Page 19 of Oops Baby for the Billionaire (Oops Baby #3)

Willa

Roman picks me up from work again.

“People are going to talk,” I point out as we wait for the elevator.

He just shrugs. “I don’t want you to be a secret.”

In my belly, the baby kicks for joy.

I take a deep breath and step onto the elevator car.

He follows. “Do you want to be a secret?”

We’ve just stormed right past the obvious first question of, do I want to be his?

I guess crawling onto his lap naked last night made it clear that I do.

“I’m nervous,” I admit.

“If it would make you feel better, I can make it loudly known that we knew each other before you started working for one of my companies.”

Oh, the confidence of powerful men. I roll my eyes. “I think the fact I’m halfway into a pregnancy covers that fact off. It’s just…your reputation is so massive. You are so massive. Literally and figuratively. And then there’s…me.”

He frowns. “What does that mean? You’re funny and sexy and sweet.”

I believe that he sees that when he looks at me.

I don’t want to tell him that’s not how anyone else in the world sees me like that.

“Willa,” he growls. “Tell me that you know how lovely you are.”

The elevator doors open, and a man about my age almost steps in before he recognizes Roman. “Oh, sorry, sir.”

Roman grabs the front of his shirt. “Do you think this woman is beautiful?”

“Uh…” The young man gives me a desperate look.

“Let him go, Roman.”

“She’s very, um, pretty? But I haven’t looked at her, I swear. Until just now because you asked. Sir.”

“Good answer.” Roman turns them around so the young man is standing in the centre of the elevator, and we are at the door. “Thank you.”

“Any time, sir!”

“Don’t call me sir.”

“Yes, s?—”

I grab Roman’s hand and tug him across the lobby. “That’s enough.”

“I’ll ask more people.”

“Please don’t.” I get in front of him and put both hands on his chest. “I will get over my nerves about dating The Thorne King.”

“Dating?” He frowns. “That sounds far too temporary.”

“Well, it’s only been one day,” I start to protest, my voice going a little tinny at the end because he’s sinking down on one knee.

In the lobby of Thorne International, at the end of the work day.

His employees stream around us.

“Willa, you have captivated me for four long months. And as you say, The Thorne King has a terrible reputation.”

“I didn’t say terrible, I don’t think,” I mutter.

He squeezes my hand. “I bet they all agree that I’d be a softer, gentler tyrant if I had a Thorne Queen by my side.

Someone soft and little, who can placate me with a simple touch of her hand.

Who isn’t afraid to roll her eyes at me when I’m being fearsome.

Who can make me laugh, and challenge me to be better, every day of my life. ”

“Oh.” I’m getting choked up. “That’s all very nice.”

“You’re very nice. And I hate that you’ve been alone this long. I don’t want you to ever be alone, ever again. Will you marry me?”

I think about the flannel PJs in the bag that’s fallen to my feet.

The way I know he’ll grin and laugh and put them on at bedtime, to humor me.

I think about the hunger in his eyes last night as he ordered me to bed, because it was important that I sleep on my decision.

And as I think about his question—not because I’m uncertain, but because it’s important—he patiently waits for me.

He doesn’t care if people are watching.

He doesn’t care if I hesitate.

I’m not hesitating, though.

“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes, I will marry you, Roman Thorne. Because I love you.”

“Damn fucking straight you love me,” he growls as he slides a simple diamond ring on my finger.

Simple for a billionaire, I mean. It’s fucking huge.

He rises to his feet and takes me in his arms. “I love you, too, gorgeous. So fucking much.”

And then he kisses me, dipping me backwards for all the world to see.

And between us, our baby kicks for joy.