Inheritance With a Catch: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Billionaire Inheritance Series Book 1)

by Denise Daye

  With a cheeky smile on his face, he folded out a blanket on the floor and lay down right there and then. Let her find me here when she wakes up. It was dark and quiet, and he was about to doze off when he first started noticing her calm, steady breathing. Then her scent started to make its way to him. She smelled of fresh shampoo. It drove him crazy. From there on, he could think of nothing else but her body only a few feet away from his.

  “Probably because it is some dollar store shampoo,” he mumbled to himself as he tossed and turned. But after he had endured this for another ten minutes and resigned himself that he was wide awake, he finally given up and grabbed his blanket of the floor and left—almost slamming the door behind himself.

  His angry footsteps led him to the guest room, cussing all the way. “If you keep this up, you’ll be out of an inheritance before the six months are up,” he scolded himself.

  That was hours ago, and the reason why he woke up early in a guest room. Benjamin straightened his hair with his fingers and got up, ready to battle Ava over his room.

  “If I am awake at this hour, you can be as well,” he said out loud as he strode down the hallway to his room. He would pull the blanket off his bed, wake her rudely. He stopped in front of his door, his hand tightly on the gleaming gilded handle, feeling the coldness of its touch, when he froze once more.

  What if she was not dressed? His head shook wildly. Her problem, my room.

  “You are the grandson of Elijah Radcliff and you are scared of a naked woman?”

  He pushed down an inch on the handle and froze in motion again.

  For a brief second he pictured himself slowly opening the door and going even slower as he would walk over to the bed and press himself down next to her. A hot tingle rushed through his stomach as he pictured her clam breath on his skin.

  What if you scare her, come off as a perv?

  He squeezed the handle so tight that it hurt. But instead of sneaking in to sleep next to her or bolting in to claim what was rightfully his, he let out a loud breath and stepped back.

  “What the hell am I doing?”

  Long forgotten memories started flooding the opened gates of his mind. He was acting like they were still children and Ava had the magical power to push him around, tell him what to do. He had almost completely forgotten about that. No other person would ever dare do that again. They fought as kids, all the time, which was probably the reason why she stopped coming over at some point.

  With a grunt, he turned and walked into the kitchen to get coffee. I’ll let her have the room a little longer, then claim it back, full steam ahead, he thought.

  He almost stumbled backwards when he saw that the culprit behind his night of agony was already up, sitting at the kitchen island, sipping coffee from a cup, playing with her phone. He bit his lower lip. After the whole drama at his room’s door…and there she was... Wide awake. Dressed for work in some jeans, Converses, and a sweater that had a small church logo on it. His wife Ava. Wife.

  “Normal people are still in bed at this hour,” he growled at her.

  “Working class people work and stuff… you know,” she said. “But then again…maybe you don’t…”

  Ben flinched. Already throwing daggers, huh?

  “Too funny. The homeless are lucky people if you are as dedicated at the shelter as you are with your sarcasm.”

  They both fake laughed at one another and Benjamin grabbed his coffee to sit down. Not with her, no. Instead, he took a seat at the table on the other side of the kitchen.

  Feet away and ignoring each other, both were sipping coffee and, in Benjamin’s case, devising plans. Ava finally stood but as Ben had turned his back on her, he didn’t notice.

  “Now where is the darn sugar kept in this house?” He got up and as soon as he turned, he saw Ava inches away from him. Too late; they clashed. She gasped, clearly startled, and tried to move out of the way but clipped her foot against one of the chairs, losing balance. Acting on instinct, Benjamin reached out and grabbed her. He felt the warmth of her body as it pressed against his arms. She gasped again, sharp and short, as he pulled her up, inadvertently pulling her close to his chest, their faces inches away. Both of their cheeks flashed instantly hot and red. His hand was firmly tucked under her arm, the other resting on her waist. He could feel her chest rising and falling as she breathed deeply, and he could smell that delicious scent again. Benjamin’s heart thumped faster, hammering against his chest as he looked down at her.

  “Careful now,” he said in a soft voice.

  Ava tried to speak. She opened her mouth, but the words seemed lost. The more he stared into her eyes, the more everything seemed to fizzle out and blurry, placing his mind in overdrive.

  His gaze wandered to her lips. Just a few inches. That was all it would take for his lips to brush against hers. The thought made him shiver. Are you crazy? he heard the voice in his head say. Let her go, now!

  But Ava did him the favor first. She pulled away, leaning over next to his feet.

  “I-I am sorry. I hope it wasn’t expensive,” she finally spoke, her voice shaky. For the first time, Benjamin noticed the shattered mug next to him. They both stared at it now, a complexity of tiny pieces of ceramics, spread out unevenly over the dark tiles.

  “I’ll tidy that up,” Ava said, her voice still shaky. “Do you know where I can find a broom?”

  “A-a broom?” Ben responded, slowly pulling himself back into this world, from wherever this little incident had transported him.

  “Yeah, that thing you move around on the floor. Like this,” she said imitating a sweeping motion with her empty hands. “It’s called cleaning. I am sure you have witnessed one of your maids doing it before?”

  Benjamin frowned. First, she stole his room and now she is mocking him in his own kitchen. Was there any woman more unbearable than Ava Burn—Radcliff?

  “Ah yeah. That way,” he said pointing out the door down the hallway.

  “The broom is that way?”

  “No, the staff quarters are. Ask them.”

  For a moment, they looked at each other again, but this time annoyed and angry.

  “Oh, and before I forget, the room you slept in last night is my room. There are plenty of other rooms, so if you don’t mind, I will claim it back. Unless you took it because you want to watch me undress and take showers in there?”

  Ava’s face turned tomato red. “I-I just slept there because they put my suitcases in there. Clearly, nobody bothered to have a room prepared for me.”

  Without another word, he turned and left. Fled? Even he wasn’t sure.

  “You can have it back,” Ava yelled after him as he walked down the hallway to get back into his room.

  “All those golden Rolexes were blinding me in my sleep anyways!” he heard her voice fade as he closed the door to his room behind himself.

  I can still smell her in here. That scent made him remember the touch of her skin. He strode over to the windows and tore them wide open when a soft knock on the door pulled him out of his thoughts.

  “Are you here to see me undress after all?” he provoked Ava. The door opened and Lorena stood in front of him, her brows raised high on her old, chubby face, her hands straightening her maid’s gown.

  “No-no, Sir. I saw you awake so I came here for the laundry.”

  Ben shook his head. “I’m so sorry Lorena. Really. I thought you were my wife.”

  My WIFE? Benjamin threw his face into his palms. “Six months of this, how will I survive?”

  “What was that, Sir?”

  “Nothing…”

  Lorena walked in to grab the laundry basket out of the closet but then it hit Ben. After the whole booming incident in the kitchen… he was giving Ava more ammo to mock him. He could literally see her right in front of him imitating how to load and unload a washer. “This is how you wash clothes… if you are not a rich baby who has maids do that for you…” she would say.

&
nbsp; “You know what, Lorena… No need to do my laundry. I will do it myself.”

  Lorena, who was already carrying the basket out of the room, froze.

  “Emmmm…what?”

  “The laundry. I will do it myself,” Ben said grabbing the basket from her.

  “But—”

  “No buts.” He assured her. “It can’t be that hard now, can it?”

  With long steps, Ben walked out of his room, but then stopped in the hallway and turned around again.

  “Which way is the laundry room again?”

  Lorena let out a small sigh. “I will show you.”

  “Good idea...”

  Ben followed Lorena down the hallway. If Ava Burns thought she could mock him out of his own home, then she was wrong. Two could play this game.

  As he followed Lorena’s incredibly slow trot, Ben’s eyes were peeking left and right in the hopes that Ava would see him do his own laundry. Why he cared he had no clue, but for some reason, he did—more than he was comfortable to admit.

  Work, finally.

  If there was anything she knew would keep her sane, it was work. I’ll have to see him again soon. Her heart fell at the thought. Last night had been nothing short of nerve-wracking. First, she was wandering through the halls of the mansion for hours, looking for somebody who could help her find her room. The staff had no idea what was going on and when she finally ran into Lucy, the woman just shrugged her shoulders and said, “The garage for all I care.”

  Finally, the cook bumped into her and told her that he had seen boxes being carried into Benjamin’s room. Why they would pick his room out of all the rooms she had no idea, but he probably had twenty other rooms he can sleep in. But the scene he made this morning about it obviously proved otherwise.

  This morning… For a brief second she allowed her mind to jump back to the moment when he had pulled her into his arms. She hated how it made her skin tingle. She was outraged at herself, especially as she had thought herself immune to those empty smiles and glances Benjamin Radcliff threw at women to woo them. By God, he was handsome, but that had never been enough for Ava to feel attracted to someone. Or had the billion-dollar house already changed her to being shallow in one night? But what disheartened Ava the most was the fact how nasty she was to Benjamin. For some reason, she just could not get herself to be nice to him. Why was that? What was she so afraid of?

  Ava turned off her car with the usual worry that it might not fire back on when she was done with work. According to her marriage contract she was entitled to a car for her personal use, and Benjamin had pretty much told her to just go the garage and pick whatever she wanted. But she didn’t expect to find that not a single car in there cost less than eighty thousand dollars. How in the name of everything out there could she possibly ride up here in an 80k Audi? Besides, what would people think of her? She might as well circle a neon-red target sign onto her back. People around here didn’t even have money for food. She was in this business for too long to pretend that a luxury car would go unnoticed just because a nice social worker was driving it.

  “Hey, Ava, you’re here early,” John said, walking up to her. She flinched. Did they already know of her marriage?

  “I’m glad to see you here.”

  “Why is that?”

  John rolled his eyes. “Really?” Ne nodded toward the newsstand a few feet away. A picture of her and Benjamin eating at the restaurant was on several of the front covers. Bob, the old man owning the stand, now saw her and threw her a thumbs up with an enormous grin. Ava sighed.

  “It’s not what is looks like.”

  “None of my business…” he countered in an emotionless tone. “Just glad you didn’t ditch us. We are short of hands already.”

  “I would never do that,” she said, and they started walking. John folded his arms and nodded; his eyes narrowed as he scrutinized her.

  “Yeah right. Come on, Ava. Benjamin Radcliff. I mean… Benjamin Radcliff? We are not talking rich and upper class here. We are talking about the definition of rich and upper class here. You’ll see. Soon you will show up in a Porsche or something, and then you’ll stop showing up at all.”

  “I thought you said it’s none of your business,” Ava said tartly.

  “It isn’t. But I am just saying. Soon you’ll be outta this dark hole here to swim in pools of money.”

  “And we will be happy for you when you move on to a new chapter of her life,” Father Brown now entered the conversation. Like Houdini, he had appeared out of nowhere holding up the door for them. John redirected his gaze onto the floor.

  “Of course, we will,” were his last words before he bolted off down the hallway. Ava let out a sigh.

  “He will come around,” Father Brown said to her in a comforting voice. But Ava looked after him, knowing deep down inside her heart that he probably wouldn’t.

  “Wohoo!” Maria shouted over to Ava from behind them. Ava and Father Brown turned to find Maria put a few newspapers onto the sidewalk and sit down on them. “That’s what I call a catch!” she shouted waving Ava over. With a smirk Ava waved back.

  “She is really happy for you,” Father Brown said also waving at Maria.

  “Funny…,” Ava mumbled shaking her head. “All of Manhattan is freaking out. My mother-in-law hates me. My coworkers disapprove as well. But I do have support in the unlikeliest of places.”

  Father Brown nodded with an all-knowing smile. “Even our Lord Jesus sought the company of the poorest souls amongst us. Who are we to diminish them when the Lord saw so much in their hearts?”

  Ava just nodded back. That was a bit too profound for her so early in the morning.

  “I will go sit with her for a bit.”

  “Good idea. I will see you later.”

  Ava had already walked a few steps toward Maria when Father Brown called her name once more:

  “Oh, and Ava!”

  She turned just to find him hold his thumbs up with a wide grin. She laughed and rolled her eyes. Maybe those six months will go by faster than I thought.

  Roger lived in a big house in a swanky neighborhood, “Paid for by my own money,” he liked to remind everyone. It was a sealed-off residential area, the kind that required a gate code to get into. After what had happened the night of his grandfather’s fundraiser, Benjamin almost did not call him back. But when Roger called again, followed by a big “I am so terribly sorry for the other night” text, Benjamin did pick up and agreed to meet after work for a drink. Not at a bar. Even if Benjamin couldn’t stand his wife right now, he still was a married man. He had always despised those married men and women who would take off their wedding bands to pretend that they were available or said that they “had marital issues” to get a pass on cheating.

  Benjamin jumped up the porch steps and rang the doorbell several times then faced the street, his hands stuck in his pocket as he cursed both the heavy rain and Roger for not opening the door faster.

  “Open up,” he muttered and pressed the doorbell again.

  “I’m coming! I’m coming already,” Roger yelled from inside the house. The door swung open and Roger’s face lit up when he saw Benjamin.

  “You know, call me crazy but I think I could tell it was you at my door from the crazy way you show entitlement, even with a doorbell.”

  “Then what took you so long?” Benjamin joked back in an arrogant voice. A distant rumble in the sky made the two aware of the angry skies and heavy rain.

  “Am I just going to keep standing out here or are you going to let me in?”

  “You’re tracking wet footprints on my carpet,” Roger shut the door. He scoffed and went to Benjamin’s side, holding both shoulders and teased, “but that doesn't matter; pretty sure you’re able to replace a thousand-dollar carpet?”

  Benjamin shrugged the hands from his shoulders, glancing at the carpet for just a short moment. “If my wife is having her way, I will end up sleeping on this carpet penn
iless.”

  Roger shrugged and walked over into his kitchen, his robe flapping like a loose cape as he walked. Benjamin followed him with mild amusement. Roger was something else, that was for sure. But he welcomed the light-hearted distraction far away from the nosy crowds of the beautiful and rich filling the fancy Manhattan bars he preferred.

  “I’ll have to admit, I’m glad I was stoned when I heard the news. So this shit is for real? Your grandpa made you marry a woman for dough?” Roger said in in usual vulgar tone that Benjamin had grown accustomed to. This was Roger; take it or leave it.

  Benjamin’s mind shifted back to Ava and his new marriage, even as he took off his wet coat and sat down at the kitchen island. Roger’s home was simple, yet comfortable. Roger came with drinks—a bottle of rum—twisting the cork and pouring into one of the glasses. He also sighed and sat down beside his friend, leaning back and taking a sip from the glass in his hand, while the empty one just sat on the island in front of him.

  “You don’t expect me to pour you a drink now, do you?” Roger smirked.

  “You, my friend, are a terrible host.”

  Roger shrugged and accepted it, sitting with his legs spread. Thank God he has something underneath that robe.

  “For how long you’ve been married now?”

  “Twelve long days. Six more months to go.”

  “Wow. That’s crazy man. How is it going? Is she cool? Good in bed?” His accent had a slight drawl to it, almost sounded an exaggerated drawl, like a Texan accent. Ben frowned at all of his questions. Strangely enough, the one last one bothered him the most. As much as he disliked Ava, it still didn’t feel right to talk about his wife like she was some chick he had a fling with. But Roger didn’t know any better, so he ignored it... this time.