The Bride (The Boss #3) Read Online Abigail Barnette

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Contemporary, Erotic, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Boss Series by Abigail Barnette
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Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 140874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
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Emma’s breath was a shuddering sob. “Do you want me to marry Michael?”

Oh, Neil. Please, please answer this one correctly, I prayed.

“I do. I want you to marry Michael.” Surprisingly, he didn’t sound pained or resigned at all, but earnest. He even went on, “He’s very smart, he has a successful career ahead of him, but most importantly, he treats you well and he loves you. I can see that every time he looks at you.”

“Daddy…” Emma’s voice was nearly a whisper. “I can’t—”

She was going to tell him. And it was going to destroy him.

“We can’t… I’ve been seeing everyone. Specialists. They all say I can’t have a baby.”

A rustle of fabric told me that he’d swept her up in a hug. If it hadn’t, the sound of his voice muffled by her hair would have. “Oh, my sweet girl. I am so, so sorry.”

“I can’t do this to him!” Emma was sobbing hard now. “I can’t take that away from him. He wants children so badly… I can’t condemn him to…”

Neil shushed her tenderly as she cried, and I knew he was probably giving her the best dad hug in the history of dad hugs. “Does Michael know?”

“He knows,” Emma said through a stuffed nose. “We’ve been trying for a while. We knew there were going to be difficulties, but now, the fertility doctor thinks that even with IVF…”

“So, you get a surrogate. Or you adopt. There’s no reason the two of you can’t have children.” He sounded almost relieved at finding it a fixable problem. “You’ve talked to him about this, haven’t you? About your fears regarding getting married?”

“He says I’m being stupid.”

“You are. I love you with all of my heart, Emma, but there are times when you couldn’t see your way out of a telescope.” He managed a grim laugh.

“You’ve been with Sophie too long, you’ve picked up her talent for insane metaphor,” Emma said in usual, dry humor.

“Michael knows you’ll be unable to have children. I think it’s wonderful that you two were responsible enough to find out before going ahead with the wedding. But you know now, and you both still want to get married. I think that gives you your answer.”

I’d heard too much, so I slipped quietly from the hall, walking on the balls of my feet so my heels wouldn’t make noise. I went out to the curb and climbed into the backseat of the Maybach to wait. Emma emerged from the restaurant first, her arm through Michael’s. She was all smiles now, as though she’d never doubted. Neil came out after them and stopped Emma for one last hug. It went on for a long time, and when he let her go, he watched her walk away.

Tomorrow was going to be so hard for him.

“Everything okay?” I asked, when Neil got into the car.

Tony shut the door behind him, and Neil took a moment to get settled in and buckle his seat belt before he answered with a vague, “Everything is fine. Emma just has a touch of nerves.”

He didn’t tell me everything. He didn’t betray Emma’s confidence. Not even to me. I admired that so much, and I could never tell him.

I leaned my head on his shoulder and hoped my contented heart could send some sort of telepathic message to him.

“What were you and Valerie talking about in the bathroom? Pamela said she thought you might have been arguing,” he asked absently as we pulled off, past Michael and Emma in their car.

My stomach turned. “I don’t know where she got that impression. It was something or other about the wedding.” It wasn’t a lie. I didn’t know how Pamela had overheard us from the alley, and we had been talking about the wedding—just not the one Neil assumed we were talking about.

“She’ll still be planning the bloody thing a week from now.” He made the statement with genuine affection, and I felt the most horrific stab of hatred toward her. But I couldn’t say anything to Neil, not when he was so stressed out. My anger at Valerie was an infection killing off any shred of niceness in me. I had to let off some of it, or I would fester until I burst like a gangrenous leg. But there was no one I could talk to. Holli had been my only close friend, after I’d lost so many work friends when I’d been blacklisted at Porteras. Valerie was Emma’s mom, so even after the wedding, I wouldn’t mention it to her. I couldn’t say anything to anyone. It was a terrible, lonely feeling.

“I was thinking,” he began tentatively, picking imaginary lint from the knee of his trousers, “when Michael said what he did about Emma. That he knew from the moment he saw her…”

I wanted to brace myself, to believe that what he would say next would be, “I didn’t feel that way about you.” But he wouldn’t. Because I knew it wasn’t true.


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