Carrying the Billionaire's Baby, Book 2: The Billionaire's Gift by Gwendolyn Bridges

Author:Gwendolyn Bridges
Language: eng
Format: mobi, pdf
Tags: billionaire erotica, alpha male, breeding drama, billionaire, breeding erotica, alpha male breeding, erotic romance, billionaire erotic romance, breeding

I shivered in the cold air on the rooftop, feeling like the world’s biggest idiot. I couldn’t go back inside. I didn’t want to face him again — not tonight, anyway.

It’s not that I was mad at Alexander. I wasn’t. I was mad at myself, mostly. Mad because I once again had maybe screwed up something good by putting my foot in my mouth. Mad because I had let myself start to fall for this man. Mad because I knew I was better and stronger than this — that I wasn’t a girl who was slave to her emotions all the time.

My brain knew all that, but then there was my heart. I couldn’t deny what I was feeling when I looked at him. I like to think I’d be mature enough to have a purely business relationship like this with anyone else. With anyone else, I could shut off my emotions and focus on the job. But Alexander was different.

I walked through the rooftop garden atop the tower until I came to the edge of the building. I sighed deeply and looked at the city. I wished so much then that I was a stronger person. I wished that Ms. Brook hadn’t said what she said and hadn’t forced me away from the safety of my innermost hopes. I wished Alexander could just be honest with me — not because I wanted to be his lover, but just because I so badly wanted to know him. To really know this mysterious man who had come into my life.

But that was too much to ask. I knew that now. Asking may have ruined everything.

I found a small stone bench next to an ornate fountain, and sat down heavily. The weight of all the emotion and confusion of the evening pressed down on my shoulders. I did my absolute best not to cry, thinking about him and even more thinking about what I’d have to say when I talked to him next. Which, I figured, would probably have to be pretty soon — because the only way off this rooftop was through his penthouse.

That cold night was alive with sounds and crackling energy. The fountain behind me babbled. Beneath me, traffic hummed and honked. I could hear the buzz of overhead planes. It all came together as a kind of peaceful urban tranquility.

But then there was another sound. Soft footsteps. And the sound of Alexander’s voice.

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