The Carrero Solution (Carrero Book 3)

The man isn’t very tall, around five-foot-eight at most, and sort of stocky with dark brown hair and brown eyes. Leila is hauling him this way, like a dominatrix leading a gimp, and as they approach, I realize this must be Kurt. The delicate features and adoring way he’s gazing at her as she bullies him toward our table says it all. The guy has smitten written all over him and is in no way even attempting to battle down the wild Leila peeking out.

So not good for her at all.

She orders him to sit down icily, taking the seat next

to his and slumps in her chair, downing three drinks in a

row in the most alarming way. He tries to talk to her

and she totally blanks him, far too intent on waving down the passing waitress for another drink by holding her empty one in the air. I’m too far across the table to warn her to slow down or throw her any kind of message, and I have no clue why she’s trying to get so drunk so quickly. At least they’ve removed my focus from the near overwhelming panic attack I was close to.

The waitress is rambling on in my ear about the courses and specials. I’m not even sure if she’s asking me about ordering food or talking to someone else as I home in on the reappearance of Jake across the room. I’m always drawn to that masculine sexiness whenever he enters a room, like a moth to a flame. But then I am pretty sure about a dozen other female sets of eyes do the same thing.

Jake is here, minus Daniel, and looks on edge. His whole manner is uptight, his hair is a little messy, the tell-tale sign he’s been running his hand through it, and his jacket has been unbuttoned with his tie loosened. He’s disheveled, to say the least, and not the immaculate guy who was present a couple of minutes ago. He looks a lot like the Jake, who came home and told me he’d hurt me, and my heart tightens in response.

He would never do anything like that again. Trust him.

Sylvana snaps around at his approach guiltily and immediately jumps up to meet him. She’s saying something under her breath, fixing his bow tie and jacket hurriedly. His hands go to his hair to calm it down, suggesting she’s pointed out that he looks a little less groomed than before, and I can’t help but watch the expression on his face as he does what he’s told to, with zero arguments. He’s completely out of his depth and nothing like the Jake Carrero I know and love. His eyes are raking in the faces of the people around the room as though taking some sort of mental checklist.

My stomach tightens, and my hands get clammy again. Only one thing could make Jake this scared out of his mind that even his appearance is something he’s oblivious of. His behavior is all I need to see to know I’m right about what he has planned.

Fuck. He’s really going to do this, isn’t he? He’s going to do this, and they all know! It’s why They’re all here and why she’s fussing over his clothes. It’s not that I don’t want it. It’s just so public and so … Oh my God! It hits me suddenly …

Fireworks and a floor show!

His words. His promise. He really is going to do this after all.

Tonight.

Here!

My insides lurch up in a terrifying need to throw up. I stare down at my cold, trembling, clammy hands and take steady, long, low, and calm breaths. Deliberately holding them longer and counting them out.

I won’t run. I won’t freak. I can do this.

I have hurt him so many times, and it always ended up hurting me as well. I need to relax and trust him on this, go with the flow just like he would. Don’t ruin something so obviously special.

I glance up as he moves toward me, catching his eyes instantly, and somehow that small contact changes his demeanor. He grounds me the way he always seems to. Those endless eyes and his handsome face bringing me out of my own head. I seem to be calming him too, and he’s returning the favor. If we keep looking at one another, then maybe I can get through this without turning into a crazy loon who high-tails it out of the door in a ridiculously long dress.

I love him. He’s all I need. His heart is just as fragile as mine, don’t bruise it, Emma.

“Dance with me?” he asks, holding out a trembling hand as he gets to my side. Adoringly, I smile up at him and brace for what is about to happen, resigning to let him take the lead. I take one last steadying breath to push it down as far as possible and try to find my inner bravery.

You won’t fuck this up, Emma.

Jake is nervous, and he’s making me even more so. He moves against me on the dance floor as the orchestra plays a smooth ballad, soft and romantic, and others join us on the floor. His eyes are on mine, and even though he’s smiling I can feel his heart beating at a hundred miles an hour through his chest. The tension radiating from him is alarming. Even locking eyes is starting to fail as his inner emotions begin to get the better of him, and suddenly I don’t want to let him fall apart. I want to calm him down, so he can do this for us.

“I love you.” I smile at him and lay my head against his chest, trying to soothe him without giving the game away. Hoping that I radiate some needed reassurance that I’m here with him, that I’m not running, and that there is no doubt about my answer. I always knew what my answer would be from the moment I figured this out. It was never about saying no to him because I know I never would.

“I love you, baby … maybe too much.” He smiles at me, and this time as I tilt my face back up to him, I can see it’s genuine. I notice a small squaring of his jaw, reminding me that he’s still coiled up like a spring about to erupt.

I catch sight of the outer patio doors in the grand room being opened by waiting staff and lift my head to look, slightly confused. It’s not an overly warm night, and it’s not nearly warm enough to open every door wide this way.

Jake takes a loud breath slowly, so close to my ear, and I face back up at him questioningly. His body is hitting an all-time high tension, and my heart starts hammering again, knowing it’s close. He blows it out over the top of my head and avoids my gaze.

Breathe … Don’t freak out.

I stare up at that handsome face to ground myself once more. His eyes are focused on the orchestra and he’s so tense he’s almost rigid. Our dancing has slowed to a partial halt and the couples around us seem to be moving away as though they’ve been given some signal that they should do so. I’m not sure that I like the fact we seem to be in the center of the room with a widening gap happening all around us, so very public, among a sea of faces. I just need to keep reminding myself of whose strong arms are around me, that he will always keep me safe.

Jake has a silent trance-like look on his face, the same one as the day we found out I was pregnant, and suddenly I don’t feel so brave anymore. Even in his arms, I’m submerged in the icy coldness of fear engulfing me. He’s not with me right now, his head elsewhere, and I’m left adrift.

Looking around in a panic, I realize people are staring this way, terror is rising inside me, and hysteria grips hold until it’s like I’m almost choking. My body starts to tense with the first signs of an all-out panic attack. I’m starting to freak out, the tension starting in my toes, sliding up my body slowly, in a horrible, sickening cold wave that I know will black out my mind and devour me. My feet are ready to run far, far, away from something terrifying, and I have no control.

And then I hear it.

The beautiful words of the singer floating our way across the crowded room. These words that will be ingrained in my brain for a lifetime. It completely stills me, like a calming balm, and somehow, he’s already figured out the one thing to halt my fear, focusing me back on him. His arms come around me gently, and he pulls my chin to face him with one hand. I can feel him begin to calm too as our eyes meet again, and he mouths along with the song, swaying me gently to dance with me in his embrace.

“Say you love me….”

The woman sings out the song that makes my heart break wide open, and, at this moment, I forget about everything else. Every person, every terrifying feeling, and anything that isn’t him. Emotions flood me and push every single fear away, my stomach aching, and my heart fills with love.

This song started it all between us, the real relationship and the beginning of feeling his love for me. The one he sent me across a crowded dance floor in an opulent setting, much like this one, and I suddenly get it.

He’s re-enacting that dance floor, wiping out the memory of me running from him, and he’s using the same song to ask me the same thing, only this time he wants to know if I’ll be his forever. He’s offering me himself the way he did that night, a chance to clear everything that has happened between us since that dance and start again. To forget about her and hurting me and everything else. To let him love me the way he promised he would.

Jake, you’re killing me with your ability to sweep me off my feet right now.

Tears fill my eyes while my soul is aching, watching him sing to me with that beautiful husky rock star voice. I gaze up at him with complete adoration. It seems like hours lost in those green eyes and that face, dampness hitting my skin as he brushes my cheek with his thumb and moves me slightly in his arms. He moves further away again, holding me at arm’s length but never breaking eye contact, and slides down to one knee mid-song.

I catch the sob in my throat as it hits me deep in my chest, and I hold onto his shoulder when the urge to crumble overtakes me, almost turning my body to mush. I steady myself, focusing on the way he’s looking at me so intensely. Those emerald eyes hold me so readily in their strong gaze, grounding me in the way only he can, despite everything around us, bringing my focus to what is happening between us.

I forget about everyone, the faces, the sea of people, even the noise, and I see only him. Always … only him.

The sounds of fireworks echo from an outside set of a chorus of ‘oohs and aahs’ from other diners, but I don’t turn to look. I’m caught with him in his gaze, he has me captured, and I’m completely mesmerized. All fear, panic, and doubt fluttered away on the breeze as though it was never there, locked together, just the two of us. So, when he opens a box containing the most beautiful delicate ring I’ve ever seen in my life, my hand flies to my mouth, and I let the tears fall freely. No longer ashamed of people seeing my vulnerability or emotions.

“Marry me, Emma? Make me the luckiest guy that ever lived. I’m yours. Always yours, and I’ll spend a lifetime worshiping and cherishing every single part of you, Bambina … You’re my heart, baby.” Jake holds the box out toward me. His hands are trembling, and his gaze is focused on my face as I take deep, calming breaths to find my voice. Completely overwhelmed with emotion and love for him, with the perfection of what he has done for me.

This cocky CEO who infiltrated my heart every second of every day since the moment I laid eyes on him, and here he is, kneeling in front of me in front of everyone in the world who matters to the both of us, asking me to trust him. Giving himself to me fully, not caring about being on his knees before a woman, and wholeheartedly letting me take the lead. Hanging up his Casanova crown rather spectacularly.

“Yes, Jake. Yes!” I cry silently, and my hand shakes as he slides that cool piece of metal and sparkle onto my finger. He is every bit as overwhelmed as me, and the happiness all over his face is radiant. I’m swept up in the arms of the strongest, sexiest man I have ever met, and when his mouth comes crashing to mine in a toe-curling assault of love, I know I am completely and hopelessly lost to him for an eternity.