“Why wouldn’t you?” I ask, searching for a way to divert this topic.
“Not all women want to procreate.” She looks me right in the eye, challenging me.
Bullshit. There is no way Brook doesn’t want to be a mother. I don’t look away. I search for the truth as those globes swirl with emotion.
“What was his name?” I demand.
Some asshole hurt her, and I want to know who. And his fucking address.
Brooklyn shakes her head. “There’s no sad story here, Trav.” She’s started calling me Trav and while I normally fucking hate nicknames, I like it. “I just don’t think there’s some great love in my future or the possibility of having that man’s children.”
I lean across the table. “Bullshit.”
She jumps a little, taken aback by my reaction.
So the fuck am I.
“You’re thirty-one years old, not seventy-one.” I sit back, shaking my head. “You want to know how I became a fucking billionaire? Because I didn’t give up. I didn’t let anyone else dictate to me what I could and couldn’t do.”
She tosses her napkin onto her plate, looking mad.
“I’m sure it was more than that. Many people have determination and willpower. They aren’t uber wealthy. And I can’tmakesomeone love me.”
Really?
Because you’re doing a fucking good job on me, sweetheart.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
TRAVIS
––––––––
Twisting my body, I slide to a stop and turn. Behind me, Brook is traversing the mountain like a...well a novice. The Matterhorn isn’t a beginner’s mountain. To her credit, she wanted to ski, so I gave her some lessons, and after falling over a dozen times, she finally found her groove.
Four hours later, I’m ready for a drink.
Brooklyn glides beside me, and I reach for her, helping to slow her down. Her cheeks are rosy pink, and her eyes look so fucking alive.
The urge to kiss her is insane.
Not kiss her because I want to fuck her...butkiss her.
“That was exhilarating. Wow! Look at this—”
I slam my mouth onto hers, giving into the compulsion.
She moans, our tongues finding one another as I hungrily take from her. Hints of her earlier coffee merge with her moan, and I wonder if staying in Switzerland really is a possibility.
And kidnapping her.
Not that I think it would take much convincing.
It’s becoming impossible to ignore my feelings for Brook, and yet I’m trying really hard. Just not at the moment.
I don’t know who wobbles first, but it starts and then we wobble some more and, cursing, I know this is going to end in disaster.
Our mouths pull apart as we both cry, the world topples, skis fly in the air, and poles drop to the snow as we both go down after them.
