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

Page 6

by Mia Caldwell


  He didn’t want to disturb her, but he couldn’t just stand there waiting to see if she were truly asleep or not. The situation left him disoriented. If ever there were a man unaccustomed to indecision, it was Ian Buckley. He’d built a pharaoh's fortune on the ability to make quick, smart decisions.

  It shouldn’t have surprised him, though, since it had been a day packed with the unusual and unlikely. He shouldn’t even be standing on the path right then; he should have been back in the city, overseeing the investigation into the marriage license debacle.

  But he hadn’t managed to work for even a whole hour after Jada had left. He wanted to see her again, ASAP, and there’d been no convincing himself to wait any longer.

  As a concession to appearances, he’d decided to drive out to the lake cabin, rather than having the helicopter take him when it returned for Jada’s cat and clothes. The last thing he wanted was to look eager, and the drive would give him a chance to cool off.

  Now, here he was, but he wasn’t any cooler. If anything, he was worse than before. It was ridiculous, really, that a tiny woman like Jada could have him unsure and hesitant.

  He squared his shoulders and turned to Billy. “I’ll take everything. You can go on your way. Thanks.”

  “As you wish, Sir.” Billy handed over the rods and reels, the tackle box, net, and the small cooler. He frowned at Ian’s overloaded arms. “I don’t mind toting your stuff, Sir. That’s an awful lot and—”

  Ian’s brows shot up. “Are you implying I’m too old and feeble to carry my own fishing gear, young man?”

  “Oh, Gawd, no. I didn’t mean that. I just meant ... never mind. I’m on my way, Sir. Sorry.”

  Ian grinned as he watched the kid beat a swift retreat up the path. He shouldn’t have given poor Billy a hard time, but sometimes he couldn’t help himself. It was good for him, anyway. Kept him on his toes.

  Ian turned toward the dock again, not a hundred feet away. Was Jada asleep? He straightened up. Only one way to find out.

  He marched down the path and onto the dock, his soft-soled shoes making little sound. As he came up beside Jada’s relaxed form, he skidded to a halt. Sure enough, her eyes were closed. She was asleep. Damn.

  He stood stock still. Now what? Well, if nothing else, he could take advantage of the opportunity to look at her as long as he wanted.

  She was lovely, her features peaceful and soft in sleep. She had the tiniest smile on her full lips and he thought she must be dreaming something pleasant. He eyed her graceful limbs, both arms and legs bare in the warm sunshine, gleaming a golden, satiny brown in the afternoon light. She had the softest-looking, most velvety skin that begged to be stroked.

  He deliberately avoided looking at her chest, realizing he was being kind of pervy as it was. Indeed, the notion of himself as a peeping Tom didn’t suit him, so he decided the best thing for everyone involved was to accidentally drop the tackle box.

  The box landed on the wooden planks with a thud and a loud jangle of interior contents. Jada’s eyes flew open and she jerked upright in her seat. She looked down at the box, then up at Ian, confusion obvious on her face.

  “Sorry,” Ian said, slowly lowering the rest of the gear onto the dock. “I guess I dropped the box. Sorry if I woke you.”

  She smiled then, a wide, half-sleepy smile and dropped against the back of the lounger. She stretched her arms over her head and yawned. “Oh, it’s you. I was dreaming about you.”

  “You were?”

  “Yeah, I—” her expression changed and she dropped her arms, sat upright. “What did I just say?”

  “You said you were dreaming about me.”

  “I did? How embarrassing. Well, I was still kind of asleep. I wasn’t thinking right. Forget about that.”

  “If you say so.” Ian gave her a roguish smile. “But I’d rather remember if it’s all the same to you.”

  She looked down at her lap, tugged on the hem of her shorts self-consciously. “No. It’s best we both forget it.”

  She was adorable, Ian thought. “Forget what?”

  She tilted her head and gave him a sideways look. “I’m surprised to see you. I didn’t know you were coming. I hope I’m not in your way.”

  He realized she was referring to the fishing gear. “No. I was hoping you’d join me. Do you fish?”

  She swiveled on the lounger, knees touching primly as she perched on the side, eying the gear. “I do, sometimes. I’ll join you, but only if there’s beer in that cooler.”

  He bent down, popped open the lid and gestured to the contents. “Your wish is my command.”

  “Yeah, that’s apparently true for everyone at this place,” she said drily.

  “Staff been smothering you?”

  “Yep. But I’m not complaining. They’re very nice. I blame you, actually.”

  “You do?”

  “They’re motivated people who don’t have enough to do. That’s your fault. You should send them more guests to care for.”

  “I’ll think about it. Glad you’re here to set things straight.”

  Jada shrugged. “You’re welcome.”

  “Now that you’ve got that squared away, shall we get going?”

  “We’re not fishing here?”

  “I thought we’d go out in a boat. I know all the good spots.”

  “It’s a bad time. They won’t be biting.”

  “Hey. You do know something about fishing.”

  Jada stood. “I’ll go in the boat, but you have to promise not to get my new clothes wet or dirty. Deal?”

  He scanned her head to toe. “I’ll do my best. You look very pretty, by the way.”

  She glanced down in embarrassment. “Thanks.”

  Ian wanted to kick himself. He’d gone and made the situation awkward. He tried to cover it by picking up the gear. Jada took the poles and followed him in silence.

  It was only a few moments before they were at the nearest boat dock. Ian dropped his gear in one of the trim rowboats and relieved Jada of the rods.

  Jada took in the craft from bow to stern. “A rowboat? Really? I expected a shiny speed boat with all the bells and whistles.”

  He was glad to hear her teasing tone. “There’s not a speed boat on the property, I’m sorry to say. We do have a few small motor boats, but we don’t use them much. We keep the noise and stress on the fish and other wildlife to a minimum.”

  “You’re telling me you use rowboats so you don’t upset the wildlife but you have a helicopter buzzing in and out of here all day?”

  “Got me there. Though, usually there’s not quite so much use of the helicopter.”

  “Thanks, by the way, for sending my cat and getting me all that stuff. I kind of don’t know what to say. It’s so generous, I—”

  “Don’t say anything. I was happy to do it, and it was no trouble.”

  He held out his hand to help her into the boat and when she touched him, he got the same jolt of electricity he’d gotten in his office that morning. Part of him was excited by the repetition, another part warned him that too much attraction could be dangerous.

  Jada hardly used his assistance, stepping into the boat with the balance of an old pro. He followed suit, untied from the dock and began rowing them toward a favored fishing spot on the other side of the lake.

  Jada sat ladylike and demure on the wooden bench in the boat’s aft. Ian sat in the fore and pulled at the oars, trying not to stare at the lovely woman.

  “It’s so beautiful out here,” she said, looking past him toward the far shore. “My parents would go crazy for it.”

  “Your parents enjoy the outdoors?”

  “We were always camping when I was growing up. When my parents retired, they sold their house, bought a jalopy RV with some of the funds, and headed out to see the country. Basically, they’re full-time campers now.”

  “So that’s why you’re an experienced fisher-woman who’s at ease in a rowboat.”

  “Yep.”

  Ian worke
d the oars gently, in no hurry to get anywhere, content to amble for a change, instead of rushing, his usual way.

  “I don’t see any other houses along the shoreline.” She squinted off into the distance.

  “No, the lake and all the surrounding property is mine.”

  “Wow. Mr. Forest said your grandfather left all this to you.”

  “That’s right, most of it. There were a few tracts of lakeside property he still hadn’t been able to purchase before he passed away. I’ve since bought the last ones.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at the house. “I can’t believe you call that a cabin. Is that rich folk speak, or what?”

  He barked a short laugh. “No. Though I kind of wish it was now. Actually, it’s part of the history of the property.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “I don’t want to bore you with old family stories.”

  “That’s okay. They’re my family now, too, remember?”

  He laughed again. “That’s right. I keep forgetting.”

  “Shame on you.” Her smile was bright enough to blind him.

  “I apologize. Do you want to hear the story or not?”

  “I said I did.”

  He took a break from paddling and crossed the oars over his lap, turning his full attention to his pretty companion. “My grandfather grew up in the city. His father deserted the family when Grandfather was a small child, and as a result, they were very poor. He quit school early to help support his mother and siblings, worked hard, endlessly really, and eventually opened his own business. Then he worked harder, built it up and opened more businesses, and so on. He was a true American success story.”

  “Whenever I hear a story like that, I marvel at the kind of person it must take to overcome those kinds of hardships,” Jada said.

  “I can tell you what kind. I spent my summers with him out here when I was a child. Grandfather was a hard old bastard, tough and ruthless, that’s what.”

  “Oh, that’s disappointing.”

  “Think about it, though. He had to be hard to get where he got.”

  “I suppose. It’s just kind of sad.”

  Ian smiled gently. “Don’t be too sad. I’m not done with my story yet.”

  “Okay. Go on.”

  “So, when my grandfather was experiencing his first financial successes, he celebrated by purchasing a small lot outside of town next to a lovely little lake that had yet to be discovered by moneyed city people.”

  “This place?”

  “Right. It was a small lot, and over the next few years, on whatever time he could spare away from business, he built a log cabin from trees on the property that he felled himself. As time passed and he became even more financially successful, he bought up adjoining lots. Eventually, he owned a huge swath of land that nearly encircled the lake.”

  “And what was left, you later bought,” Jada said.

  “That’s right. Unlike a lot of successful businessmen, Grandfather Buckley set a monetary goal he wanted to reach with his businesses, and when he finally hit it, he promptly sold out and retired. He was around sixty years old then. He moved out here permanently, and began transforming the property into what you see today.”

  “Did he enjoy working out here?”

  “He loved it. He told me that he’d always thought the measure of a man’s success depended on his ability to carve out his own niche in the world while having the power to tell anyone who tried to keep him from it to go straight to hell.”

  “Good one,” Jada said.

  “So back to you being sorry he was a tough man. Well, look around the place. He made this happen, the docks, the paths, the bubbling brooks, the conservation efforts, and yes, the huge house over there. Whenever I take a moment to appreciate the place, I’m reminded that there can be fanciful romanticism in even the hardest, most ruthless of men.”

  Jada’s eyes glistened and she slowly looked around the shoreline and toward the house. “You’re right. He was a romantic at heart, wasn’t he?”

  “One of the biggest, in part of it, anyway.”

  She smiled at him. “I’m not sad anymore.”

  “Good, because he lived a long, happy life and on his own terms for most of it. And he died surrounded by family who loved him even though he could be a mean old bastard. The rest of us should be so lucky.”

  Ian picked up the oars and began leisurely rowing again.

  “That was a great story,” Jada said.

  “Thank you.”

  “Is it actually true?”

  Chapter Eight

  IAN BURST OUT LAUGHING. “DAMN, Jada. What do you take me for? Do you think I’d lie about something like that?”

  “I don’t know. Would you? It’s kind of tidy. Complete with a moral and everything. In my experience, life is never that tidy.”

  “Are you sure your name isn’t Jaded?”

  “Haha. Like I’ve never heard that one before. But seriously, you had to make some of that up.”

  “Okay, you got me. Grandfather’s father didn’t abandon him. He was a mason and made a good living and even sent grandfather to college. He also gave grandfather the seed money to start his first business and bailed him out more than once in the early years. There. That’s all. The rest of it’s true, I swear. Story’s not as good, though, without the rags to riches beginning.”

  “I don’t know. I think it’s still pretty great. I don’t see why we make the most fuss out of those who start with nothing. Sometimes, it can be harder to motivate yourself toward greatness when you’ve got it easy, when you don’t have to fight for every scrap of food and every dollar in your pocket. It’s hard to work for something, when you want for nothing.”

  Ian’s heart gave a hard thump. Was she talking about him? “Yeah, well, most people don’t see it that way.”

  “They probably just haven’t thought about it much. If they did, they’d see that it’s so.”

  He admired her certainty, even as he doubted that she was right. He realized he’d arrived at the spot near the south shore that he’d been heading for and secured the oars.

  Jada needed no instruction from him on preparing the rods and reels. She baited her own hook with one of Mrs. Best’s famous stinky dough balls without comment or complaint. Then she made an expert cast, leaving Ian impressed, though he didn’t embarrass her by saying so.

  He launched his own baited hook a good distance away then opened a couple of beers and handed one to Jada.

  She took a long drink from the icy bottle and sighed. “That’s delicious. I don’t recognize the brand.”

  “I special order it from Germany.”

  She inspected the bottle and label, then took another drink and looked off toward the house. “Hey, I still don’t know why you call that behemoth a cabin.”

  “It’s because, technically, it is the cabin. Or, it’s where the cabin once stood. It sat where the theatre and bowling alley are now. Grandfather lived in the cabin while they built the new house, and they didn’t tear it down until a section of the new house was livable enough to move into.”

  “Oh, too bad. He should have kept the cabin as a reminder of his beginnings.”

  “I thought so too, but I was just a kid and he wouldn’t listen to me. He said that rise there was the best place to build on the entire property, and he wasn’t going to put his dream house on the second best spot just to keep a ramshackle cabin that nobody would live in again.”

  “Funny. So the building’s gone, but the name lives on.”

  “There you have it.”

  They sipped their beers. Ian’s bobber shook. He was getting a nibble, so perhaps all the fish weren’t napping after all. The shaking stopped. Apparently the fish wasn’t hungry enough to do more than taste.

  “So, um,” Jada said, hesitancy in her tone, “I didn’t realize you’d be coming out here with me. Not that I’m not glad to see you, I am, but I know you’re busy and I’m surprised to find myself hanging out with you.”
<
br />   “I hadn’t planned to come, but Sullivan pointed out that I’d be housebound all weekend because of the press and we’re not likely to learn anything about the fake marriage license until Monday anyway, when government gets back to work.”

  “What do you think happened? Why you? Or why me? It doesn’t make any sense. I try to figure it out, but I’ve got no clue. Do you have any theories?”

  “My guess is one of us has an enemy who wants to make life difficult.”

  “I didn’t consider that. Hmm. I don’t think I have any enemies, Ian. Not that everyone loves me on sight, but I can’t imagine who would have an ax to grind with me. I don’t mix it up with people.”

  Ian ratcheted in his line a few clicks. “It’s far more likely that if someone’s bent on revenge, it’d be someone with a grudge against me. Unlike you, I’m always mixing it up.”

  Jada smiled. “Kinda goes with a shark’s territory, I guess.”

  He returned her smile. “I’m not a shark. I’m just misunderstood.”

  “You’ve got pretty sharp teeth for a non-shark.”

  “They’re caps.”

  Jada laughed, a bright and cheerful sound that made something in Ian’s gut tighten. God, he wanted to kiss her so badly it hurt. He took a long swig of beer instead.

  They chatted more, keeping the topics light and fun. Jada drank two beers before saying she’d had enough, and admitted she couldn’t hold her liquor, which charmed Ian so much he couldn’t quit smiling and was certain he looked half-daft.

  Jada caught a small fish, which Ian released back into the lake for her so she wouldn’t get slimy and mess up her new clothes. Ian almost caught a fish, but let it slip the hook so Jada wouldn’t have to worry about splashes.

  The sun had dipped behind the big house when Ian thought to check his watch. He was shocked to see they’d been out for several hours.

  “We should get back,” he said with regret. “Mrs. Best will have dinner ready in a while. We’ll have just enough time to get cleaned up.”

  He was pleased to see that Jada appeared as sorry to end the excursion as he was, taking her time breaking down her equipment. She even took her time cleaning her hands with the pre-moistened towels he gave her.

 

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