The Billionaire's Secret Marriage (The Limitless Clean Billionaire Romance Series Book 1)

by Tamie Dearen

  “Ms. Parker, I’d like to apologize for my attitude earlier this morning. I’m afraid the stress of the move made me forget my place. I’m loyal to Mr. Knight, so I’m loyal to you.”

  Her arms folded, slender fingers with perfectly manicured French nails tapping an impatient rhythm. “Forgive me if I think you’re lying through your teeth.”

  With Ellie’s needs at the forefront of her mind, Steph bit her sarcastic tongue and forced a fake smile on her face. How she wanted to jab splinters under Carina’s impeccable fingernails! “The two of you are obviously in love. I want what’s best for my boss, and I’m smart enough to know that’s you.”

  “Or…” Carina lifted a hand to her chin and tapped a finger against her lips. “You want what’s best for you, and you’re wise enough to know you need me.”

  Steph let her smile fade. “Either way, I’m committed to support your relationship in any way I can. I’m not claiming to have much influence, but what little I have will be going your direction. I won’t criticize you or try to interfere. I promise.”

  “Believe me, I’m not worried about your influence.” A mocking sneer slid onto Carina’s face. “I’ll take your promise, though I’m not making any. My moods change so quickly. You know how it is.”

  Stephanie stood speechless as Carina turned her back and glided down the hallway with smooth strides like a model on a runway. When she disappeared into Bran’s office, a chill assaulted Steph’s spine. Her Granny used to say when you felt that, it meant someone was walking on your grave. Steph shook her head, turning toward the kitchen. “In my case, Carina would probably dance on it.”

  Though she only needed sixty seconds to prepare the coffee, Stephanie took her time. Carina had rejected her peace offering, so Steph needed to be even more careful to stay in Branson’s good graces. Unfortunately, she had no idea what he wanted from her.

  Did he suspect her attraction for him? Had it been a trick to force her to admit to it? He’d certainly set every nerve-ending on fire when his hands grasped her arms, examining her with magical, x-ray vision.

  He had to know. There was no other reasonable explanation. He knew she was hopelessly in love with him. He knew, and he didn’t return the feeling.

  Balancing the mugs on a tray, she returned to Branson’s private office, her expression revealing none of the private turmoil she felt. “I’ve got your coffee.”

  Branson paused, his racing fingers on the Braille keyboard. “Great. Here.” He patted an empty spot on his desk and returned to his typing, as if nothing had happened between them. As if she hadn’t bared her soul to him and experienced agonizing rejection. Okay, maybe she was exaggerating a little bit, but she was irritated he seemed unaffected by the whole ordeal.

  Ignoring everyone, Carina sprawled on the leather couch, designer shoes carelessly tossed on the floor, her eyes glued to her phone screen. Steph placed Carina’s coffee on the table beside her, with the distinct impression of being invisible. Was this going to be the new norm? Carina lurking in the background while they were trying to work? I guess she wants to be sure nothing illicit is going on between Bran and me.

  “Stephanie, are you ready to start? I’ve already recorded two hours of dictation. You’ll have to wade through it, because I went back and corrected things.”

  Was Bran’s tone more gentle than usual, or was that Steph’s imagination? She slid into her customary chair beside Bran’s desk and opened her laptop, diving into the day’s work. Soon she was engrossed in transcribing Bran’s dictations playing in her earpiece, and at about two p.m., her stomach gurgled to complain of missed lunch.

  “Was that your stomach?” asked Bran. “Or a pack of werewolves on the hunt?”

  Stephanie pressed her hand on her rowdy abdomen, to no avail. “I guess I’m hungry.”

  “Let’s go to lunch. Mine is getting noisy, too.” His hand swept toward the door.

  A quick glance around the room revealed Carina was missing. “What happened to Ms. Parker?”

  “I can’t believe you missed all that.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Didn’t you notice when she dragged me outside into the hallway?”

  “Kind of. But I had my dictation earpiece in. I was working on those communications you recorded earlier today, and I can’t hear much else.

  He shook his head as if he had a hard time swallowing her explanation. “She complained she was bored and demanded I take her shopping.”

  Steph almost laughed out loud, imagining how that went over. “I guess she learned you don’t respond well to demands.”

  As a crooked grin appeared on his face, she warmed all over, knowing she was responsible for it. “Needless to say, Carina is now shopping on her own.”

  His hand nestled in the small of her back, as if he were the one guiding her down the hallway. She realized if the interior was pitch black, she would totally trust him to lead her through the dark. He never erred.

  By the time they were both seated at the table, with lunch in front of them, Stephanie had done her usual thing, describing in detail all about the move and how excited Ellie was that she would have a new home when she returned from school. She was most excited that she would have her own room with a big bed, instead of sharing a bedroom with her mom.

  Swallowing his last bite, Bran sat back and pushed his plate away, patting his lips with his napkin. Steph suddenly wondered if Bran’s dislike of children extended to hearing stories about them. She talked about Ellie way too much.

  “I’m sorry,” said Steph. “I always run at the mouth. I can’t seem to stop myself.”

  “I enjoy your stories,” he said, politely.

  But Steph wasn’t fooled. She scrambled to change the subject. “Are you excited about the Vegas trip? The guys said you love it, and you used to go all the time. I can’t picture you there.”

  “No? Why not?” came his tight-lipped reply.

  “I don’t know. I guess because you don’t drink alcohol or eat rich foods. And I can’t see you gambling your money away in Vegas. You’re such a…” She let her words fade as his expression hardened.

  “Go ahead. Finish the sentence,” he urged, his jaw muscles bulging.

  “I wasn’t being critical,” she defended. “I hardly ever drink, either. Maybe an occasional glass of wine with dinner. And I’ve always admired you for being a practical nerd.” The world’s hottest nerd, but I won’t say that.

  “Nerd? Is that what you were going to say? Or were you planning to call me a coward?” He threw his wadded napkin on the table.

  “Why on earth would I call you a coward?” If Bran hadn’t looked so furious, she would’ve laughed out loud. “You’re not afraid of anything. You face the world every single day without the benefit of sight, and look what you’ve accomplished. No one can call you a coward.”

  “Stop it! Stop saying what you think I want to hear.” He pushed back from the table and stood up. He pivoted behind his chair, his knuckles white as he gripped the back. “You don’t have to lie. I’m not going to fire you, Stephanie. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to.”

  She flinched at his wrath, wondering what she’d done to rile him up. For two years he’d been as steady as a rock, seldom displaying any emotion at all. She had no idea how to act around this new Branson. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

  “Do you know why?” he bellowed. “Do you know why I can’t fire you?”

  “No,” she croaked, barely holding her emotions in check.

  “Because I made a mistake with you. A huge mistake. I let myself…” He stopped, covering his face with his hands. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”

  What was he trying to say? A seed of hope sprouted in her heart. Had he developed feelings for her, after all? Did he regret proposing to Carina?

  “What is it? You can tell me,” she encouraged, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “I’m weak, and I despise weakness.” He let his hands fall to his side, as if surrendering to his emotions. “I let m
yself become dependent on you. So dependent, I can’t function without you anymore.”

  Her heart sank like a lead weight, a surge of revulsion shooting up. “That’s it? That’s what you’re agonizing over? You need me? So I’m like a… like a shoehorn or something? Useful to perform certain tasks? And you’re so tough, you can’t stand needing a little help?”

  “Don’t you see?” His face turned red, blood vessels bulging at his temples. “I have to be able to rely on myself and no one else.”

  “Why?” She was on her feet and in his face. “What’s so terrible about needing someone else? We all need each other. That’s what life’s all about.”

  “You don’t,” he insisted, though he took a step back. “Your husband left you, and you got a job and took care of yourself and Ellie. You proved you didn’t need anyone.”

  “No.” She stomped her foot so hard it stung. “All I proved was I didn’t need Jeff. But my life would be a wreck without Laurie. And if you hadn’t given me this job, I don’t know what I would’ve done. I need people now, more than ever.”

  “But—”

  “So stop feeling sorry for yourself. It’s…” She struggled to find the appropriate word. “It’s unattractive.”

  For a fleeting second, she thought she saw a smile on his face. “Unattractive? Shouldn’t you use a term I’d understand better? What does a blind man know about attraction?”

  This was a recurring joke, whenever she used terms associated with sight, which happened all the time. But Steph wasn’t ready to let go of her irritation. “Okay, how about this? It’s ridiculous.”

  “Ridiculous? Not sure I like that one better.”

  “It fits, though.”

  His hand lifted, rubbing his temples. “I apologize again. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, lately. I don’t usually—”

  “Lose control,” she finished the sentence for him. “I know. I was thinking the same thing. It’s not like you.”

  He tapped his foot on the floor, squinting like he was deep in thought. “I want you to go with me to Las Vegas.”

  “What? I can’t. I can’t leave Ellie for an entire weekend.”

  “It’s one night. We leave on Saturday, come back on Sunday. Laurie will be here with her. And I’ll give you an extra week of vacation, anytime you want.”

  “Seven days? Any time I want them?”

  “Yes.”

  “Just to be clear—those are twenty-four-hour days we’re talking about?”

  His smile crooked to the left, the way it always did when she caught him off guard. He lifted his hands in surrender. “I’ll put it in writing, if you don’t trust me.”

  “What about Carina? I doubt your fiancée will want me to tag along.”

  For a moment, his expression clouded. Then his grin was back, infectious as ever, dimples flashing. “It’ll be fine. Finn decided to fly out with us. I’ll say he invited you. I’m sure he’ll go along with it. You’ll be Finn’s date, of sorts. You can dress up and go everywhere with us.”

  “Wait a minute. This can’t possibly work.” Stephanie’s head swirled. “I’ll stand out like a sore thumb with you and your friends. Why do you even want me to go?”

  In a blink, his grin was gone. “You can’t tell a soul.”

  “I won’t. You know I’d never tell anyone.”

  His face paled and he reached out to grip the chair again. “I haven’t gone anywhere in a while. I get these panic attacks when I leave the property, and you…” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “You make me feel secure.”

  Her heart melted like warm butter. After two years, he finally trusted her enough to be vulnerable. In her heart, she’d always known he could never love her. If she could never be more to him than a security blanket, she’d take what she could get.

  “Okay. I’ll go to Vegas.” She saw his tense countenance relax, and added, “But Branson…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t come asking for my help if you’re nervous on your wedding night.”

  The longer Stephanie was in the room, the more Bran’s coiled muscles relaxed. Since she’d promised to go with him to Vegas, his stomach had stopped churning. Though he broke out in a cold sweat when he imagined being inside the casino, he could handle it with Steph close by.

  He was feeling so cheery with the turn of events, he offered to let her go an hour earlier than usual.

  She hadn’t been gone long when someone buzzed the entrance monitor outside his office door.

  “Who is it?” he asked, hoping it wasn’t Carina.

  “It’s me.”

  Dad. His blood pressure shot up.

  Reluctantly, Branson pushed a button to open the door. He leaned back in his chair, trying to appear relaxed.

  “Good morning, son.”

  His dad had perfected the art of speaking that word in a demeaning tone.

  “Father.” He used an equally mocking inflection. “Or would you rather I called you Martin, so no one knows we’re related?”

  “I see you haven’t changed. You’re as disrespectful as you’ve always been. And you wonder why we never got along?”

  “What do you want?” Bran had no intention of rehashing this argument.

  “Why do you think I want something? Can’t a father visit his son?”

  “A father could, but you can’t.”

  He could hear his father breathing hard and felt his fury lurking below the surface.

  “I came to congratulate you on your engagement. Is that so bad?”

  “How do you know about it?”

  “You’re joking, right? Horace Parker announced it to the world. He probably took out an ad in the New York Times.” Martin’s disdain was obvious. “The man’s a low-life sycophant.”

  Bran didn’t care much for Carina’s father, but felt compelled to defend him. “He’s no worse than anyone else in your circle of friends.”

  “Martin isn’t in the circle. He’s new money. That’s why he wants the Knight name.”

  “Interesting. And I was considering having mine changed to be rid of it.”

  In the cold silence that followed, his father’s breathing grew louder, still.

  “Though you take joy in spitting in my face, I’ve come to offer a wedding present.” His father’s voice came closer, leaning across the desk.

  “Thanks, Dad. I’m sure Carina will make a list.”

  “I plan to set up a trust fund for your first child…”

  Martin left the sentence hanging, as if he had more to say, but decided not to share. Though Bran was curious, he refused to take the bait.

  “How do you know my first child isn’t already walking around somewhere?”

  “Let me clarify—your first legitimate child.”

  “Offer what you want. I’m not planning my life around your desires.”

  “I do have a few conditions.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” Under his desk, his hands clenched and unclenched.

  “I’m willing to offer a substantial trust fund if you produce a child within the next two years.”

  “No thanks.”

  “You don’t know how much I’m offering.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Dad. You have to know the value of Escapade’s stocks has skyrocketed. I don’t need your money, and I don’t want it, either.” He almost mentioned that his dad’s company was currently floundering, but thought better of it.

  “You’d turn your nose up at my money? Even 250 million?”

  He fought to keep from gasping aloud. “You’d give my son or daughter a quarter of a billion dollars?” Bran couldn’t figure out his dad’s game. Could it be I’ve finally earned his respect? Is this his way of offering an olive branch?

  “It’s a trust fund.” Martin sounded earnest, at first. “But you’ll be the trustee until the child inherits at age eighteen. It has to be a blood-child, of course, not adopted. Your firstborn sighted child.”

  “Sighted child?” Bran’s blood boi
led, throbbing so loudly in his ears that his father’s voice sounded far away.

  “Don’t worry, complete blindness is really rare.”

  “Get. Out.” He ground the words on his molars.

  “Think about it… the ultimate slap in my face, to take my money. Is it so bad to ask for a legitimate grandchild?”

  Branson slammed his hands on his desk and stood up, aiming his angry face at his dad. “Get out!”

  “I’m leaving.” Martin’s voice receded, but he paused to have the last word before shutting the door behind him. “Think about it.”

  Bran collapsed into his chair, knowing he would obey his father’s last order, no matter how hard he tried not to.

  Chapter 6

  Mom?” Ellie’s voice, scratchy from sleep, floated from her bedroom door, where she stood watching as Stephanie attempted to zip her overflowing suitcase. “Aren’t you going to kiss me goodbye?”

  Stephanie sighed, abandoning her futile task. She sat on the couch and opened her arms, nodding at Ellie, who immediately ran to her mom. The impact pushed Stephanie backwards and she rolled, with Ellie in her grip, laughing at their game. “I kissed you goodbye last night.” She sat up, bringing Ellie with her, and kissed her daughter’s forehead. “It’s early. Why are you awake?”

  “I needed one more kiss.” With big brown eyes, soft blond hair in curly disarray, and her lower lip protruding, Ellie’s angelic face would’ve softened the hardest of hearts. “I don’t want you to go, Mom. My tummy hurts.”

  “Probably hurts because you ate too much dessert at dinner last night.” Steph kissed the top of her head. “I’ll be back tomorrow night. Laurie’s gonna keep you so busy, you won’t even miss me. You get to tour the mansion.”

  “The whole thing?”

  “Yep.”

  “I thought I couldn’t go past the kitchen. What about all those people who don’t like kids?”

  “It’s only two people—Mr. Knight and Ms. Parker—but both of them will be gone, so Mr. Fordham promised to give you a private, guided tour. Wait until you see the library. You’re going to love it.”