Obsessed Heir (Billionaire Heirs #4)

Chapter 44

Chapter Forty-Four

Barron

T he gentle smile playing at the corners of Abigail’s lips tugs at my heart in a way I didn’t think was possible.

A few minutes ago, I was in a blind fury, ready to tear her damn door off the hinges. Now, with her soft curves molded against me, all I want to do is hold her and keep her forever.

My palm still tingles with the satisfying crack that filled the air when it connected with her ass cheek. I wish I’d had the forethought to flip her and see the outline of my hand on her ass.

But I was spurred on by the flare of possession. I needed to fuck her, to own her, to show her she’s mine in every way possible.

Imagining her belly swelling with my child sparks an unexpected rush of warmth in my soul.

I settle on my elbows, keeping my cock buried inside her, keeping my seed there to insure my claim.

“So.” Abigail pauses. “Are you doing the boudoir shoot again…with someone else?” she asks, pressing her lips into a thin line.

I lean in, nuzzling her neck, enjoying how her breasts are flattened against me. “Are you jealous, little one?”

“You threw around a lot of mine -ing to end up avoiding my question,” she points out, managing a rather admirable tone of disapproval.

“No,” I reply with a lazy rumble as I graze her neck with my teeth. “I wouldn’t have done it the first time if you weren’t such a damn temptation.”

Appeased, she turns, giving me more access to the curve of her neck. I take full advantage, exploring the sensitive skin down across her shoulder.

“I thought you hated me,” she says softly.

The quiet admission has a sobering effect. I lean away a few inches to meet her wary gaze head-on.

“No, I didn’t hate you,” I reply emphatically, so she’ll see the truth in my words. “But I was angry at you for what I thought you were doing to my mother.”

“I understand,” she says quietly.

Of course she would understand. She stood faithfully by her side, protecting her when she couldn’t protect herself.

“I meant it when I said I don’t care anymore,” I remind her, feeling an overwhelming need to reassure her. “I just want you with me.”

A crease appears between her brows. “Even when I came back to the suite yesterday? You weren’t exactly thrilled then.”

“When you walked in with Stein .” I add all the disdain his name deserves.

“Don’t worry about him.” She scoffs. “He walked me back from the shopping area, that’s all.”

Hrmph. My grunt should tell her how I feel about that happening. Though she shouldn’t have gone out on her own. I make a mental note to have Austin go with her any time she leaves the ship.

She exhales shakily. “In my very first memory of you, you’re angry at me.”

“The day I took you home,” I state, pinpointing the exact moment she’s talking about with certainty.

She was sitting in the manager’s office at the grocery store, scuffed shoes, jeans that were threadbare at the knees, and a T-shirt that had seen better days. The fear and hope on her face was heartbreaking. And it was my fault.

“You wouldn’t even look at me,” she says in a harsh whisper.

Drawing a steadying breath, I shift and push up onto my elbow. She keeps her face averted, but I see how she’s blinking rapidly. Swallowing hard, I bring her up with me, switching to where I have her on my chest, my arms around her in a protective embrace.

“I’ve never been so angry in my life,” I confess with difficulty. “With Esteban for abandoning you. At myself for leaving him to drop you off with my mother instead of doing it myself.”

“You didn’t say a single word to me the entire way to the house,” she reminds me, her words muffled against my chest.

I squeeze my eyes shut against the stab of regret. I tried not to follow the dark path where my instincts were leading me. But in the end, I still put that frightened little girl through hell.

“I had no idea what to say to you,” I admit in a low rasp. “The only thing I did right was make him sign over guardianship before I gave him the money.”

“I’m glad about that,” she whispers.

“I found out what Esteban was planning from Paizano.”

“Oh my God.” She brings her hand to her mouth as her eyes shoot up to meet mine, horrified. “Everyone knew?”

“No, just our gardener,” I assure her. “He tracked me down to tell me, knowing how much Mom loved you.”

She shakes her head slowly. “I’ll never be able to face him.”

“I made sure he could retire well after he helped me find Esteban and pay him off.”

“Thank you.”

“To make it clear, I paid him to go away. He was supposed to take you to Mom, asking her to keep you because he had lost his job.” I swallow hard, remembering how she clutched the bag of groceries in her lap when I got there. “I never expected him to run off and abandon you.”

“It didn’t occur to me to ask Miss Opal for help.” She sighs. “It wasn’t until I got in trouble, and I had nobody to turn to.”

I’d fucked that up by throwing him out of the house to begin with and telling him not to come back. It was a shortsighted decision that had long and painful consequences.

“He caused so many problems for you and your mother.” She bites down on the inside of her lip.

“You don’t have to worry about him anymore.” I give her shoulder a quick squeeze. “I have a feeling the only reason my mother accepted Esteban in her life was because of you.”

“Me?” she echoes with uncertainty.

“You were a cute kid,” I tease. “The daughter she always wanted.”

“That makes it even worse,” she wails. “I’m so sorry, Barron. You both got caught up in this mess because of me.”

“No, sweetheart.” I kiss the top of her head. “I tried to keep everything quiet because of the McClelland secret.”

She nods.

“She told you?” I ask, remembering I found them together in her room.

“Yes, she was just telling me.”

Of course, Mom would tell her our family’s secret. And she’ll learn more in time, now that her position will be solidified.

“I didn’t want to be like my father in that sense,” I find myself explaining. “Buying a woman to give me an heir. So I avoided telling her when I dealt with Esteban. I convinced myself it wasn’t the same thing…and you ended up suffering because of it.”

“It wasn’t all bad,” she says, as if trying to soothe me. “That’s all I’d ever known, so I assumed it was just how life was.”

How this girl could think going hungry was a normal part of life is beyond me. Setting up the local food bank in a bigger, permanent building took a chunk of the money I started with. Donating from every project took more, but it’s been a worthy cause.

“I’ve thought of you every day since then,” I confess, opening up to her.

She gives a sharp sound of disbelief. “You don’t have to say that,” she mumbles.

“Reach over for my jeans.”

“That’s okay,” she says, dismissing the request.

“My jeans, woman,” I insist.

She hesitates briefly, searching my face, then tentatively reaches down and pulls at the leg of my jeans, dragging them close. I take my wallet from the back pocket as she watches with curiosity.

Flipping open the stiff leather, I push aside the bills and check the bottom. Touching the flattened plastic cover, I fish it out, letting the wallet fall to the floor.

Abigail stares at the circle, her brows drawing into a steeple. “A bread tie?”

“The one on the bread you held the day I brought you home,” I confirm.

Tears trickle over as she fingers the wire I’ve fashioned into a circle so it will fit in my wallet.

“It’s my reminder to see things through to the end. That a careless oversight can lead to people suffering for it. To work my hardest to make sure my family is safe, and nobody can ever hurt them.”

“Barron.” Tears are streaming down her cheeks. Her body wracked with sobs. All I can do is hold her, and it feels painfully inadequate.

“You’ve been my driving force, the reason I set my goals and became the man I am.” I can’t wipe her tears away fast enough. “And if you want to go home, I’ll find someone to take over, and we’ll fly home.”

She shakes her head adamantly. “No. You’ve worked so hard for all of this. I could never have you leave everything behind.”

“So you’ll stay?” I ask. “Even with us being surrounded by water?”

“Yes, if you want me to.” She sniffs. “But what about Miss Opal?”

Of course she would worry more about Mom than about her deep-seated fear.

“I’m sure together we can convince her to stay.” I grin. “After all, there’s going to be a grandchild for her to spoil.”

“Well, I suppose the way you’ve been going, that’s bound to happen,” she notes as my seed trickles out of her.

“And there’s a wedding to plan,” I add, holding up the tie.

“Really,” she says with dry amusement.

“Really.”

Because there’s no way in hell I’m ever letting her go.