The Masquerading Groom: Bachelor Billionaire Romance

by Taylor Hart

  She put it down, hating the fact she still ached everywhere. The doctor had told her she would be sore for a couple of days, but she had never anticipated this kind of soreness.

  Carefully and slowly, she pushed back the covers and pulled her feet to the side of the bed. Engaging her stomach muscles made her want to cry, but she had to go to the bathroom again.

  Sterling was here somewhere, but she didn’t want him to have to help her like some invalid. Just as she stood, he was there in the doorway staring at her.

  He rushed to her side. “Why didn’t you call out or something?” He put her arm over his shoulders and began helping her.

  It did help, tremendously.

  “I …” Words failed her.

  When they got to the hall, she realized he was playing her Neil Diamond record as America began.

  He grinned. “I like your music.”

  The nearness of him, coupled with the perfect facial hair and the light spicy scent of faded cologne intimidated her. She remembered his confession about his mother earlier and felt even shakier. “When did you shower?” She blurted out.

  He grinned. “I had my assistant bring some clothes, and I used your shower.” He pointed in the air at her. “Found your Parisian scent too.” His eyes gleamed in amusement.

  She sputtered as he finished getting her into the bathroom. “Yes, Parisian.” She overly enunciated, finding that the pain didn’t seem as bad when he was near her.

  He turned to go.

  She couldn’t help but ask. “Why did you kiss me?”

  “What?” He turned back.

  “You heard me.” It was a ridiculous conversation to have in the bathroom, but it’d been on her mind.

  A grin flashed onto his face. “Because I like you.”

  His words hit her, and something over and beyond the pain of losing her husband pushed through. “I don’t believe you.”

  Vulnerability; it was the only truth.

  Resting a hand on the bathroom counter, he stared at her. “Why not?”

  “Because you can have your pick of women.” She hated herself for doing it, but she pressed on. “I saw the gorgeous women at the party. Any of them would welcome a kiss from you.”

  Shaking his head, he turned to leave. “Not the right kind of women.” He shut the door behind him.

  Still shaky, she went to the bathroom. She felt sorer than she had the last time she’d been awake. It worried her. It didn’t suit her to feel so helpless.

  As she washed her hands, she heard the screen door open and Henry’s voice. She was relieved he was here.

  Staring in the mirror, she rubbed her face with a washcloth. Then she took a brush. She finally felt like she had the energy to brush out the mess, re-doing the ponytail at the nape of her neck. It didn’t look the best, but it was an improvement. She moved into the living room, wishing she could look better than she did with Sterling there.

  Henry was seated at the kitchen table and started to stand when she entered the room. “Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

  She knew she looked a sight, but she appreciated the sincere relief she saw in his eyes. The grumpy old guy had been a true friend to her. Many times they would go out on a short hike together after dinner. She would snap pictures, and he would fish. They didn’t talk much. But he knew more about her than anyone else around here. It was strange to her that his silence actually made her chattier.

  “Hey.” She smiled, stopping and looking at Sterling in the kitchen. He was scooping something that looked like a mixture of vegetables and some type of meat into bowls.

  Sterling grinned. “I’m just getting dinner done. I made the Cajun less spicy in case it was hard with your medication.” He nodded to the table. “Take a seat and join us.”

  Even though she was sore, sitting at the kitchen table appealed to her immensely. Yes, independence. She went to the chair and slowly sat.

  Sterling put the bowls on the table along with rolls and salad.

  It added another layer of strangeness he had prepared dinner. She frowned.

  “What?” Sterling stopped when he caught her gaze.

  She didn’t speak.

  Henry glanced at him and picked up his spoon. “Shoot, she’s wondering why pretty boy isn’t working on some movie set and having his personal chef juice up a wheat grass frappe-mocha for his dinner. I’m wondering the same thing.”

  Sterling turned to Sayla, who hadn’t picked up her spoon. “Does the food look okay?”

  She nodded. “It looks amazing. Thank you.”

  Sterling nodded. “Should we say grace?”

  Henry put down his spoon and took off his hat.

  She stared at Sterling for a second then frowned. “If you want to, go ahead.”

  Chapter 11

  Sterling didn’t know what to do.

  Henry saved the moment, simply bowing his head and saying, “Thank you, Lord, for this food and for Sayla’s recovery. And for this great nation. Amen.”

  “Amen.” Sterling said, but he noticed Sayla didn’t say anything.

  They all ate in silence for a few minutes, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. The record ended, and Sterling immediately got up and put on a new slow jazz record.

  Sayla didn’t meet his eyes, only looked intently on her food.

  He noticed she’d brushed her hair. It looked better. It made him happy her eyes were clear and her color had gone from pale to a lightly flushed.

  His phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and ignored it after a quick glance. His brother was getting very annoying and very crude in his insistence Sterling come home.

  “You can answer it,” Sayla said quietly.

  “It’s fine.” He frowned.

  “Who is it?” she asked in the same quiet voice.

  Startled by the fact she would even ask, he gave her the truth. “My brother.”

  Their eyes stayed connected.

  “Is everything okay?”

  Even though he was part of her very personal life at the moment, he didn’t really want her to be part of his. He pushed his phone back. “It’s fine.”

  Hesitating for a beat, Sayla turned to Henry. “Did the Milgrom group go out today?”

  Henry grunted and shoveled in another bite.

  Sayla nodded.

  Henry spoke with his mouth full. “They almost sank the durn boat too. Brought those five boys, and they rocked it so much it caused a small hole where I patched it last spring."

  Even though he sounded upset, Sterling could tell he wasn’t really angry.

  Henry snorted and laughed. “Those hellions had the gall to ask me when I would be taking them out fishing.”

  “And?” Sayla waited, holding her fork mid-bite and staring at Henry.

  Henry blushed. “I told ’em to come round next week and I’d take em out to find the biggest snapper they’d ever seen.” Another big grin. He gestured to her with his fork. “I told them the story of Wallaby Cane and the diamond mine under Old Fork’s Canyon.”

  Sayla smiled and took another bite. “You know they’re going to look for gold tonight.”

  Henry chortled

  Sterling found it interesting they were so relaxed and easy together. So different, yet so much like family.

  Henry suddenly seemed to realize they were having an actual conversation in front of him. He swerved a scowl in Sterling’s direction and took another bite.

  “It’s delicious,” Sayla said, turning to him.

  Other than the occasional simple snack for the Junto boys, Sterling never really cooked for anyone. The praise from Sayla was unexpectedly rewarding.

  “Thank you.”

  After dinner, Henry spoke alone with Sayla for a minute while Sterling started the dishes.

  “Okay,” said Henry. “I guess you can take care of her one more night. But don’t think I won’t be keeping an eye on the place. The scope on my thirty-thirty will let me see you oh so clearly.”

  “Stop it, Henry
,” said Sayla.

  Henry patted her shoulder and let himself out. Sterling helped Sayla back into her bed.

  She looked frustrated. “Can you get me a wet cloth and a brush?”

  “Of course.” He went to the bathroom and came back with the items she requested. His phone buzzed. After he handed her the items, he checked it.

  ‘Good news. Call me.’

  “Your brother?” she asked as she patted down her face with the wet cloth then ran it behind her neck.

  Abruptly, he was enthralled in what she was doing, and the urge to reach out and kiss her assaulted him. “My agent.” He replied as he put the phone back into his pocket.

  “Why don’t you seem happy?” She handed him the rag.

  “I’m fine.” He watched her wrestle with her hair. Before he knew what he was doing, he took the brush and began brushing her hair from the ends up.

  “How …” Her voice trailed off. “Thank you.”

  Gingerly, he tugged out her hair tie and then gently lifted her head and pulled her hair to the side.

  “Don’t tell me you played a hairdresser in a movie I missed?”

  He laughed. “Ah, no. Haven’t played that character yet.”

  She let out a soft laugh too.

  He shrugged. “As you’ve pointed out, I’ve dated a lot of women.”

  “Oh.” He felt her tense.

  Curious, he asked, “Did you date much before Rob?”

  She sighed, and he felt her relax again. “I dated once or twice in high school, but my early experiences in foster care made me resistant to the affections of men.”

  His mind went to the potential horrors of foster care.

  “I wasn’t abused, but I saw it when I was younger. I kind of became closed off. I didn’t want that kind of attention. Rob … well, it took me a long time to even date him. Even then we waited to, you know, until we got married. It was important to both of us.”

  He found this intriguing, and he appreciated it. “That’s cool.”

  She closed her eyes. “I can’t believe I’m telling my intimate secrets to Sterling Pennington, movie star, billionaire, the guy women across the country would give their eyeteeth to have brush their hair.”

  Not feeling at all like that was a compliment from her, he let it roll off of him. “I’m just a man.”

  “Yeah, a man who probably has a disturbingly large collection of eyeteeth back at home.”

  “You’re comparing women to eyeteeth, and I’m the disturbing one?” he asked, gathering her hair in a ponytail at the nape of her neck. “There, you’re done.” He kept the brush.

  Leaning back, she asked, “Why am I taking so long to recover? I shouldn’t be taking this long.”

  Sitting on the chair next to her, he softly put his hand on her forearm. “Sayla, you fell. I think the fall, compounded with the surgery, put your body under more stress. Sometimes recovery takes longer.”

  The side of her lip went up, and he could tell the pain meds were kicking in. “Tell me all about it, Doctor Pennington.”

  He grinned. He loved how she teased him. “Hey, I’m not a doctor, but you’re right. I did play one on T.V. once.”

  She let out a laugh. “What did your agent have to say? I saw you texting in the kitchen.”

  Not wanting to tell her, but knowing he had to, he said, “Harold wants me to fly to Alaska the day after tomorrow and stay for a few days. He wants to see what I can do behind the camera, see if I can cut it as a director.”

  “Nice,” she said enthusiastically.

  “I don’t think I should leave you.”

  Giving him a look, she frowned. “I’m fine. Thank you, but you don’t owe me anything.”

  It was hard to explain how he knew he didn’t owe her but that he wanted to be here.

  “We’ll see.” He noticed she was drifting off to sleep.

  The next morning, Sterling couldn’t wait for her to wake up. He’d called his assistant the night before and asked her to pick up a few things and bring them over to the house this morning.

  He’d also hooked up the television in her living room.

  Today he wasn’t just sitting in her room staring at her. He knew that made her feel uncomfortable.

  He had done one hundred push ups, sit-ups. Some up-downs. As quietly as possible.

  It was stupid, but he hadn’t decided on whether to go to Alaska or not. It didn’t feel right to leave Sayla.

  Or maybe he just didn’t want to.

  When he heard the shift in the floor in Sayla’s room, he held himself back from rushing to her aid.

  When she opened the door and stopped and smiled at him, his heart melted.

  “Morning, sunshine.” He quipped.

  A smile played on her lips, and he noticed she was walking slightly better today.

  “Morning.” She responded as she went into the bathroom.

  “You need help?”

  “Go away.”

  It made him smile to hear her frankness. He went to the bathroom door and knocked. “I think we need to change those bandages today, and I know you need help.”

  “You’re not helping me.” She called out.

  “Sayla …”

  “No.” Her voice was firm.

  “The doctor’s notes say you need help.”

  For a second she didn’t answer, then the door flew open, and she peeked her head out. “I am fine. It is fine if I shower, if I am careful not to get them wet. I have a trash bag. I will be careful. Go away.” She shut the door.

  He shook his head at her stubbornness. “You need to change the bandages.”

  “Not today.”

  Rolling his eyes, he went back to the kitchen and started her breakfast. Idiotic, stubborn, prideful. That’s what she was being. He could help her change them. He frowned and tried to think of who she would let help her.

  Thirty minutes later, he sat on the porch. He heard her open the bathroom door and then close the bedroom door.

  Relief washed over him. She was getting better.

  Then worry set in. Maybe after she was better, she wouldn’t want to hang out with him.

  If she had a choice.

  Standing, he went back into the living room and queued up the movie before going to the kitchen and starting some eggs and toast for her.

  When she came out, he could hear her pause in the living room. “What’s this?” She asked as she walked into the kitchen with a look of wonder on her face.

  Unable to contain his joy, he grinned back, noticing her wet hair and her radiant face. “You’re looking better.” He turned back to her eggs.

  “Sterling.” She pressed.

  He winked at her. “Well, you said I wouldn’t know anything about directing until I watched it.”

  A wide smile filled her face. She shook her head. “Man, if I could just sell the story of Sterling Pennington, softie, to the press.”

  He laughed.

  She blinked, and emotion hit him in the center of his chest. He was happy. Happier than he’d been in a long time. He finished her breakfast and gestured to the living room. “C’mon, it’s all ready.”

  Shaking her head, she followed him.

  He put her food on a chair next to the couch and helped her sit.

  Then he started the movie, sitting right next to her.

  Glancing at him, she smiled. “Don’t even think about putting the moves on me.”

  He laughed and put his arm on the couch behind her. “If you didn’t notice, Miss Jones, I’m in full move mode.” He held up a finger. “We are going to change those bandages soon.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re not coming anywhere near those bandages.”

  Their eyes met, and he could feel the intensity of their feelings heighten. He couldn’t help but smile at her stubborn will.

  The dialogue started, and he turned to see a redheaded, freckle-faced girl. “Oh, I can see why you liked this. It has a cute redhead, just like you.”

  She took a
bite of toast. “Okay, you’re laying it on thick, Mr. Pennington.”

  Resisting the urge to turn and watch her, he tried to watch the movie. All he really wanted to do was watch her.

  Man, maybe he was a stalker.

  After dinner, Henry and Sterling and Sayla were all sitting at the table, enjoying the homemade rigatoni Sterling had made.

  Sayla couldn’t help the fact she loved the way this movie star man looked at her. And hopped up every second to do things for her.

  She hadn’t felt so cared about since Rob.

  She shook her head and looked at her food, not liking those feelings.

  A truck pulled up to the house.

  “Who’s here?” Sayla asked.

  He stood and went to open the door. “A friend who will help you change out those bandages.”

  A beautiful redhead, with long curls flowing down her shoulders and bright blue eyes walked in. She was wearing yoga clothes and exercise shoes.

  Hunter James trailed after her.

  She hugged Sterling and then spotted Sayla over Sterling’s shoulder. Moving around him, she held her ground and planted her hands on her hips. “So this is the woman who slapped you?”

  Sayla’s heart picked up speed as she judged the highly amused look on the woman’s face. It was as if Sayla had suddenly met someone she knew was a friend but she’d never known before. Someone who was meant to be friends with her.

  She smiled.

  Henry glanced back and forth between them another deep scowl on his face. “What in tarnation is she talking about?”

  Sayla lifted a hand to Henry to silence him. “Nothing.”

  Summer gingerly moved toward her and stuck out her hand. “Summer James. I’m Hunter’s wife, but don’t hold that against me.” She looked Sayla up and down. “I see you’re in a fix and need some help?”

  Normally, Sayla would have stubbornly refused any help, especially with something so intimate as changing the bandages on the lower part of her stomach. But Summer immediately put her at ease.

  Sayla gave Sterling a stern look. “You heard that, huh?”

  “I knew you wouldn’t let me help, but Summer’s good with people. She puts up with Hunter who’s only good with horses, and only half as good as he thinks he is.”