The Billionaire's Marriage: A Romance Novel

by Marshall, Marnie

  "Yes?"

  "What do I do?"

  He's quiet for a moment. "I… don't understand the question." He brings his fingers under my chin and tilts my head to meet his eyes.

  "I mean, job-wise. Every time I wanted to ask, something would come up and I'd forget. So?"

  He chuckles. "Oh, that." Shifting a bit so he can look at me better, he plants a kiss on the tip of my nose. "You've been running a publishing company for the last two years."

  My brain blinks spastically. I think my eyes do too, but I'm too focused on the former. "I… what?"

  "King Publishing, formerly Seattle Independent Publishing. You're CEO. Though normally, you leave the routine stuff for the board to fight over and squirrel away in your office all day reading manuscripts. Watching you read can be very entertaining, baby."

  I'll chew over that last bit later… "Wait… rewind. A company? How? I just barely graduated…"

  "Maybe I should explain," he interrupts lightly.

  "I think you'd better." There's an edge of staggered hostility in my voice.

  Edward sighs. "Please don't be mad… again. You were, at first, but… just please, don't be mad at me, okay?" His demeanor has gone from gently teasing to scattered and abashed, like that of a teenager trying to talk his way out of something.

  "I'll try not to be." Oh Edward, please don't drop another bomb, I'm begging you. My subconscious is gripping her seat, white-knuckled.

  He nods. "Fair enough. Let's see… shortly after we met, you took an internship at SIP, and, forgive my control-freakishness, but when I found out about it, I bought the company." I open my mouth to interject; what, I'm not sure, but he brings his finger to my lips. "Please, baby. I was, and still am, very protective of you. Back then, it was probably a little over the top…" A little? "… and when you found out, you were understandably upset; you'd believed I'd interfere in your career, but that was never the case. You excelled at the position, and when the editor suddenly left, you were asked to step in for the interim. No one knew we were together, and I promise you, I didn't have a hand in your advancement. At least, not until after we married and I signed it over to you. It was one of your wedding gifts."

  One of? I don't even want to think what else there was, but I'm sure it was over the top as well, if his… our… style of living is any indication. I swat my subconscious back into her cage with a witchy-looking broom. "Is that all?"

  "Yes." His eyes are sincere, searching.

  I'm quiet for a moment, just absorbing. A company? A freaking company? What on earth am I going to do with a company? I like the idea of reading all day; I could live with my nose in a book for eight hours and be perfectly content with my career. But an entire company? "It's a lot to absorb," I admit, finally.

  "It is, I know. I have to say, you seem far more accepting than before. I'd like to hope it's because somewhere deep down, you know it's all right, and not because you're sitting on a barrel of angry primates." The teasing has returned, tentatively. I'm still having trouble getting a handle on his mood swings. Oh, Edward and his lighthearted twisting of common phrases…

  "You're playful tonight, Mr. King," I observe.

  "And you appear to be in a very forgiving mood, Mrs. King, if I'm reading you correctly."

  The corners of my mouth twitch. I really am in a mellow mood, and it surprises me. "I might be."

  "Might?" He raises his eyebrows.

  "Might," I mouth.

  He smiles. "I suppose that's better than the alternative. I'll take forgiving Krissy any day." His hand comes to rest at my waist.

  "I bet you would, since you seem to be in trouble with me often." I tease.

  I bask in his good humor, and his dancing gray eyes, for only a moment before he interrupts.

  "Oh, I am, am I?" he chuckles. "So, more questions?"

  Plenty. The list grows with each answer, each glimpse into this life. The last one ended on a more positive note than I'd originally envisioned, so I dig for a slightly more dangerous one. And with this man, I'm aware I could be asking for it. Be brave, Steele… err… King. "Are you doing okay, you know… waiting… for me?"

  His intake of breath doesn't go unnoticed, and his fingers tense slightly on my side. When they relax, I know he's working things out. He appears to spend a lot of time processing his feelings on a spur of the moment basis. It's intriguing. It's only then that I realize the question could be taken two ways, and whichever he's latched onto, it's the one that weighs most heavily on his mind.

  "Krissy, if you mean sex…" he shakes his head slowly, the tip of his nose brushing mine. He sighs. "I will wait, as long as it takes, for the time to be right. It isn't an issue. I can manage my… appetite… until then. Now, if you're referring to me waiting for you to remember, that's another matter entirely." His eyes are suddenly very, very sad. "I don't see it as waiting. You're my Krissy, in every way. I see more of my wife inside you each day, and as much as I want you to remember, as much as I'd give for that to happen, to help you regain what you've lost…" he swallows. "I'm okay. As long as I have you… all is right in the world."

  Wow… this is what real love is. I press forward and my mouth meets his, pulling him to me, and holding tight. His lips part, inviting, and I thrust my tongue into his mouth, meeting his and tasting, feeling. His hands at my side brush my waist where my shirt has ridden up, and the familiar spark of his skin against mine zings through my belly. Is this what lust feels like? Oh, I want him.

  Edward rolls me onto my back and hovers over me, all warm cotton pajamas and mussed hair, pressing me into the mattress. His weight is intoxicating. His lips leave a trail of kisses from my earlobe and down my jaw, across my neck, and down to the neckline of my silk top. His fingers rest lightly on my sides, his thumbs brushing the skin over my ribs.

  Suddenly it's blindingly bright. I blink and turn away, and he's there, holding me, his smile as radiant as the setting sun that warms us. It's strangely comforting and familiar, this shell beach, the salt on the air… oh, it's happening again. And for the first time, I'm aware, I'm not lost in the dream. I know this place, or I'm supposed to. I've been here, I'm sure of it, but I don't know where here is.

  Edward's hands are on my belly, my very round belly… oh my… his thumbs caress my sides, over my ribs, skimming the seam of what appears to be a light blue bikini. What boldness, to wear a bikini in this condition… though the way Edward is holding me, brushing his lips over my neck, it must have been more for his benefit. And I feel so beautiful, in his arms. This man loves me. Me, and no one else. My Edward.

  The beach fades into darkness as the sun sets, but I know what's happening… I'm returning to reality, and I let go.

  I'm increasingly aware that I'm being lightly shaken.

  "Krissy!"

  "Hmm…" I grumble. I wish I knew why these damn episodes make me so tired.

  "Oh, baby… thank God." I feel the rush of his relieved exhale flow across my skin. "Are you all right?"

  "Need… a minute…"

  "Okay. I'm here, love." His lips brush my forehead, my eyes, my cheeks, and I breathe in the scent of him.

  "How long…"

  "Less than a minute. Baby, I hate to leave you, but I need to tell the captain to land. We should get you to a hospital."

  "No…" I protest, my hands reaching out for him, grasping his shirt weakly. He worries far too easily. "No more hospitals. It's the same thing every time… more trouble than it's worth."

  He sighs. "Krissy, please… I fall apart inside every time this happens. What if this is the one time they scan you and find something?"

  I giggle weakly. "Only in some silly medical drama on TV."

  "Krissy, this is no joke." His expression is borderline frantic.

  It's my turn to sigh. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm okay, really."

  His eyes search my face, and I try to scowl, to make him laugh, or just to break the furrowed line between his eyebrows. I must not be very good at it, or his worry is just too gre
at. I lift my hand to his face and brush his cheek with my fingers. He grasps my hand and holds it there, leaning into my palm and closing his eyes. When they open again, he's calmed a bit. That's the secret… touching him.

  "Let me at least make Sawyer aware of the situation."

  "Edward, there isn't a situation," I plead. "I'm fine. Please. A hospital is the last place I want to be."

  He sighs. "All right. But let me apprise him. Just in case, baby. I like to cover all the bases." His eyes unfocus for a second and the corner of his mouth twitches, as though he's remembering something.

  "What is it?"

  He snorts. "It's nothing. When I come back, I want to hear what you remembered." He tucks the blanket securely around me and plants a sweet, lingering kiss on my cheek. "I'll just be a minute."

  It's probably been three or four when he returns. I'm not exactly sure. The hum of the plane's engines lulled me from reality until I heard the door click open again. He slides back in next to me and searches my tired expression.

  "You didn't tell them to land after all, did you?"

  Edward has the audacity to look mildly hurt. "I told you I wouldn't. I don't like being second-guessed."

  Oh. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it." Jeez, he looks wounded. I raise my fingers to brush his cheek. "I am sorry."

  He closes his eyes briefly, and when he opens them again, they've softened considerably. He turns into my hand and presses a kiss against my palm. "What did you see?"

  I sigh. "It was different this time."

  "How?"

  I shake my head slowly, working through the memory as I go. "I was aware of what it was. I um… I knew I was having an episode. Everything around me was familiar, but I couldn't place it, like the other times; I knew I'd been there, but I didn't know where there was."

  "Describe it for me."

  "A beach, at sunset…" I breathe, pulling from the memory. "The sand was all shells… it was really warm, humid… you were there, sitting behind me. Holding me. My suit was blue. I was…"

  "Pregnant. With Ryan." His eyes are bright with recognition.

  I wondered about that. I'm guiltily a little glad; this would be a miserable and awkward conversation if it had been our daughter, though secretly, I wish I had some recollection of her to hold onto. It isn't fair to her memory that her own mother doesn't remember her short life, and we'd been the closest that two people can be.

  "Penny for your thoughts, love?"

  I've drifted into my own thoughts again. "Sorry. Just wishing I could remember." I readjust under the covers. "The sun was setting over the water… were we in California?"

  "West Florida, actually. Naples. A state park, aptly called Lover's Key."

  I giggle. "Vacation?"

  "And a little business on the side. You were trying to persuade a new author to sign with you."

  Oh. Krissy King, the mobile publisher. "Did I succeed?"

  He chuckles. "You did. And additionally, a half hour later you talked me into giving a sad girl a job."

  My brow furrows. "I did?"

  "Let's just say she wasn't sad anymore after you finished with her," he teases, bumping the tip of my nose with his.

  "You'll have to explain that one."

  "Would you like the long or short version? I'd like for you to at least get some sleep tonight."

  "It's a long flight, if we're going where you say we are. I'll sleep later." I shift again, and he tucks me under his arm.

  "Very well. Once upon a time," he begins cheekily, "we ventured to Florida on vacation. You quickly grew tired of the pampered beaches near our resort, and so we ventured north to a small coastal park." He smiles at the memory. "You were more in your element there than I'd seen you in quite a while, outside your work... you later said it was because the people were so much more... normal. So you went for a walk, not leaving my sight, of course, and a girl about your age scolded you for collecting shells. Apparently it isn't permitted there, for future reference," he nuzzles my cheek with his nose, making me giggle.

  "So then what happened?"

  "Well, in all your compassionate and literary wisdom, you took more than superficial notice that she'd been upset by something other than your illicit crustacean pilfering, and the two of you got to talking. Mind you, I knew nothing until you dragged her over and informed me that I'd be giving her immediate employment."

  "I did that?" Wow. I find that I'm awfully pleased with myself. Somewhere in this whirlwind of a strange, overwhelming relationship, I grew a pair. Perhaps I've still got that in me; I tuck the thought away for future perusal.

  "You most certainly did. I had her on a plane to Seattle the following week. Miss Smith now co-heads our environmental oversight department. She's quite shrewd. You and she have lunch from time to time."

  Another acquaintance, or friend… I have no idea… whom I'd probably never recognize in passing. I decide something, spur of the moment.

  "I'd like to go back to work."

  His eyes widen, he shifts and peers down at me, brows furrowed. "I'm not sure that's the best idea, Krissy."

  "And why not? I need to get back to reality at some point. If I could do it before, I'm sure I could figure it out now."

  Edward's lips are a flat line. Why is he being like this?

  "I'd rather you didn't, Krissy. Very few people are aware of your memory loss. You may be treated differently…"

  "So... you're afraid of what people will think?" I interrupt.

  "That's only part of it, love." He sits up, crossing his legs. "Let me explain something to you. In our world, we're quite literally a power couple. When you and I are doing well, or at least, when nothing of notice is happening, the company does well, and our investors are happy to do business. Aside, the media thrives on what they know of us, publicly and privately. Don't misunderstand me; I don't give a flying fuck what anyone thinks of me, I never have. I don't much care if the company takes a dive for a time, until the news blows over. But I take jibes and insinuation toward you very seriously, and if you go back to work, it's only a matter of time before the public gains awareness of the situation, and I won't have anyone question your credibility. And with the loss of our child on top of it..." he trails off. It's a long moment of even breathing before he begins again. "I'm afraid, Krissy. I don't want you treated differently, with kid gloves or otherwise, whether it's out of sympathy, snobbery or media interest. You don't deserve it. And what if you had an episode there?" His expression is lost.

  I understand his point, somewhat. He's an overprotective control freak who wants everything in life just-so, and has a low pain threshold for anything unknown. I wonder how he'll be the first time Ryan gets taunted in school, heaven forbid...

  "Don't people know about the accident, though?"

  He swallows. "Only some. I didn't actually read what was written in the papers until after you woke up; my father handled the PR and did whatever damage control was necessary."

  I frown. "Does he work for the company too?"

  He blinks for a second. "No, baby. He has his own firm, but he looks out for our family interests, of course."

  Why didn't I know this? I chide myself. Oh, my life is so confusing. This escape is probably exactly what I need at the moment. I shake my head. "So what do people know?"

  "Just that you were in an accident, and that you're recovering. Everything else has been kept private. Only our families and John know of your memory loss."

  "And Jose."

  "Yes, him too."

  "Why does it matter who knows?"

  He shakes his head. "I told you."

  "No, you just said you don't want people to treat me differently. Well, they already know about the accident, and I've been locked away so long that they're bound to speculate. Besides, it's my story to tell. Sure, there will be some sympathy and stares, but I can handle it. Shouldn't this be my decision?"

  "Baby, I'm just thinking of you, and of our family. I don't want you to have to deal with any
of it." He runs a hand through his hair, making it stick up every which way, clearly exasperated. "Listen, we'll find a way for you to start working again, if that's what you really want. But it's the potential for media camping outside our gate that concerns me. It's a wonder they didn't catch wind of your little adventure last week. If they were to get word of your condition..." he sighs. "I just don't want you to be burdened with that on top of everything else."

  I sigh. He's conceded that I might return to some semblance of whatever career might be left for me, but honestly, I don't get all the worry about the media. We're not Hollywood celebrities. "Edward, what would happen if people found out? If they knew everything?"

  "Everything?" he exclaims, alarmed.

  "About the memory loss... and the baby."

  He gulps a breath. "Imagine news vans parked outside our home and King House at all hours. Random strangers stopping you on the street, asking personal questions. A entourage of security following you every second of the day. I'd likely be in the office ninety hours a week… I've done it before. You've been against living this way from the beginning."

  Doesn't security follow me every second of the day anyway? "Can I tell you what I think?"

  "Of course. Doesn't mean I'll agree."

  I snort. "I think people are going to talk, regardless. And so what? They'll be all 'poor Mrs. King' and then get on with their sad, meddlesome lives after someone far more sensational trips on a sidewalk somewhere and breaks her face. This doesn't worry me all that much."

  Who knew our conversation would turn from shelly beaches to media frenzy in a matter of twenty minutes. Edward's fingers are knotted in his lap. "And what about Ryan, hmm? What do you propose we tell him when he starts to notice how things are? And if he sees his mother regarded with disrespect?"

  I square my shoulders. How I do this lying down I'm unsure, but as I'm still too tired to sit up, it'll have to do. "It'll be a lesson in humility for sure. But isn't it better to show him how to handle such things with integrity than to hide from them?"