Page 12 of Quadruplets For The Broody Billionaire

It hadn’t been remorseful drinking, she thought as her head hit the pillow. If anything, this part of the evening had been a celebration. She was glad she’d hooked up with a guy she hardly knew, something she had never expected to hear herself admit. She was glad to have gotten out of her comfort zone, even if it had only been for one night.

Maybe the rest of her life would stop feeling so routine now that she had this memory to hold on to.

The last thought she had as she drifted off to sleep was of his kiss.

* * *

“You’re meeting that guy today?” Mike asked over the phone the next morning.

“Yeah.” Amy sat on the edge of her hotel bed, scuffing her feet against the carpet. The room was a very nice one, but after the evening she’d spent in the penthouse, it had begun to seem sort of drab. Instead of a balcony behind French doors, there was a window that didn’t open overlooking a parking garage. Instead of marble in the bathroom, she had enamel. Her bed, which had seemed large and luxurious when she’d checked in, now felt claustrophobic. The sheets were too scratchy, the comforter not warm enough. Her pillows were nowhere near as soft as the ones upstairs.

Amy had never been someone who needed to pamper herself. Even this hotel room was nicer than what she usually would have gone for. But she couldn’t help making the comparison now that she’d spent time in both rooms, and this one was definitely coming up short.

“What time?” Mike asked her.

“What?” She’d allowed herself to get distracted.

“What time are you meeting him?”

“Oh. At ten.”

“When do you have to leave your hotel?”

“Not for about half an hour.”

He sighed. “I wish you could have had him come into the hospital and meet with you there.”

“He didn’t want to do that,” she explained. “He said so in one of his emails.”

“And you don’t find that weird?”

“I completely understand it, actually,” Amy said. “If he’s been dealing with doctors lately, of course he doesn’t want to spend his time at a hospital. All we have to do is talk about his case today. There’s no reason to do that in a clinical setting. We can do it just as easily in a coffee shop.”

“At least tell me the coffee shop is somewhere really public.”

“It’s in the heart of Denver, Mike. It’s right by my hotel. You’re making too big a deal out of this.”

“I don’t like the idea of my little sister meeting up with strange men, that’s all. I don’t think there’s anything weird about that.”

Amy had to suppress a giggle. If he knew what she had been doing the night before, Mike would lose his mind.

She’d never tell him, of course. She was never going to tell anybody. That secret was coming with her to her grave. And now that the night was in the past, she wasn’t going to think about it anymore. She was going to move on.

At least, that was what she told herself.

* * *

Amy found herself wondering, as she waited for Adriano Canali to arrive at the coffee shop they’d agreed upon, whether she shouldn’t hook up with handsome strangers at bars more often.

There was no denying that the encounter had left her invigorated. It was as if a part of her that had been ignored for too long had woken up. Mike had been right—she really hadn’t had a life. Now she felt as if—for one evening, at least—she had.

It had been an outrageous thing to do, hooking up with a guy she didn’t know, not even bothering to learn his name. But she’d been walking around since then feeling as if she had an exciting secret. Even now, sitting in this coffee shop in her tailored suit, waiting to meet a new patient, she was aware that there was a wanton part of her. A part of her that broke rules and took what she wanted, and that nobody else could see.

That was a very exciting thought.

She sipped her drink and frowned. Mr. Canali was now ten minutes late. Given the urgency he’d expressed in his email, she would have thought he would be on time. But she’d try to be patient. She knew how hard it was to live with Barks-Howard’s.

Behind her, she heard the jingle that signaled the coffee shop door opening and turned toward it automatically. Maybe this would be her patient.

---