Billionaires In Love (Vol. 2): 5 Books Billionaire Romance Bundle Read Online Free PDF Page B

That’s normal.”
    “Okay.”
    “Call the nurses if you’re concerned.”
    I nodded, wishing he would just get it over with.
    Dr. Caliendo looked at me one more time, then slowly pushed in the plunger. Nothing happened. He said it wouldn’t, but part of me expected her to open her eyes the moment the medication began to flow into her body.
    She didn’t. She just remained peaceful.
    My own Sleeping Beauty.

Chapter 4
     
    Harley
    I was dreaming. At least, I thought I was. I was back in Texas, standing in the center of my art studio, staring at a huge canvas that was larger than anything I’d ever worked on before. There were flowers—I hate flowers!—everywhere. Red roses. Yellow roses. Irises. Carnations. Daisies and mums. So many flowers that they were even in the painting, hidden in the lines of a woman’s dress, the angles of a man’s jaw. It was the strangest thing I’d ever seen.
    And then it changed, the room itself becoming larger, brighter. There were skylights, the kind I’d always wanted in my studio, and gorgeous built-ins that were big enough to hold all the paints I could ever use. My studio had metal shelves that’d come in a box from the local Wal-Mart.
    I didn’t understand where I was or why I felt heaviness in my chest when I looked around. It was all so familiar, but it was tied to some sort of betrayal. Why would I feel betrayal in my studio?
    And then the dream shifted again. Now I was in a bridal store, looking at wedding dresses. A dark-haired woman was there with me, but I didn’t know who she was. She seemed familiar. She felt like a friend. But, again, that sense of betrayal crept through me, telling me something I didn’t understand.
    I tried to walk away, but my right leg began to ache deep inside. And then my chest hurt, the pain fresh, but coming from a place I didn’t quite understand. I tried to touch myself where the pain was the worst, but my arm wouldn’t cooperate. I could move my fingers, but my arm just wasn’t having anything to do with it.
    “Harley?”
    The voice was warm and deep, vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t quite figure out why I knew it. I wanted to wake up, but I was still stuck in that bridal store, my body refusing to cooperate when I tried to walk, to run, to even step down from the pedestal where I was showcasing a ridiculously hideous dress I would never wear. It was something out of one of my mother’s Southern Bride magazines, a bell skirt that flared ridiculously wide around the hips and ankles. I would prefer an A-line design with a sweetheart bodice and tulle back. That is, when and if I were ever to get married.
    Philip had yet to ask, though he’d been hinting at it for a while.
    “Wake up, Harley,” that deep voice said again.
    It was so familiar, but I still couldn’t place it. It was like an itch you just can’t scratch. The answer was right there on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t quite catch it.
    “The doctor said it would take time,” another voice said, this one female. “You have to be patient.”
    “It’s been three days.”
    Three days? What’s been three days?
    “I’m sure she’ll wake up soon. Just have patience.”
    She? Were they talking about me? Who were these people? Where was I?
    I felt a hand on mine. I looked down, but the dream had begun to lose substance. My hand was just a sort of blur now, lost in the fabric that was beginning to disappear. I moved my fingers, but I couldn’t see them move. But they must have because that deep, warm voice said, “See that? I told you she was starting to come around.”
    It sounded like a nice voice. Reassuring somehow.
    I moved my fingers again.
    “That’s it, Harley. Wake up, baby.”
    Baby? Was it Philip?
    But that didn’t feel right. Philip had never called me baby. He called me things like “darling” and “sweetie.” But never “baby.” “Baby” was too common for someone like Philip. His father, as he kept reminding me, was a Harvard man who