The Beaumont Brothers: The Complete Series

by North, Leslie

  His voice trickled through her like warm honey, a delicacy as much as a salve. Her breath hitched, and she dropped her keys right back into her purse.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He wet his bottom lip, looking around as if this was some sort of complex question that required forethought. He pressed his palm to the roof of her car. “I had to find you.”

  She jerked her attention down to her purse, grabbing for the keys before she had to repeat her quest. Besides, now she really needed to get out of there.

  “You threw me out of your life. Why do you care where I am?” She yanked her car door open, shoving her purse inside. She tossed her books one by one into the passenger seat.

  “I made a mistake.”

  His words made her eyes flutter shut. The words she’d been dreaming of since she left Austria. The words she’d been too scared to actually hope for. This had to be a dream.

  “Oh well. Too late.” She pressed a fake smile to her lips. “Anything else?”

  “Please hear me out,” he said. His blue eyes seared through her, rooting her to her spot. She should drive away, but she couldn’t stop looking at his boyishly handsome face. The face she had sincerely believed she would never see again, not even with every stroke of luck available.

  “Like you heard me out?” she shot back.

  He deflated slightly. “Hopefully a bit more than that.”

  “I don’t have time for you. You’re engaged now; you’ve got everything you want. You and your lawyers made it really clear that you want nothing to do with me, so you can fuck off.” The tabloids had smeared their brief Austrian dalliance around for about a week before it faded into obscurity. The announcement of his engagement to Abby, however, was like the news that the world just couldn’t let go of. Speculation about the wedding, their ridiculous Mount St. Helens proposal; it was like everyone was obsessed with this quasi-royal affair. And Jess was forced by her own morbid curiosity to watch the saga of how well she’d done her job in picking this fiancée for him.

  He winced, curling his hands into fists. “Dammit, Jess. I can’t get over you. Okay? I thought I could cut you out and just move on, but I can’t.”

  His words echoed through the air as if he’d shouted through a megaphone. It nearly hurt to hear them. When she didn’t respond, he continued. “I didn’t want to fall in love. I never wanted to fall in love. Not with anyone. It was my life’s goal to avoid it, actually. And I thought I had. But I fell in love with you. Before Austria, actually. Before I lost my memory. And when you took the role of my fiancée, yeah, I fell in love with you a second time. And you showed me what it actually felt like to be with someone who…cared.” His voice broke a little, sending a shockwave of emotion through her.

  “I’ve been in love with you since we started working together. Practically since the day I met you. I couldn’t admit it; I could barely even conceive it. So of course I fought this with every fiber of my being. But it was wrong. I can admit it now. I can finally see the truth. I just want you, Jess. I want to be with you. I want to try something. For the first time in both of our lives.” He paused, drawing a deep breath, his face creased with emotion. “Can we?”

  Jess blinked a few times, willing herself to give the answer she knew she should give. The strong answer. The independent answer. The answer he deserved.

  “No.”

  As soon as the word passed her lips, she stuffed herself into her car and slammed the door shut, starting the car. Alistair’s torso tugged at her attention through the passenger window. He pressed his hand to the glass, and she looked away, missing even his knuckles, the knobbiness of them, the way he could send thrills under her skin just by brushing her jaw with them.

  Jess reversed and sped out of the parking lot as fast as she could, not daring to look in her rearview once. It felt like she barely drew a breath the whole way home.

  * * *

  Later that night, she tortured herself by replaying Alistair’s words in her head, focusing on the rawness of his voice, the emotion that had leaked out of him. Was it right to deny him? He hadn’t been able to see her belly, so he still didn’t know about Marigold. But how much longer could she put it off, now that he actually wanted to see her?

  Around seven p.m., a light knock at her door sounded. She creased a brow, wondering who might have gotten past the intercom system. Only a small handful of friends knew the code to get in, but she wasn’t expecting anyone tonight. She peered through the peephole, biting back a gasp.

  It was Alistair.

  Of course he’d show up here. She pinched the bridge of her nose. Time for damage control. He couldn’t see her belly. Not quite yet. But dammit, she wanted to hear him out, to hear what other sweet things he might say. To see just how willing he was to make it all up to her.

  Her hand drifted to the doorknob. “What do you want?”

  “Marigold.”

  She winced.

  “Please, let’s talk. I had much more to say earlier.”

  She pressed her forehead to the door, hand shaking as she sifted through the emotions. “If I let you into my apartment, it’s on my terms.”

  “There’s no other way.”

  She drew a deep breath. “First of all…Once I unlock this door you count to five before you open it.”

  “Fine.”

  “And then once you’re in here, you don’t touch me. And you don’t call me Marigold anymore.” Because that was her baby’s name now, even if he didn’t know it.

  “Deal. May I start counting now?”

  She cursed to herself, looking back at the couch. She’d bundle up in the blankets, hide her belly, maybe even feign an illness. “Okay. Go.”

  She flipped the lock and then zipped over to the couch while he counted from outside. As she arranged blankets around herself, burrowing deep into the softness, Alistair reached five.

  “I’m coming in now.”

  The door creaked open, and he poked a head in. His lopsided grin nearly split her in two. “Nice place,” he said.

  “Thanks. Now what do you want?”

  He stepped inside hesitantly, looking around at her apartment as if it were more museum than functional, economical living arrangement. “May I sit down?”

  She pointed to an arm chair near the couch. He eased into the seat, nodding slowly.

  “Did you live here when you worked with me?”

  She shook her head. “I had to downsize.”

  “Because you’re in school now?”

  “Yes. I’m not working anymore. I don’t have time to do both.” She sniffed. “So? State your case. Your time is running out.”

  He smoothed his palms over the knees of his dark jeans. “Is this a court room?”

  “After you involved your lawyer, I involved mine. Mine just happens to be myself, in this living room.” She pursed her lips.

  “I’m sorry for that.” He raked his hand through his hair. She could still remember just how glorious it felt to do that. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. I just couldn’t waver on my position. I thought that if you were completely cut out, and I didn’t run the risk of hearing your voice or getting any calls from you, that I would be able to finally get over you.”

  “Well, apparently that didn’t work,” she said quietly.

  “No. It failed. I followed my plan exactly as I wanted. And it…sucks.” He let out a small laugh.

  A grin flickered at her lips, but she squashed it. “It’s not often you admit you designed something poorly.”

  “I was all wrong about this one,” he said, meeting her gaze shyly. “What happened in Austria was…both the best and worst time of my life.” He scrubbed at his face, sinking deeper into the arm chair. “Can you understand? Everything was so volatile. I felt betrayed. But mostly because I never wanted to lose my freedom…and somehow, over the course of that accident, I had signed it all away.”

  “I never once tried to take away any freedoms, personal or otherwise,” she said, holding up
her hands. “That’s on you.”

  “Yeah. I know.” He nodded. “I just thought that falling in love would make me less free. It felt like a prison that I couldn’t escape from. But really…” He paused, his icy blue eyes raking over her. “I made the prison myself.”

  “Is this about your new fiancée?”

  He hefted with a laugh. “Yes. But also no. She’s exactly what I asked for. And it turns out I hate exactly what I asked for.”

  Jess bit back a smile. “Fancy that.”

  They watched each other for a moment, tension crackling through the air. But it wasn’t all bad. There was some sort of amusement there, like the old times creeping in. Back when they could communicate just by glancing at each other from across the office.

  “I don’t want to be with just anyone,” he said after a comfortable pause. “I want to be with you. Because I love you, Jess. I’m in love with you, so much that I think about you even when I’m positive I’m not thinking about you.”

  Her throat tightened, and she burrowed deeper in the blankets, partially hiding her face.

  “I know you walked away from the company, and you have your own life now. You have this apartment, you’re studying architecture—”

  “I never told you that,” she interjected.

  “I did some research,” he admitted. “It wasn’t hard to find. You’re on the program website. I’m not asking you to give any of this up. I just wonder if there could be room in your life for me.”

  She brushed away a tear that had spilled, desperate to look away from him but unable to break his gaze. She could look at Alistair for her entire life and still want just a little bit more.

  “Why now?”

  “Because I’ve finally realized what a colossal mistake I made. Because I’m leaving B3. Because I realized that the prison I had put myself in didn’t have to last forever.”

  She blinked a few times. “You’re what? You’re leaving the company?”

  “I am.” He folded his fingers together. “I gave control of my stocks to my brothers. Everything is still in place, they just own my shares.”

  “You’re not beholden to the fiancée arrangement anymore?” she murmured, the news traveling through her like electricity.

  “No. That’s behind me. Abby moved out two weeks ago. My brothers are okay with the decision, but…this isn’t about them. This is about what I want to create with you.”

  Her eyes welled up, her entire body vibrating with emotion. This was too much. This was better than she could have ever imagined. This was beyond her wildest dreams.

  “I just want to be the man who gets to love you,” he said, his voice so raw that it nearly broke her heart.

  More tears escaped, and she wiped them away hastily. There was no way she could hide the truth now. Alistair had to know.

  “Alistair, I love you, but there’s something I have to tell you.” She drew a ragged breath, preparing herself for the moment. She’d imagined it so many times, but that still didn’t come close to this. “Come over here.”

  Alistair stood, coming to the edge of the couch. She pushed the blankets aside, looking up at him. Her large tunic covered the growing bump, so she stood up to face him, their bodies just inches apart.

  “Feel this.” She guided his hands to her stomach, pressing the flat planes of his hands against the swell of her belly. Realization seeped through him, eyes widening, mouth dropping open.

  “You have a daughter in here,” she whispered through tears. “So if you want both of us, we’re yours.”

  Alistair took her face between his hands, and she wasn’t sure what came first, the whoop of laughter or the flurry of kisses.

  Epilogue

  “Jess, are you home?” Alistair pushed into the apartment, the cozy little nest Jess had created for herself. He’d long since sold the penthouse and relocated most of his things to storage. This place, for now, was the perfect home to welcome their little one. Once the baby was a few months old, they’d start looking at an upgrade.

  “In here.” She came out of the bedroom, her big belly jutting out from underneath her T-shirt. This was his favorite part of every day: getting to greet that big belly with kisses and rubs after any amount of time apart.

  “There are my two loves,” Alistair cooed, pressing his lips to Jess’s, and then against her belly. “I have some news, darling.”

  “What’s that?” She wiped some hair away from her face, fanning herself despite the fact that the air was on. Summer had crested unseasonably warm, and with just days until she hit her due date, Jess was feeling every degree of the temperature.

  “The college hired me.” He squeezed her sides when she squealed. They hugged tightly, her encouraging words lifting him even higher into the stratosphere.

  “I’ll start fall semester,” he said. “Alistair Beaumont, Professor of Innovative Design. Bloody hell, that has a ring to it, don’t you think?”

  “Such a good ring I thought you were a bell,” she teased, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m so proud of you!”

  “Now that I’ll be a professor and you’ll be enrolled as a student, we can enact all those dirty schoolgirl fantasies you told me you had.” He cackled, squeezing one of her butt cheeks.

  “Meet me in the library for a blowjob,” she cracked.

  “Maybe I can grab lunch in the food court and dessert between your legs?”

  They both laughed, which dissolved into more kisses. This change of lifestyle he’d enacted had been a serious one-eighty, but every step of the way felt perfectly right.

  “I’m so happy for you, but I need to go sit down and be happy for you now,” Jess said, waddling toward the couch. “Five minutes on my feet was enough.”

  “Don’t overdo it, darling,” Alistair said, helping her ease down onto the couch. She winced as she lowered onto the couch, her hand going to her belly.

  “I’m just happy spring semester is over,” she said, “because now we’ll both have the summer for maternity and paternity leave. Maybe we can even explore some more state parks once I’m recovered from the delivery.”

  “When you’re ready, love.” He eased onto the couch next to her, stroking the back of her neck lazily. “Don’t want to push it just to keep up with our bucket list.”

  “I think this baby is coming soon,” she said, her voice sounding oddly tight. She paused, squinting at something in the distance. “Like…maybe really soon.”

  “Jess?”

  She blinked a few times, a strange expression crossing her face, one he’d never seen before. And then she said, “Holy shit, Alistair. I just started having contractions.”

  His eyes widened, his gaze falling to her big belly. They’d prepared for this moment what felt like a hundred times. The bags were packed; the doctor was on speed dial. But more than that, he was at his love’s side, ready to help her welcome in the most important and exciting part of their lives.

  Tears pricked his eyes, and he kissed Jess’s face over and over. “It’s time to meet little Marigold. Our greatest adventure yet.

  End of The Billionaire’s False Fiancée

  The Beaumont Brothers Book Two

  Blurb

  Conall Beaumont, CEO and COO of B3 Motors, was just about to propose to the woman of his dreams when it all went south. Turns out, the lady had a habit of killing her husbands, so Conall will have to look elsewhere if he wants to find a wife. It just so happens that the stunningly beautiful woman who witnessed his humiliation is the daughter of the lawyer who’s executing his grandfather’s will—a will Conall would do just about anything to get his hands on in order to save his company and the livelihoods of the people who work for him. If putting his hands on a beautiful woman will get him closer to that goal, then he’s game. Besides, there’s something about Bernadette Rowland that has him thinking she could be more than just a pawn in his grandfather’s game.

  Bernadette wasn’t looking for a man, but when Conall inserted himself into her life, she did
n’t put up much of a struggle. He’s sexy and smart and seems genuinely interested in her work as a wolf researcher. Bernadette can’t resist his charm and before long, she’s swept up into a world far away from the isolation and loneliness of the Montana wilderness. But just when she thinks she’s found someone who could be her mate for life, she discovers the real reason he’s been piling on the charm, and their perfect romance crumbles.

  Can two people who are worlds apart find happiness together or are they each destined for life as a lone wolf?

  1

  Connall Beaumont tipped the top-shelf whisky past his lips, staring at his reflection in the wall-to-wall mirror behind the bar. Every time he came here, he watched his gloomy reflection in the mirror, wondering why do they do that? Was it a narcissistic thing, a way for top executives to ogle themselves as they came for self-congratulatory drinks? This drink wasn’t congratulatory. This drink was advance mourning. This whisky tasted like defeat. And he’d been drinking here every Friday for the past few weeks.

  He didn’t want to call it a habit as much as a reaction. His company, B3 Engines, was on the brink of dissolving. Less than two months remained before his dead grandfather’s will was executed, which would sell off the majority shares to outside investors. The entire fate of the company hung in the balance. Nobody could say who would buy them out, what they might want with B3. How many workers they might let go.

  Connall and his brother Gregor would lose the business they’d started with Alistair, the business born of blood and sweat and tears. What could Connall say to the workers, who worried over their futures, their stability, their families? That hurt more than anything. That a stupid legal clause, mere words on a paper, could strip him and his business of confidence. Of surety. Of forward-thinking stability. Of his own ability to reassure his employees, on whom the entire success of the business depended, that they could count on him.