My Secret Irish Baby: A Second-Chance, Secret Baby Contemporary Romance (Irish Kiss Book 7) by Sienna Blake

Author:Sienna Blake [Blake, Sienna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sb Publishing
Published: 2020-09-28T16:00:00+00:00

Michael

I walked till blisters formed at the back of my heel, on the bottom of my foot, at the sides of my toes. I walked till there was a hole in each sock. I walked till the craggy peaks of the distant mountains, visible in each intersection I passed, were outlined with a faint ribbon of pale yellow light. I walked and I walked and I walked and I put miles between myself and Abbi and the little girl with green eyes. The little girl I would not let myself call my daughter.

And yet miles weren’t enough.

I needed to put more distance between me and this sudden truth, if I had any chance at all of outrunning it.

Once I returned to my penthouse in the early morning, my body was weary, limbs shaking with fatigue, eyes heavy and stinging, but I did not allow myself to sit even for a moment. If I allowed myself to sit, I might think about the consequences of what I'd seen in Abbi's apartment. If I rested my body for just a moment, my mind might take over. If I stopped, I would see her again and I feared I wouldn't be able to move.

I shifted through my penthouse like a sleeping shark—in motion, but with blank, empty black eyes. I texted Caroline back in Dublin:

Get me on the first flight out of Denver.

I slipped my cell phone into my pocket and I retrieved my suitcase from beneath the bed. I packed my shirts with the utmost care and diligence and focus. If I focused on folding perfectly along a seam, I wasn't focused on the question Abbi answered without a word. If I concentrated on preventing wrinkles in fine linen, I couldn't concentrate on the years I'd lived without knowing I had a daughter. If I could devote myself to my career, my success, my accolades, my cars, my art, my loft, my clothes, my watches, my vacations to remote islands, my shiny plaque displaying my name and title outside my office, perhaps I could prevent her from entering my mind for the rest of my life.

If I kept going, if I kept focused, if I didn't stop, I could believe this. I could.

Caroline's text made my cell phone buzz in my pocket.

Caroline: To Dublin?

Me: First flight out is all that matters. I don't care to where. I'll be at the airport in an hour.

In the luxurious, spacious bathroom, I was careful not to glance at myself in the mirror as I gathered my toiletries into my travel bag. I was afraid of what I would see: a haggard man with a five o'clock shadow and eyes red with confusion and hurt because his whole world had been turned upside down.

But if I didn't look up as I grabbed my razor, my shampoo, my comb, that man didn't exist. If I didn't look up, I could imagine myself as I was before I saw those green eyes. I could imagine a confident, self-assured, ruthless businessman in control of himself and his future and his happiness.

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