The Mail Order Billionaire (DC Billionaires Book 3)

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The Mail Order Billionaire (DC Billionaires Book 3) Page 9

by Eliza Ellis


  He casually closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Can I kiss you?” he asked in a husky voice.

  Tongue unwilling to work, Deanna simply nodded.

  His lips touched hers briefly, as though waiting for her rejection. Deanna stood on her toes and kissed him back. He growled with need, pulling her hard against him. Desire shot down from her heart into her belly. Deanna wrapped her arms around his torso, squeezing in as close as her balloon dress would allow.

  Large hands rose up her exposed back, their warmth causing her to shiver as sensitive nerve endings erupted. Those hands traveled the length of her sides and around her waist to the spot where her zipper securely fastened her dress. She heard the telltale sound of the teeth unhooking and jumped back. Swiping his hands away, she zipped herself back up. “Maxim!”

  His intense eyes were pinned to hers. “It’s in my way.”

  “We have to go to dinner soon.”

  He groaned, rolled his eyes, and let out a resigned sigh. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

  She opened her mouth to protest that she didn’t wish it entirely, but she didn’t want to give him a reason to skip dinner, no matter how tempting.

  “But just so you know”—he removed his jacket—“I’m more than willing to eat dinner in bed.”

  Of that she was sure.

  Chapter 13

  She had escaped his attempt to convince her that staying in bed was the best choice, and now Maxim and Deanna were thrust into a formal dinner that would likely last the rest of the evening.

  Hours.

  And hours.

  Of not-so-subtle hints and gestures that the two of them had done the country of Degonia a complete disservice. A betrayal of the people and the Crown. That the monarchy was doomed. Deanna would never measure up to Leonor.

  The introductions had gone well. Deanna held her own with Maxim providing all the necessary details for her to make conversation. If she was nervous, her expression gave nothing away. Admiration for his bride of less than twenty-four hours had doubled by the time they sat down to the first course.

  Her assistant had given her a crash course on etiquette at the dinner table. Deanna picked up her first piece of gold silverware as though she was born with it in her mouth. She’d been determined to prove herself a worthy partner for the second-born Prince of Degonia, and so far, she had succeeded.

  At least, in Maxim’s view.

  Neither Novak nor Jelena could fault her mannerisms or protocol. Deanna hadn’t slipped up once. But the question of her suitability was where they had Maxim.

  She wasn’t Leonor. End of discussion.

  Thankfully, Leonor had chosen not to attend the dinner, though her father Velin was there. Word had spread all over Degonia that Prince Maxim had returned with a bride—an American without any sort of celebrity status. Their televised arrival played on news stations over and over and was already front-page news in evening paper editions. People would talk about the jilted princess and wonder what had possessed Maxim to marry a psychologist and mathematician who matched people on reality television for a living. He was convinced that as soon as they met her, she’d prove her respectability.

  At least they had tonight before being thrown to the wolves tomorrow for their first stop on a short press tour. Novak couldn’t let them have a few days for Deanna to adjust to Degonia? Maxim blamed himself for her trial by fire. He’d messed up by marrying the wrong woman, and she would suffer the consequences.

  Well, he wouldn’t let them harm her. She looked so lovely this evening, her smile warm and her attitude positive after their cold reception. She’d clung to him desperately in their closet, and he wasn’t going to disappoint her. This one was a good woman.

  “I find it interesting, Maxim, that you return to your country at this time.” Velin’s sharp eyes landed on Deanna. “And with this…”

  “Dr. Pearson.”

  “Countess Deanna.”

  Both Deanna and Maxim stated at the same time.

  “She’s not a countess yet,” Jelena said calmly. She took a sip of her drink before showing a feline smile. “A title hasn’t been bestowed by His Royal Highness.”

  Maxim put down his salad fork and rubbed at the imprint left in his palm. From beneath the table, Deanna clutched his hand. Although she wasn’t supposed to sit next to him, Maxim had insisted and Novak had obliged.

  Velin’s thin lips smiled triumphantly. “As I was saying, I find it interesting.”

  “How so, Your Highness?” Maxim snapped.

  “Do I have to explain it to you?”

  “Please do.”

  He snorted. “You know of the expectations of myself and your king. And your marriage to this…reality television host”—he waved a dismissive hand in Deanna’s direction—“is an affront to all of us, including your own people.”

  Maxim’s chest tightened. Before going off, he looked to Novak for his take. Like a spectator, the king drank and continued eating, watching with interest. Along with his chest, Maxim’s gut hardened. He looked down at his plate of food, no longer interested in eating. He counted to five, lifted his head, and spoke, “I think my people would want me to be happy.” He smiled at Deanna. “I’ve found that happiness.”

  She genuinely returned his smile, and his heart swelled. It was sort of true; so far, he was happy with his decision to marry a woman he didn’t know. He trusted her program—still waited for the results—and Deanna was completely different than Leonor. Marrying the woman the monarchy wanted meant losing part of his identity. Maxim didn’t want to conform any more than he already had. He wasn’t a puppet and had his own mind.

  His mother had taught him well.

  “Being a royal has nothing to do with happiness,” Jelena snapped. “Who is this”—she pointed to Deanna—“Dr. Pearson? What could she possibly bring to the monarchy? Nothing. She doesn’t know our customs or our ways, nor does she have our interests in mind.”

  “I beg your—”

  Maxim tightly squeezed her thigh, and Deanna went mute.

  “Yes, Dr. Pearson?” Jelena taunted. “I believe you were interrupting me.”

  “She was not,” Maxim defended in a hard tone. “Please, finish.”

  Jelena casually cut her steak. “You’ve gone back on your word not only to Leonor but to Velin!”

  Maxim laughed harshly. “I never promised Leonor anything. She knows that.”

  Jelena slammed her fists on the table. “It was decided long before today! When she was born. It doesn’t matter if you said the words or not, she was your betrothed. You’ve broken faith with her, and you need to rectify it.”

  “Jelena,” Novak said in a soft, warning tone.

  She raised her chin and averted her gaze from Maxim and Deanna.

  Maxim stiffly smiled. “And just what do you expect me to do about it? Because I’m already married. Deanna and I have been discussing how to best fulfill our roles in the monarchy, including charities we’d like to start—”

  “And how do you plan to start them?” Velin asked. “With what money?”

  “Ours.” Deanna’s voice came out like a hammer.

  “I have billions of dollars, Velin. Enough to help stimulate the economy. We can fund our own charities to start, and with our professional connections across the globe, we can make a real impact.”

  Velin laughed. “Do you expect us to believe that you’ve spent the last couple of years in America trying to earn money to save your country? That the gossip rags aren’t to be believed?”

  Maxim seethed. “Better the salvation of my people comes from my own hand and not from a foreigner.”

  “That will all have to be discussed,” Novak said. “Nothing has been decided, including my acceptance of your marriage.”

  Maxim felt Deanna’s gaze burn into the side of his face. He didn’t know what to say to his brother. Not accept his marriage?

  It was the law to get the king’s permission to marry. Technical
ly, Maxim had broken the law, but what of it? It was done. Degonia had no jurisdiction to undo it. The worst that could happen would be the stripping of his title as prince. Novak wouldn’t dare. The country was desperate for Maxim’s money. Although Maxim wouldn’t deny his people aid even if he were no longer prince, Novak didn’t know that for certain.

  That was the only leverage Maxim had left.

  Maxim took Deanna’s hand in his and stood. “I request your permission to retire, my lord.”

  Novak silently nodded.

  Maxim and Deanna stormed out of the room.

  Chapter 14

  Maxim practically kicked the doors open to the room. He hadn’t said a word since leaving the dinner table, and now he was shooting off a mile a minute, stringing in choice profane words for the entire monarchy.

  “You knew this would happen,” Deanna gently chided. She watched from her seat on the bed as Maxim paced the room like a restless young lion ready to tear the guts out of anyone seated at that table that would challenge his right to his own pride.

  “Sure, I did. But to not accept the marriage?”

  “You think it’s a threat or…”

  Maxim wildly shook his head. “Has to be a threat. He knows the money I bring in could change everything.”

  If that were the case, then why the threat? Deanna rubbed her cold hands together, even though the room was toasty due to fresh logs in their fireplace.

  Maxim had stopped his pacing and stared out one of the windows into the inky black night. From her vantage point, she could see the off-white orbs of the castle lights. They were so far away from D.C. There her life was simple. She had a business, friends, a popular guest spot on a television show. Here in Degonia, they were disappointments. Maxim’s family didn’t even know her. Couldn’t they prove themselves?

  “You said we have the people on our side, right?” Deanna left her spot and walked to Maxim. She rubbed his back. “You’re popular here.”

  He snorted. “For a reason altogether dishonorable.”

  She smiled at him. What would Grace say in this situation? “But you’re no longer that man, correct? Now comes the fairy tale.” That’s exactly what her friend would say. The fairy tale. A wayward prince marries a commoner, and they find love happily ever after.

  He wrapped an arm around her waist. “Fairy tale, huh?”

  He smiled, but Deanna heard no humor in his voice. “Well, maybe the Degonians will see it that way.”

  “Let’s hope so.” He kissed the top of her head and walked away from the window. “I’m waiting on my assistant to give me the latest poll research on the popularity of the monarchy.”

  “Can you really use it as leverage? If we’re popular, then…he can’t refuse his consent?”

  “I wish.” Maxim collapsed backward onto the bed. He stared at the ceiling. “I’ve been trying to think of ways we can make a success of this.”

  “We’ve barely started.” She moved from the window to the fireplace and held her hands out for the heat.

  “Cold?”

  “Not really. I’ve always liked—”

  “Fire? Are you a closet pyro?”

  She chuckled. “No.” She thought of the first time she sat at a campfire. The memory came so clear to her mind. “My parents have always been doctors, traveling the world, helping those in the greatest need, since before I was born. I remember being on a trip with them once, when I was four or five, and we were all gathered around the fire.”

  “Where were you?”

  “Africa. I can’t remember which country.”

  “Wow. That must’ve been incredible.”

  The sounds of the jungle had scared her, the large cats coming out to eat. “Actually, we heard hyenas and the lions roaring. I was terrified.” Deanna sat on the rug in front of the fireplace. Her body warmed, and she felt calmer than she had at dinner.

  Maxim rolled over onto one side and propped his head in his hand. He watched her with interest. “Is that what made you decide not to be a medical doctor?”

  She laughed. “One of the reasons, yes. I guess I’ve never been a country girl and definitely not a jungle one.”

  “You seemed right at home in your office in D.C.”

  “I was. I was home.” She nodded.

  “And it’s my fault for taking you away,” he said grimly.

  She smiled at him. “Don’t blame yourself. I was the one with the big mouth. Having to prove myself on national television.” Her eyes returned to the fire. She could see the natives of that night dancing around the fire, praying to their gods for safety from the animals. “I think I’ve always been trying to prove myself,” she whispered. “My parents were disappointed when I told them I wasn’t going into medicine. I kept telling them that my work was just as important.”

  “But they don’t see it that way because they’re helping the less fortunate.”

  Deanna blinked back tears of frustration. “Exactly. What I wanted to do doesn’t help a soul. They were giving life-saving care to people who couldn’t afford it nor had any clue it even existed. I was supposed to join them. Travel the world with them.”

  “But you’re still a doctor. You’re helping people—”

  “Get married?” she said with a snort. “Please. My parents don’t think that’s worthy of the degree and the time I’ve spent in school. They refuse to watch my show, or look at the data I’ve collected, or read the articles I’ve written for journals.”

  “I’ve read them.”

  Deanna’s head snapped to her husband. He had read her articles? When? How did he even know about them? “You…you did?”

  He shrugged. “Well, I’ve read a couple of them. The most recent ones, in the time that I’ve had.” He sat up with a wicked grin. “I do my research when I’m thinking about doing a business deal.”

  Deanna rolled her eyes. He still thought of this as a deal. She… Where exactly did she stand? She bit her lip and stared into the hot flames. She wasn’t sure. For now, she could only stand beside Maxim. “Thank you for reading them,” she said after a few moments of silence. Her gaze met his. “It does mean a lot to me.” Especially without the support of her family.

  “Have you heard from your parents? Since we married?” Maxim asked with a long yawn. He blinked a few times and forced his eyes open wider.

  Deanna yawned in return, and Maxim gave an apologetic smile. She shook her head. “Nothing. They’re somewhere down in South America. We spoke a few weeks ago. I doubt they’ll emerge from the jungle for a few more days. Even weeks.”

  “And they’ll probably hate the idea as much as my brother does.”

  “Probably more.”

  Maxim slid off the bed and joined her on the rug. “Look, I know I can’t be a substitute for your parents.” He laughed, seeing her scrunched-up face. “And I’d rather you think of me as the guy in the hot tub.” Her annoyed expression brought additional chortles. He cupped the side of her face. “But I promise, as your husband, to always be on your side. To give you the support and encouragement you need to pursue whatever it is that makes you happy.”

  Her chest and throat tightened as emotion filled them. She blinked at the burning sensation at the back of her eyes. Who was this man? On paper, he was someone she couldn’t ever have pictured herself with.

  But sitting in front of him, she saw another man. His dark eyes roamed her face, hinting of desire. Her cheek molded to his hand while her gaze focused on his cute, full bottom lip. Sensing her growing need, he leaned over and gently captured her lips.

  Molten heat stole from her belly and pooled in her head, causing headiness that made her dizzy. He suckled on her bottom lip, teasing her with nips. Her hands cupped his face, pulling him closer. She fell back against the rug, the weight of him pressing against her legs, her waist, her chest.

  His lips found the tender spot behind her ear. He grazed it with his teeth, shocking her senses and causing Deanna to arch up into him. Her frenzied heart thrummed in her ears,
her breath coming in quick, short gasps. “Maxim…”

  He grunted and pulled her to her feet before swinging her up into his arms. His lips met hers in a tender kiss as he carried her to the bed. She felt herself melting on the inside, all reason and arguments against consummating their marriage forgotten. He laid her on the bed and used his body as a cover. His lips trailed down her chin and around her neck and stopped.

  His weight grew heavier on her, his breathing slow. “Maxim?”

  He groaned and shifted, half falling off her. Deanna covered her mouth before the gasp escaped.

  Chapter 15

  She hadn’t protested.

  He’d heard the urgency—the pleading in her voice as she’d whispered his name in his ear. He had wanted to hear her scream it.

  Maxim didn’t even remember making it to the bed. He must have because he woke up on his stomach, one arm draped over the side.

  And his wife? Not in bed with him.

  No chance she could’ve dragged him there herself. He weighed a good two thirty. So he must’ve gotten there on his own. When had he fallen asleep? What’s more, how in the world did it happen? He’d never been too tired. What Deanna must be thinking…

  Well, if his playboy reputation just died, then it was a good thing.

  Maxim groaned and allowed the hot shower water to drain over his head and down his body. Deanna must’ve had an early start. He wasn’t entirely sure about her schedule, only that they were to leave for their first official outing around ten o’clock. A two-hour drive north to a small village to have lunch with the governing body and then a tour of the countryside followed by dinner at a farming estate.

  Maxim had chosen this place to visit first in order to convince his brother that he and Deanna could respectfully and successfully represent the monarchy. That, and Maxim had some contacts in the American farming industry that he believed could benefit the people in the northern area of the country where most of the farming occurred. Novak hadn’t agreed to this outing—but if he had cancelled at the last minute, he would’ve appeared to be cold and anti-farming.

 

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