After dumped, I married a billionaire

Leona Carpenter’s mind went completely blank. Her legs felt heavy as lead, too heavy to move. A car tore past her like a streak of black lightning, so close it was almost terrifying. The gust of wind it kicked up sent her crashing to the wet pavement.

She figured the driver would just speed off—there wasn’t a soul around to see what happened. But instead, the car swung around and screeched to a stop right in front of her.

The door swung open, and a pair of perfectly polished black leather boots stepped out onto the road. Long, straight legs strode toward her with purpose, and a black umbrella tilted over her head to block the unrelenting pouring rain.

"You okay?" Vance Martinez’s deep, rich voice cut through the drumming of the rain.

Leona lifted her gaze to the man standing over her. He had sharp, striking features, a chiseled jawline, and eyes so deep and magnetic they pulled her right in, holding a mysterious glint she couldn’t look away from.

Wait… those eyes. Did she know them? She couldn’t quite place it.

Leona shook her head, her voice soft and rough from the shock. "I’m fine, thank you…"

She pushed herself up with effort, but the scrape on her calf and the cut on her foot made her flinch hard, and she stumbled right back down.

Suddenly, a strong, muscular arm curled around her waist, hauling her steady against a solid, warm frame.

Before she knew it, she was pressed right up against Vance’s chest, wrapped in his crisp, masculine scent. Her hands landed instinctively on his chest, and she could feel the hard, firm muscle under his dress shirt— and her heart immediately started hammering against her ribs.

Her palms burned with embarrassment, and she tried to scramble back. Instead of letting go, he just lifted her effortlessly into his arms.

She frowned, her gaze turning icy. "What do you think you’re doing? Put me down!"

She’d dated Michael Hansen for three years, and they’d barely even held hands more than a handful of times. A stranger this forward? It made her skin prickle with discomfort.

Vance held her gaze, his expression calm and unshakable. "You’re hurt. You need to get to a hospital right now."

"I-I can walk on my own." Being this close to him made her jittery; his cool, commanding aura wrapped around her, and it only amplified her nerves.

"Don’t move," he ordered, his voice firm and authoritative, and all the protests died right in Leona’s throat.

Once she was settled in the car, a cold chill went through her and she sneezed. Vance reached over to turn down the AC, then noticed she was still shivering, and draped his wool coat over her shoulders. "Don’t catch a cold."

"Thank you." The coat held his scent and warmth, and it stirred something weird and unnameable in her chest.

Vance caught the pink rising in her cheeks, and a flicker of amusement glinted in his dark eyes. "I should be the one thanking you."

"What do you mean?" Leona blinked, confused.

He held her gaze steady, his voice low and sure. "Thank you for letting me apologize. For giving me a chance to make this right."

The car ate up the road quickly, and before long they pulled up to a hospital nearby. Leona insisted on walking on her own two feet, so Vance matched her slow pace as she limped toward the emergency entrance.

When she came back out, she found him with his back to her, talking on his phone. The second he spotted her, he hung up and walked straight over. "Here’s my number. Hit me up if you need anything at all."

"I don’t need anything else," Leona said politely, declining the business card he held out. The accident was over, and she liked to keep things simple—no unnecessary messy ties with strangers.

She paused, then held out his coat to him. "Here’s your coat. I’ll pay for the dry cleaning, of course."

Vance glanced at the coat in her hands, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You need it way more than I do right now."

His simple line warmed her chest all of a sudden, unexpected. She wondered if she was just extra raw and vulnerable today, to get this worked up over a stranger’s small kindness.

"Thank you, but I’m fine. I really need to go." She turned down his offer of further help—she had urgent matters waiting for her back at the Hansen house.

Vance watched her slender figure retreat down the sidewalk, a determined glint burning in his eyes. "We’ll meet again soon."