A Bride for a Billionaire

by Lauren Hawkeye

  Within seconds the long black overcoat is on the floor. Emilia stands in the doorway, and she has my attention.

  As teenagers, we explored more than was healthy, given our relationship. And the attraction never faded, no matter how superficial is was.

  But never did I think I would see her in front of me like this. A scrap of black lace covers her mound, a trio of elastics emphasizing her coltish hips on each side. It hides nothing. Her legs, impossibly long and slender, are displayed in spike heeled leather boots that extend all the way to mid-thigh.

  But my attention is caught by her breasts. I’ve felt them before, in secret, in the dark. But she is wearing a black lace... I don’t even know what to call it. It looks like a bra, a bit—it is black and lacy and fits the way a bra would. But rather than covering her breasts, holding them close, the garment offers them up like they are sitting on a shelf.

  It leaves nothing to the imagination, and I’ve imagined those small brown nipples, those creamy globes plenty.

  I’m already aroused by the woman in one of my spare bedrooms.

  Emilia’s tits make my already hard cock press painfully against the front of my slacks, begging for relief.

  “No more skirting around it, Matteo.” She drops to her knees in front of me, her eyes fixed on mine. Warning bells clang in my head—Emilia Guerra does not kneel—but then she takes my belt in hand, and my attention is drawn elsewhere.

  “What are you doing?” My voice is rough, harsh, and she seems to like it, looking up at me and licking her lips.

  “I’m offering you what we’ve both wanted since your father starting fucking my mother.” She smiles up at me, that seductive half smile that I’ve seen her use on so very many people, both men and women.

  “You can have me, Matteo. Any way you want to.” Eyes on me, she starts to pull my belt through the loop. My pulse accelerates. And my cock hardens to the point of pain

  She’s right—we’ve being dancing around this since we were young teenagers. Part of me feels like it’s inevitable. And today has me so confused, so fucked in the head—and the whisper of her fingers over the front of my pants feels so damn good—that I seriously consider it.

  What man wouldn’t? And no matter the steely resolve forged in me by the sadistic man that I called father, no matter that I know well that I can’t trust this woman for an instant...

  I feel myself caving. I want to grab her by the back of the head and thrust past her lips. Want to press her against the wall and take what I need.

  Maybe if I do, I’ll have a clear head when I ask Riley for her answer.

  I feel my fingers fisting in Emilia’s silky hair, smell her perfume wafting up to my nose. It’s expensive, I’m sure, and overly sweet... cloying.

  It makes it hard for me to inhale. And that might not have been so noticeable, if I hadn’t just met Riley, whose presence seems to make it easier for me to breathe.

  “No.” My fingers clench, pulling Emilia’s hair, and she hisses. Disentangling myself, I step back, putting space between us.

  Her eyes spark dangerously.

  “What do you mean, no?”Sliding forward on her knees, she reaches for me, and this time it is easier not to succumb to temptation.

  “What’s going on, Emilia?’ It’s still hard to think, with those tits offered up on a black lace platter. But as I look down at my stepsister, I can see the rage distort her otherwise beautiful features, and the realization pumps clarity into my blood.

  Emilia offers nothing without expecting something in return.

  She meets my challenge with a slight nod of acknowledgement and stands. This makes those breasts sway enticingly, which makes my cock get even harder, but I haven’t let my second head do all of the thinking for quite a few years.

  “Well?” Lifting my snifter, I again sip. The burn of the scotch sears my throat, helps pull me from the cloud of raw animal lust.

  Emilia closes the space between us, her fingers reaching again for my belt buckle. This time I don’t pull away, but cover her hand with mine, stopping her movement.

  I’m close enough that I can see the irritation again distort her face, but it’s gone within seconds as she teasingly brushes her lips over my own, then moves in for the kill.

  She kisses me, hot and hard, her tongue pressing against the seam of my lips. I’m not easily shocked, but for the second time in as many minutes she manages it.

  Heaven help me, it takes everything I have to pull away. She’s a warm, willing female, and I’m not used to denying myself. But this just isn’t right.

  “Emilia. Stop.” For the first time in memory, I use a gentle, if still firm, tone, grabbing her upper arms in my hands and pushing her away. “Just tell me. What is going on?”

  I can see the calculation, displayed over her features. But she deliberately tries to hide it behind that seductive curve of her lips.

  “Fine then. Business first.” Before I can stop her, her fingers brush over my cock, and I groan before jerking back.

  “I think we should get married.” Her lips are on the curve of my neck as her words hit me, and I’m not sure I’ve heard her correctly.

  “What?” Everywhere I move, she moves with me, rubbing that long, sleek body against me. Offering herself to me in ways that I’ve only dreamt of.

  Even as I want to turn her to face the wall, to push between those spread thighs, I find that I’m growing irritated, and disgusted. And then when she repeats herself, shocked.

  I shove at her shoulders, and this time I’m not so gentle.

  “You are out of your fucking mind.” Nothing this woman does should ever surprise me, but...

  What?

  “It makes perfect sense. Think about it, Matteo.” She rubs against me again, and now I just want to shove her out the door and tell her to stop acting like a cheap whore. If she was seducing me because she genuinely wanted to, that would be different.

  But she is not.

  And am I asking Riley to have sex with me for something in return?

  I suppose I am, and an emotion that I can only barely recognize as shame works its way through me at the realization... it’s not something I’m used to feeling.

  I push it away. Double standard? Perhaps. But I never claimed to be a good man.

  “It makes no sense.” And yet... it does.

  “Matteo.” She fists her fingers in the collar of my shirt. “We’ve always cared for one another. Always wanted each other. If we married, neither of us would lose the company. We could both have it all.”

  Her words are logical, absolutely. And it would be a giant fuck you to my dear dead dad.

  But...

  “But then we would be sharing it.” I narrow my eyes, study the woman in front of me. She’s absolutely stunning, while the woman in the other room is fresh faced and possibly even a little bit plain.

  But beyond the fact that she has tits and an ass, something has changed today, and I don’t want her.

  I suspect that that something is named Riley Tremaine.

  And more...

  “You’re worried that you’ll lose.” I say slowly, and feel a deep satisfaction start flooding through my body when she startles, just the tiniest bit. “You wouldn’t be worried that I’d find a wife, because that’s easy enough. But you’re worried I’ll manage to stay faithful, because so much is at stake. And you can’t stand the idea that you’ll be left with nothing.”

  I watch the red of fury slowly stain Emilia’s cheeks. Well, this is interesting. I’ve managed to touch a nerve in the ice queen.

  “Why I’m doing this doesn’t matter, Matteo.” Stepping back so that I can see her full length, she cups her breasts, and damn it, my traitorous cock can’t help but swell. But by this point I would rather cut my own hands off than touch her with them.

  “What matters is that I’m right. Think how powerful we could be, you and I. No one would ever tell us what to do again.”

  I close my eyes, both against the image, and agains
t what her words conjure.

  The idea of freedom is a heady thing, but I know that I will never truly be free of Carmine.

  “Get out of here, Emilia.” Knowing that she won’t respond to anything else, I make my voice deliberately cruel. “You’ve embarrassed yourself enough.”

  “You’re the one who will be embarrassed, when I take everything I’m due and leave you with nothing!” Emilia’s remaining control snaps, and she releases her breasts, her hands curling into fists at her side. Her face flushes darker still, and I knew that if looks could kill, in that moment I would be six feet under.

  I’m not too pleased with her myself. “Everything you are due?”

  That bitch.

  She was always the favorite, the one treated well and shown favors. The one my father preferred, ever since she first joined our family.

  I, however...

  No, Matteo. It does no good to dredge up the memories that I have worked so hard to suppress.

  Carmine is gone now, and I won’t let him take up space in my head.

  “Leave.” When Emilia starts toward me again, I push her hands away as though I’m swatting a fly. If she doesn’t leave, I’ll have to haul her bodily out the door, but she’s now made me so angry with her flippant statement, that my cock no longer wants anything to do with her. “Leave, and I’ll never mention this delusional episode of yours again.”

  “You fucking bastard.” Emilia’s hand swings out, and just as I did with Riley not an hour ago, I catch it, stop the blow. She laughs, low in her throat, and I realize with a churning in my gut that she’s getting off on this.

  “I want to fuck!” She shrieks, and I wince, hoping that Riley—that the servants—can’t hear.

  What is going on? The Emilia I know would scheme like this, certainly, but she would be the picture of control.

  “I don’t.” Releasing her with disgust, I point to the door, and she hisses.

  “I’ll ruin you, Matteo.” Seeing that I’m not about to change my mind, she turns on the spike heel of her boot, stalks to her fallen coat. When she bends to pick it up, she does so slowly, making sure to give me a full view, even though her body is vibrating with rage. This tells me that she wants, more than anything, to entice me into her ridiculous offer.

  It’s not happening.

  “You can try,” I reply calmly. “But I wonder who the press would sympathize with more, a pampered Italian princess like you, or a man who went through what Carmine put me through.”

  Emilia laughs, the sound high and slightly hysterical. It’s not what I expected, and it makes me uneasy.

  “You have no idea what I did to earn this company,” she says finally, shaking her head. Her lips are curled into a smile, but there’s no hint of mirth. “No idea. But I’ve paid my dues. And so it will be mine. I won’t offer this again.”

  “Go!” Finally losing patience, I throw my snifter against the wall, as hard as I can. The glass explodes like fireworks, and my voice is a roar. But how dare, how dare she compare her pampered existence to my own? “Get the fuck out!”

  “You’ll regret this.” Her words drip with venom as she strides out the front door. She doesn’t bother putting her coat back over top of her non-outfit, and I wonder for a moment if Carmine’s death has somehow sent her over the edge—paparazzi follow us everywhere, and once one of my more... intimate... moments with a women were captured with a long range camera and splashed across the Italian tabloids.

  Nearly naked pictures of Emilia Guerra, stepdaughter of the late, great Carmine Benenati, would fetch a pretty penny, and reflect horribly on the company.

  In that moment, I don’t give a fuck. I just want her gone.

  “Bye, Matteo. Hope you’re ready to lose everything.” Finally outside, Emilia turns to look at me over her shoulders, smirking and wiggling her fingers in a wave. Her veneer of control is back, firmly in place as I slam the heavy wooden door shut behind her.

  My own control is sadly lacking. I slump back against the barrier, cold sweat spearing on my forehead.

  I’ve never seen that side of Emilia before, and it has thoroughly unnerved me. More than that...

  She has declared war. I won this battle, but she’ll strike again.

  I have to make sure I’m ready.

  Chapter Six

  RILEY

  “I NEED AN ANSWER NOW.”

  Startled, I whirl around, the long tangle of my hair whipping me in the face as I do. Matteo is standing just inside the doorway. At first glance, nothing is different from when he left twenty minutes ago... but when I take a moment and look harder, I can tell that something has changed.

  The man who left this room before was confident and in control. Now... well, he still looks that way, mostly. But there’s just the thinnest edge of something darker, something... desperate.

  “I need your answer now,” he repeats, slowly stalking his way toward me. I can feel my pulse accelerating, pounding just under the line of my jaw, as I note the clouds that have gathered in his eyes.

  I don’t think he’ll hurt me. It might be stupid to trust him, but really... if he’d wanted to, he’s had plenty of chances already. You know, like when I was unconscious.

  Still, right now he seems harder, wilder than the man who just kissed me senseless. And I don’t know him well enough to know what that means for me.

  “You said I could have until morning.” I hate that my voice is breathy, aroused. But damn it, I’ve never had the full attention of a man like him, never felt so... wanted.

  “Things have changed.” He stops just a bit less than an arms’ width away from me... just inside my personal space. When he reaches out to toy with a piece of my hair, I can’t stop the shiver that runs through me.

  I have no business wanting this man. I’m not stupid, it would be like a lamb and a lion. And I have no desire to be anyone’s dinner.

  And yet...

  “We both know what you’re going to say, anyway.” His voice is smug, and I pause, my lust rapidly cooling off in the face that tone. “You need the money.”

  Cocking his head, he studies me, his gaze lingering on the flush that still stains my cheeks. “Or maybe you just want the money. Maybe it’s something else that you really want.”

  Jackass. The word is on the tip of my tongue. Matteo is the most infuriating man I’ve ever met, and my palm itches to slap him one right across the face. Or maybe to knee him in the nutsack.

  And yet... that’s what he would expect me to do. I can see it on his face—to play the part of the reluctant female, or maybe to go in the other direction, to swoon and fall right into his arms.

  For reasons I don’t quite understand, I don’t want to be like all the other women, so I tamp my anger down, and try to think rationally.

  “You need me.” My voice is quiet, but the words seem to stop him in his tracks. Anger flickers over those gorgeous features, but again, it’s like I’m wearing special goggles that can see beneath.

  There’s a thread of vulnerability there that is just barely detectable.

  A sneer curves those lips that played over mine with such skill, and the expression is cruel.

  “You still don’t understand who I am, do you?” He spreads his arms wide, and I eye him warily, trepidation skittering over my skin. “I don’t need anything or anyone.”

  “You’re not making much of a case for yourself.” I don’t miss the hint of self-loathing that shows through his scorn. “I won’t give you a decision until morning.”

  “Didn’t you hear me?” He laughs, mockery a knife’s edge in the sound. “There are thousands of women all over the world who would jump at the chance to be my wife. Take the offer, Riley, before I change my mind.”

  That glint in his eyes makes my heart pound against my ribcage. I’m still certain that he won’t hurt me, but at the same time, I don’t like him very much in that moment.

  No, I don’t like him... but I still want him. Cause I’m crazy like that.

  “I’
m sure there are other women,” I say, keeping my voice as calm as I can make it, even though that storm in Matteo’s eyes makes my own pulse accelerate. “But for some reason you want me. And I will give you my answer in the morning.”

  I feel the insane urge to giggle when I see the shock on his face. But it’s a slightly hysterical feeling, because as the shock is replaced by anger, I become aware that I’ve just poked the sleeping bear.

  “What did you say to me?” His face registers total and complete disbelief. A tremor runs through me, because I can see his temper rising right before my eyes, but...

  I don’t want to be that girl.

  “You heard me.” I’m holding my breath, and it’s making me slightly dizzy, but I keep going anyway. “I just think that you’re not used to anyone making you wait.”

  A strangled sound emanates from Matteo’s throat, and I can feel a bead of cold sweat slowly slither down my spine. But I stand my ground, and don’t break eye contact.

  The muscles of his jaw twitch as he clenches it tightly shut. Then without another word, he turns on his heel and stalks from the room. He slams the door behind him, and the sound it makes is thunderous, echoing throughout the large bedroom.

  “Christ.” Adrenaline rockets through me and, suddenly breathing hard, I sink down to the floor, right where I’ve been standing. I feel sick.

  He has no idea why I’m at such odds over his proposal, if you can even call it that. I really do need the money, and as he ever so eloquently pointed out, there’s a definite attraction between us anyway.

  There really isn’t a choice. I’ve always sworn that I would never make the choices that my mother did. But now, penniless and desperate, I have a bit more understanding for what might have been going through her head.

  I might have to follow in her footsteps, just for a month... because that amount of money will ensure that I’ll never have to again. I’ll be able to shake that shadow that has haunted me my whole life—the one that took the shape of the various men travelling to and from my mother’s bed. I mean, who am I kidding? I’ll do it. I might even... like it, if I can forget that I’m being paid for sex.