The Billionaire's Regret
“Mommy. Salma. Bunny.”
Then, without warning, she turned the camera.
Straight to Sebastian.
Damn it.
Sebastian was standing near the living room window, one hand in the pocket of his joggers, the other holding his second or third mug of coffee today, who knew. Daylight fell across one side of his face. Gray T-shirt. Lounge pants. Very domestic. Very unsafe to be displayed to New York through a small screen.
He lifted his eyes to the screen, then to Poppy, then back to the screen with the calm of a bastard who had never had a panic nerve in his body.