HIS HEIR

XIMENA.

My whole body felt like I had gotten into a fight with angry lions. I winced as I tried to sit up.

I ached everywhere. I tried pulling the duvet over my body, but something was holding it back. Another pull—but it still felt like the hold on it was getting stronger.

I turned on the lamp to look at what was holding it, and I almost jumped out of the bed when I saw a man lying beside me.

With my heart racing, I raised the duvet—and my eyes met my unclad self beneath it.

I closed my mouth in panic to stop myself from screaming.

What have I done?

I scampered around the room, picking up my clothes and hurriedly wearing them, making sure not to wake the stranger. I needed to go before he woke up.

After putting on my clothes, with my shoes in one hand and my bag in the other, I tiptoed to the door, making sure I didn’t make any sound.

“Running.”

The bastard was awake.

“Shit,” I cursed under my breath.

I turned to look at him, and he was already sitting upright, both hands behind his head.

“I’m already used to men leaving first after a one-night stand, but seeing a woman doing it now? I must confess, it’s new.”

“I wasn’t running,” I denied, dropping my bag and shoes on the floor.

“I saw you tiptoeing like you stole something. You’re an adult—when you make a decision, stand by it and stop running like a criminal.”

“And who are you to lecture me?” I asked.

It was my first real chance to look at him properly. I hadn’t seen his face well that night, but looking at him now, he could pass for an angel.

“Maybe if you come back to bed, you’ll get a chance to know me—and I might as well do the same.”

I didn’t want to know him. This was a mistake. My impulsive decisions had once again landed me in an uncomfortable situation. I needed to get out of here as fast as my legs could carry me.

“I don’t want to. Thank you for last night, I had fun—but right now, I think it’s time to say the grace and go our separate ways.”

I turned around and walked to the door.

“Get back here.”

I froze, unable to move.

It wasn’t the words—it was the way he said them. There was just something about the tone that made me want to run back to the bed and listen to him. It was the same commanding tone he used last night when he told me to take off my clothes—and I almost shredded my favorite shirt obeying him.

I turned back and moved to my side of the bed.

“I am Jason. And you are?” he asked, looking at me. His stare was cold.

“Ximena Branson,” I whispered, but loud enough for him to hear.

There was something about his stare that made me want to hide under the earth—but at the same time, I wanted to be in it for a long time.

“I’m going to be brief with what I’m about to say, and I want you to listen well. You’re carrying my child, and I don’t want you leaving here. You’ll be under my watch for a while.”

He was serious. He didn’t laugh. It didn’t look like a joke.

I had spent the night with a madman.

“I know what I’m saying might sound weird to you, and I understand—I won’t take that from you. Whatever we had last night will definitely result in a child, and I want you to keep it. You’re carrying my heir.”

I didn’t know when I started laughing. “Your heir?” I asked amidst laughter.

He wasn’t laughing with me, and I didn’t care. I watched as he put his hand inside the little bedside drawer, picked up his wallet, and threw a card at me.

I stared at him for a while, wondering what he was up to, before reluctantly picking up the card.

He was the CEO of White Horse? The leading brewery company in Mexico and all over the world? The Stallion of Mexico?

My eyes moved from the card to him. I hadn’t spent the night with a madman like I had thought—it turned out to be the new owner of generational wealth, one who could destroy me with just his fingertip.

I threw the card back at him.

“That’s enough for today. I’ll be on my way out now. I don’t know what you’re insinuating, but I’m not pregnant.”

“You’re not yet—but you’ll soon be. And I want you to be willing to carry my child. I’ll make your life easy. I’ll give you the protection you want. You and that baby will live in luxury for the rest of your lives. I’m sure you know what I mean by luxury.”

Was I hearing right? The CEO of White Horse—a multibillionaire—wanted me to carry his child? What in the name of billionaire romance novels was happening here?

But then again, if it was what I thought it was, this would be a major tool for my comeback. I would not only be a model again, but I’d be affiliated with the White Group. All my needs and wants would be attended to.

“Why are you so sure that I’ll be pregnant?”

“What happened last night is enough to prove that my hunch is right.”

It was funny, but I needed to play along. Everything about it was both funny and scary.

“What do I stand to gain?”

“Power, luxury, and anything you want.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“How am I sure you wouldn’t go back on your words?” I asked, looking at him—his eyes calling me to stand on the other side of the table with him.

Here I was, threading a path with someone who could destroy my career even before it started—but I still wanted him. I still wanted to feel his fingers between my legs. His presence was frightening, yet it beckoned me and gave me warmth.

“Marry me.”