Everything inside of him that had been tense began to soften and give way. He felt her sorrow and anxiousness, her pain and worry. He knew that her heart was breaking at the thought of him leaving their home and departing from the family. All of the strength and love inside of him that he had for his twin sister welled up and choked him. He couldn’t stand to see her in such a state of pain and worry.
“Ah Kami.” He sighed heavily and frowned. “You’re the most important person in the world to me, too. You know that. I just can’t stay here and live under his thumb. I’m not going to change who I am, not for him, not for anyone. This is me, and he is part of the reason that I’m like this. He made me this way and you know it.”
She shook her head and threw her arms around his neck, openly weeping into his chest as sobs began to shake her small body. “You can’t! You can’t leave me here! I’ll do anything to help you, only please just listen to him and stay! Find a way to stay!” She sobbed harder and he held her close and rested his cheek upon the top of her head, pressing his lips together into a thin line as he stared off into the space behind her.
There was no one in the world who could have made him do what they wanted, no one who could bend his will or change his mind, except her. There never had been, except their mother, and their mother had been dead a long while. Camille looked like their mother. Her voice sounded almost like their mother’s voice, and her mannerisms and ways were the same. It often touched his heart that they could not have been more similar as mother and daughter, and nothing else reached as far into him as either one of them did. Since their mother had died, Camille was the only person in the world who had profound influence over him, and she almost never used it.
Her pleas to him to stay and to listen to their father were a rare request from her. He didn’t feel that he could say no to her, because if he did, he would be letting down the one person who meant the most to him in the world, and he just couldn’t do that. Not even for his own selfish anger and desire. Not even if it meant he’d have to give in to his father’s ridiculous demands.
With another heavy sigh, he leaned back and reached up to lift her chin so he could look into her eyes. They were awash with tears and her face was a reflection of her broken heart. “Okay, little one. Okay. I’ll… I’ll figure something out. I’ll find a way to make it work. I won’t leave you.” He relented, and dejected about it though he was, he just couldn’t tell her no.
“Really? You will? Oh Ryder, that would mean everything to me.” She whispered and sniffed lightly, blinking in relief.
“I will. I can’t let anything come between us, especially father. I’ll never let anything come between us. I promise. You’re my best, forever.” He managed a small smile for her and she gave one back to him.
“You’re my best forever too. Thank you, Ryder. It means everything to me. Thank you so much.” She hugged him tightly once more and he bent and kissed the top of her head.
She let him go and walked over to the table, looking down only long enough to scoop up the newspapers piled there. She wadded them up unceremoniously into a disarrayed roll and stepped over to the recycling bin in the cupboard. With one movement, she dumped them all into it, brushed her hands together for a moment, and closed the cupboard, walking out with a sweet smile over her shoulder to her brother.
He watched her go and thanked everything in heaven for her. She never judged him. She never thought poorly of him. She never let him down or turned away from him. It was her devotion and dedication to him and to their bond that formed a need in him to never let her down either, and to always be there for her, should she need him. He was more grateful to have her in his life than he was anyone else.
That acquiescence to her pleading request left him with one problem. His father was only going to let him stay in the family if he got married and settled down within three months. Frowning in frustration, he slid his hands into his pockets and peered out of the window that overlooked the ocean beyond the beach outside. He was going to have to come up with something. Some middle ground between what his father was demanding, what he wanted, and staying true to his promise to Camille. He had no idea how he was going to do it, but he knew that he had to try to find something.
He walked out of the back door of the kitchen and headed down the grassy hill toward the beach and the sea. When he reached the line where the manicured lawn gave way to sand dunes dressed in scattered plumes of slender dancing grasses, he slipped his shoes off and left them beside a wooden post.
Ryder looked down at the sand before his feet and stepped into it, sinking a little as the grains shifted beneath his weight. The wind blew over the waves that curled in toward him, wrapping coolly around him, passing over him, tugging at his clothes and his hair, filling his lungs with salted release. His problems were anchored in the back of his mind, but the rush of the wind in his ears drowned out his thoughts, giving him a peaceful reprieve, even if only for the time that he stood in its path.
He took a deep breath and slid his hands into his pockets. As he exhaled, he began to walk, one foot in front of the other, turning to one side and strolling along the edge of the surf that washed in, going on and on, step by step, leaving the Carrington house and his father and his worries behind him. He walked so long that the wind-swept time away too, right along with everything that plagued him.
There was nothing but him, and the waves of the sea, and the wind, and each step before him, one at a time. If the answer to his troubles would not come to him on its own, he would find it. Not for himself, but for his sister. He might be a reckless wildcard with no regard for any rules but his own, but he was a man of his word, and he had promised her.
It was a promise he would find a way to keep.
Chapter3
When night fell over the eastern coast, Ryder was sitting in the study off of his den. His mind had been a tangle of dead end schemes that did nothing but fail him in his every attempt to come up with a plan that might work to appease his father’s unreasonable request.
Reaching a summit of frustration, he pulled out his cell phone and swiped his finger across the screen, dialing one of the most frequently called phone numbers on it. It rang a few times, and was answered by a man the same age as Ryder.
“Hey buddy, how are you?” he asked in a pleasant voice.
“I’m in dire need of a drink, or several.” Ryder answered morosely. “How do you feel about going out tonight, Taylor?”
“Yeah, that sounds good.” His best friend answered. “Meet you at Sal’s?”
“The strip club?” he laughed. “Actually, that’s perfect. I could stand to be distracted for a while. I’ll meet you there in an hour.”
“See you then,” Taylor replied, and Ryder could hear the light smile in his voice.
A night out with his best friend was exactly what he needed to steady his nerves and forget his problems for a few hours. He dressed in a blazer, button up shirt and jeans. He ran his fingers through his slightly tousled hair and finger combed it just a bit. It was just enough to make him look a shade rough around the edges and devil may care.
An hour later he parked his cherry red Ferrari in the parking lot at Sal’s, and glanced around looking at the other cars. He noted that Taylor’s jeep was there. His friend was already waiting for him. He smiled and walked through the doors.
Taylor was sitting at a table alone, a tumbler of whiskey before him. He nodded at Ryder, and Ryder walked over and sat in the chair opposite him. At the other end of the room was a contemporary stage, and on it were three chrome dancing poles, around which three women danced in nothing more than the hint of a G-string; their bodies twisting and turning, their hair flying, suggesting eroticism with every nuance of their beings.
Ryder sighed heavily and Taylor leaned forward and rested his arms on the table, wrapping his hands around his drink. “You want to talk about it?”
“Not without a stiff drink.” Ryder answered. He flagged down the cocktail waitress and she c
ame over to their table. “Bring me a double bourbon.” He requested, eyeing her lustfully. She had wavy red hair that hung to her breasts, curled and styled carefully. Her makeup was perfect, enhancing her brown eyes, full lips and high cheekbones. Her sculpted body was barely covered in a black leather mini skirt and a brief red leather tank top.
He let his eyes travel slowly over her, drinking her in as she stood before him. When he finally met her eyes, she nodded. “One double bourbon coming up.”
“No ice, I like it warm.” He gave her a half smile.
She gave him another nod and turned, walking away with a sway to her hips that held his attention for a long moment before he finally turned and looked at Taylor.
“I might have stepped over a moral boundary last night.” He began quietly, looking down at the table between them.
“Stepped over? I saw the papers today.” Taylor said without looking up at Ryder.
“Okay, perhaps I went blasting over it like a rocket shooting past earth’s gravitational pull.” Ryder corrected himself, rolling his eyes.
“You could say that.” Taylor gave his friend a sympathetic look. “Was she worth it?” he asked, looking hopefully optimistic.
Ryder shook his head. “Not even close. If we hadn’t been caught, then yeah, she would have been worth the good time. The sex was good, not life changing or earth shattering, but it was good. Getting caught though…” He trailed off and sighed, “that was life changing.”
Taylor tilted his head somewhat. “I bet. I’m sure you heard about it from more than one person. That’s a hell of a price to pay for a quickie with a married woman. I’d hate to have my picture in all the papers and become the city gossip hot topic.”
“Oh, you know I don’t care what people think. It’s not that at all. I’ve never cared what people think. It was my father.” Ryder frowned slightly and picked up his glass of bourbon, taking a long pull off of it.
“You don’t care what your father thinks, either.” Taylor stated pointedly.
Ryder smirked and gave his head a shake. “Normally, no. I don’t care. This time… well, this time it kind of came back to bite me in the ass.”
Taylor furrowed his brow in confusion. “How so? We’ve been best friends since high school. Since when do you care what your dad thinks?”
With a heavy sigh, Ryder looked over at him. “Since he threatened to disinherit me, disown me, and evict me from the family and the house this morning.”
Taylor’s jaw fell full open. “What?” he blanched.
“Yeah. He was serious.”
“Holy crap.” Taylor stared at him, unmoving. He didn’t speak for a moment, but when he finally found his voice, it was quieter. “What are you going to do?”
“Well, he gave me one out. One… opportunity, I guess, is what he would call it, to make this right and make a change. He said I can get married and settle down with a wife and change my errant ways, or I can get out permanently. Those are my options.” Ryder wished he could laugh about it, but there was nothing funny in it at all. Ironic yes, he thought to himself, but not funny. It wasn’t even worth trying to find the hint of a smile.
Taylor stared at him. “Married? Has he met you?”
A sarcastic scoff escaped Ryder. “Yeah, I think that’s why he’s pushing it. It’s the most extreme he could get, one way or the other, trying to force me to take up his agenda or get the hell out. We had it out this morning. I told him what I think, I told him how much I don’t care, and he wouldn’t budge. That’s it.”
“Are you going to leave?” Taylor asked, immediately assuming the most realistic option.
Ryder took another long sip of his bourbon and leaned back in his chair, looking at the glass before him on the table. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I want to tell him to go to hell and just leave… just walk out of the door and never come back again, but Camille heard it all and came in to talk to me about it after Carter left.”
Taylor groaned and nodded. “Camille. Ouch.”
“Yeah.” Ryder raked his fingers through the tumble of black locks on his head. “My father can go to hell, but my sister… my sister begged and pleaded for me to stay around. I feel like I have to do it for her, and it would suck to lose a billion dollars and actually have to get a real job and work.”
Pursing his mouth thoughtfully for a moment, Taylor looked back over at him with a sliver of hope. “Well, let’s look at the options. What about some of the girls you date? Tiffany? Amy? Mandy?”
Ryder rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Oh hell no. They’re not good for anything more than a few hours in bed or the back seat of a car. I’d never make any of them my wife. Not in this lifetime or any other.”
Taylor waved at the hot redheaded cocktail waitress and ordered another round. He lifted his hand to his chin and rubbed the side of his finger of it in deep thought. “What if you got a fake wife?”
Blinking in confusion, Ryder looked up at him. “What if I what?”
“Got a fake wife.” Taylor answered as he mulled the crazy concept over in his mind a little more, leaning forward to the table as his idea picked up momentum. “You know, find someone to marry you and then once you get your inheritance, divorce her and send her on her way. Problem solved.” He looked as if the idea had taken hold in his mind, and as if it might be a fully viable option. His smile brightened and he looked enthusiastically over at his best friend.
Ryder burst out laughing and shook his head, looking down into his lap for a moment as he tossed the idea aside like the rubbish that it was. “You’re too much, Taylor. I don’t know where you come up with half of the crazy ass ideas you think of.”
Taylor looked harder at him. “I’m serious, Ryder. Think about this,” he rested his arms on the table and leaned closer, lowering his voice a little as he caught Ryder’s gaze and held it. “You find a girl, have her sign a pre-nup, and get married. Don’t tell your dad it’s not the real thing. Just act like it’s all legit and go for it. You would have a woman in your bed whenever you want her.”
Ryder shook his head and looked away as he emptied his glass of bourbon. “I have women in my bed anytime I want them now, and I’m not tied down to any of them.”
With a nod, Taylor acquiesced. “Yeah, but look at the whole picture. You would have her there anytime you want to have sex, you’ll get your inheritance, your father will shut up about it and leave you alone, and you can screw around on the side all you want, especially because you have a pre-nup. You get the best of all of it.”
Lowering one brow, Ryder gave him a half-serious look as the concept began to take form in his mind.
Taylor continued, lifting his hands as he expounded on his idea. “You just find the girl, tell her it’s a job, she agrees to the contract, you have her sign the pre-nup, it’s just business. No emotional ties, no hassles, it’s just business.”
“Huh.” Ryder tilted his head to the side a little, seriously contemplating what Taylor was selling him. “You know, that’s not a half bad idea.”
“Anyone would do. Even this hot little number right here.” Taylor grinned, looking up at the redheaded cocktail waitress as she handed their drinks to them.
Ryder actually looked at her for the first time then, taking her in as he considered what his best friend was telling him. She was easily one of the sexiest, most beautiful women he had ever seen. Her shoulder length red hair curled around her shoulders and her breasts, her full hips giving her an hourglass shape. Her legs were long and shapely, made longer by the high heels that she was wearing.
Her eyes were as blue as the sea and the sky where they meet at the horizon. She had high cheekbones, full red lips and looked like a pin-up girl from the forties who happened to step off of a poster into real life.
She gave both of them their drinks and a pleasant smile. Ryder let his gaze wander up her figure slowly, devouring her with his mind as he went. She did look completely delicious to him. He felt himself harden at the groin as he took
her in.
As she walked away from them, he watched her go, eyeing the sway of her curved hips and appreciating the view. He lifted his bourbon to his lips and drank. Setting the glass down, he finally took his eyes off the woman and looked back over at Taylor.
“I wouldn’t mind having her waiting in my bed every night, but it would piss my father off to no end if I married a cocktail waitress.” He gave a slight shrug of his shoulders and set his bourbon down on the table.
Taylor looked at him pointedly. “Exactly.”
The Billionaire's Secretly Fake Bride (MANHATTAN BACHELORS Book 3) Page 3