A Billionaire for Christmas

I parked my suitcase where it was and headed further into the apartment to search for Kleenex or toilet paper. I couldn’t remember where the bathroom was, though, and once I was in the living room, the glass windows called to me with their dizzy, terrifying view. I approached them cautiously, drawn to them like a tugboat being pulled at sea. I couldn’t stop if I tried, even as I felt the thud thud of my heartbeat against my chest as I got closer. It was high up—so high—and looking down felt like being clutched in the fist of a giant, a fist that squeezed my torso until my lungs could no longer inflate.

I closed my eyes and the panic didn’t ease, and still I felt like I was walking the edge. I was so far from it when all of this with Dylan started. I’d wanted a man who would indulge me with a no-strings sexual education. He was a man who didn’t believe in strings. It had been a perfect match. We’d been fated to meet.

But I’d expected banging and dirty talk, sneaking away to meet up for something sordid and naughty. That wasn’t what this had turned out to be at all. This was heartfelt conversations and seeing a magnificent man trying his best with his son. This was human and sweet and real, and I’d be lying to myself to say it didn’t change everything.

So here I was now. Walking the edge. Trying with all my might not to panic and look down. Knowing there was only one sure way to stay safe.

Knowing if I didn’t turn and walk away, I’d fall.Chapter ElevenDylanMy heart pounded for long minutes after she left us in the lobby. My hands were sweaty, and I hadn’t even put on my gloves yet. The encounter had been unexpected, and I was free-falling in the aftermath.

“She’s pretty,” Aaron admitted as we walked outside.

“Is she?” As if I’d been fooling anyone. As if I hadn’t been simultaneously trying to tamp down my erection while she’d made casual conversation with my teenage son.

God, she was closer to his age than mine!

Did that make me a sick man to want her as much as I did?

Possibly. Probably. Definitely when I considered the kind of poison that I would be to a guileless innocent like she was, in her fashionably ripped jeans and pink-glossed lips. Colliding into her had been like crashing into sunshine. She made me feel warm in places that had been cold for oh, so long.

What did that mean that I did for her? Did she absorb the pervasive chill from my bones? Did I leave her feeling bitter, bleak, and barren?

What kind of person could take so freely from a light like her? I’d beat anyone who attempted to do the same to Aaron.

I didn’t want to be that callous of a human. I refused to be.

I stopped short on the pavement and turned to my son. “I’ve reconsidered. You can walk as long as you go straight home. No dallying.”

Aaron beamed with gratitude then scooted on his way.

And, with a sigh, I retreated back inside to do what must be done. If I was going to put a stop to this farce of a situation with Audrey, it was best to do it quick and fast. Best not to leave her waiting.

She was at the window when I stepped in. I knew she’d heard me arrive. Her head had shifted toward the sound of my footsteps, though she didn’t completely turn to face me.

That made this easier.

“I think we need to reevaluate,” I began.

But she spoke at the same time. “I didn’t mean to come so early. I…” She pivoted in my direction. “I’m sorry. Go ahead.”

“You first,” I prodded, determined to remain the gentleman.

“I...just…” She pushed a lock of hair back from her face. “I got here earlier than I meant to, for which I truly apologize. I didn’t think for a second I’d end up seeing you with your son.” Her tone of voice suggested her line of thinking matched mine.

Why was that so disappointing?

I cleared my throat. “It does put things into perspective, doesn’t it?”

She nodded ever so carefully.

“It’s best, I suppose, that we figured this out now.” I attempted a smile.

“It is. Definitely best.” She couldn’t meet my eyes. “I’ll go.” She lifted her chin and started toward me, toward the door.

Cold washed down the back of my neck. She couldn’t stay, but I didn’t want her to leave. “That’s not necessary, is it? Your train doesn’t depart for hours. Surely you could…”

She could...what?

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said quietly, only a meter from me now.

“No. I suppose not.” I could feel the heat radiating off her body. I wanted to bathe in her sun. I wanted to bask and burn, and when she went on her way, I’d settle back into the familiarity of the gloom. Was that so wrong?