Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 527

Chapter 527

Nicholas’ POV

I went down the stairs with heavy steps, but my mind was somewhere else entirely.

On Gwen’s fragile body, unconscious in my arms. On how surprisingly light she’d felt when I carried her to the truck, like she was made of something too delicate for this world. On those intense blue eyes staring up at me with a mix of confusion and certainty that made no sense at all. On her long legs slipping off the gurney when I tried to help her get settled.

And the kiss.

Shit. The kiss.

It hadn’t been that kind of kiss. The kind that steals your breath and makes the world stop. It had been almost a peck. Quick. Chaste. Innocent. Her lips had touched mine for no more than two seconds before Bella appeared in the doorway.

If my daughter hadn’t shown up and interrupted us…

I shook my head hard, pushing the thought away. Of course I would have done the same thing. Pulled back. Explained. Set boundaries. I wasn’t the kind of man who took advantage of a confused, vulnerable woman who’d just hit her head.

But the memory of her soft lips against mine refused to leave.

‘Focus, Nicholas. She’s a guest. A temporarily confused guest who’ll be gone in a few days.’

I reached the bottom of the stairs and turned left, following the hallway toward the kitchen. The smell of freshly baked bread hit me before I even pushed the door open. Rosemary. Olive oil. That perfect golden crust only my mother ever managed to get just right.

The kitchen was the heart of the property. Big and warm, with marble countertops worn smooth by time, copper pots hanging on the walls, and a massive stone fireplace that kept the space cozy even on the coldest winter days. Bella was perched on the tall stool by the central island, swinging her legs, flour on her nose and a grin stretched from ear to ear.

And my mother. Martina Valemont. Sixty-two years old and pure energy. She was pulling the last batch of bread from the pan, wearing the floral oven mitts I’d given her.

“So, you’re engaged to the new guest, Nick?” she fired off without even looking at me, though I could hear the barely contained laughter in her voice.

She turned, brown eyes sparkling with amusement, and let out a warm, open laugh that made Bella laugh too, even though she clearly had no idea why.

I laughed back, shaking my head as I walked over to the basket of still-warm bread on the counter. I grabbed one, lightly burning my fingertips, and tore it in half, releasing a cloud of fragrant steam.

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“Not exactly,” I said around a bite. It was perfect as always. “She hit her head and she’s confused. The doctor told me not to contradict her or it could slow her recovery.”

Bella stopped swinging her legs and tilted her head to the side, messy curls falling over one shoulder.

“Is the lady crazy?” she asked, with the brutal honesty only kids have.

I laughed again, softer this time, and stepped closer to run a gentle hand over her head.

“No, sweetheart. She’s just… hurt. And Daddy’s taking care of her.”

Bella thought about that for a moment, her little eyes studying me seriously.

“With a kiss?” she asked, and my stomach dropped.

My mother, who was placing the bread into a wicker basket, froze. Then, slowly, she turned to look at me, a mischievous little smile curling her lips.

“With a kiss?” my mother repeated, her eyebrows lifting so high they nearly disappeared into the gray hair twisted into a loose bun.

I felt my face heat up. Great. I’m blushing. At thirty-three years old, I’m blushing like a teenager caught doing something stupid.

“I’m just following medical advice,” I muttered, grabbing another piece of bread and shoving it into my mouth so I’d have an excuse not to say anything else.

Martina let out a loud, musical laugh that filled the entire kitchen.

“Medical advice!” she echoed, drying her hands on a dish towel. “Nick, my son, I raised you. I know when you’re making excuses. The girl is beautiful. I saw her…”

“I’m not making anything up,” I argued, though even I could hear how unconvincing I sounded. “Dr. Marshall said not to stress her out. Not to create conflict. If she thinks we’re…” I swallowed hard. “…

engaged, then for now it’s easier to just… not argue.”

Bella opened her mouth to ask another question, probably something just as embarrassing, so I quickly changed the subject.

“Miss Parker seems elegant,” I said, leaning against the counter and crossing my arms. “The kind of woman who would have a lawyer ready to sue us if she wanted to. So let’s just… keep things friendly. It’s only a few days. That’s what the doctor said. Two days and she should be fine.”

Martina’s expression shifted. The laughter faded, replaced by something more serious. More maternal. She dried her hands completely and stepped closer, lowering her voice so Bella, now distracted with a piece of raw dough she absolutely should not have been eating, wouldn’t hear.

“Nick,” my mother said gently. “We need to notify this woman’s family. Did she list an emergency contact

when she made the reservation?”

I pulled my phone from my back pocket and opened the inn’s booking spreadsheet. I scrolled until I

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found her name. Gwen Parker.

I checked every field.

“No,” I said, frowning. “No emergency contact. But at least the last name matches. Gwen Parker. Same as what’s in the system.”

Martina bit her lower lip, a worried crease forming between her brows.

“The right thing to do would be to inform the police,” she said, and it wasn’t a suggestion. It was a mother’s voice. The voice of responsibility and common sense. “Ask them to look for a relative.

Someone who can take care of her.”

I thought about it, running my thumb over the phone screen without really seeing anything. She was right. Martina almost always was.

But something held me back. Maybe the urge to figure out, on my own, more about that mysterious woman upstairs.

“Maybe,” I said finally, slipping the phone away. “But let’s give her the forty-eight hours the doctor mentioned. She’s fine. She’s just… confused. Her memory should come back soon and-”

I glanced around to make sure Bella was still distracted before lowering my voice to nearly a whisper.

“You know how it is. If we can avoid involving the police, it’s better that way.”

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