Page 9 of Billionaire's Forbidden Baby

“I don’t—I—”

“Was it reallythatbad?” I ask, memories of that night running through my head. It definitely wasn’t bad for me, and I was sure at the time that I was more than attentive… hard not to be when a woman has a body like that.

“No,” Blair says shortly, her cheeks coloring even darker. “It wasn’t—it isn’t—”

I lean in, and the room seems even smaller now. The scent of her perfume is intoxicating. Blair sways toward me and I know she must be feeling the attraction as well.

It wasn’t all adrenaline and bad choices that night.

“We don’t need to have a huge discussion about it, Blair. Not right now. There’s no time. But I think we should make a deal. Whether we like it or not, we’re stuck together for a few months, right?”

She nods mutely.

“Okay. Then let’s make the best of it. If you’re polite to me, I’ll be polite to you. We can play it professional.”

Blair frowns but agrees with me. She glances at the door, then looks up at me with those big brown eyes. “No one here can know. That’s my stipulation—we don’t talk about it.”

It.

The night I had her wrapped around me as I drove into her over and over. The night she ran her fingers through my hair and got on her knees before me.

“Okay. Deal.”

I pull back just enough to fit a handshake in between us. Blair pauses, her hand on the door, as if she wants to say something. But she just shakes her head and opens the door.

“Blair,” I call quietly as she steps out. She half-turns back.

Any moment now, my father and sister could step out of that conference room and catch sight of us and wonder why I’m holed up with our hot lawyer in a closet.

But I say, a little teasingly, “You look great in that skirt.”

Chapter 4

Blair

TheWeaverEstateisabout an hour outside of the city. Unfortunately, the drive gives me a lot of time to think… to remember…

I can’t get Nick Weaver out of my head.

Not just the shock of seeing him at the office the other day, but that entire night with him. How unexpected it was, howsatisfyingit was. I’d felt like a thirsty woman who finally found water, drinking down every drop of him, scraping my nails over every inch of his muscular body.

I shake my head, concentrating as I pull into the drive. Huge oaks border either side and break open to reveal a stunning mansion. It’s dark stone, with a million windows. There’s an Alpha Romeo parked out front and I park just behind it in the circular drive.

The door opens before I’m even out of the car. I half-expect to see a servant of some kind, but Nick Weaver himself is waiting, lounging in the doorway.

“Blair,” he greets, a little too casually for my taste. I nod and give him a tight smile.

“Mr. Weaver.”

“Please,” he says with a grin, “call me Nick.”

Oh, I called him Nick. Over and over and over. Cried it out, actually.

Pushing the memories back, I follow him into the house. He gives me a brief tour before starting up a wide, dark wood staircase.

“My father’s office,” he explains, turning right at the top and opening double doors.

The room is beautiful and pristine. A small bar is off to the far side, and large windows behind the desk look out onto the back of the estate. There is a huge wooden desk and two upholstered chairs in front of it. It’s all very classy, very sophisticated.

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