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“Think about it. You’re a successful businessman. A billionaire. You date models, socialites, senators’ daughters. I mean, you’ve probably dated royalty.”
Well, only once, but he wasn’t going to share that minor detail at this moment.
“I’ve never been happier than when we were walking along the beach in the Hamptons,” he said. “That entire weekend, I shared more of who I am with you than with any other woman, except obviously my mother. I don’t care about your bank balance or your social status. I like you. I like talking to you, laughing with you, eating ice-cream with you. I’ll even drink your horrible wine.”
She let out a little laugh.
“Scrap that last bit.”
She smiled up at him with glittering eyes. “That was a wonderful weekend.”
He brushed the hair from her forehead.
“Maybe Iamturning into a romantic, but I think it would be stupid for us to throw this away. We have something. I know you feel it. I know you’re scared to say it and that’s okay for now. Hell, I swore I’d never marry after watching my parents’ relationship, but Liv, I would do anything to be with you.”
“I’m not asking you to marry me, Fletch.”
No, but he kind of wanted to.
He didn’t want to freak her out. Tonight was about getting her to trust him again and know she could rely on him to protect her.
His own insecurities could just wait a fucking moment.
“I’m not. When I do ask, you will know. And it won’t be standing in the middle of your house,” he said firmly.
A blush hit her cheeks and bounced directly into his heart.
God, he really did love her.
“Spend the weekend with me.” He ran his hand down her arm and landed on her hip. “I need to feel you in my arms and know you’re safe. And mine.”
Her eyes sparkled with tears, but now there was a touch of happiness in them. She was letting her guard down.
“All right. But it’s probably best if we go to your place. Or hide your car.”
Which they both knew was an impossibility in New York City. There was nowhere to park near her house. He had his own private parking spot under his building.
“Let’s go to mine.”
––––––––
AFEW HOURS LATER,Fletcher lay with Olivia in his arms while she slept soundly. He turned his head and stared out at the moonlight pouring into his bedroom.
They hadn’t stopped to close the blinds or turn on a light after walking through the door. He’d taken her bags, dropped them on the floor then pulled her into his arms.
God, it was incredible to have her back where she belonged.
He truly believed that.
Olivia Miller was his.
Fletcher wanted her here every damn day of his life. That meant Sammy too, and that would mean building a relationship with the little girl. It would take time—heck, right now she called him Mr. Dufort.
Well, in truth she called him Fletcher in secret, but her mother didn’t know that. It was their private little joke when she came to staff functions.
Sammy was a cute kid. He liked her. But could he be a stepfather?
He’d probably be a better role model than her narcissistic, controlling father. Not that he was qualified to label the guy, but it was kind of obvious.
