Page 17 of Oops Baby for the Billionaire
A mistake.
Fierce, protective fury flares in her eyes. “Don’t say that. You’ve known about this baby for all of ten seconds.”
But I’m feeling fiercely protective myself. “Seven minutes and forty-nine seconds, actually. Coming up on ten minutes, and you haven’t asked me how I feel about you havingmybaby, so?—”
“Our baby,” she snaps. “If you won’t let me call itmybaby, I won’t let you do the same. You are a frightening man, Roman Thorne. I said it the night we met, didn’t I? You look powerful. Dangerous. And people talk.The Thorne King has a way of making problems disappear.Isn’t that right?”
Chapter 9
Willa
Roman—Mr.Thorne—looksfurious.
I’ve said too much. Way too much.
His eyes blaze as he backs away from me, curving around the meeting table until he’s as far away from me in the room as possible.
He’s dressed in a suit, exactly as he was that night, but the flirty, sexy, languid giant of a man who made it so easy to slide out of my clothes is nowhere to be seen.
In his place is exactly who people in this building fear: a ruthless, bloodthirsty billionaire.
And I’ve just insulted him.
“You think I would get rid of you?”
“I…I don’t know.”
He wraps his hands around the back of the chair in front of him and squeezes it until his knuckles turn white. “I am no threat to you, Willa. I will prove that to you.”
I don’t know what to say to that.
He stares at me for a long beat, then nods. “Okay. Okay. We’ll talk more later.” His gaze sweeps over my belly. “I have questions, of course.”
“Of course,” I hear myself repeating.
His firm, stern mouth tightens.
Don’t piss off the billionaire, I yell in my head.
“Have dinner with me tonight.” It’s an order.
My heart goes into freefall. “I…I can’t.”
“Change your plans.”
“I really can’t.” My ears burn. “I have a doctor’s appointment. It’s not easy to reschedule.”
“I will get you the city’s best doctors.”
The heat crawls onto my cheeks. “I’m running another errand after the appointment.”
“What’s more important than letting me get to know the mother of my child?”
“I’m looking at an apartment,” I say faintly.
Why am I telling him that? It’s none of his business.
“You’re moving? While you’re pregnant? I’ll provide assistance for that as well.”
