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The Billionaire Bachelor (Billionaire Bad Boys Book 1)

Page 11

by Jessica Lemmon


  “Well. Six months ain’t all that long.” Lorelei polished off her olives and ordered another round—a pink drink for Merina and a martini for herself.

  “The wedding is Saturday and you are officially coming. You and my parents. Bring a date.”

  “Saturday?” Lorelei shook her head. “Oh, girl. I have to meet with a client…” She shook her head and then smiled. “You know what? She’s canceled on me twice already. I’ll be there.”

  “Good. I’d love to see Malcolm again.” Merina grinned. She’d been teasing Lore by bringing up her ex-husband, but the moment she did, Lorelei gaped at her like a fish, then pressed her full lips together. “I knew it.” Merina wrapped her hand around her refilled drink. “I knew you two weren’t over each other.”

  “It’s nothing! Just…exes with benefits. We’re not getting into anything like you are.” Lorelei waved a dismissive hand.

  “Yeah, we’ll see.”

  “Oh? And you know you won’t fall into bed with Reese Crane?”

  Merina shushed her friend. Reporters could be anywhere. She doubted it, but one could never be too careful.

  “Of course I will,” she said, batting her eyes in a way that let Lorelei know there was no alluding to the real truth of the situation while they were in public. “He’s my almost-husband.”

  Lorelei caught on and took a careful glance around before winking.

  “How do you know we haven’t already?” Merina asked, lifting her glass.

  “Aw, hell no.” Lorelei propped both elbows on the bar and under her breath said, “We’re going to need a signal or something so I know when you’re being honest with me. I can’t take this did-you-or-didn’t-you stuff.”

  Drink in hand, Merina looked over her shoulder and spotted a woman who was trying to pretend she wasn’t looking in their direction. Reporter or yet another of Reese’s past dates? Maybe both? Enjoying herself, Merina rested her chin in her left hand, angling the hunk of diamond so it sparkled in the overhead lights.

  She wanted to see the woman’s reaction but didn’t want to be obvious. So instead, she just smiled and enjoyed the One Ring of Power sitting not-so-discreetly on her third finger.

  * * *

  “Tee many martoonis.” Merina giggled as she climbed out of the car a few hours later. Lorelei had picked Merina up, but after three and a half hours imbibing drinks at O’Leary’s, there was no way Lore trusted herself to drive. So, Uber it was.

  “You? Me, girl. I’m a mess. Good night, future Mrs. Reese Crane!” Lorelei shouted from the backseat, then she pulled the door shut. Merina waved and stagger-stumbled up the five steps to her front door.

  Soon to be her parents’ front door. Because she was moving to Lake Shore into a house big enough to hold her and her family and a few friends, and the entire cast of Glee.

  She giggled at her own joke and popped open the door, only to be greeted by her dad.

  Though “greeted” was the wrong term. Accosted might be a better one.

  “Mer,” he said, his voice stony. His eyes went to her hand and he sucked in a breath and let it out. He sounded like a hibernating grizzly when he did that. The sound meant trouble and always sent a shiver down her spine.

  She hiccupped. Right on cue.

  “I need some water,” she said, her words running together.

  “I’ll get it.” This the weary voice of her mother, who, like her dad, was in a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt but also a hoodie.

  “You didn’t have to wait up,” Merina said, and her enunciation hadn’t improved.

  Her mother handed her a glass of tap water and Merina chugged.

  “We received a call from cousin Patty,” Jolie said. “She directed me to a website where your love life has been openly broadcasted.”

  Great. Her mother’s first cousin was a gossip hound. She lived in Missouri and one would swear she was part of the FBI for all the details she excavated about each of her relatives.

  “You and Reese were spotted at a bridal shop, and I told her there was no way…” Her mother’s words faded out.

  Merina blinked, realizing she’d lifted her left hand—with a rock the size of the kitchen table on it—to smooth her hair.

  This wasn’t the way she wanted her parents to find out.

  Jolie moved from behind the counter and took Merina’s hand. A gasp sounded in her throat. Behind her, her father let out a sigh that sounded more like a grizzly bear that’d been punched in the nose.

  “I wanted to tell you, but everything happened so fast.” Which was not exactly a lie. Things were moving at lightning speed.

  “I don’t like it,” he said.

  “Well, it’s not up to you.” Merina spun on him and his face mottled red. She thought of his heart and softened her tone. “I’m sorry. I’m”—she waved her hand as she tried to come up with an excuse for her behavior but couldn’t come up with anything but the truth—“drunk.”

  “Were you drunk when you said yes?” her father asked.

  “Dad!”

  “Sweetheart, why wouldn’t you tell us how serious things were between the two of you?” Jolie asked.

  “I couldn’t!” That was the truth, anyway. “I was worried you wouldn’t approve. Not that I need your approval, because we’re getting married on Saturday whether you approve or not.” Merina grasped the edge of the counter as the room swayed. She chugged down the rest of her water in greedy gulps before surrendering the glass to the sink.

  “Saturday?” Her mother looked aghast.

  “Yes. A private affair at his mansion. I only want you and Dad and Lorelei there.”

  Jolie raced over and grasped Merina’s face. “I’d ask if you were pregnant, but surely you wouldn’t drink this much if you were.”

  Merina put a palm over one of her mother’s hands. “I’m not pregnant. I”—she swallowed and told another lie, hoping to God she’d remember how to tell the truth once she was through with this charade. “We fell in love.”

  The phrase came out as if said while her mouth was full of peanut butter, lilting at the end so it sounded more like a question.

  “We didn’t expect it. I wasn’t trying to keep it from you.”

  “But your dress…” Jolie didn’t continue but she didn’t have to. Her mother had wanted to be there when Merina tried on her wedding gown, of course she had.

  “You were busy at work,” Merina mumbled, knowing it was a lame excuse. Then she said, “You’ll see it Saturday,” which was even lamer.

  Jolie moved her hands out from under Merina’s, covered her own face, and burst into tears.

  Sobriety never came so fast.

  Her father curled an arm around her mom, shushing her, and sent Merina a glare. “This is the wrong time to do this. Better head to bed.” His glare had definitely not softened.

  Merina nodded and let her parents go up ahead of her. She lingered by the sink, refilling the glass and popping two Advil in the hopes she’d stave off the headache that would no doubt hit her tomorrow morning.

  She adjusted the ring on her finger, admiring its beauty and hating what it stood for at the same time. A sham of a marriage that was already hurting the ones she loved. You’re doing this for them, she reminded herself. Then she climbed the steps and fell into bed.

  Chapter 8

  Ideal wedding weather” was how Penelope Brand had described the day when she texted her congratulations on Saturday morning. Merina could state with conviction that the weather was not her main concern.

  Her goal was simple: Remain in the here and now, standing in front of God and her parents, her best friend, and the man to whom she’d soon be lawfully wed, without passing out or bursting into tears.

  And she didn’t mean tears of joy.

  For most of the ceremony, she’d kept her focus on Reese’s bow tie. His tux was stunning black, his dark blue eyes welcoming, his hair perfect. Her dress had been altered, the lace fitted snugly, the back low but not too low. Her ring was now paired with the
matching wedding band and the weight of it on her hand was almost overwhelming.

  She was in the process of being married. Unbelievable.

  On her “husband’s” side of the room were Reese’s father, Alex, his brother Tag, and a man named Bob, who Reese had referred to as a member of the board. Merina didn’t like Bob. It was partly his fault she was in this mess.

  The officiant’s voice was a distant murmur saying words she’d heard before at friends’ and family members’ weddings, only now those recited promises were coming from her lips. Things like “to have and to hold” and “from this day forward” and “until death do us part.”

  Part of her screamed from the inside that she was essentially lying and the lying part of her argued that for now, at least, she meant it. This marriage would die when Reese became CEO of Crane Hotels.

  So that sort of counted.

  The officiant said, “You may kiss your bride,” and Merina thought she was ready for Reese’s mouth on hers again. She was wrong. His kiss was as heady as it had been before and even in the midst of uncertainty she found herself leaning in. She didn’t have to fake her physical attraction to him. Not even a little.

  The marriage may be for show, but her reaction to him was very real. How could he taste this good, feel this good if this was supposed to be pretend? He deepened the kiss and she stood on her toes to get closer, aware of Tag cutting in with a sharp whistle and a shout of, “Hell, yeah!”

  She lowered to her heels as applause engulfed them. Reese kept his gaze locked to hers, and she wondered if his smile was as genuine as his kiss.

  * * *

  The reception was a tidy affair, by Reese’s choice. He may have let his wedding planner go overboard with the flowers out front, but inside was a neat buffet-style table. Well, mostly neat. She’d littered the table with candles.

  Reese plated up a selection of meats and cheeses aside Merina as their guests lined up behind them to do the same. He’d tried to read her during the ceremony as much as he’d tried to manage his facial expressions. He wasn’t nervous, but the “till death” part made him twitchy. He didn’t take promises or commitments lightly. But then he reminded himself that was why he was marrying Merina in the first place.

  Her parents were in attendance, as well as her best friend-slash-lawyer, Lorelei Monson. He’d learned shortly after issuing the prenup that Ms. Monson was in the know about what was really going on between him and Merina, but given her best friend and client had something to gain and plenty to lose, Reese trusted the other woman to keep the knowledge to herself.

  She seemed to be on board with the whole thing, save for a few sharp, assessing looks she’d shot him during the ceremony—and oh, look, there was one now. He’d survived steelier scowls than hers.

  In the board member department, Bob and a particularly unsavory character, Ronald Dice, stood behind Reese, but Dice had largely ignored them while he plated his food.

  “Thank you,” Merina said as he handed her a set of silverware wrapped in a cloth napkin.

  “Champagne or wine?” he asked. He could use a scotch.

  “Oh, um, champagne. We are celebrating.” Her smile was faint and her voice heavy.

  Reese leaned close and under the guise of placing a kiss at her temple, he said, “This is a party, and, yes, we are celebrating.” He heard the sharp intake of breath, watched her breasts lift with the inhale. They may be partying, marrying, for show, but their reaction to each other was so grounded it practically vibrated the floor.

  When he’d put his lips to hers during the ceremony, she’d softened, her rigid shoulders lowering, her body loosening. Then she came closer and held on to him. Attraction was not something they’d have to fake—good news, considering they’d need to convince the media as well as the board—but the implications of being truly attracted to the woman he lived with could prove dangerous. And fun.

  If he allowed himself to have a little.

  Correction: If Merina allowed him to have a little.

  He drew back, pleased to see an answering heat in the depths of her eyes. “Sit.” He nodded to their table and handed off their plates to a waiter. “I’ll be over with your drink.”

  “Thank you, Reese.” Her voice was soft, her demeanor relaxed.

  Before she got away, though, Dice stopped her with a compliment…dressed up as an excuse to bust Reese’s balls.

  “You make a beautiful bride, Mrs. Crane,” Dice said, his beady eyes sharp and shrewd. Of the board members, he’d be the hardest to convince, and exactly why Alex had suggested they invite him. “Quite the speedy nuptials. Making me wonder if you two kids have gotten yourselves into a pickle.” He winked and laughed heartily, his gaze going to Merina’s belly—flat and streamlined in her gown.

  Merina’s bare shoulders stiffened and Reese didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around her.

  “Ronald Dice. Goes by Dice,” Reese said of their unwanted company. “He’s been with the board for over twelve years. His wife, Monica, wasn’t able to make it. I hear she’s on another trip to Cancun?” Reese moved his hand along Merina’s bare back. She shuddered beneath his touch.

  Dice stiffened, his pompous smile erasing. It was a company rumor that Monica went to Cancun to sleep with other men. Judging by Dice’s curled lip, Reese guessed it was true.

  “Too bad she couldn’t make it,” Merina said, her smooth delivery not giving up her nerves. God. This woman. Cool and smooth, yet warm and lush. He allowed his fingertips to tickle her spine, enjoying the way she shifted at the touch.

  “Yes. Well.” Dice cleared his throat. “Again, congrats.” He stepped out of line and scuttled to a table to ruin someone else’s day. Reese watched as he made the poor decision to sit next to Lorelei. Perfect. She wouldn’t let Dice push her around.

  One glass of scotch turned into two, and Merina downed two glasses of champagne and finished her plate of food. Next to him, she propped her elbow on the table, chin in her hand, and watched the room.

  “Not a bad first wedding,” she said after checking to be sure no one was listening. He did the same before responding.

  “No one would know it was your first. You handled it like a pro.”

  She sent him a wry look. “Me? Sure you’ve never done this before, Crane?”

  “Positive.” He leaned close and she didn’t move an inch. Her eyes flicked to his lips and their guests immediately lifted their forks and rang the silverware against their crystal glasses.

  “We have to kiss,” she breathed, her face flushing the most attractive shade of pink.

  “Shame,” he murmured, then leaned the rest of the way to place a soft kiss on her mouth. They lingered and the ringing sound faded into another wolf whistle from Tag and a few female giggles.

  Reese pulled his face away to admire his gorgeous bride in white, lit by candlelight.

  Kissing for the public was a task he’d expected, but feeling it, responding to it wasn’t. He shifted in his seat, attraction lingering between them.

  “Cake!” Tag shouted.

  The perfect segue. Reese wondered if his brother saw something in the kiss that made him think Reese might need a reprieve.

  The formality was quick, Reese slicing the cake, Merina feeding him a bite, and him returning the favor. Whether it was the champagne making her ballsy, or she was trying to kill him, he couldn’t be sure, but when he gave her the bite of cake, her lips closed over his finger and sucked. A muscle in his jaw twitched, but his bride didn’t let up, pulling his finger from her mouth so slowly, he thought he might die.

  Vixen.

  Guests came to retrieve slices of cake and congratulate the happy couple if they hadn’t already. Merina’s father, Mark, offered a hand and said congratulations, along with Jolie, who did the same. Reese accepted their handshakes, but they still didn’t look convinced.

  “Where is the honeymoon?” Jolie asked, cake plate in hand.

  “It’s a surprise,” Reese answered.

  “Will yo
u be home to get your things?” Jolie asked Merina, sadness stealing into her expression.

  “Reese is sending movers tomorrow,” Merina answered, her tone soothing.

  These two were close. Keeping such a big secret from her mother had been a lot to ask.

  “Well. I wish you two the best. And do come visit, sweetheart,” Jolie said.

  “Mom. It’s not like I’ll never see you again.” Merina sighed when they walked away. “I need more champagne.”

  “Do you?” Reese lashed an arm around her waist and noticed Dice looking at them as if questioning his earlier suspicions. He and Merina had just about convinced the jackhole. Nice. He lowered his mouth to her ear. “We’re being watched.”

  “We should give the people what they want,” she replied.

  Reese kissed her ear, then her neck, pleased when she tipped her head to give him room. She might not know the effects her bared skin and tempting perfume had on him, but she certainly knew what she was doing when she backed her ass into his crotch and wiggled.

  “Merina.” He grasped her waist, his voice a low growl.

  “Trying to make it believable,” she whispered, half turning to give him a saucy wink.

  “I can’t go to the bar now,” he said. “Part of me needs a shield.”

  “The rocket part?” she asked, pleased with herself.

  “Vixen.” This time he said it out loud.

  * * *

  She could blame the champagne for her behavior, but she could also blame the fact that she was now married and could do whatever she wanted to him. Reese had all but forced her hand in marriage, so he deserved every bit of discomfort.

  Only now, his discomfort was matched by hers. The warmth in her belly trickled lower and Merina was overly warm in places off-limits to Reese Crane. He could kiss her. He could suggestively touch her. But the contract didn’t include sex.

  Sex.

  Just thinking the word made her chest pulse with longing. Bumping against Reese’s erection and hearing his commanding, teasing growl of the word vixen, her lips pulled into a smile. Who would have thought she’d wield so much power over the man who ruled them all?

 

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