Page 20 of My Dirty Father In Law
I nod, impressed.
“See? Your skill is super specialized, and not something I could just pick up, even if I didn’t have these horrendous allergies. So merci, ma chérie, but I can’t go there, although I appreciate the idea.”
Marielle was disappointed, but she acknowledged that I was being realistic, and we ended the conversation with a smile and air kisses shortly thereafter. Now, here I am with my one little bag about to enter the security checkpoint at the Minneapolis-St. Paul airport. I look around the lofty terminal, and my eyes catch sight of a giant American flag hanging vertically from the ceiling. My heart aches as my shoulders droop. I’ll miss this place, and I wish it didn’t have to end this way because the United States has become special to me.
Well, at least you have the memories, the voice in my head whispers. He was gorgeous and cared for you, if only in his own way.
That’s true, and as a result, I try to cheer up. My subconscious is right. Things could be a lot worse because I could have wasted time with a man who was effete, shallow, and vain. At least Jordan Lewis was none of those things. He was a powerful alpha male who controls his environment at all times, and who takes what he wants. The problem is that he didn’t want me.
Feeling even worse, I begin walking towards the woman at security.
“Hi,” I say. “I’m on the night flight to Paris.”
“Certainly,” she says, nodding her head. “Passport and ticket please.”
Fortunately, I already have the documents in hand and the employee’s scanning them when suddenly, there’s a commotion behind me.
“Juliette,” a deep voice wheezes. “Juliette, wait!”
I spin on my heel, and is it my imagination, or is Stevenson the butler pushing Jordan in a wheelchair as they race towards me through the terminal? What in the world is going on? My heart starts pounding because what’s going on? Is Jordan sick or injured? Oh my god, I couldn’t bear the thought.
“Jordan!” I gasp when the men screech to a halt. “What happened? Oh my god, are you alright?”
The powerful alpha male winces as he levers his massive form out of the wheelchair, but fortunately, he’s hale enough to stand.
“Juliette, we need to talk,” he rasps. “Over there, by the windows where we can have some privacy.”
I stare at him.
“But I have to catch a flight,” I say.
“Fuck your flight,” he bites out. “I just had a panic attack because I thought you’d left me. Now move,” he commands. His voice booms, reminiscent of better days, and automatically, I find my feet shifting in response. Within moments, we’re seated in chairs by the window as the rest of the airport population swirls off to the left.
“Jordan, what’s going on?” I ask. “Why are you in a wheelchair? How did you find me?”
“It was Stevenson,” he wheezes slightly before inhaling deep. “And I’m fine. I’m sorry, honey, but like I said, I had a panic attack when I got home and you weren’t there. I thought you’d deserted me and started getting chest pains. But I’m fine. Stevenson kept his wits about him and drove me to the airport,” he says in a grim tone. “Thank fuck they have wheelchairs here.”
“I never thought I’d see you in a wheelchair,” I say in a low tone.
“I never thought I’d be in one,” Jordan responds immediately before those blue eyes fix on mine. “But why did you leave, Jules? What the fuck is going on?” His voice is rough and urgent, and my heart leaps into my throat. I love this man so much, and yet I know this isn’t the time to mince words.
“I left because I’m not pregnant, Jordan. I’m absolutely, one hundred percent not carrying your child because I got my period this morning, and you know that my visa expires in a week, so there’s nothing to do. I might as well leave for Paris now.”
The alpha male nods, his expression pained.
“Thank you for telling me,” he says in a low voice. “Damn, that sucks.”
“If it sucks, then why are you here?” I ask in a plaintive tone, my voice beginning to rise with hysteria. “Our plan failed. You’re not getting an heir. My visa’s expiring, and it’s time for me to go back where I came from. Sayonara. Au revoir. Adios.”
Jordan’s expression is tormented, the skin around his eyes tight. He’s incredibly handsome in a white shirt and fancy denim jeans, but this is no time to be ogling my lover. I need answers, and I need them now.
“What’s going on with all the dramatics?” I demand. “Why are you here? Otherwise, I have a flight to catch.”
The billionaire’s silent for a moment as he stares at the floor. But then he jerks his head up and those blue eyes are mesmerizing as he seizes my gaze.
“I don’t want you to go, Jules,” he states in a deep rumble. “You mean too much to me, and I don’t care about that baby shit anymore. You don’t have to breed my heir, and my family name can die. It’s fine.”
I’m so surprised that my eyebrows practically fly off my forehead.
