Page 61 of Billionaire Romantic
The elevators doors start to close and I quickly push the button to keep them open.
What if I’m…
Andhomeless?
Good work, L. Emerson. Well done. Knocked up, broke and living destitute on the streets. Fantastic use of real world common sense. Way to go, girl.
But there’s another tiny part of me—the crazy, impractical part—that doesn’t hate the idea. Itisone of my wildest dreams, after all.
Did some corner of my psyche make me forget on purpose? Did my inner sex goddess and her Earth Mother twin sabotage me? You bitches! This is not what I need right now!
I need to get my shit together and get to this meeting. I’m still holding the button that keeps the doors open.
I take a deep breath, square my shoulders and step out of this elevator. But I feel dazed, my head full of visions of me living under a bridge with a hungry baby.
What would Noah do if I was?He was definitely enthusiastic about not using condoms.
On autopilot, I take a right and start walking down the hall to the only room with an open door, glass walls and, even from here, expansive views of the city skyline.
There’s a tall man standing near the door. And a second one. I can see another man with his back turned. He’s talking. Gruffly. His voice is loud enough for me to hear what he’s saying. “There’s no way they offered more than fifteen. Probably more like ten. If anything, we should go lower. We’re not fucking budging on fifteen. There’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that company is worth even close to that much.”
His voice sounds almost sounds familiar.But no, it’s more aggressive. More pissed off and cut-throat.
I get to the doorway and the two men closest to the door turn.
They’re both big, wide-shouldered and dark-haired. One is slightly taller, more stern and seasoned-looking. The other one has a more laid-back vibe and can’t quite contain his amusement. They’re both absurdly good-looking men.
God. Why do they look almost familiar?
The taller one steps forward and holds out his hand. “Cash Maddox.”
I shake it, just like my father taught me to. Firm but not too firm and keep it brief. “Hi, I’m Lucky Ashton.”
“This is my brother Colton, COO,” Cash is saying. It’s then that the third man turns. “And that’s Noah, my CFO.”
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Holy shit.
No.
No no nono noNO.
It’s him.
My Noah.
None other than the man I spent the entire weekend in bed with, doing shockingly intimate things, and now there’s a very small chance—okay, maybe notverysmall—that he may have actually impregnated me.
This can’t be happening.
Oh, it’s happening all right.
He looks different in this setting. More serious.That suit fits him in a way that should be illegal.Meaner. More intimidating. But no less handsome.
His brothers are hot, gorgeous men, but they don’t have that sexy teddy bear thing going on that Noah has. Except that he’s lost the best parts of his teddy-bear-ness in this setting. He’s more grizzly-on-the-prowl.
I hate him. I hate how fucking beautiful he is.I hate that he and his arrogant billionaire brothers have all the power in this situation and I have exactly none.
