Billion Dollar Bastard: An Alpha Male Step Brother Billionaire Romance (17 page)

BOOK: Billion Dollar Bastard: An Alpha Male Step Brother Billionaire Romance

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KYLE

This was better than sex.

“And that, guys, is how you balance a budget.”

I finished the last slide of my power point. The tiny group of Port-au-prince businessmen clapped politely, starting to chat amongst themselves in creole. I had only recently begun to learn the language and I struggled to understand them but, at the very least, they seemed to have understood what I was trying to get across.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t better than sex. But it was fun. And I felt good doing it.

For such a ravaged country, Haiti is a beautiful place. An inspiring place. The people, the food, everything.

I began teaching business courses at a community college while Karen taught English. I resisted the urge to buy the finest condo in the city for us—we were determined to live simply for a while.

None of the people I knew back in New York completely understood why we went to Haiti. No one except for Nicholas and, actually, Liana. Apparently, Karen had been thinking of what Liana said when she agreed to go with me.

I hadn’t talked to either Liana or Nicholas since we arrived in Haiti but they both gave their blessing. The tabloids had a field day, Nicholas had told me in an email, but quickly seized upon one of the other myriad scandals that drifted through their scattered collective minds every week. I was just one of the dreams and there were many more to entertain readers on the subway.

After class, I walked along the streets of Port-au-Prince, taking in the sights, the smells, learning what it was like to live in a place so different, so divorced from our reality in New York. I had given loans to several small businesses around the city and I made a point of visiting each one every week, helping them troubleshoot problems, overseeing how they were using the money—each one was doing great and I felt like each one was practically a child of mine, a child I was nurturing on its way to greatness.

Speaking of children…

As I arrived home, I heard Karen call me from the kitchen. Our apartment was nice by Haitian standards but modest by my own or even by Karen. But that was what we wanted.

Hell, that was what I needed.

He belly had grown heavy and swollen in the last few months since we had arrived in Haiti. She giggled when I teased her about it, but she knew I wasn’t being serious.

I found Karen in the kitchen, standing over a steaming pot of goat curry and rice and beans. I came up behind her, wrapped my hands around her waist, holding her belly as she cooked and as I pressed my lips into her neck.

“How was class today, baby?” I whispered as she leaned back into me.

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