Page 57 of The Billionaire's Accidental Legacy

He cleared his throat. “She thought I was exceptional. She loved me. More than anything. She told me all the time she never understood what her life was about, who she was or what the day-to-day meant until she had me. When she was alive, I was happy. But I didn’t realize just how much she held everything together. I didn’t realize just how much she was protecting me. Because once she was gone, I was no longer under the illusion that my father felt similarly.”

“I’m sorry... What happened?”

“We don’t need to speak of it.”

And she realized that he couldn’t speak of it.

“Okay.”

For the first time in her recent memory, she was comfortable letting something go. She wasn’t certain why; it was just she knew she didn’t want to hurt him. She cared about him.

It was such a dangerous thing because when he had left her days ago, she had felt so bereft. Even though she had asked for it. She wasn’t reliable when it came to him. Not in any way.

She had made one mistake after another with him. And she was used to being unerring. Analytical. She had never been analytical with him, not for one moment of their association. And she continued not to be. Her own mind made no sense around him.

Her mind was playing tricks on her, and that was part of why she had grown up so analytical. To make it so the mind as strong as hers could never do that.

She turned to face him, looked at his strong profile. Those beautiful eyes...

And it was all feeling when she looked at him. Nothing to do with analysis or equations. She couldn’t even tell what he was thinking.

She realized that with alacrity. When she had first met him she felt like she could read him, and now the more she got entangled with him the less she felt like she could.

It just felt like...

Feeling. It was all she could think to call it.

“Are we nearly to our shopping destination?”

“Yes. There will be people there, waiting to take a picture. I called ahead. The best paparazzi photos are staged.”

“Really?”

“Of course. If you ever see a photograph with favorable lighting that immediately tells you what brands the woman in the picture is wearing, you can be certain that she called the photographers out to the scene herself.”

“That is brilliant.”

“You’re a con artist. That never occurred to you?”

“Shocking though you may find it, I have not often spent my time ruminating on celebrity. I had bigger fish to fry.”

“Well, fry your little fish out of the car,” he said as they pulled up to the curb. “And smile.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

HEWATCHEDASJessie got out of the car and posed like an absolute champion for the photographer that was waiting.

She caught on quickly, and she understood the need for all of this.

He got out of the car and followed behind, doing his own best to look irritated by the proceedings. He put a protective hand on her, another hand on her stomach. Each moment that he spent touching her was like pressing his palm against a naked flame.

This woman. Would he ever get used to the proximity of her? She was asking all kinds of questions he didn’t easily have answers to. Well, he could have easily answered how his mother had died, except the words often got stuck in his throat, and he didn’t want to speak of his dead brother. More than anything he did not wish to speak of that.

But also, she was asking how he knew what a child needed. And perhaps the answer was in the deficits. He leaned in and whispered in her ear as they walked into the door of the boutique where he had made a private appointment for them. “I think I know what our child needs because I know what we didn’t get.”

She turned to look up at him, eyes wide, her lips parted slightly. And he knew that would make a fantastic photo.

As soon as they were inside, they had privacy.

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