Always My Babygirl: A Billionaire Romance

He is my anchor, the one who holds me together in the toughest of times. Challenges me, believes in me. Makes me feel like I can reach heaven from Earth when I’m in his arms like this.

Our fucking is hard and fast and gripping, the waves of pleasure crashing into the shores of my heart, until I can no longer separate the ecstasy my body feels from the love that swells within my chest.

When I climax, I come with a shuddering cry of victory, and concession. Because no matter my doubts, my hang ups, I am going to live here, with him, change my life, doing whatever I have to do to chase this feeling.

To be in his arms.EpilogueGabrielI’m pacing in front of a trellis bedecked with greenery and flowers, when I turn and catch Shane’s eye. He grins at me, and I don’t know if it’s because he’s happy I’ve finally made it to our wedding day intact, or because he’s got Lexi on his arm. He crooks a finger at me, and I walk over to him, grateful for something to do with this excess energy that floods through me.

“What’s taking so long?” I mutter.

Lexi giggles. She’s wearing a knee-length hot pink gown, her wrist adorned with a white rose corsage. Her platform heels bring her several inches below Shane’s tall stature.

Our best man and the maid of honor.

“Girls have things to talk to their moms about when they get married, Mr. Impatient,” Lexi says. She gives me a smile. It took a while, but she’s finally forgiven me and even warmed up to me. The fact that she’s hot for my best friend might have something to do with it, but I’m not complaining. Her eyes warm, and she touches my arm soothingly. “Just give them a minute, Gabriel. Enjoy yourself.” She gestures around us. “We’re literally standing in paradise.”

Shane grins. “She’s right, man. Do it.”

I roll my eyes and head back to where the minister stands, prepared to hear our vows, and take a look around.

As soon as she said yes and I slid a diamond on her finger, I was ready to take our vows. Patience isn’t exactly one of my virtues. We waited, though. She had things to prepare, and needed some time to get ready, and I respected that. But I’m so ready to take the next step with her.

Miranda wanted to see my family’s vineyard in France, and I thought it perfect for us to say our vows here together, right at Paloma Beach. Nestled on the Côte d’Azur, just half an hour drive from my family’s vineyard in Nice, we can have privacy and luxury all in one. The wedding planner operates a service here to collect our guests from our yachts and bring them to the wedding location right here on the beach.

Miranda had some residual hang-ups about the ocean, and I don’t blame her.

“Let’s get married on the beach,” Miranda said. “With you there with me, it will be healing for me.”

So that’s exactly what I planned.

It’s not out of the ordinary for people to marry on this beach, so it was easy enough to make things happen. Our wedding planner saw to it that we have our privacy, so no paparazzi in tow. Lexi, Shane, and Miranda’s mom came to visit, and we’ve all enjoyed a week at Paloma Beach leading up to the wedding.

I take in a deep, cleansing breath, the warm, salty air filling my lungs. In front of me lies white sand and crystal clear water reflecting the depths of the deep blue sky.

Behind the trellis stands a violinist, dressed in formal attire. He meets my eyes and nods, then begins to play. The haunting melody makes my heartbeat quicken.

It’s time.

I turn to see her coming our way, holding onto her mother’s arm, and time seems to stand still for a minute. She looks like an angel.

She’s wearing a simple white gown, filmy and elegant with a beaded neckline accentuating her voluptuous curves. Her hair’s all pinned to her head in swirls, little white roses peeking out beneath the loops of blonde. She holds a bouquet of matching white roses in her hand. Her eyes meet mine, and she smiles.

So beautiful.

And all mine.

I stand up straighter, and as they near, her mom clucks her tongue.

“He stepped right out of that novel for you,” she says with a teasing wink at me, and we all laugh. She leans in, kisses Miranda on the cheek, then hands her over to me.

Our vows pass in a blur, and I mean every damn one of the words. Her own words are soft and sweet, full of conviction, and she holds my eyes as she whispers, “I do.”

“You may kiss the bride.”

I gather her in my arms, bend her back, and give her a kiss that makes the few people here catcall and whistle. She flushes and grins, then holds up her bouquet in victory with a whoop and holler that make all of us break into laughter.