Page 20 of Oops Baby for the Billionaire
I grab my bag, my heart pounding. Roman—Mr. Thorne,fuck—silently opens the door for me, and I’m hit by a wave of deja vu. The way I followed him onto the terrace that night, thinking he was a stranger I would never see again. Desperate to escape, to feel, to bask in his attention.
Now his attention is terrifying.
He calls for the elevator, and silence stretches as we wait.
When it arrives, he gestures for me to step on first, then follows, moving to the far side of the reasonably big elevator car.
It’s still not big enough for the two of us, and the baby in my belly, and the full weight of all of his questions that I don’t have answers for.
“What time is your appointment?” he finally asks, breaking the silence.
“Six-thirty.”
He glances at the watch on his wrist. “Is the clinic on campus?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to go home and change? Or get something to eat?”
I shake my head. I want to cry.
He says my name softly, low and quiet.
I shake my head.
He steps forward, reaching for me—but the elevator arrives on the first floor.
The doors open, and I twist past him, blindly heading outside.
“This way,” he murmurs, suddenly beside me, his arm ghosting around my shoulders—guiding, but not actually touching.
A black limo is waiting at the curb.
A man in a suit opens the door for us. I stumble onto the nearest seat, and Roman follows me in, taking the bench across from me.
The door closing, with a heavyclick, makes me jump.
Roman holds up his hands, his gaze locked on my face. And then he sighs.
“It’s okay,” he says wearily, at the same time as I stammer out, “I’m really sorry.”
We stare at each other.
The car starts, then pulls away from the curb.
“Do I need to give him directions?” I ask.
Roman shakes his head. Then he says, “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
As I don’t know what to say to that, I stay very still. Very quiet.
He tips his head back and curses under his breath.
“I am the one who owes you all the apologies,” he growls, lowering his head so he can pin his hard gaze on me again. “I should not have done…anything I did that night. I will make it right for you, and the baby.”
“Mr. Thorne, you need to know I was willing.” My breath puffs out of me, shallow and panicked. I can’t let him re-write what happened. That night being so beautiful has kept me going these four months.
“I amnotin the habit of taking the virginity of twenty-year-olds.”
