The Billionaire's Convenient Bride: A BWWM Billionaire Love Story (7 page)

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Authors: Cj Howard

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #African American, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Multicultural, #Sports, #Multicultural & Interracial

BOOK: The Billionaire's Convenient Bride: A BWWM Billionaire Love Story
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     Her laugh was a little too hollow. “Oh, I don’t know. Build him from the ground up?” she asked.

     “Yeah, build him from the ground up. Who is he?” Peter asked, grateful that she had put a sort of game-like spin on the subject.

     “He’s a good man. Generous and kind, with a gentle spirit and a good sense of humor. He’s handsome of course,” she giggled.

     “Of course.” He nodded back in agreement.

     “He’s honest and forthright. He could be evil, but he always chooses to be good. He is gentle and passionate, reliable and responsible. He loves to read and learn, he is a lover of classics and a lover of travel. He is adventurous and free spirited. He is selfless and devoted. He believes in equality for all. He is humble and compassionate, strong and motivated, filled with a passion for life and a passion for me, and more than that, a passion for us and our lives and future. He will never hurt me or break my heart, he will never make me doubt or fear. He will always be there to support and encourage me, to build me up and help give me wings to fly so that I can achieve all my dreams and I will do the same for him in return. He is all of those things, and more than that. He’s mine.” She was gazing off into the heavens by that point, dreamily talking through the list she had created.

     “You know that I meant a real man, right?” Peter said, his heart encased in dejection.

     She laughed at him and said, “Oh, and he cooks me breakfast in bed sometimes and rubs my back without my having to ask him to do it.”

     Peter laughed at her more in defense of himself than in mirth, and said, “Now I know you’re dreaming.”

     Emmaline nudged him with her elbow and said, “Well, you asked, but you’re right. I don’t know if he exists, but I haven’t met him yet, so I’m just going to hold out for him until he comes knocking on my door.”

     “What if he comes while you are married to me?” he asked. He had to ask. It was a fear that gnawed at him with dull teeth and no lack of appetite.

     “Then he’ll love me enough to wait for me until my parole, when I can be with him, and he will respect me for my dedication to the commitments I have made,” she said resolutely.

     “He is a good man, Emma. He’s a better man than me. If I found you while you were married to another man, I would steal you away in a minute,” he said, thinking momentarily of what it would be like to steal her away from her another man.

     “Yeah, I know,” she said smartly. “That’s what got us into this mess in the first place. Your penchant for stealing women away from their husbands. The difference is, I want a man who would keep me.” She nudged him again and then patted his arm. “Well, I’m pretty wiped out. It was a long day.” She kissed his cheek and he closed his eyes when she did, living for that brief moment when her lips touched his skin, and her breath warmed his cheek, and then she disappeared below deck and he was left alone with his thoughts, which he told himself was a terrible thing to do to a man.

     Her words came back to him and whipped at him like the sails on a boat in the wind. “That’s what got us into this mess in the first place…” Him stealing women away from their husbands.

     That was what she really thought. She believed she was in a mess that he created, and she was stuck there, helping him until she could get out and leave him hoping to find a better man than him.

     She wasn’t wrong, he had created the mess. He had slept with another man’s wife, albeit it was unknown to him at the time he did it. It hadn’t been the first time, though, he reminded himself. He hadn’t cared if women were married or not and though it wasn’t something he sought out when he looked for women, it wasn’t a deterrent for him either.

     He thought of the man that she had described. Her ideal man. He was so far from it that there was no hope of him being graded on a curve. He wished like crazy that it didn’t matter. He wished that she could see past all of his faults and just want him anyway, just need him somehow, and perhaps even just love him in spite of himself. He let himself wish that more than anything, and he wished it on every star above him in the night sky, but then he promised himself that when the stars faded and the sun rose the next day, he was going to be the devoted, reliable, trustworthy friend that she believed him to be, and he was not going to let her down or hurt her, but rather, lift her up to follow her dreams as she had wanted. She deserved that from him, and much more, and he thought to himself that irony could strike no harder than him finally falling for a woman who not only wanted no romantic relationship with him, but had married him with no intention of ever having a relationship with him beyond that of friendship.

     He looked up at the universe above him in misery. He was getting what he deserved, there was no doubt about that.

 

     Below the deck in her private cabin, Emmaline hung her wedding dress up in the closet and sank back into her bed. Here it was, her wedding night, and she had married a man she did not love, a man she was only friends with, who would be divorcing her in three short years, and this was her honeymoon. Sleeping alone in her cabin on a yacht in the middle of the sea. How ironic, she thought. Her mind wandered back over the day. She saw her grandfather, kissing her cheek and wiping tears from his own eyes. She saw herself walking down the aisle at the church and looking over to find Tristan standing there, his beautiful blue eyes locked on her as they always were whenever he was around her, and the feeling of butterflies going wild within her as she looked back at him. She hadn’t felt that before, and it filled her with wonder and curiosity.

     Then she thought of Peter standing there at the end of the aisle, waiting for her and looking so handsome in his tuxedo. He had the strangest look on his face, as though he was in a trance when he watched her, and she realized that he must have been terrified right out of his mind. The man who was never going to have a serious relationship, standing there tying the knot with her and making a commitment before God and all of their friends that he would be her husband for the rest of her life.

     She had come to her own terms with God about her choice in marrying him with every intention of divorcing him in three years. She looked at it as a mission of mercy, and fully expected that for what she was doing for Peter, God could forgive her for lying when she married him.

     Then she thought of his kiss. It had sent her reeling in his arms and she had almost lost her balance. If she hadn’t held on to him, she was sure she would have hit the floor. She hadn’t expected him to kiss her that way. She thought he would kiss her lightly on the mouth and that would be that, but Peter, ever full of surprises, kissed her like she had never been kissed in her life. He had sent waves of heat and electricity through her that could have lit up Atlantic City for a month. His mouth was so tender, so soft on hers, like a pillow, almost, and he had somehow seemed hungry and gentle all at once, and it had sent her spinning. Thinking of it sent ripples of heat through her and she touched her fingers to her mouth, and for a moment, closed her eyes as the memory of his tongue tasting hers flooded her mind. She wasn’t expecting that at all, and when he opened her mouth and tasted her, it was as though there was suddenly no one else around them. Not just no one else in the church, but no one else anywhere at all, in existence, and her connection to him was the only tether that kept her from flying away. Strong, passionate, gentle, like an anchor that barely held her, but held her with no possibility of letting go.

     She felt herself being rocked to sleep in the cabin, and her eyes did not open back up, but rather, she drifted into a deep sleep where dreams of him hovered around her all through the night, and in her dreams, there was darkness, and nothing could save her but his kiss and his arms, holding on to her and wrapping her tightly in the light of his love.

 

*

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter4

Peter and Emmaline enjoyed a long cruise on their honeymoon yacht. They saw several islands and enjoyed watching multitudes of sea creatures. Their island paradise excursions gave them adventures that they loved and new experiences in unfamiliar cultures. It also gave them time to talk and get to know one another on a more personal level that they had not reached before. After all, they had been strangers in an arranged marriage. It was time for them to become friends.

     A conversation they had shared on their wedding night as the yacht left New Orleans and headed out to sea had rattled around the back of Peter’s mind and he kept thinking that he would bring it back up to talk with her about it more in depth, but he had not found the right time and place to do it until they were lounging at a private house they had rented on one of the islands. It was surrounded by jungle vegetation and the luxurious house had been built around a warm natural spring that came up to the deck at the back of it, lapping gently and providing background noise.

     Peter had gone out onto the deck late one afternoon and found Emmaline swimming in the spring. He watched her quietly for a length of time before she saw him, and when she did, he waved and walked out to the edge of the deck where it stopped over the water.

     “How is the water?” he asked with a smile.

     She swam to him, serene and blissful. “It’s incredible,” she said lightly. “You should try it out.”

     “Alright,” he agreed, standing up and stripping down to boxers, then jumping into it and splashing everything in sight. She howled and laughed at him, and when he swam up to her, she raked her hand across the top of the calmed water and sprayed him with a huge splash of it. “Payback!” she called out and he answered her challenge with an all-out water war.

     Half an hour later, they were both exhausted and he called a truce and went to rest beside her at the bank of the pool. They laughed at one another and she watched him with guarded trust.

     Peter looked at her bright smile and sparkling eyes and had to look away so that he didn’t reach out to her and pull her to him to kiss her soundly. He took a deep breath and said nonchalantly, “Well, it might not be a proper honeymoon, but it’s certainly been a fun vacation. I think we both needed this, there’s been a lot of tension lately.”

     “Well, that’ll change now that the wedding is over and the city is starting to look at you with new eyes. Did you see all the pictures and articles online?” She was incredulous at the amount of press coverage their pseudo-wedding had received.

     “I saw a lot of it. Nelson has been keeping me updated through emails and calls. It looks like our charade is working. I owe you more than I can ever repay you, Emma.” He turned to look at her again, and she shrugged.

      “You are paying me for it though,” she said with a tilt of her head and a small smile.

     He looked away again. “I know. I just don’t think there’s any way I could ever even the score with you. You really saved me and my business. Now that my reputation is at the precipice of a better day, I’ll be able to do the refurbishments in and near the French Quarter that I’ve wanted to do and get that project going. It’s going to take some more time and a lot of work, but I feel like we at least have a chance now, and I owe that all to you. I just wish there was something I could do to really show you my gratitude. Something that isn’t just money. You have changed everything, in more ways than one.”

     “I’m being paid for it. I’m not a saint, Peter.” She looked sidelong at him and leaned her head backward, closing her eyes.

     He looked at her, watching her for a moment and then moved closer to her and said more softly, “You gave up any chance that you might have at real love for the next three years. If that’s not sacrifice, then I don’t know what is.” Peter was a lot of things, but he knew how much love could mean.

     Emmaline’s eyes remained closed and she replied, “Not really. There’s no telling if or when I will ever meet him. He may not show up in my life till long after we’ve gotten divorced and gone our separate ways. You might not be keeping me from him at all. We won’t know till my dream guy finds me.”

     Peter thought back over their conversation on their wedding night. “That was quite a list of qualifications you compiled for him. I’m not sure you’re ever going to find him. I’ve never met a real man like that.”

     She laughed at him. “Maybe that’s because birds of a feather often flock together.” Her mirth sounded in her again, and she continued, “Besides, we don’t have to worry about you finding him or meeting him. I need to be the one who finds him, or be looking in case he’s trying to find me.”

     Peter watched her laying there in the water, her head back and her hair wavering gently in the ripples that played with it. He looked at her mouth and thought of the kiss they had shared at their wedding. Their only real kiss, as he didn’t count the time he had planted his lips on hers in a drunken act of idiocy. He wanted very much to lean over her and kiss her again, but part of him railed against it just as much as part of him desired to do it.

     “What if your perfect guy is just a little bit different than you think he will be?” he asked, finally giving voice to the thoughts that had reached their tendrils from the back of his mind and tickled the curiosity of his conscious thought.

     She spread her arms slightly, moving them back and forth in the water as if they were wings that would carry her through it. His eyes moved from her lips to the swelled curve of her breasts and then he looked away from her and took a deep breath, trying to refocus his mind.

     “He’ll be exactly what I think he should be or he won’t be my perfect guy. I’m not really asking for that much. He’d be a pretty decent man. That’s not out of the question. If he’s not a pretty decent man, then he doesn’t need to be with me.” She felt it was quite simple, and she genuinely didn’t think she was asking for too much. She knew what she wanted, and she wasn’t going to settle.

     Emmaline had a point, Peter thought. It just precluded him from being anywhere near the picture.

     He was quiet for a long while and then said, “Well, it’s getting late. We should go in for dinner. I’m sure they’ll have it served up for us pretty soon.” He swam back to the dock and she followed him. When they got to it, he turned for a moment to watch her swim to him, and when she reached him she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him, and then she kissed his cheek.

     “Thank you for taking me on this trip. I’ve never seen anything so incredible in my life as the things we’ve seen while we have been traveling. You didn’t have to do this. It’s not a real honeymoon, but you made it almost as good as one anyway. I appreciate that.” Her voice was soft in his ear and her breath caressed his skin. He slid his arms around her and pulled her to him to hug her back and as he held her there in the water, their skin touching the full length of each other’s bodies for the first time. He felt a force of desire go through him that he had never known and it stopped him completely. He did not breathe and he did not move, because he knew if he did, he would not have the will to hold his desire back, and his need for her would cause him more problems than he had ever known.

     Emmaline felt his body stiffen when she pulled herself to him in the embrace, and though his arms went around her and he held her to him, he seemed to freeze where he was, half of his body pressed against hers, their arms around each other and his face turned away over her shoulder. She realized that he must feel extraordinarily awkward having her so close when they were supposed to be business associates. She had thought that after their wedding, after the powerful kiss he had shared with her when they spoke their vows that some of the walls between them had come down, but that was apparently not the case. He could not have been less receptive of her friendly affection to him and it was a sharp reminder to her that she needed to keep her distance from him, no matter how comfortable he made her feel, and no matter how amiable he had been with her.

     She let go of him and backed away, putting a distance of a few feet between them, and he breathed out slowly and then turned from her and climbed out of the water onto the deck. He reached behind him to help her out, and she waved his hand away.

     “That’s alright; I can get it on my own. Thanks, though,” she said, trying to right the faux pas she had obviously made with him and give him the space he clearly wanted.

     Peter knew that he had gone too far with her when she wouldn’t let him help her out of the water, and he forced a light smile and replied airily, “Okay, well I will see you inside for dinner then.”

     They ate their meal with only some light banter shared between the two of them, and afterward, they both retired to their separate rooms, each one of them pushing the other from their minds.

     There were moments during their trip when they seemed to be able to be friends, and there were moments when the air between them was filled with awkward tension. Emmaline thought it was the growing pains of getting to know someone who had suddenly become a permanent part of her life, while Peter chalked it up to having to control his lust for her. He had never been turned down by any woman; they had always come to him in constant waves, and he had never found himself without one wanting him, and he had never had to be alone with just one that he couldn’t have. It was very frustrating for him.

     There were women who flirted with him in places where they saw people as they went along their trip, but Emmaline either didn’t notice or she didn’t care, and that frustrated Peter. He knew full well that it shouldn’t bother him that she didn’t want him, and especially that she hadn’t paid any attention to the subtle flirting of other women along the way, but all of it began to wear on him tremendously. It was tiring for him to be friends with her and want her, but not be able to have her, and then to not have other women as well.

     By the time their trip ended and they returned to the house, he was feeling petulant and irritable, and Emmaline ignored it and stayed in her room and in areas of the house that he did not frequent.

     It was when she had embraced him in the spring pool and he had frozen stiff in her arms that she realized how opposed he was to being close to her, and after that, she made it a priority to give him space and turn a blind eye when other women were affectionate and attentive toward him while they were traveling. That one moment, and a few other awkward moments after it, had shown her quite plainly that he meant for them to have a business relationship and a friendly acquaintance, and that would be as far as their friendship would grow.

     She had begun to wonder if they were going to become good friends, but then it occurred to her that the weeks leading up to her wedding were filled with social dates because they needed to convince the public that he was through with his playboy days and had settled down into a respectable lifestyle. She understood that she had begun to believe their public façade after all the lunches and dinners out, the movies, the live theatre shows, the concerts, the strolls through the French Quarter, and the boat rides and carriage rides; all of it had only been for show, and it was hard to compartmentalize that into a part of her life where she didn’t allow real emotion. It was difficult to remember that everything he did was part of the story they were feeding others. She had decided to keep to herself at the house and give him the space that he had shown her he needed.

     In the days that followed the trip, she began to miss being around him a bit, and she decided that it was because she had no company but her own at the house, and that in order to fill that void, she would should join some social groups in the city as his wife so that she could spend her time doing good works in his name.

     Emmaline was dressed in a thin summer dress one afternoon and was headed out of the door to go to a meeting with one of the groups, when Peter happened to see her in the foyer and stopped her.

     “Well hello, stranger!” he smiled at her. He walked up to her and couldn’t decide how to greet her, so he settled on a light hug. “I haven’t seen you much lately. I was wondering if we could have dinner tonight,” he asked, his heart beginning to pound. He tried to keep his eyes in contact with hers, but the temptation was too strong to resist and as she glanced away for a moment, he let his eyes slide down the curves of her body. He could see the outline of her form through the light material of the dress as the sunlight from the front windows silhouetted her. It made him catch his breath and he turned and looked away from her.

     Emmaline looked down to check her phone to see what time the meeting ended and when she looked back up, his head was turned and his gaze was on something else. He didn’t look back at her right away when she began to speak, and she knew that he must have only asked her about dinner to be polite. She thought she would give him an easy out so that he wouldn’t feel obligated to spend time with her.

     “Oh, I wish I could. I have a meeting in the city and I’m not sure how long it will run. Please go on ahead without me. Thank you, though,” she replied with a smile.

     A brush off. She had given him another brush off. He felt like it was all that she was doing since they came back from the trip. The frustration in him began to bubble to the surface and he stalked into the bar near the drawing room and poured himself a shot of whiskey. By the time he had finished his third shot, he had begun to convince himself that he was doing just fine without any affection or attention from her, and that he didn’t need it at all anyway. He called up a couple of the girlfriends that he used to see from time to time and had his limousine go pick them up and bring them to the house. By the time they got there, he was buzzing and happy on the surface and bubbling with resentment deep underneath. He decided to throw a party for the three of them. He decided he’d show her that he didn’t need her.

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