Page 175 of The Billionaires

“Seriously. Any chance you can wait till tomorrow?”

Nope. The puppy seems inconsolable.

Oh, well. My chances of getting fired have just skyrocketed. Sliding my bare feet into slippers, I take Colossus in one hand and his bed in the other and traverse the mansion—which seems to have grown just for this occasion.

When I reach Bruce’s room, I’m panting and there’s sweat beading on my temples. On the bright side, Colossus goes quiet, confirming my theory.

“Please behave,” I beg the puppy. “My best bet is sneaking you in and getting out before Bruce wakes up.”

Praying the door doesn’t creak, I open it just a sliver.

Crap.

It’s pitch black in comparison to the hallway.

I close my eyes and will them to adjust to the dark. At the same time, I pet Colossus and hope he doesn’t whine so close to his goal.

My strategy pays off. When I open my eyes, I can see into the bedroom well enough to sneak in.

Channeling my inner ninja, I hold my breath and tiptoe to the doggie bed’s former location.

Okay. I’m there and undetected thus far.

Setting the bed down, I put Colossus into it.

Yes! I did it, and Bruce is none the wiser—until tomorrow morning, that is.

I go into stealth mode once again and turn toward the door. That’s when a fat bead of sweat on my right temple starts to feel unbearable, and I absentmindedly wipe it off.

Colossus barks.

Shit.

I’m an idiot. I’ve just spent hours training him to bark when he sees someone’s temple being touched, and I just inadvertently gave him the command.

“Alexa, bedroom lights on!” Bruce shouts—and I feel a sense of déjà vu as I go blind for a moment.

Turning toward my doom, I squint against the brightness overhead—and my eyes threaten to leap out of my head and grow tongues so they can lick some of what they’re seeing.

Wearing absolutely nothing, Bruce is almost upon me, his gaze at its icy best, his every muscle rippling, and Titan fully erect, jutting out like the chiding index finger of a giant.

Driven by pure adrenaline, I back up a step and then one more… which is when I step on the edge of Colossus’s bed and lose my balance.

My hands begin to flail.

Oh, no. If I fall on the tiny dog, I’ll hurt him. So, I do the only thing I can to save him—let myself pitch forward, right at Bruce.

CHAPTER 25

BRUCE

I see Lilly flailing and can almost picture her tiny head hitting the floor—and the damage that would result.

No. Not on my watch. With adrenaline boosting the capabilities of my muscles to levels I didn’t think possible, I leap forward and manage to catch her in my arms just in time.

Even like this, I can tell the air has been knocked out of her—but this is nothing compared to the nightmare that could’ve been. In fact, when I think about it, my mom’s home ER doesn’t sound so frivolous anymore.

I’m building one. First thing tomorrow.

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