Alpha Billionaire’s Bride, Part One (BWWM Romance Serial)

by Mia Caldwell

  “It’s been a pleasure meeting you,” Ian said, covering her hand with both of his own warm, larger ones. “You’ll find my private number in your new phone. Call me if you have any problems, okay?”

  She nodded. “I will.”

  “Goodbye, for now, then.” He waved a hand at Cathy.

  And it was all kind of strange suddenly. It was such an abrupt ending. The next thing Jada knew, Cathy was ushering her toward the door. Jada hardly had time to turn briefly in the doorway before she was swept away into the outer offices.

  Her last sight of Ian was of him standing, backlit by the huge windows. He was looking straight at her and was wearing that odd expression again. What was it, anyway? What did it mean? It was wistful, maybe. Lonely? No, that couldn’t be it.

  Billionaires couldn’t possibly be wistful or lonely.

  Before she could get examine him further, Cathy moved her onward, shutting the door behind them.

  Jada wondered if she’d ever see Ian again.

  Chapter Five

  IAN WATCHED JADA GO. HE wanted to call her back, ask her to hang out, have some lunch. Impossible. He didn’t know what he was thinking.

  “I like her,” Sullivan said, “although she’s completely wrong about Miss Kitty. Outrageous. It was all I could do not to argue. I hope you appreciate the deference I gave her as your wife.”

  Ian snorted, then strolled over to the windows. “When do you think we’ll get some answers on this thing?”

  “I don’t know. It’s the weekend, and government doesn’t do weekends like we civilians do. I’m thinking the earliest would be sometime Monday, and that’s if we’re lucky.”

  Ian didn’t respond, simply stared off toward the small bend of the river that was in sight. He found himself watching the river more and more these days, considering how the water moved, traveling incessantly, ever in motion.

  “We don’t need you around to take care of this, you know,” Sullivan said.

  “What?”

  “Why don’t you head out to the lake cabin yourself? Relax for a few days. You won’t be able to go out in public, anyway, not with this story having everyone lathered up. It’d be nice to get a breather. You work too hard, my friend.”

  Ian perked up. It was an appealing idea. It would be nice to have a few days to fish and relax, eat some of Mrs. Best’s home cooking.

  And spend some time with one Jada Howarth.

  That was it, wasn’t it? He really just wanted to go because she would be there. She intrigued him. It didn’t hurt that she was achingly attractive. He thought his brain had stopped working when she walked into his office. The television certainly hadn’t done her justice.

  She’d worn her hair in a simple, sleek ponytail. Her makeup was light, serving as accent and not distracting from her elegant features. She had on a simple, lovely spring dress that showed off her bare, slender arms. The skirt was demurely cut, just below her knees, and she had the most shapely, delicate calves and ankles that begged to be stroked. Her small feet nestled in classic, low heels.

  And she smelled like flowers.

  Jada was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and he’d seen a lot of beautiful women in his time. Hell, he’d dated a lot of them. And slept with most.

  None of them matched Jada. It wasn’t simply that she had lovely features and flawless, glowing coffee skin. It was her as a whole. It was like she had an aura or an inner magnet that drew him to her.

  The idea of spending time at the lake cabin with her was tempting. He shouldn’t do it. She was a small-town girl, pulled into something out of her control. She was probably scared and worried, though she didn’t show it. She was brave that way.

  He should stay away, for her own good if not for his. Good, brave girls didn’t belong in his world. He should do the right thing and save her. He should.

  He turned back to Sullivan. “I have been wanting to get in some fishing.”

  Sullivan smiled. “Yeah. Fishing. That’s it.”

  “And it wouldn’t be a bad thing to suss Ms. Howarth out a little more, make sure she’s not behind any of this. I can’t leave until later today though. And I can’t stay long. I’ll come back here tomorrow afternoon. Things to do.”

  “If you say so. If it was me, I’d take a nice long break.”

  Ian felt buoyed up. He turned and clapped Sullivan on the shoulder. “That’s because you lawyers don’t have much of a work ethic. It comes from charging clients by the billable hour, instead of an actual working hour.”

  Sullivan rolled his eyes. “Hold on.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “What the — why is Agatha Brimgore texting me? Oh hell no. God, look at all those exclamation points.”

  Ian grinned. Yep, this was turning out to be not so bad a day after all.

  THE HELICOPTER DOVE TOWARD THE ground and Jada dug her fingernails into the cushioned arm rest. The pilot could be more cautious in his approach, she thought, but this was her first trip in a helicopter so what did she know?

  She did know that it was horribly loud even with headphones on. And she knew that they appeared to be landing on the front lawn of a fancy resort. A large white structure resembling a vastly overgrown lake house, complete with green shutters and wrap-around porch, loomed ahead.

  She yelled into her mic. “You’ve gone to the wrong place, Raul. I’m staying at a cabin. A caaa-biiin. Not a resort.”

  The pilot shot her a glance and nodded. “That’s right,” came his crackly reply in her headphones.

  That wasn’t any kind of answer. She would have asked again, but he’d pulled up the copter and was settling into a slow descent. Whether this was the right place or not, they were landing.

  Jada had a sudden fear that perhaps Raul didn’t really work for Ian after all, that Cathy had put her on the wrong helicopter and Jada was in the hands of a rogue reporter. Determined to get the scoop on her story no matter the cost, he’d hold her up in this fancy-pants hotel until she gave him an exclusive.

  Of course, that was utter nonsense. Jada had been picked up on the roof of the Buckley Tower itself, and Cathy had introduced her to Raul. Jada wondered if she’d been spending too much time with her sister and some of her fancifulness was rubbing off.

  Raul set them down smoothly on a pad of stone pavers with hardly a bump. He powered down the rotors and Jada noted a tall, older man standing beyond the edge of the landing site. His silver hair sparkled in the sunlight. He waved at her and jogged toward them.

  “Here you are ma’am,” Raul said. “Mr. Forest will take care of you. Have a nice stay.”

  Jada stared him down. “But this isn’t a cabin.”

  “Of course not, ma’am.”

  Her door opened and she turned to see the waving man, Mr. Forest she presumed, smiling at her. He held out his hand.

  Jada felt she had no choice. She took off her headphones, gathered up her small bag and purse and let Mr. Forest help her down to the ground. He closed the door behind her then touching her arm, escorted her away from the God-awful noise and wind.

  By the time Jada was in the clear, she thought her hearing would never be the same, and she was glad she’d worn her hair in a ponytail that day though she wasn’t thrilled about having chosen a dress to wear.

  Before she could clear any of the misunderstanding up about where she was, the helicopter lifted up off the pad. Raul was leaving already.

  She waved at him wildly, knowing he couldn’t hear, but thinking she had to try. “Don’t go! I’m not supposed to be here!”

  Mr. Forest patted her shoulder. “There’s no mistake, Miss. Not as long as you’re Jada Howarth. That is who you are, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, of course. But I was going to a lake cabin. I see a lake over there, but that mansion is no cabin.”

  Mr. Forest smiled kindly. “Ah, well, you had no way of knowing. You’re right, that’s not a cabin. But we do call this place the lake cabin. It’s part of the history. I’m sorry you were worried. Someon
e should have explained. Can I take your bag?”

  “Uh, okay. Thanks.” She handed over the small bag but kept her purse. “So, I’m actually staying here?”

  “That’s right, Miss. I’m Jack Forest, the head caretaker. I’m in charge when Mr. Ian’s away and I manage the property. Come to the house so I can introduce you to everyone, then we’ll get you settled in.”

  Jada goggled at the scene as Mr. Forest led her up a stone path toward the “house.” He rattled on about how they kept the grounds as natural as possible, encouraging the native grasses and wildflowers to flourish at will. Paths with open borders were kept clear for easy walking and led wherever anyone might want to go.

  It was a picture-perfect day, brilliant with a bright spring sun and cloudless blue skies. The lake shimmered nearby, a number of docks speckling its shoreline, nestling among the waving reeds and cattails. It was a good-sized lake yet she could easily see the far side of it. Not far from the water line, it was ringed on three sides with dense, leafy old-growth forest.

  Mr. Forest told her the property was purchased originally by Ian’s grandfather and that Ian had inherited it upon his death. Jada wondered what it would be like to come from money like that, to be given something as vast as this place. Had Ian spent summers here as a child? What must that have been like? She couldn’t imagine, though she thought it had to have been wonderful.

  Her new phone buzzed in her purse. Another text from Marina: “RU there yet?”

  She sent a response saying she was, and that she’d call her when she was settled in. She marveled as they crossed over the most adorable white, wooden bridge that arched over a clear-watered babbling brook. It wound its way down to the lake and, like a storybook creek, came complete with moss-covered stones and ... was that a school of tiny, silver-finned fish swimming by?

  Her attention soon fell entirely on the huge building they approached. It was magnificent and she wondered how many rooms it had. Loads and loads. It had to, because it stretched for what seemed like forever and was three stories tall and probably had attic space, too. Yet for all its considerable size, it was welcoming and warm-looking, not stately and cold like some estates she’d seen in movies and pictures. It truly was like someone had taken the plans for a charming, clapboard lake house and super-sized them.

  A veranda fronted the lovely manor, complete with wooden swings and white loungers with floral cushions and tables topped with glass. Brilliant potted flowers hung from the eaves and a wide set of steps led down to the circular stone drive. In front of the steps stood a line of ten or so people. They all faced Jada.

  She faltered. They were smiling gaily, but it was embarrassing nonetheless. Mr. Forest gave her a reassuring look and Jada fought back her nerves.

  They stopped in front of the line and Mr. Forest gestured at everyone. “The staff of the estate would like to welcome you, Miss Jada. Let me introduce you.”

  First up was Mrs. Best, a middle-aged woman with a tight brown bun at the back of her head. She was dressed all in white, wore an apron, and unsurprisingly turned out to be the head cook.

  “Are you hungry, Miss?” she asked.

  “Well—”

  “Of course you are,” the beaming woman said. “As soon as you’re settled I’ll have something ready for you, don’t you worry. Do you have any allergies I should know about?”

  “Uh, no. Thanks.”

  “Good, good.”

  Next up was a pretty woman in her early thirties, Nina, the head housekeeper, followed by her young assistant, Elly, who also helped out Mrs. Best as needed.

  Nina explained they kept a small permanent staff and called in extra help only as needed. She assured Jada that Elly and she would take good care of Jada and her things, once her things actually arrived. Jada thanked them both.

  Mr. Forest introduced her next to Grover, the grounds and game keeper, a grizzled man of few words and gentle, green eyes. Then there was a nice-looking man around Jada’s age named Trevor who was in charge of maintenance. And Billy, who couldn’t yet be twenty, who helped out both Grover and Trevor as needed.

  Next up was Deb, a grinning, freckle-faced woman around Jada’s age. Turned out, Deb was the staff esthetician and masseuse.

  “Oh, I’m so happy to have you here,” Deb gushed. “I’ve got some new mud packs I’ve been dying to try out. And if you need any waxing, don’t hesitate to ask. Don’t hesitate to ask for anything, actually. I bet you’re all tightened up from what’s happened today. I know a number of relaxation techniques that’ll fix you right up. Maybe after Mrs. Best gets you fed we can—”

  Jada could only smile and get in an occasional nod to Deb’s speech. Mostly, she was thinking how incredible it was to have someone like Deb in a full time position. What did she do when Ian wasn’t here, or there weren’t any other guests? She thought this might explain why Deb was so thrilled to get to work on Jada.

  Finally, Mr. Forest introduced her to Lydia Pepper, a late twenty-something lady with dark eyes, hair and skin, and a professional, upright air. Lydia was head of security, which surprised Jada since she was so young. Lydia shook Jada’s hand solemnly and assured her she could traverse the grounds safely. Even if the press discovered Jada was here, they’d never get onto the property, not with Lydia’s crew around.

  Jada had no doubt the confident woman could handle the press and then some.

  Mr. Forest said there were a few other employees on the property, mostly part of the security staff, and that they would have liked to meet her but it either wasn’t their shift or they couldn’t leave their posts.

  Throughout the introductions, Jada nodded, smiled, accepted everyone’s handshakes and in general tried to act like this wasn’t a dream. Everyone was friendly, but for the life of her she couldn’t think of much to say to them other than thank you. What was the etiquette for being introduced to household staff? She wished she’d watched that British show everyone had been going on about, or at least caught old episodes of Upstairs, Downstairs.

  And that idea took her aback. Since when was she, Jada Howarth, part of the upstairs cast? She wasn’t, actually. She was a faker and a fraud, a guest here of necessity because of what was likely a technological snafu. Best she remember it. It wouldn’t be difficult; she was far more comfortable downstairs.

  Introductions over, everyone disbanded except for Mr. Forest and Elly. Mr. Forest asked for Jada’s phone and handed it to Elly.

  “Enter in everyone’s numbers, please, Elly,” he said. To Jada, he added, “We have an intercom system and use it regularly, but if you’re out and about or not near a com and you need one of us, just call or drop a text and we’ll come running, okay?”

  “Sure,” Jada said.

  “Come along then. I’ll give you quick tour of the house,” he said, ushering her toward the steps.

  Jada followed him on automatic. The home’s interior was even more gorgeous than the exterior. The entryway was airy and wide, the ceilings dizzyingly high and dotted with slow-moving fans at the ends of long, brass poles. A light breeze flowed into the rooms through tall, open windows, where gauzy fabrics rippled and filtered the sunlight which slanted over the polished wood floors.

  Mr. Forest led her through room after room, sitting rooms, dining rooms, bathrooms, studies, professional kitchen, larders, a dancing room of all things, a gym, a game room, even a theatre with a movie screen, and a small, two-lane bowling alley that somehow managed to be charming with its fresh, white decor and cheerful yellow walls. Indeed, all the rooms were decorated in a fresh, homey style, though the bright fabrics were of the finest quality, as were the woods, much of which appeared meticulously hand-crafted.

  Her favorite room on the ground floor was in the center of the building and opened onto the back lawns: an indoor pool. Clear water sparkled under the sunbeams pouring through skylights, gleaming on the azure bottom. The pool was rimmed with intricate tile work in shades of teal and deep blue. Tall, potted trees and shrubs lined the walls and s
cented the air with bark and leafy greenery.

  Best of all, a large whirlpool/hot tub was sunk into the floor in one corner of the room. The walls there were panels of glass, so you could sit in the tub and look out over the back lawn, across the waving grasses, all the way to the towering tree line. It was exquisite.

  Upstairs was mostly bedrooms, many of them suites complete with their own dressing rooms, giant walk-in closets and luxurious bathrooms. Most rooms had small balconies that overlooked the lake on one side of the building, or the sweeping back lawn on the other.

  Deb’s “office” was on the second floor and Jada barely got to peep inside at the padded tables and tubs before Mr. Forest moved her along.

  He gestured toward the end of one corridor and said the family suites were in that section, but didn’t take Jada to see them. She assumed that was where Ian stayed when he was here, where he slept. She got a disconcerting frisson of excitement when she thought of Ian stretched out in a kingly bed. She needed to get over it, she told herself. He was in the city. She’d probably never see him again.

  Mr. Forest told her there was storage on the third floor, and that was where staff rooms were as well, but he didn’t take her up for a tour, only showing her the staircase which lead to them. Lastly, Mr. Forest ushered her into a room and said it was hers. He said he’d give her a chance to freshen up then left her alone with Elly.

  Chapter Six

  ELLY HANDED JADA HER PHONE then bustled around the room. Jada’s room was huge, of course, like everything else in the place, complete with sitting area, vast closet and dressing room with a decked out vanity. The furniture was richly casual, light, bright colors dominating the drapery, bedding and upholstery. The queen sized bed had a romantically gossamer, draping canopy.

  The bathroom was a marvel with a multi-head shower nook that would have easily accommodated four people. There was also a deep bathtub, the old-fashioned kind with feet. Jada made plans to enjoy a long bubble bath later that evening.