The Billionaire's Convenient Bride: A BWWM Billionaire Love Story (14 page)

     At the end of the night, Nelson asked Tristan to ride home with him, and Tristan grudgingly obliged. Peter and Emmaline stayed until the last of their guests were gone, and then they went home together in the limousine, happily discussing the wildly successful evening. When they reached the house, he went into the drawing room for a drink and she went down the hall to her bedroom, but a few minutes later, her high heels discarded into her closet, she padded back down the hall to the drawing room to see Peter.

     She walked in and saw him leaning against the back of the sofa. His shirt was unbuttoned most of the way and the cuffs of his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His hair was slightly tousled from him running his hands through it. He looked up at her in surprise and smiled warmly at her.

     “You were so amazing tonight, Emma. Thank you,” he said, waving to her to invite her in to join him. “I will never lose sight of the fact that none of this would even be happening if it wasn’t for you. It’s all because of you; every bit of it.”

     She laughed a little and walked toward him. He watched her body move under the snug green material that rippled and shined on her, and it made his stomach tighten.

     “You made me feel as though I really mattered tonight,” she said softly, reaching him and standing just before him.

     He blinked in surprise. “You…” he said, “…you matter more than anything! More than everything else!”

     Emmaline looked at him in surprise. “Do I?”

     Peter stood up and stepped before her, lifting his hand and placing it underneath her chin. “I am nothing at all without you,” he said softly. “I know that now.”

     Her breath caught and she didn’t know if she could voice the question she had come to ask him. She didn’t know if she really wanted to know the answer to it, because the answer might be more than she had considered. As she looked up at his face, she realized that she had to know.

     “Peter,” she said in a hushed tone, “earlier tonight you said something that I…” she took a deep breath and he waited for her to continue, “something that I was surprised to hear.”

     He knew what she would ask, and he felt himself coming to a crossroads. He didn’t know how he could answer it without jeopardizing their arrangement.

     “You said that you love me more than this city,” she whispered, watching him closely. “Do you? Do you really love me?” She couldn’t believe that she had spoken the words.

     Peter looked at her, standing there in her emerald gown looking as beautiful as he could ever imagine, and he could not speak. He could not say what he wanted so much to say to her. He could not risk losing her, but he had to find a way to respond somehow. His eyes seemed to lock on hers and he could not turn away, and he could not ignore her question.

     He stared at her for a moment, then smiled slightly and touched her cheek with his hand. “Who in the world couldn’t love you?” Then his resolve crumbled and the nearness of her became an intoxication that he could not resist. Reason and rhyme vanished from his mind and emotion took over.

     Emmaline felt the same heat she had felt earlier as he touched her, and she drew in her breath and lifted her hand to cover his hand as it touched her face. “But you…” she began to say, and couldn’t finish her thought, because he leaned toward her and pressed his lips to hers again. He could not hold himself back, nor did he want to. He had kissed her a few times that night, and not once did he kiss her as fully as he wished he could.

     Her eyes closed as his lips touched hers and he pulled her into his embrace. She let herself become lost in the heat and strength of his body as his arms closed around her, and when he parted her lips with his, her heart began to pound. Peter‘s tongue met hers and everything in her felt like it was moving almost at the speed of light. His kiss deepened as their tongues entwined, and he pulled her body tightly up against his.

     White hot flames grew in her belly and she felt drawn to him as though he might have been her center of gravity. His mouth stole her breath away, and her hands somehow found their way around him, holding him in return. His hands moved over her bare shoulders and across her bare back, and her skin felt as though it ignited with heat wherever he touched her. Her heart was racing, blood pounding in her, and her body began to feel a need for him in the hot depths of her.

     Peter was lost in his own ocean of desire, in the daydreams he had had about her that were coming to life in his arms. His mouth moved from hers and traveled slowly down her throat, kissing and tasting her dark skin as he went, while his hand moved to her hip, squeezing the curve there, and pulling her against the solid, thick form of his hungry desire for her. As his erection pressed against her body, she let out a gasp of surprise and a moan of need, closing her eyes and losing herself completely to the feelings that were rushing all throughout her.

     That was when reality came rushing back to Peter and everything around him came into focus. Emmaline there in his arms, her head tilted back, her eyes closed, his mouth on her neck and his hand on her hips, holding her to his body, his erection pressed against her, and he realized that this was the crossroads. He could continue. He could pull her dress off of her and lay her on the sofa, he could run his hands all over her gorgeous body, he could spread her legs and enter her, and make love to her for the rest of the night, but all of his playboy years had taught him that the sun always comes up in the morning, and when it did, it brought reality with it.

     Everything would be changed between the two of them. Everything would be totally different, and while he was finally able to admit that he was in love with her, she was not in love with him, and he knew it. She could feel angry or hurt, perhaps used, and that would only be the beginning of the trouble he would see, because he’d been honest when he said that everything good in his life just then was happening because of her, because she was in his life, and all of it was hanging in the balance. All of it would be swept away if she left him, if she felt like he was using her or taking advantage of her situation. He knew he could not do what he wanted more than anything, though she was ready for him and he was very aware of it. He could not make love with her that night, and the only thing that he could do, was to stop everything at that moment, if he was to save the future for both of them. Ration and passion are never bedfellows, he thought to himself.

     Peter let go of her slowly, reining his heart back in and raising his head as he looked down at her. He withdrew his hands from her and took a deep breath as she looked back at him in utter astonishment.

     It felt as though a cool wind had wakened her from a dream, and she blinked up at him, trying to discern what was happening. He immediately grew worried that he’d messed it all up, that she would run away and leave him standing there heartbroken.

     “I’m so sorry, Emmaline, I didn’t mean to get carried away with you. You just looked so beautiful tonight, and I guess old habits die hard with me.” He gave her the slightest of smiles and turned away from her, trying to catch his breath and slow his heart down.

     She stared at him for a moment and then realized what had been happening. He had let his lust for women out with her, and she had fallen for it. She had succumbed to him, like so many women before her. She felt flashes of shame and foolishness envelope her, and before those emotions took her over, she remembered something else.

     “That wasn’t just you,” she breathed heavily. “That was both of us together. We didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do.”

     Her words felt like a dragnet, pulling him back to her, but he could not let himself do what he wanted so desperately to do; to hold her and make love to her, and so he began to walk away from her but she grabbed his arm to stop him.

     “What just happened? What was that?” she asked him anxiously, looking up into his eyes.

     He shook his head, looking at her with a hint of sadness in his eyes. “I let myself go too far with you,” he said, and then he turned and walked out of the room, leaving her to stare after him.

     Peter went to his room and took a cold shower, hating himself for letting his desires get the better of him. He could not risk losing her, and she was already interested in Tristan. He had no right to kiss her like she was his to kiss; his to hold. He was consumed with regret and he promised himself that it would never happen again unless she wanted him.

     Emmaline watched the door close and felt hot tears stinging her eyes. She closed them and tried to settle all the varying emotions in her heart and mind. He was a Don Juan, a Casanova, a playboy, lover of women, someone she should stay away from. She wondered if he was right, and if he had played her, like he had done with all of his other women, but then she thought of the emotion and desire that had come from so deep within her and she knew that it wasn’t just him seducing her. She had kissed him back, she had wanted him, and that wasn’t from nothing. That was not because he had tricked her or romanced her.

     She could not figure out where her desire for him had come from. She had been so wrapped up in the idea of Tristan, of his sweet and charming manner with her, his beautiful looks and his thoughtful considerate ways. He was her ideal man, she was sure of it; he was everything she had been looking for and he didn’t even know it. They just clicked and they were so good together, but then she wondered how she could have been so powerfully drawn to Peter, so desirous of him, when he wasn’t the right man for her at all. He didn’t fit any of the characteristics that she had in mind for a husband, and she despised the kind of man that he had been before she was with him. 

     Emmaline walked to the sofa and sat down on it, confused and frustrated with Peter, herself, and the situation. She turned the whole situation over and over in her mind, looking at both men, thinking about them both and what they were to her, and what she wanted from them. She was so exhausted from the day that she fell asleep there on the sofa in a matter of minutes. Her dreams were mixed between the men and her, and she felt lost, trying to find her place.

     Peter wrapped himself in a bathrobe and ran a comb through his hair. He walked out of his bathroom and decided to have one more drink before bed. It had been a long day and his heart was torn in chaos. He walked barefoot into the drawing room and began to pour himself a drink when he heard a soft noise and turned toward the sofa. From behind it, he could see bare feet poking out over the edge of it and he walked around the furniture, looking down at Emmaline as she slept there on the cushions in her emerald green dress. A smile grew on his face and he shook his head. Peter bent over and picked her up carefully, cradling her in his strong arms, and walked down the hall into her room. As he walked, she stirred and nestled her face against his bare chest, where his robe was partly opened. Her breath was soft on his skin, and warm on his heart.

     He laid her on her bed and looked at her, loving her even more as he watched her sleep. He knew he had to be careful, but he couldn’t resist leaning down to kiss her mouth softly as she dreamed. Her lips moved for a moment, and she kissed him back lightly, and then she fell into deep sleep and did not move again. Peter sat there beside her for a long while, his hand in hers, watching her, loving her, wishing that he could have her, and then finally he let her hand go, stood up, and left her room, closing the door softly behind him.

     In her dreams, Emmaline was with him and he was somehow without clothes on above the waist. In her dream, she touched her hand to him and they kissed, and in her dream, he made love with her, and then she found herself alone, and it was cold without him.

*

Emmaline awoke to a knock on the door. She opened her eyes and discovered that she was still in her dress. She called out, asking for a moment, then undressed and pulled a satin robe on and answered her door. Tristan was standing there with a large tray filled with food and coffee.

     She smiled suddenly and laughed, and invited him in. They sat on her bed and she looked at the wide array of breakfast he had made for her again and shook her head. “I told you that you didn’t have to do this! Thank you, though, it’s really wonderful.”

     He leaned close to her and kissed her cheek. “I am glad to do things for you like this,” he said with a smile. She began to eat and Tristan sipped his coffee.

     “That was some party last night,” he said quietly. “I think you both made quite a convincing couple to the public, as you always seem to do.” He looked into the dark liquid in his cup and added, “You almost had me convinced as well.”

     Emmaline realized that he was a little hurt about how she and Peter were with each other at the party and she felt badly for him. “Tristan, we have to be like that with one another for the papers and the public. That’s why he hired me.”

     Tristan nodded. “Well, it seems like sparks tend to fly brightly when you two are close together. I felt like I faded into the background quite a bit,” he said, but then amended. “That’s probably a good thing. It would be bad if anyone saw a connection between the two of us.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it.

     She agreed, and enjoyed her meal with him, but she saw that there was a seed of jealousy in him that she hadn’t known would be there, and it bothered her slightly. They were going to have to be careful with each other over the coming months so that their affections for each other weren’t photographed by any press or seen by anyone who may destroy the charade that she was a part of. His jealousy was not going to help that at all.