again.

Running once more, he began to formulate a plan, meeting the uncertainty of his heart with black and white steps of determination and action.

That, after all, was Raul’s way.

Libby read the email with a strange heaving in her chest.

Libby

The wedding will take place on Friday at two p.m., after which we’ll have a late lunch to celebrate.

R

She read it again, frowning now, her heart pounding against her ribs.

The wedding will take place on Friday at two p.m.

There was no mention of how she’d get to the wedding, no mention of a honeymoon, no mention of any of the specifics that she wanted to know. But what he had mentioned was enough to send her pulse into total disarray.

Friday was only two days away.

Two days!

She knew they were getting married quickly, but foolishly hadn’t expected it would happen so soon. And yet, wasn’t that the whole point of this? He’d taken her to buy a wedding ring; that had clearly been a forerunner to the event itself.

...after which we’ll have a late lunch to celebrate.

Celebrate what? Their sham wedding?

Her lips pulled to the side as she felt a familiar emptiness in her heart, the pain of knowing how far removed their wedding and marriage were from what she’d always wanted. But she forced herself to ignore it. This wasn’t about her. She’d already grappled with the sacrifice she was making, and why.

For their baby, she’d do this. She’d make it work. And she refused to feel sad about it—there was just no point in lamenting what she could never have. She’d have to find a different kind of fairy tale, and she suspected that would begin and end with the love she felt for the little person growing inside her belly.

He arrived late that night, and Libby was already asleep; Raul left early the next morning, and so on and so forth, so on the morning of their wedding she awoke with a strange sense of absence warring with anticipation in the pit of her stomach.

She was getting married today, to a man she hadn’t seen nor spoken to in days, and despite the pragmatic circumstances behind their union, her stomach was filled with butterflies and she couldn’t help the hum in her bloodstream as she dressed with care for the ceremony.

It was not in a church.

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