The Billionaire's Bought Bride and Instant Mom Chapter 19

Aveline

He launched himself at me with the kind of uninhibited enthusiasm only children possess, and I caught him as he jumped into my arms, spinning him around once before setting him down.

"There's my brave boy," I said, smiling down at him. "How was the car ride with your dad?"

"It was good!" Ryan beamed. "But Miss Aveline, aren't you surprised by all the cars that came with us?"

I glanced out at the impressive convoy still parked outside, then back at Ryan with raised eyebrows. "I can understand it, sweetheart. Your father probably prefers to travel with a bit of... flair."

Ryan giggled, looking suddenly conspiratorial. "No, no! This was my idea! I know lots of teachers at this school can be really mean, and I was worried they might be mean to you too! So I asked Daddy to bring extra cars so I could back you up!"

My heart clenched at his protective instincts. This five-year-old had orchestrated a show of force to protect me from his teachers. The sweetness of it was almost overwhelming.

"Ryan," I said gently, "that was very thoughtful, but you don't need to worry about protecting me. I can take care of myself."

"I know," he said seriously. "But I wanted to anyway. You take care of me, so I should take care of you too."

God, this kid was going to make me cry.

I was about to respond when I sensed someone approaching behind me. I turned to find Orion walking down the hallway, having apparently extracted himself from the welcoming committee.

My stomach did that annoying flutter thing again as he got closer. He looked even more devastating in the academy's refined setting—like he owned not just the building, but everything and everyone in it.

"Ms. Reeves," he said, his voice warm with genuine gratitude. "I can't thank you enough for this. Seeing Ryan excited about school, watching him run to someone he trusts..." He paused, something almost vulnerable flickering across his features. "It means more than you know."

I felt that familiar stab of guilt, mixed with an unwelcome awareness of how his voice sent shivers down my spine. "It's my job, Mr. Blackwell. Ryan is a wonderful child."

"Please," he said, stepping slightly closer. "Call me Orion. And this is definitely above and beyond your job description."

The space between us suddenly felt charged with something I couldn't name. Or maybe I could name it, but I really, really didn't want to.

I was about to take a step back when Orion continued, his voice taking on a more formal tone that somehow felt intimate in the quiet hallway.

"Actually, I was hoping I could take you to dinner tonight. To properly thank you for what you've done for Ryan. It's the least I can do."

My brain short-circuited slightly. Dinner. With the man I'd sexually assaulted. The man whose unconscious body I'd used for my own pleasure while he was too drunk to consent.

"Oh, I don't think—" I started to say, the refusal automatic.

But then I looked down at Ryan, who was watching our conversation with those bright, hopeful eyes. He gave me the tiniest nod, like he was encouraging me to say yes.

The words got stuck in my throat. How could I disappoint him?

"I... yes," I heard myself saying. "That would be... nice."

Orion's smile could have powered the entire academy. "Wonderful. I'll pick you up at five?"

Before I could respond—or possibly change my mind—there was a commotion behind us. Catherine came rushing down the hallway, moving just a little too fast, clearly trying to insert herself into our conversation.

She stumbled dramatically, her arms windmilling as she "lost her balance" and fell directly toward Orion.

He caught her wrist with lightning-fast reflexes, steadying her before she could crash into him. But instead of the grateful smile most people would have given, Catherine's expression turned calculating.

"Oh my goodness, Mr. Blackwell, I'm so clumsy!" she simpered, making no attempt to step away from him. "Thank you for catching me!"

Orion's expression had gone completely neutral, but there was something in his eyes that made me suddenly nervous. He was still holding her wrist, and instead of releasing it, he was studying her hand with uncomfortable intensity.

"That's an interesting ring," he said, his voice deceptively casual.

My blood turned to ice.

The ring on Catherine's finger was white gold with an emerald center, surrounded by tiny diamonds in an Art Deco pattern. The same ring I'd left in that hotel room. The same ring that was supposed to be compensation for the most shameful night of my life.

Catherine preened under the attention, completely oblivious to the dangerous undercurrent in Orion's voice. "Oh, this old thing? It's a family heirloom. Been passed down through generations. You have excellent taste—most people don't appreciate genuine Art Deco craftsmanship."

"Genuine," Orion repeated, and there was something in his tone that made my skin crawl. "How fortunate. Your family must have quite a collection."

"We do, actually," Catherine said, apparently mistaking his interrogation for flirtation. "I have several pieces just like this one. All authentic, all quite valuable. Perhaps you'd like to see them sometime? I'd be happy to show you my collection."

My heart was hammering so hard I was surprised it wasn't audible. Catherine was digging herself deeper with every word, and Orion was letting her do it. His expression had shifted into something predatory, though Catherine was too busy basking in his attention to notice.

"That's very generous," Orion said, his smile sharp enough to cut glass. "I'll have my assistant contact you to arrange something."

Catherine practically glowed with triumph. "I'd love that! I'm sure we'd have so much to discuss."

I wanted to shake her. To warn her that she was playing with fire. But I was frozen in place, watching this disaster unfold while the horrible reality dawned on me.

Catherine thought she was flirting her way into a billionaire's bed. She had no idea she was walking into the crosshairs of a predator who wouldn't stop until he found his target. And that target was me.