Page 50 of The English Billionaire's Obsession

“I’m coming too,” Amelia says, taking my hand.

“Ami…”

“Please. I can’t stand waiting around to hear something terrible has happened.”

“Fine, but you’re waiting in the car.”

As we walk out, she leans up and whispers in my ear. “Did you mean it?”

I smooth my hand over the small of her back, keeping it there as we ride the lift down. Then I lean close and whisper into her ear, “Every word. Are you open to the idea?”

“Of a family? Yes, very,veryopen.”

CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO

Amelia

Tommy sits in the driver’s seat, driving atjustthe speed limit, the Thames flitting by us as we cross the city. Two security cars drive behind.

Tommy was too amped-up to sit in the back of the car, waiting. The muscles are tight on his forearms as if ready to snap the steering wheel out of place and toss it out the window. He’s breathing hard, his teeth clenched, but when we hit a red light, he glances at me and softens just a bit. My heart glows as I remember what he said in the office and, after, in the elevator—oops, I mean lift—when he asked me if I was interested.

We didn’t get a chance to say anything else. Now it’s floating in the air between us, this revelation, this admission that there’s a new aspect to the relationship we want to explore. One that means a life together. Surely he knows that.

“How many?” he asks when the light changes.

I don’t even have to ask what he means. “I’m not sure. Maybe three or four?”

He grins. “In that case, we might as well round it off to five.”

Five beautiful children, each unique in their own way.

“Are you seriously serious?”

He laughs gruffly but then cuts it off, along with the grin, like he’s annoyed at himself for showing any positive emotion right now.

“I’m seriously serious, Ami, my cute, perfect American. The first time I saw you…”

“What, Tommy?”

“I can’t say this now,” he snarls. “I have to focus on Loki.”

“Yes, right, obviously, but me too.”

He glances at me, his lip twitching.

“When I saw you in the rain, I immediately knew it. The man of my dreams had come to visit me and look at us. A couple of days later, we’re already talking about this. Sure, I haven’t got much experience…”

Any, really.

“But I have to believe that means something. Something special is happening here. I know it.”

“It is,” he says fiercely, touching my knee, squeezing with possession. “We’re building something, but…”

“I know… later.”

“Later,” he says passionately.

* * *

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