Page 47 of Unwrapping Romance

I quickly sat up, shaking and unable to breathe, gripping my throat. Jack turned on the light and wrapped his arm around me.

“Breathe, Sierra. Look at me and breathe.”

As hard as I tried, I couldn’t.

“Name five things in this room,” he said.

“Curtains, bed, nightstand, lamp, windows.” I began to calm down.

“There you go.” He held me. “You were having a nightmare.”

“It was nothing. I’m sorry I woke you. Let’s go back to sleep.”

“We’ll talk about it in the morning,” he said.

I lay there, my heart erratically racing from the nightmare that had plagued my life for the past twenty-two years. I raised my hand and softly stroked Jack’s arm wrapped around me. A sense of comfort and safety filled me. The type of safety I hadn’t felt in forever. I heard the bedroom door open, and a little body climbed on the bed and snuggled against me. I welcomed her and wanted her to feel the safety I felt.

Jack’s alarm went off. Reaching over, he shut it off. With a slight turn of my head, I looked at him.

“Morning,” he said. “I didn’t hear her come in here last night.”

“I think it’s going to take a while for her to get used to living here,” I whispered as not to wake Ellie.

“We need to get ready for work,” Jack said, climbing out of bed.

After showering, I walked back into Jack’s bedroom to wake up Ellie, only to find her sitting on the bathroom counter watching Jack shave.

“Good morning.” I smiled at her. “Let’s get you dressed.”

“She can stay here with me,” Jack said. “You can finish getting ready.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. She’s fine here.”

“Okay.” I smiled. “I’ll get her clothes out and lay them on the bed.”

After getting dressed, I went downstairs and pulled out the box of cereal we bought at the grocery store. I poured some in a bowl, added the milk, and took it over to the table. Jack walked down in his suit with Ellie.

“Your breakfast is at the table, Ellie.”

I grabbed my cup of coffee from the island and stared at Jack as he made a cup. The feelings I felt stirring inside me were strong and intensifying every day. One minute, I was a twenty-seven-year-old woman with no job, struggling to make ends meet, and the next, I was employed by a handsome billionaire, living in his home and helping him take care of his four-year-old child—a child I was quickly growing fonder of every day.

“What was up with that nightmare last night?” he asked, bringing the cup to his lips.

“I don’t even remember,” I lied, not wanting to discuss it.

“You were screaming for your mother.”

“Was I?” My brows furrowed.

“You never told me what happened to your parents,” he said. “In fact, I really don’t know much about you at all.”

“I guess you don’t. I really don’t know much about you either.” I sipped my coffee.

He walked over and placed his hand on my cheek, staring into my eyes.

“We’ll have to fix that.” The corners of his mouth curved upward.

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