Page 20 of Christmas with Billionaire's Runaway Bride

"Name what you want from me now and I will give it to you. Do you want half my companies and wealth? A baby? Let's make one now..." I go on and she breaks out in a loud laughter.

" Give it a few hours and see if you still want the same things." She says and snuggles close to me. I cuddle her and she is the first one to drift into sleep

'You have no idea what you have done to me. How I wish you have my baby so I can have you forever in my life.' I think to myself as I stroke her hair. It is like her soul has merged into mine.

As I slowly wake up, the time we drifted off to sleep remains a mystery, but it was the most restful slumber I've had in a long while. The morning sun peeks through the curtains, signaling the start of a new day. Reality hits – I've got to be up early for a crucial meeting in another city. Turning in the old bed, it lets out a familiar creak, a reminder that it's seen better days. Mental note: take Claire shopping for a new one; she deserves a comfy sleep. Speaking of Claire, she's peacefully beside me, lost in dreams. Her large eyes are slightly open, giving her an angelic appearance that warms my heart. A gentle smile plays on her lips, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. Despite the impending early wake-up call, I can't help but appreciate the tranquility of this moment. As I gaze at Claire, I'm reminded of the simple beauty in life. The sunlight bathes the room, casting a warm glow on everything. It's moments like these that make the challenges of a busy schedule worthwhile.

Lost in the tranquility of the moment, I can't resist the allure of staying a bit longer beside Claire. The gentle cadence of her breathing forms a comforting melody, cocooning us in a bubble of serenity. Each inhale and exhale seem to harmonize with the stillness of the morning, creating an intimate connection between us. As I gaze at her, a profound sense of affection envelops me. Her features, delicately lit by the morning light, highlight the perfection that captivates me. In this quietude, I find myself contemplating the depth of my feelings. Could it be that I've already fallen for her? The thought lingers, stirring a mixture of warmth and uncertainty within me.

Everything about Claire feels so right, so perfect in this shared space. In this fleeting moment, the world outside our cocoon fades away, leaving only the two of us. The cold winter day seems to lose its bite as our shared warmth becomes the only comfort needed. The desire to linger in this tranquil haven intensifies, a silent plea to freeze time and revel in the simplicity of our togetherness. The impending responsibilities and the chilly reality outside the covers momentarily fade into insignificance. All that matters, is the shared warmth, the rhythmic breathing, and the unspoken connection that makes this cold winter morning feel like the coziest haven.

The covers slipping off her delicate form prompts me to play the role of a makeshift blanket. I gently drape them over her slender, curvaceous body, and in response, she instinctively draws closer, seeking the shared warmth. Her presence becomes a comforting shield against the winter's icy grip, a stark contrast to the chill that lingers from the snowfall throughout the night. As she snuggles closer, a natural reaction takes over, and I find myself enveloping her in an embrace. The warmth emanating from her skin creates a cocoon of comfort, shielding us from the wintry air that seeps into the room. It's an intimate dance of closeness, a silent conversation in the language of touch.

Unable to resist the impulse, I lean in to press gentle kisses to the corners of her mouth. The tender connection lingers for a moment, a sweet punctuation in the quiet symphony of the morning. Attempting to pull away, I realize an invisible thread binds us, and she unconsciously responds to the unspoken invitation, drawing me back into the warmth of our shared space. In this stolen moment, the world outside our embrace fades away. The snowfall, the impending meeting, and the responsibilities of the day dissolve into the background. All that exists is the intimacy of this winter morning, where the exchange of warmth and the softness of a kiss create a timeless sanctuary. Lost in the tender embrace and the exchange of affection, time seems to stretch into a gentle reverie. The snowflakes outside continue their slow descent, creating a hushed backdrop to this intimate scene. As I attempt to pull away once more, the magnetic pull of our connection prevails, drawing us back together.

Her response to the brief kiss is an unconscious affirmation, a silent agreement to linger in this shared warmth a little longer. It's a moment suspended in time, where the outside world holds no sway over the cocoon we've woven. The air is filled with the soft rustle of covers and the muted whispers of winter beyond the windows. She is all I want and after our soul-merge the previous night, there is nothing I am sure of as her presence in my life. If only I knew how to keep her all to myself. In this quietude, as we lie entwined, I find myself marveling at the simplicity and beauty of the connection we share. The worries and pressures of the day momentarily cease to exist, replaced by the genuine warmth of companionship. It's a testament to the power of small, stolen moments that have the ability to transcend the ordinary and make time stand still.

As the snowfall outside continues, and the world awaits its demands, we find solace in the shared space beneath the covers. In this stolen interlude, the cold of the winter day is replaced by the warmth of connection, and for now, that's all that matters.

I finally gently pull away, and she wakes up with a smile. "Are you leaving?" she asks. "I have to be somewhere quickly. I'll call you when I get there," I reply, heading for a quick shower. The bathroom is smaller than what I'm used to, but it doesn't bother me.

"I will call you when I get there. Come here." I say and kiss her once more in assurance. The truth is that I don't want to leave her side but duty calls.

I hear her moving around the bedroom, likely getting ready for work. Just as I think that she comes into the bathroom, starting to brush her teeth. It's clear she's giving me some time to finish up so she can jump into the shower herself. We share a quiet morning routine, each preparing for the day ahead.

Chapter Seventeen

Balancing Work and Pleasure

Claire's point of view

I finally manage to get to the office but I am pissed, I was very late, thanks to Michael who slept over at my house. I ended up having car troubles which is dangerous in the winter. I curse myself for not taking him up on the offer to drive me to work but what is done is done. Expressing gratitude to Kendra, I hug her, but she doesn't seem pleased.

Sensing her unease, I inquire, "What's wrong?"

Frustration spills out as Kendra shares, "You refuse my help when I offer. I have three unused cars. If I tell you to take one, you won't agree. Why not ask my brother for a car loan if you don't want mine? You're his employee now, entitled to one. Or just take mine; I don't need it. You don't realize just how quickly things would have turned for the worse if I didn't come in time." Her words carry a hint of frustration and concern.

A sigh escapes me, but before I can respond, Kendra drops a bomb that sends chills down my spine.

"If you refuse to take mine, I'll march into my brother's office and give him a piece of my mind. You've done a lot for that jerk; he can buy you a new one. He better do it soon; who knows if his new wife will make things hard for him in the future," she declares, unaware of my frozen state.

"New wife?" I blurt out, not caring about concealing my entanglement with him anymore. The revelation hangs in the air, and I brace myself for the response. Kendra glances at me, seemingly surprised by my direct question.

"Oh, didn't you know?" she replies, her tone holding a mix of nonchalance and subtle amusement. "He got married a couple of weeks ago. It was a small ceremony, very hush-hush. I thought he would have told you."

My mind races, trying to process this unexpected revelation. A surge of emotions, a combination of shock and hurt, washed over me. I had no inkling of this significant development in his life, and the fact that it happened in secrecy adds another layer of complexity to the situation. As Kendra continues talking, suggesting I confront him about the car situation, I struggle to focus on her words. The newfound knowledge about his marriage creates a disconcerting backdrop to the day's challenges. I thank Kendra for her offer, still grappling with the reality that the person I've been involved with is now someone else's husband.

"Oh jeez! Calm down, I was just kidding, he hasn't gotten married but if everything goes to plan today, he will be getting married soon. He has gone to meet the lucky woman's parents and I think that he won't be back for a couple of days. At least that is what my parents told me." Kendra continues, oblivious to the fact that I am completely in shock.

'Oh, that doesn't make it better, does it?' I scream in my head.

As Kendra continues talking, my mind becomes a fog of hurt, making her words distant and inconsequential. After a while, she bids me goodbye, and I mechanically enter the office building. The pain of betrayal tightens my chest, and it feels like my world has come to a standstill. We weren't an official item, but the lack of a heads-up sting. I can't comprehend why he'd spend the entire night with me, sharing sweet moments, only to jet off to another city for a marriage arrangement. The concept of an arranged marriage in this century bewilders me, adding another layer to the whirlwind of emotions that leave me feeling abandoned and deceived.

'Who am I kidding! I also almost ended up in an arranged marriage." I sigh inwardly.

Drowning in a sea of emotions, I mechanically navigate through the office corridors, trying to conceal the turmoil within. The weight of the unspoken truth lingers, casting a shadow over the once-shared moments that now feel tainted. Questions echo in my mind like a relentless drumbeat. Why the secrecy? Why the sweet gestures if a significant commitment elsewhere was on the horizon? The dissonance between his whispered promises and the reality of his potential arranged marriage is a bitter pill to swallow. As I settle into my workspace, I struggle to focus on tasks. The air feels heavy, and the routine of the office becomes a distant hum, drowned out by the cacophony of emotions raging within. Betrayal and hurt intertwine, creating a knot in my stomach that refuses to loosen.

Amid modern relationships and personal autonomy, the notion of an arranged marriage feels archaic. The fact that he is partaking in such a tradition, seemingly without a hint of transparency, adds a layer of complexity to the emotional whirlwind. The day unfolds with a surreal quality, each passing moment a reminder of the shattered illusions. I grapple with the reality that the person I allowed into my world had a different script written for his life, a script that didn't include me in the leading role. The day slips away, and I find myself in a taxi heading home. Closing my eyes, I attempt to drown out the worries swirling within. The recurring question echoes in my mind: "How did I fall for him so quickly?"

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