Page 118 of Billionaire Bachelor

He takes his gloves off, pulls the ring out of the box and holds it up toward me. “Marry me, Pip.”

My cheeks hurt from smiling so hard as atear rolls down my face. “Was there a question mark at the end of that, or…? Cause I’ve gotta be honest, I’m a little unclear.”

Logan’s chest rumbles with silent laughter as he shakes his head. “Only you, Rosie. Only you.”

I peel off my gloves and decide to stop torturing the poor man. “Of course I’ll marry you. Gimme the ring.”

His eyes sparkle with amusement as he slides the ring on my finger.

As cool as I’m trying to play it, my hand trembles as he does it, which does not go unnoticed. Logan sees me like no one else ever has. He knows I hate drawing attention when I’m anxious, so he just gives my hand a reassuring squeeze, which instantly soothes my nerves.

The second the ring is in place, I tackle him, taking us both to the ground. We’re only wearing parkas, so we probably shouldn’t be rolling around in the snow, but neither one of us cares as we make out under the glow of the moon.

Logan pulls back just enough to cup my face, brushing his nose against mine. “I love you, Pip.”

I grin, leaning into the bunny kisses. “I love you. Now take me inside before we get frostbite. And we should probably have some kind of dirty celebration since you put a ring on it.”

I belt out a surprised laugh as Logan abruptly stands with me in his arms, running toward the cabin. “Baby, we’ve got a lifetime of dirty celebrations ahead of us.”

I smile.

Bring it on, Edwards.

In the mood for some more dirty-talking billionaires? Turn the page for a preview of Billionaire Bosshole: An Enemies-to-Lovers Office Romance.

BILLIONAIRE BOSSHOLE

(PREVIEW)

QUINN

“His dick must behuge.”

I nearly sprayed my coffee all over the closing elevator doors. “Sylvie!”

“What?” My best friend shrugged. “If you think about it, statistically, he’s packing some serious heat. You’ve seen his bulge.Goddamn,what I wouldn’t give to be on the receiving end of that.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. I was going to need another triple latte to deal with her today. I loved Sylvie to death, but sometimes her lack of filter could be a bit much. Case in point: this discussion in a crammed elevator at eight o’clock on a Monday morning. I had no idea how our conversation had even taken this turn. One minute we were talking about getting drinks after work, and the next it was all dicks, all the time.

“Will you please stop talking about the man’s penis?” I whisper-shouted.

She laughed. “Oh, c’mon, Quinn, you can’t say you haven’t thought about it. The man’s a giant—what is he, like six-foot-three, six-foot-four? Easily two hundred ten pounds of drool-worthy muscle. I wonder how big of a baby he was. I’d bet my Chanel clutch that he’s been obliterating vaginas since birth.”

I groaned and mouthed an apology to the elderly woman standing beside me.

Why is this damn thing so slow?

I could not step off the elevator fast enough once we finally arrived on the fifty-first floor.

“Quinn!” Sylvie shouted, her ridiculous heels click-clacking on the marble floor. “Slow down!”

I sighed and waited for her to catch up. “You do realize there were at least a dozen other people trapped in that elevator with us, right?”

She scrunched her brows. “And?”

“Oh my God, you crazy woman, you can’t just go around talking about the size of a man’s cock. Especially not Ronan Maxwell’s cock,inhis own damn building! What if an employee heard us?”

Sylvie laughed. “First of all, if anyone has a problem talking about cock size, or cocks in general, they need to loosen up or get laid. Secondly, I never said the man’s name.” She looked around the reception area. “Although,youjust did. Quite loudly, in fact.”