Page 79 of The Billionaire's Heart

I was going to work my ass off the rest of my life just to make her smile and hope that she loved me, too.

Waking up with her on my chest for the second day in a row, that is a surreal feeling. Hearing her tell me she loves me?

Epic.

“Ian, I don’t know what to say.”

I tilt her chin up so that she’s looking directly at me. “Say you love me again. Say you’ll stay. Say I’m not the only one that wants this.”

I watch as a myriad of feelings cross her face until she settles on a soft smile. “I do love you. I will stay. And, no, you’re not the only one that wants this.”

Our lips crash and the addicting honey flavor of her lips is familiar and comforting. She kneels up, wrapping her arms around my neck as I pull her into my arms.

This.

This right here.

This is why I’m doing all of this.

Just to be with her and to feel like this for the rest of my life.

While Mia is in the suite down the hall showering, I text Mr. Sutherland, letting him know that I’ll be running two hours late. It’s almost nine o’clock and I should have been in the air already for my three-hour flight to New York to make my one o’clock appointment with him, but my world exploded this morning. In a good way.

I’ve made arrangements with Paula, my house manager, to have Mia’s things moved from the suite down the hall to our room. Mia agreed to it… once I convinced her that my room was now our room.

“When are you leaving?” Mia asks me as she walks into the dining room. She’s wearing a white sundress with ladybugs on it and her hair is damp.

“Soon. I wanted to see you before I left.” I stand up and pull out her chair. “Here, eat. Paula made French toast.”

“Smells delicious.”

I kiss the top of her head and sit back down. “Are you sure you don’t want to go with me? I promise to get you home by bedtime.” I try to coax her into coming to New York with me. I just don’t want to be without her after our talk this morning.

She laughs at me. “No, I’ve already told you I can’t go. I have too much to do with my shop opening soon. I get the keys in nine days, and I have about two months of stuff to get done before then.” She takes my hand. “But I’ll be here when you get home.”

“Promise?”

“Always.” She lets go of my hand in favor of eating. “When are you going to be back?”

“Since I’m flying solo, I’ll be back tonight. The meeting is at three, so…” I look at my watch, calculating how long it will take for me to sign a thousand papers, “I should be back before nine."

"It must be nice having your own jet.” She teases me.

“It is.”

I watch her finish her French toast, internally debating on whether to tell her about the woman claiming to be her real mother. If it was me, would I want to know?

Definitely.

“Listen, Mia. Something happened the other day that I want to tell you about.”

She suddenly looks worried. “Okay.” She wipes her mouth with her napkin and places it on the empty plate.

“It may be nothing, but someone called the country club and managed to get Mrs. Wilcox on the phone. She claims to be your real mother.” She opens her mouth like she’s aboutto say something, but I hold up my hand to stop her. “It’s probably nothing, but just to be sure, I’ve ordered an extensive background check on her. I should have that back either today or tomorrow, and it’s completely up to you if you want to see it or not.”

Mia looks out the windows facing the pool deck and then out to the ocean. It’s a cloudy day, and the surf is rough. She takes a few minutes to think about what I said, and I let her process it all.

“Thank you. I appreciate it. Will you let me know when you get the information?”

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