Home > Losing Control (Babysitting a Billionaire #1)(43)

Losing Control (Babysitting a Billionaire #1)(43)
Author: Nina Croft

Poor Kimberly.

She’d looked so shocked. Then sad.

The shock he’d understood—she’d been in denial. The sadness he wasn’t so sure about. He didn’t want her sad. Hell, he wanted to dedicate his life to making her happy, but the sadness gave him hope that his words had sunk in.

And she’d said she loved him. If she’d just given him a little time to enjoy that, then he might not have lost it. Wouldn’t have given her that ultimatum.

She loved him.

But love wasn’t enough.

Hadn’t he shown her that he wouldn’t always take control, that he’d let her take the reins as much as he did? Hell, he’d let her tie him up. That would never happen with anyone else. Did she not realize that he could deny her just about nothing?

No. Obviously she didn’t.

His anger was mounting again.

He reckoned they both needed some time to cool down and consider what had been said. He couldn’t lose her now. He’d almost reached true happiness that weekend.

He landed the helicopter on the rooftop and switched off the engine. They both sat in silence as he waited for the blades to slow. Then he turned to her. “I love you. I’m not going to pretend anymore.”

“I don’t want to pretend either,” she said. “But I am scared.”

“I know. But sometimes, you need to close your eyes and jump and trust that someone will catch you.”

“Like out of an airplane without a parachute. Have you ever done that? Trusted someone to catch you?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ve been doing it all weekend.” And he was fucking bruised and battered from all the falls.

Her eyes widened as she digested that comment. But he was through pussyfooting around. It was out in the open now, and he intended that it should stay there.

“Go home, get some rest.” He watched while she fumbled with the harness but didn’t offer to help. “I’ll send someone over with your bags.” Though it occurred to him that she might have run back to her own apartment by the time he got home.

Maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea. He planned to stay away from her for a while. If only for his own sanity.

Chapter Eighteen

Kim couldn’t believe he had given her an ultimatum.

Or perhaps she could. She’d pushed him too far.

Now, she had to decide what to do.

She considered going back to her own apartment. But she’d agreed to stay at Jake’s until the Nadia situation was resolved. And she would not renege on her agreement. At least that’s what she told herself, but she knew it was one more self-delusion. She wanted to feel close to him while she considered her future and whether she was brave enough to make that leap of faith he’d spoken of.

She thought about Jake knowing her father and wondered how the two really tied in together. She hadn’t seen her father in years, and she’d believed he hadn’t cared what happened to her. That he’d washed his hands of her after she married. She hadn’t blamed him, and she hadn’t gone back to see him afterward because she’d been scared of rejection.

Looking back, she seemed to have spent her whole life being scared. Like a rabbit. Never working out what she really wanted and going after it, because then she might fail.

If she stayed with Jake, she’d tie herself to one more man who in the end would see her for what she was—unlovable.

And she’d never faced her real fear, the one that lived in that dark place, because then she might have discovered that her mother had abandoned her because she hadn’t loved her either.

She’d always thought being in control of her life would solve all her problems. Now she knew it wouldn’t keep those she loved from leaving her. Instead, she had to learn to trust that they wouldn’t let her down.

She did pop into her own apartment on the way up to pick up the post, and found a big, official-looking letter lying on the mat. She also needed to collect some clean clothes and something else. In the bedroom, she dug the pink pregnancy test from beneath her underwear. She stared at it for a moment, a lump forming in her throat. She could do this. Just not quite yet. Shoving the box in her bag, she left the apartment.

Once back at Jake’s place, she phoned in to work and got someone else to take her shift. She didn’t think she’d be good for much today; her mind was in turmoil. Part of that was exhaustion; she hadn’t slept much over the weekend. She’d been too busy making love with Jake—because it had been making love, not merely sex. She could recognize that now.

So she took herself to bed. Not the one in the spare room she’d been using, but Jake’s huge king-size bed. The sheets must have been changed because although she buried her head in the pillow, she caught no trace of him. She’d grown accustomed to his presence, the scent of him in her nostrils, and she couldn’t settle. In the end, she sprayed the pillow with his favorite aftershave and tried to fool herself that he was there with her.

She woke a few hours later. The official-looking letter lay on the table beside her, and she picked it up and opened it. A smile spread across her face as she read the words. The letter was from Michael’s lawyer. It was a restraining order stating that she wasn’t to go anywhere near Michael. Apparently, there had been witnesses when she kicked him.

Hurray! Michael was scared of her; he was such a worm. As if she would want to go anywhere near him, ever again. The thought made her laugh out loud.

Jake’s words came back to her. The bit about how she thought she’d put the past behind her when it still controlled her every decision.

Of course, he was right. She’d been scared of loving Jake because of her disastrous relationship with her father and her even more disastrous relationship with Michael.

No way was her cowardly asshole of an ex ruining anything else. She remembered him lying on the floor after she’d kicked him—he was a pathetic bully. She had no fear of him now, and from this moment on, she wouldn’t waste a single thought on him.

That just left one more thing to face. Her biggest fear. The one that had haunted her since she was ten. The one thing she had been scared to ask.

She dressed in black jeans, her Doc Martens, and her “Kiss My Ass” T-shirt and headed out.

She presumed her father would be at work. He’d never missed a day that she knew of, and he’d always gone in early in the morning and returned late at night. So she took the bus to his office, close to Westminster. She informed the receptionist who she was and who she wanted to see, but if he refused to see her, there was little she could do—this place had unbelievable security, with armed guards at the doors and the elevators.

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