Paris with the Billionaire

“Well, firecracker,” he says, with a slight smirk on his bloodied lip. “Do you accept his apology?”

“I shouldn’t,” I say, glaring at Zack. “Do you hear me, Zack? I should let my man choke you right here. You had no right to go after me and my family. But… Yes, let him go, Forrest. He’s not worth it.”

Forrest drops him and steps back, nodding to the security man with his hand still on my arm.

“Alright, boys,” he says. “You can apprehend these bastards now while we wait for the police to arrive. I’m going to go and get cleaned up. I’ll be inside if they need to speak with me.”

“You heard him,” the security man Larry barks, as the others move in for backup. “Let’s make sure these assholes stay right where the boss put them.”

Forrest walks over to me and takes my hand. He’s shaking slightly as he walks back across the street and into the hotel lobby.

People glance at us in curiosity – they probably heard some commotion outside – but we ignore them as we walk over to the private elevator.

It’s only once we’re inside and alone that he lets out a trembling breath, looking at me with his bright wolfish eyes.

“I wanted to kill him,” he growls shakily. “For the way, he spoke to you, for what he did to you… I wanted to end him, Fiona.”

“But then we wouldn’t get to spend the rest of our lives together,” I murmur, moving close to him and laying my face against his chest.

His heart hammers through his pectoral, drumming against the side of my face.

He wraps his arms around me and crushes me to him, bringing his face to my hair and inhaling deeply, contentedly, his hands gripping tightly onto my shoulders.

“I sort of lost control there didn’t I,” he chuckles.

“You think?” I whisper, a smile quirking my lips upward.

“I just couldn’t stand the idea of him thinking he could scare you. Because he can’t, Fiona, not now, not ever. I’ll protect you for the rest of our lives. The bastard needed to know it. No—more than that. He needed to feel it.”

“I think he did,” I murmur. “That was crazy. There were seven of them and you went through them like they were nothing.”

“Seven, seven hundred, it doesn’t matter,” he growls. “I’d fight an entire army for you, firecracker. And don’t you ever forget that.”

Chapter Eighteen

Forrest

I grip onto my woman’s leg, squeezing her thigh as the sedan glides through the city. The sun has started to set, blazing reds and oranges making everything around us sparkle like we’re in a dream.

Taking her to the surprise destination wasn’t supposed to happen so late, but fighting Zack and his hired thugs wasn’t part of the plan, either.

We’ve spent most of the day with the police, giving statements, waiting to see if I’m going to be arrested or charged for the part I played in the violence.

But once the police saw the video of Zack hitting me a few times before I responded – and of Zack setting his thugs on me – they let me go.

I turn to find my woman smiling over at me, her hair tousled and freshly-washed around her shoulders.

She’s wearing a deep purple dress with a low cut, showing off a tantalizing slice of her cleavage, enough to turn me rock solid and make me half-feral.

After, a voice roars inside of me. This needs to be done.

“What do you think will happen now?” she murmurs.

“With Zack?”

She nods.

“He’ll be arrested for assault and extradited to the States. His family, once they see how easily I humiliated him and learn about the FBI investigation, will implode into in-fighting. Another family will take its place. Or maybe the FBI will win and stop the mob rule for good. Either way, you’re safe. Your family is safe.”

“Our family,” she says passionately, squeezing onto my hand. “You’re not alone anymore, Forrest. You’re never going to be alone again.”

I smirk and smooth my hand from her thigh to her belly, holding it there so I can feel the life growing inside of her.

“I can feel our baby in there,” I tell her.

She giggles and places her hand atop mine, pressing down so my hand is applying more pressure through her dress, against her skin.

“I’m pretty sure that’s impossible,” she says.

“Maybe it is,” I growl. “But it should be impossible to fall for a woman just by seeing her across a busy street in a café window. It should be impossible how much I care for you, how deeply, how certain I am that you’re the woman I’m going to be with for the rest of my life. So don’t use the word impossible with me, firecracker.”

She blinks, tears glistening in her eyes.

“You mean that?” she whimpers.

“Of course,” I growl. “It’s me and you—”