Page 23 of Kinks of a Billionaire
Jesus, it took all my willpower to say it. The metallic taste of blood on my tongue matched the distaste of Stuart having any connection to Willow or the baby. Not because I was jealous—although, yes, I was—but mainly because the man was dangerous, and Willow’s face was a stark reminder that she would never be safe around him.
After a long silence, she finally responded with resignation.
“Obviously I can’t stop him from coming around his own child, but the baby’s safety will be my priority. Mymãealways said that if a man hits you once, they’ll do it again. If they cheat on you once, they’ll do it again. And I trust she’s right.”
“Good.” I exhaled a long, slow breath and pushed a hand through my hair. I agreed wholeheartedly, and it was exactlythat which had me questioning for years whether I was good enough for Willow. I didn’t cheat—not exactly, although my sexual preferences could be perceived as such. Degradation, praise, masochism, spanking, and sometimes even tying my partner up and whipping them.
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
Frustration and self-loathing burned beneath my skin. Right now, all I wanted was to be what Willow wanted and needed, but I was fairly certain that her finding out about my affinity for BDSM would forever change her perception of me.
AndthatI couldn’t handle. I couldn’t lose her as a friend too.
The pressure in my chest expanded while her clean, warm scent filled the car, intoxicating me while clouding my head.
I stayed silent for several blocks, weaving through parts of Lisbon, my mind running a million miles an hour. There had to be a way to help her out of this mess—a way to help ease my guilt at having brought Stuart into her life.
We were sitting at a red light when the solution hit me like a ton of bricks.
“Weare getting married.” Twin flames ignited into a full-blown inferno in my chest with the words out in the open, bouncing off the Land Rover’s windows like a ping-pong ball.
Willow sat up straight, staring at me wide-eyed. With each passing second, I was certain it was the best idea of my life.
“We’rewhat now?”
My pulse beat a furious rhythm as I pulled over a block from the hotel and locked eyes with her.
“We’ll get married,” I repeated patiently. The roughness of my voice matched the intensity of my emotions. Goddammit, I needed to get a grip before I scared her away. “There’s no better way to make Stuart understand he’ll never have you. Depending on how this next hour goes with the motherfucker, he’ll live, but he won’t step foot in your baby’s life.” Although I told myselfthat I was doing this for her, I knew it was entirely for selfish reasons. “You don’t want me to kill Stuart, and I don’t want him thinking he can ever get close to you. I may have connections in the underworld and access to more weapons than a small army, but Stuart has connections too. He also has an ego that won’t enjoy being bruised.”
I had no desire to ever again experience the terror that gripped me when I found Willow hurt in front of my home. Even more terrifying was the possibility of me not being there.
Surprise crossed her face, and she tilted her head in what I hoped was consideration of my proposal. It wasn’t the most romantic one, but it was out in the open, and I refused to take it back.
“Royce, I’m pregnant.” She spoke slowly, as if she were speaking to a child.
“I’ll take care of you and the baby.”
“But—” Her sentence cut off with a soft gasp when I wrapped my hand around her nape, closing the distance between us.
“Marry me, Willow.” Insecurity, such a strange and unfamiliar feeling, snaked its way into my heart. “We’re best friends. We already know we get along. We can make it work.”
“That’s not exactly the way I envisioned…” She faltered, swallowing, before she added, “A proposal.”
“Fuck normal, Willow. This is you and me. I promise to protect you, honor you, and be good to you and your baby.” The roughness of my voice startled me, but not more than the intensity of these feelings twisting inside my chest.
“But I’m broke and jobless.”
The moment the words were out of her mouth, she knew she slipped. Our gazes met and awareness flushed through her with the knowledge it was another secret she’d kept from me.
A stray strand of hair wisped around her face and I lifted my hand to tuck it behind her ear. The touch was light and reverent,and a tiny shiver racked her body. I couldn’t tell if it was a positive or negative reaction, so I focused on her face instead.
“When did you lose your job?” My voice was soft with a hint of vehemence.
“A few weeks ago.” I remained quiet, seeing the lie on her face. “A little over a month ago.”
“Why?” Chewing on her bottom lip, she was probably debating whether it was wise to lie or not. “I want the truth, Willow.”
She sighed in resignation. “Stuart showed up during one of the productions and lost his temper. My boss didn’t take it well.” She swallowed. “He wasn’t fond of physical violence.”
