The Billionaire's Heir

by Sierra Rose

  What the fuck!?

  My jaw fell to the floor as my hero landed, shaking out his golden locks like some kind of devastating angel. The four other men in the kitchen were paralyzed, in a similar state of shock to my own, just staring at Nick as if their nightmares had suddenly come to life.

  Then Nick tripped on his own shoe and stumbled back into the wall, as if all his prowess and sure-footedness vanished in the wake of the battle.

  The men took that clumsy moment to charge toward us, releasing a deafening cry and waving all sorts of utensils as they sought to avenge their fallen friend. One waved a set of tongs, the other wore a colander on his head like a helmet, and the two others had spatulas in both hands. I was just glad none of them had happened upon a meat cleaver, because they looked like they were ready to tear the entire tavern to the ground. Since I was merely a woman, I was unceremoniously shoved out of the way, and two of them grabbed Nick by the shoulders and pressed him up against the wall he’d just stumbled into. As they held him steady, the others walked slowly toward him, cracking their knuckles.

  “Come on, you guys!” I exclaimed, terrified and dumbfounded at the same time. “Look, I don’t know what he did or what he said or whatever, but I guarantee you don’t want to do this!”

  I might as well have been screaming at a wall, because the liquid courage had a firm grasp on all of them, Nick included. As reasonable as they might have been under normal circumstances, they were men and they were drunk, and they weren’t about to let some things slide.

  “Take it back,” one of the men said quietly as he stepped closer. There was a flash of silver as he held what looked like a serving spoon to Nick’s throat. “Take it back right now.”

  Nick jutted his chin up defiantly, a rebellious fire burning in his eyes. “Nope. Never.”

  The spoon pressed more firmly against his skin, soon joined by a baster.

  “Be smart, kid. Don’t make us do something we’ll both regret.”

  Nick’s eyes flashed again as his lips curved up into an unrepentant smile. “It’s Joe, isn’t it?”

  The man glanced at his friends, then nodded uncertainly.

  “Well, Joe, I said it before, and I’ll say it again.” Nick’s smile grew cold, and he stared them down, without an ounce of fear in his spiteful glare. “The Yankees could beat the Mets any fucking day of the—”

  Before he could finish, a heavy-fisted punch caught him right in the face. My hands clapped over my mouth to silence a scream, but Nick simply spat out a mouthful of blood and lifted his head in triumph.

  “Yankees!” he had the audacity to yell.

  The ridiculous bloodbath came to a momentary standstill as his battle cry was echoed by dozens of others scattered around the bar. “Yankees! Yankees! Go, Yanks!” they wailed in a horribly off-key chorus as they pulled themselves away from their oppressors.

  Just like that, the fighting resumed tenfold, and the baster-bearing bastard gave his head a dangerous shake. “I warned you, dude.”

  “What are you gonna do?” Nick taunted, eyeing his pathetic arsenal. “Marinate me?”

  Sports? All this over a stupid game? I thought, still frozen in disbelief, staring with eyes as wide as saucers as the men of New York digressed into petulant children before my very eyes. Are they ever anything but a bunch of little boys obsessed with their dribbling balls?

  “I’ll marinate you all right. I could kill you with this thing if I wanted.”

  “Good. I’d rather die than spend another second talking to a Mets fan. I hope your delusion isn’t contagious,” Nick said, surprising me that he could speak words of so many syllables in his sloshed state.

  The men stared each other down as the baster lifted high into the air. Before the culinary threat could fall upon Nick, though, there was a flash of electricity, and the man holding it fell to the ground with a yelp of pain. Everyone watched him crumble and writhe for a moment before lifting their bloodshot eyes to find me standing over his body with a smoking Taser in my hand.

  “Enough!” I demanded. Never underestimate a woman, let alone a pregnant one trained in the deadly art of public relations.

  Nick continued staring at me, just as stunned as the others. “Abby?” he questioned, as if he suddenly remembered I was there with him.

  “Are you idiots telling me this glorified little food fight of yours, one that’s going to get you all arrested, is because of a stupid basketball team?”

  Nick closed his eyes in a painful grimace as the other men paused to stare at me. “It’s baseball, Abby, so—”

  “I don’t give a fuck what it is!” Then, with razor-sharp precision, I kicked the man on the ground out of my way and waved the Taser threateningly toward the others.

  They took a giant step back, releasing Nick in the process.

  “Go home!” I ordered, my eyes narrowing threateningly as they scampered back like little school boys, staring at the actual weapon in my hand. “Go home to your unfortunate girlfriends and wives...and please give them my supreme sympathy.”

  “That’s right—” Nick began smugly.

  “Shut up,” I interrupted, shooting him a scathing glare as I motioned to the bathroom. “You’re just as bad as they are, if not worse. Don’t think for one second that you’re off the hook, mister. You’re just damn lucky I was here to save your drunk ass...again.”

  His lips parted to respond, but he wisely thought better of it. Instead, he gave his enemies a friendly wave, and the two of us disappeared down the hall.

  The second we were out of sight and earshot, he turned to look at me in amazement. “Abby, you were incredible back there! Where the hell did you learn to do that?”

  I shot him another glare before kicking open the bathroom door and shepherding him through. The second we were both inside, I locked it firmly behind us and propped a trashcan beneath the handle for good measure.

  “Where did I learn what? To scare off a gang of violent fools intent on killing you over the damn Yankees?” I asked under my breath, scanning the little room. “I was your publicist for two years, Nick. That was hardly the worst thing I’ve had to do.”

  A-ha! There you are!

  Through the shadows and grime, I finally made out what I was looking for: a tiny window mounted high up in the wall. As Nick swayed drunkenly beside me, I estimated the distance the best I could, then crawled up onto the sink to strike the ancient glass repeatedly with my purse. Not a moment too soon, it reluctantly swung open; I could already hear the distant sound of police sirens racing toward us.

  “Come on!” I called, jumping down to let him go first. “We’ve got to get out of here before those Mets fans make mettwurst out of you, though at this point, I’m thinking maybe I should let them.”

  He glanced between me and the window, his eyes wide with astonishment, then hopped up onto the sink with a surge of adrenaline. “You’re one helluva woman, Abigail Wilder.”

  “Just go,” I answered as the sirens neared, “and try not to break anything on the way down.”

  He gave me a drunken salute, then dropped noiselessly into the air. The second I heard him land, I jumped up and squinted out into the night.

  Rain? Perfect. Just fucking perfect.

  I swung my legs over without a second thought but didn’t account for the long trench coat I’d wrapped over my pajamas. As I tried to jump to freedom, the edge of that coat caught in the cracked windowsill, jerking me back toward the wall.

  “Abby!” Nick leapt forward as I smashed against the paneling and let out a frightened gasp and my purse slipped from my fingers, spilling its contents all over the wet pavement below while I dangled helplessly in the air. “Abby, hold on! I’ve got you!”

  For the first time in my life, I didn’t want Nick to get me. I didn’t want him to be the knight in shining armor, rushing in to save me or fix his latest mess. All I wanted was to be home, sleeping in my safe, warm bed. “Don’t!” I said, cringing away from his hands to twist myself up and tear t
he coat free from the window. A second later, I dropped through the air and landed in a disgruntled heap upon the ground. “You’ve done enough.”

  Within just seconds, the rain soaked me to the bone. I brushed my wet hair away from my face with a shiver and gathered up my purse and things before Nick pulled me shakily to my feet.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, feeling my stomach, the concern evident in his voice. “Is the baby okay?”

  Drenched and frustrated, I stared up at him as the thunder rolled, the rain poured, and the lightning flashed. Sure, I was a little irritated that I was there because of him, that he’d dragged me to some seedy bar to rescue him at some awful hour of the night, but in that moment, looking into his eyes like that, with that rain dripping off his perfect hair and rolling droplets down his perfect face, I just wanted him to scoop me up, kiss me, and take me home.

  “Shit! How could I be so stupid? You’re pregnant, out here in the rain in your pajamas, jumping out the window from some rowdy bar, and it’s all because of me. What the hell is wrong with me?” he fumed. “I’m no role model or hero for our child. How did the universe think making me a father was a good idea? I don’t deserve you or the baby, Abby. I really—”

  I softly grabbed his hand. “The baby and I are fine, Nick. Everything’s fine.” When I looked up at him, though, I noticed him staring at me with the strangest expression I’d ever seen on his face. “What is it?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”

  The cops were closing in, the rain was becoming a torrential monsoon, the cabbie’s patience had worn too thin for him to stick around, and we’d yet to put more than ten feet between us and the battle raging inside the bar, yet Nick wasn’t moving a muscle or saying another word. I shivered again and took a step closer, worried that something was seriously wrong with him, something more than too much liquor.

  “I’m sorry.”

  The soft words stopped me in my tracks, and I stared up at him, wondering what in the world was going through that beautiful head of his. His eyes were filled with an unspeakable kind of remorse, but there was something else there too: a quiet kind of hope.

  “You shouldn’t be...” His eyes flickered up to the window. “I just came here to celebrate...” He bowed his head to his chest as the rain continued to pelt him. When he finally finished his thought, it was so quiet that he could have only been speaking to himself. “I’m a father now. I need to be more responsible, for you and for our baby. Fuck all this bullshit. I’m ready to settle down with the woman of my dreams, ready to make a family with you.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Watching you jump out that window in the middle of a bar fight showed me something.”

  “What?” I asked, eager to hear it.

  Tears welled in his eyes. “I can’t live like this anymore, all these stupid stunts and antics. I’m no frat boy, and this shit has to stop. I’m supposed to be a man now, and I need to be one for the woman I love. Abby, I know it doesn’t look like it right now, but I really do want to give you and our baby a stable life. You shouldn’t have had to race down here in your pajamas to save me. I promise that from this day forward, no more crazy stunts. It’s time I jump off this rollercoaster and enjoy a real life, a life with you. I swear to you that all this insanity ends here, tonight. I love you, Abby, and I don’t want to ever be with anyone else.”

  A tear slipped down my face at the sincerity of his confession.

  “I’ve met my match, my soulmate, my...forever,” he said.

  “That’s nice to hear,” I said with a soft smile, batting my eyes to flick the rain away.

  He gently cupped my face. “You’re my world, and I don’t want to lose you...especially over the damn Yankees, as you put it.”

  “You won’t, baby.”

  “I expected to be a bachelor till my dying day, thought I could just multitask, entertaining an entire roster of side chicks.”

  “Hmm. I’m afraid I can’t put up with that. You think you can really handle monogamy?”

  “For you? Hell yes! It’s like I’ve been waiting for you my entire life, Abigail Wilder. I can’t even think about being with another woman because you’re all I think about. I know I’ve been...a little wild, but then you came along and changed everything with your beautiful smile and feisty personality. I hope you know I was smitten by you the first day I met you.”

  “A little wild, huh?” I said with a grin. “Why’d you keep your distance then? Were you worried about tainting me or something?”

  “I just knew I don’t deserve somebody like you. You’re so pure, so innocent, a hopeless romantic. I didn’t want to hurt you or change you, so I kept everything professional. That wasn’t easy, because deep down, I’ve always held a torch for you.”

  “Oh, Nick...”

  “Well, now I have to officially pop the question, I guess.”

  I laughed out loud at that. “Okay...”

  “Tell me, Abby, would you ever consider settling down with a reformed playboy?”

  Without any hesitation whatsoever, I answered, “Not only would that be the best decision of my life, but it’d also be the best Hollywood love story ever.”

  He softly kissed my lips. “You know, I’ve always heard about the one. People said I’d know her when I met her, and they were right. It was like being struck by lightning. You’re the one for me Abby. You’re my best friend, the one person I can’t imagine living without, the absolute love of my life.”

  “And apparently, your Taser-wielding bodyguard,” I teased.

  “Yeah, that too,” he said with a sheepish smile. “I can’t imagine growing old with anyone else, nor do I want to. Sweet girl, my life won’t be complete without you beside me. You’re the one I want to share the rest of my life with. I mean that from the bottom of my heart,” he said, looking at me in the most beautiful way anyone had ever looked at me before.

  “Nick, you saying that... It’s...” I trailed off, too consumed by emotion to truly thank him for saying the words I’d wanted to hear for so long.

  A surge of sudden determination lifted his chin, and he stared at me in the rain, with true love shining in his eyes. For a moment, neither of us spoke, but then, in a movement as subtle as it was profound, he took the bandana from his hair and said, “Abby, I want to marry you.”

  Suddenly, it was as if my whole body turned to stone, cemented to the pavement beneath us, and I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I just stood there, wondering if I’d heard him right. No, he’s just drunk. He doesn’t realize what he’s saying, my mind corrected, but all that changed when he melted my heart by getting down on one knee.

  A host of sirens echoed in the background, a glow of misty streetlamps haloed around his head. The entire world seemed to be falling to pieces around us, but Nick had never looked so sure, so cool, calm, and collected.

  “Like I said before, I don’t want to do this anymore,” he said softly, keeping his eyes locked on mine. “I don’t want to live this way...and I don’t want to ever live without you.” With that, he reached in his pocket and pulled out a box. “You are my life now, Abby, all I want in this world. I promise no one will ever work harder to make you happy or cherish you more than I will, and that’s a promise I take very seriously.”

  When he pulled the lid off the box, I couldn’t help but cup my mouth in surprise at the sight of the exquisite diamond shimmering under the streetlight.

  “I’ve just been waiting for the right moment...”

  “And you think this is it?” I laughed.

  “Yes, because I need to show you how much I love you. You jumped out a window in the rain to escape a crazy bar brawl. If nothing else, that proves you’re the right girl for me. I love you, Abby. I always have, and I always will, and neither the police or the rain or any Mets fans are going to stop me.”

  My eyes widened in surprise.

  “Abigail Wilder...” His blue eyes twinkled as they stared into mine. “This whole fake fiancée thing and rumors of a false elopeme
nt just aren’t working for me anymore. I say we make it real.”

  I swallowed hard as he stared lovingly into my eyes.

  “I don’t want you to be my girlfriend, Abby, certainly not a fake girlfriend. I want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?” he said again, this time as an actual question.

  Chapter 22

  I couldn’t breathe; I was literally left standing there in breathless surprise. It was all a shocking blur, and my mind spun like I was on a supersonic carousel, like I’d drank as much as Nick had, and I hadn’t had a sip.

  “Did you really just say that?” I asked.

  He grinned as he slipped the ring on my finger. “Even if you didn’t think you heard me right, the ring should clue you in to my true intentions.”

  “Oh my gosh, Nick!” I shouted, trembling. “This ring is gorgeous! Is this real? Are you serious?”

  “Of course I’m serious. I just poured out my heart to you, didn’t I? I love you, Abby. Do you think I’d propose to just any girl in the pouring rain?”

  I squealed, cried, and laughed, a hostage of the most surreal moment of my life. I wasn’t sure my heart was even still beating. I was literally out of my mind with enjoyment because I’d fantasized about that big moment since I was a little girl. I gawked up at him, my eyes filling with tears. “My gosh! You actually asked.”

  “So is that a yes?” he asked.

  “Yes!” I shouted.

  He then shot me the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen. “You’ve just made me the happiest man on the planet.”

  I cupped his face. “Nick, is this really happening?”

  “Yes,” he said, softly kissing my lips.

  I looked at my new ring, then at him. “Oh my gosh! We’re getting married!” I practically screamed, my words echoing through the dark streets.