A Billionaire for Christmas

A child, a child with Raji, a child who would cement them together so that she couldn’t run away from him at every opportunity.

A little, logical, half-lizard child.

He could watch her grow large with his child, be there when the baby was brought into the world, and raise the child together.

Peyton was quite sure that when he brought Raji home to Connecticut to meet his parents, they would be thrilled that he was marrying a doctor instead of a flighty musician or artist.

But that’s not how it happened.Chapter Thirty-TwoFirst ProposalRaji huddled in Peyton’s arms.

She knew what “the right decision” was.

Of course, she did.

She had been planning to make that decision all along.

She was glad he supported her decision because all she wanted from him was comfort and understanding. And maybe a car ride. Perhaps some chicken soup.

Right?

She said, “I’m sorry I told you. I didn’t have to lay this on you.”

Peyton stroked her back. The calluses on his fingertips caught on the black silk of her dress. “I’m glad you told me. You shouldn’t go through this alone. I’m here for you.”

“I haven’t told anybody else. I can’t tell anyone else.”

His arms firmed around her, holding her more closely. “I’m glad you told me.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’m being supportive, right? I’m not a caveman who would throw you over my shoulder and haul you off to my cave. I’m woke.”

Raji giggled against his chest a little at the slang phrase. Yeah, Peyton wasn’t the kind of guy who would take an unreasonable, chauvinistic stand and insist that she have the baby and thus give up everything she had worked for her whole life. Raji wanted to be a doctor. It wasn’t the money or prestige she wanted. She genuinely wanted to make people well, though she needed the money, too. Cardiac surgery almost always helps people, and it helps them a lot. After cardiac bypass surgery, after people recover from having their ribcage broken and a bunch of veins sewn on their hearts, people feel much better and live such better lives. Heart transplants improve people’s quality of life so much that within weeks, far before they have recovered from the surgery, patients feel better than before she cut them.

She had never even considered oncology. Raji might be a logical, emotionless lizard person, but she wasn’t heartless.

Wait. Yes, she was.

What was she even thinking? Raji was a cold-hearted, reptilian lizard person who thoroughly enjoyed cutting people open and had no warm, fuzzy, weakling emotions at all. She had no problem with any of this. She was totally fine with it.

Peyton was acting exactly how she would want a guy to be: supportive, egalitarian, helpful, and kind.

She wouldn’t want some guy to drop to one knee and insist that they marry and she should stay home to raise a frickin’ baby.

No, Raji hadn’t hoped for any of that at all. She wasn’t that kind of girl.

Raji held Peyton’s waist even more tightly, while his hands stroked her hair and back.

“Um, it occurs to me—” Raji said.

Peyton’s hand covered her shoulder as he pressed her against his body. “Yes?”

“Well, we’ve both been checked lately for infectious diseases—”

“True.”

“—and I can’t get any more knocked up than I am.”

Peyton’s lungs filled with air under her ear. “Go on.”

“So, if we ever were going to throw caution to the wind and do it bareback—”

Peyton bent to the side, and his strong arms grabbed her around her back and under her knees.

“Oh, my God!” Raji shrieked as he lifted her and cradled her against his chest.

“See? I’m not a caveman who would throw you over his shoulder. I’m a gentleman who would carry you to the bedroom like a lady and then ravage you.”

“That’s so much better, I’m sure,” she laughed. From where she was cradled against Peyton’s massive chest, Raji peeked over his arm at the carpeting far below.

She had been hanging out with Peyton for so long, sitting around his house in New Jersey or her apartment in Los Angeles or any of the dozens of the hotel rooms across the country where they had been furtively meeting, it was easy to forget how shockingly tall Peyton was. While they were sitting or lying down, he didn’t tower over her.

The floor was so far below her that she felt like she was standing on the back of the couch.

Raji grabbed Peyton’s neck as a moment of vertigo whirled her around.

“I’ve got you.” Peyton strode toward the bedroom door and knocked it out of the way with his foot as he swept her inside.

He dumped her on the bed and clambered on top of her, his mouth grabbing her lips and his hand pressing her ribs and waist as he held himself above her.

Raji reached for him, holding him, but his hands on her felt different than usual.