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

by Tamie Dearen

  “Stephanie’s ex? Think Dad had something to do with that slimeball showing up here?”

  “Seems more probable than not. We know Carina contacted him at some point.”

  “Caldwell’s in custody now,” Bran mused, as he buttoned his shirt.

  “Makes one wonder what your father will do next, in an attempt to hurt the one you love.”

  Fordham’s contemplative words sent a shudder of dread down Bran’s spine. He didn’t bother to defend against Fordham’s assumption that he was in love with Stephanie. He could only wonder how far his father would go in a game that was spinning out of control. What Branson had started, in an effort to prove himself to his father, had now put Stephanie and Ellie in danger. Did his dad know where she was? Bran’s heart accelerated, breaths coming faster. He had to warn Stephanie. He retrieved his cell phone then remembered Steph had blocked him. Instead, he dialed Finn, but the call went to voicemail. His fingers trembled as he pushed them through his hair.

  “Mr. Knight,” said Fordham. “I believe you’ve misbuttoned your shirt.”

  “Never mind that.” Bran leapt to his feet. “Fordham, contact my pilot. Tell him we’re leaving for New York in fifteen minutes.”

  “An excellent plan, Mr. Knight.”

  Branson could hear the smile in Fordham’s voice. It matched the one on his own face. I’m bringing Stephanie home.

  “I still can’t believe he told you about the wedding,” Steph commented over the low rumble of jet engines.

  Finn glanced up from his paperback. “I think he let it slip because he was upset about his dad.” His eyes twinkled. “Where are you going for your honeymoon?”

  “Stop it. It’s not a real marriage.”

  “It was a real wedding. So it could be a real marriage, if you wanted.”

  “That’s not why I’m going to see him.”

  “If you say so.” He turned back to his book.

  “Really. I mean it.”

  “Okay.” Finn mumbled the way people do when they’re pretending to listen but actually paying attention to something else altogether.

  “Finn? Did you hear me?”

  “Huh? What?”

  “I said I wish you’d quit talking about the wedding.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” He closed his book, shoulders sagging. “Since you’re the one bringing it up?”

  “Of course I’m kidding. I want to talk about it. I need to talk about it. I’m legally married, and I haven’t been able to tell a soul about it. Do you have any idea how hard it’s been for me? It would be hard for anybody. But for me, it was excruciating. Look at me, I’m so desperate to talk about it, I’m forcing a bored man I hardly know to listen to me.”

  Finn chuckled. “Can’t claim you hardly know me. We dated for a while.”

  “True. We were quite an item for a few hours.”

  “And, I was practically the best man at your wedding.”

  “The accidental wedding to a man who was engaged to someone else. The marriage I’ve had to keep secret forever.”

  Finn tilted his head, scrunching his nose. “It’s only been a week.”

  “The longest week in history!” she ranted. “I got married, got a stomach virus, got attacked by my ex-husband and rescued by my current husband, quit my job, moved to a house to which the furry and six-legged inhabitants refused to relinquish the rights, and drove all the way to New York City in a car so full of stuff we could barely squeeze inside. So I was in the car for fourteen hours with my best friend, and I couldn’t even tell her I was married.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell her?”

  “Because...” Steph slapped her armrest. “Branson said we weren’t telling anyone. Then he up and told you all about it. Out of the blue. Why does he get to do that?”

  “Guess you can tell Laurie, now.”

  “Oh my gosh. She’s gonna be so mad I didn’t tell her when it happened. I may just keep it a secret until we get divorced, rather than face her fury.”

  “Yeah.” His smile spread so wide all his teeth showed. “Laurie’s a ball of fire.”

  “You did a number on her last night. I’ve never seen her so bent out of shape.”

  “It was awesome fun.” His dimples flashed in impish fashion.

  “She’s a good friend in a tight spot. But be careful… you don’t want to be on her bad side.”

  “I’m willing to risk it.” One eyebrow kicked up on his forehead. “From what I’ve seen, she doesn’t have a bad side.”

  Finn’s reaction made Steph wonder exactly what had transpired while she was putting Ellie to bed. She jotted a mental note to question Laurie as soon as she got the chance.

  “This wedding mess is all your fault, Finn. You and that stupid idea about the marriage certificates. None of this would’ve happened, if it weren’t for you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he bantered. “I accept gift cards and money orders.”

  She shoved his arm. “It’s not funny. Do you know how complicated you’ve made our lives?”

  “I can’t take all the credit.” He slapped his hand over his heart in mock humility. “I couldn’t have done it without the help of my leading lady… Destiny.”

  She battled to keep an answering smile away. “Are you ever serious?”

  “Hardly.” His mouth twisted to one side. “Only for the big stuff. You know… hurricanes, earthquakes, Bubonic Plague… that sort of thing.”

  Finn returned to his paperback and left Steph alone with her thoughts. She flipped through a book on her phone, though none of the words registered with her brain.

  “One more question.” She tapped Finn’s shoulder. “How upset was Branson when he called you last night?”

  This time Finn didn’t smile. “I told you. He sounded depressed.”

  “Had he been to the gym?”

  “Fifteen-mile run.” He stared ahead at nothing, his empty gaze hardening. “Still depressed.”

  Steph chewed on the inside of her cheek. Finn’s expression indicated this was a bad situation—Bubonic Plague bad.

  “But he knows we’re coming, right?” What if Bran doesn’t want me there? What if I make it worse?

  “I told him I’d be there as soon as I could. You’ll be a surprise. A nice one.” His head nodded as if he were certain of this fact. She hoped Finn knew his friend as well as he thought he did. “Bran probably doesn’t expect me ‘til tomorrow. But he’ll be there—he never leaves the estate, anymore.”

  Chapter 24

  Branson was too worried about Steph to be nervous about traveling away from home. He’d thrown a few items in an overnight bag, in case he had to stay a few days. But he had every intention of bringing Steph and Ellie back to Chicago where he could protect them.

  As the jet lifted into the sky, Bran rehearsed his speech. Should he explain the threat his father posed and justify the need for Steph to stay close? Would that make her want to cling to him for protection or run as far away as possible? Should he address the fact that Carina might need physical help raising his little half-brother or sister? Would she be able to handle the child’s intrusion into their lives or would she insist on a divorce?

  With a growl of frustration, he realized Stephanie deserved much better than the life he could offer, fraught with complications, stress, and danger. He hated himself for bringing more sadness into her life. But he couldn’t live without her—he knew that now. He would do everything in his power to keep her safe and make up for the hurt he caused her.

  Perhaps he should hire a bodyguard. Wasn’t there a movie about a woman with a bodyguard? Didn’t she fall in love with her protector? Scratch that idea. I’ll do it myself.

  Fifteen minutes into the flight, the pilot’s voice came over the loud speaker. “Mr. Knight, I’ve just received a radio communication from home base. They wanted me to inform you Mr. Anderson’s jet is landing at the estate, even as we speak.”

  If Finn was in Illinois, that meant Stephanie was alone in New York.
Is she at risk? Surely my father hasn’t been able to locate her in less than twenty-four hours.

  Branson made his way to the front of the plane and opened the cockpit door.

  “Hey, Bran.” Hosea, his long-time pilot and friend, fell into casual speech as he shouted over the noise. “Want to fly the plane for a bit?”

  Bran grinned, in spite of his anxiety. Hosea had let him fly the plane, much as an adult allows a kid to drive a car. “No, thanks.” Careful not to bump the controls, he slid into the copilot’s seat, empty for the short, one-hour flight.

  “Are we turning back?” Hosea asked.

  “No. Stay on course.”

  “Whatever you say, boss. Want the headphones? They’re hanging up and to your right.”

  As he slipped the headphones on, rock music began to play in his ears. “Seventies music,” Bran commented into the mic. “My favorite.”

  “I remembered,” Hosea remarked. “It’s been a long time. You and I used to spend a lot of hours up here. You were always going places. Some new adventure. Never knew what was next. I really missed that these last couple of years. Nice to have you back.”

  “It’s nice to be back.”

  At once, Bran realized exactly how close his father had come to destroying his life. Branson had given up everything he enjoyed to prove he could beat his father at his own game. Yet, Bran would never find joy in winning, because he hated that game. The only way to win was not to play.

  Wasn’t that what he’d learned when his friends roped him into the Vegas trip? The few moments he forgot all about achieving his new goals—the ones designed to stick it to his dad—those were the times he felt like himself again. He’d neglected the relationships that meant most, trying to build ties with people he hated.

  How could I be so blind? At that, he chuckled, knowing it was the kind of tongue-in-cheek remark Fordham would make. Come to think of it, Fordham had been nagging at him about this issue for the past two years, though Bran refused to listen.

  The radio squawked, Fordham’s voice speaking. “Please inform Mr. Knight he no longer needs to fly to New York. Stephanie Caldwell is here.”

  A weight lifted from Bran’s shoulders, and he couldn’t help laughing. He felt giddy and light, like he could fly without the plane. As Hosea banked the jet into a one-eighty, Bran sang along with the music in his ears. “The boys are back in town…”

  Stephanie paced in front of the glass doors, waiting for the transport van to bring Branson back to the estate. According to Fordham, he’d been flying to New York to talk her into moving back. Evidently, he feared his father might cause her physical harm. The idea sounded absurd, but Fordham believed it was possible.

  It seemed Branson was now dealing with both depression and anxiety. Her heart hurt for him. As much as she loved him, she knew she couldn’t fix everything in his life. All she could do was hug him and remind him he had people who loved him.

  “Could you please sit down?” Finn complained from the bench on the side. “You’re making my eyes cross. He’ll be here in a minute.”

  “I think I see him coming.” Steph stepped outside, shading her eyes with her hand as she peered into the distance.

  “A black Suburban?” Finn joined her, outside. “Yeah, that’s it.”

  As the SUV skidded to a stop, Branson jumped out of the passenger side door.

  “Stephanie?” he called. “Are you here?”

  Before she could respond, Finn shouted. “I’m here. Your best friend. Don’t you want to see me?”

  Branson threw his head back and let out a belly laugh. “I don’t want you, Finn. I want the present you brought me from New York.”

  He doesn’t act depressed. Maybe he’s hiding his pain.

  “I’m here, Bran.” She limped toward him, her clutch still tucked under her arm. “I’m so sorry about what happened. I know you must be—”

  He took two steps, dropped his cane, and hoisted her into the air, in a bear hug, spinning her in circles, her legs dangling. Her purse went flying, and she squealed, beating playfully on his chest. “Put me down, you beast.”

  “Never,” he replied, relaxing the circle of his arms until she slid down, their faces level. “From now on, I’m not wasting another minute of my life. Since any minute without you in my arms is a waste, I’m never going to let you go.”

  Her pulse throbbed in her ears, racing faster and faster, as he nuzzled her neck. “You smell so good.” His lips brushed along the line of her jaw, taking her breath away. “You feel good, too.” He peppered her face with tiny kisses, moving closer to her hungering lips. “Let’s see how you taste.”

  His mouth slanted across hers, lips crashing together in an explosion of burning fire and icy tingles. Her world narrowed until nothing was left but Branson—his spicy scent, his sultry voice, his urgent lips, his gentle hands. The power of his kiss left her thirsty for more.

  As her feet touched the ground, his embrace gave her no chance to escape. Not that she wanted to.

  “I love you.” He breathed the words into her mouth. “More than life.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “Never leave me,” he demanded, though his kiss turned gentle and pleading, its tenderness her undoing.

  “I won’t.” She pulled away to respond, panting for air, then dove back for more, wishing she could somehow get closer.

  “Did I mention I love you?” he asked, his mouth still caressing her lips.

  “Yes, but you can say it again,” she whispered.

  “I love you, Stephanie Knight,” he murmured in her ear, making chill bumps rise on her arms.

  “Please,” she begged, though she had no idea what she needed. She only knew Branson was the sole source of it.

  He murmured, “Yes,” as he nipped at the hollow place under her jaw.

  His arms closed tighter, holding her so close she could barely breathe. Given the choice, she would’ve picked his arms over oxygen, anyway. Then reality inched its way into her mind.

  “What about your father? And Carina? And the baby?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m not going to worry. Not anymore.”

  He caressed her lips with a gentle kiss that drew her anxiety away and covered it with a soft blanket of peace.

  “I love you so much, Stephanie Knight.”

  Her heart did a flip. “That’s really my name,” she said, in a breathy tone.

  “I realized something when I was on that plane. By trying to prove I was better than my dad, I was becoming exactly like him. I was so obsessed with success, I almost missed the best thing that ever happened to me… you.”

  “I don’t know why you would want me. I come with a lot of baggage. An unfinished degree. A ton of debt. A daughter with cystic fibrosis. A psycho ex-husband.”

  He grinned. “That’s exactly why I fell in love with you. Despite everything that happened, you still have a kind heart. Sure, maybe you’re a bit too trusting, but I’m cynical enough for both of us. I love that you forgive people, even when they don’t deserve it.”

  Steph kissed each of his eyelids. “You know what I love about you?”

  “Tell me,” he mumbled, while nuzzling her neck in the most distracting way.

  “I can’t think when you’re doing that,” she complained.

  “Are you saying I make you mindless with desire?” His eyebrows bobbed up and down.

  “Ha! Yes, but that’s not the reason I love you. It’s because you give to people who can’t give back. People like me.”

  “You’re so wrong. You’ve given me more than you’ll ever know,” Bran declared. “You’ve given me hope. You’ve given me a reason to live. You’ve—”

  “Ah… excuse me.” Finn broke into their conversation, leaning against a pillar and tapping his foot. “Are we about finished here? I think you’ve established that she’s given you lots of stuff. But you’re giving me a headache.”

  “You could go away and stop eavesdropping,” Steph suggested.

&nb
sp; “Or,” Finn countered, “You could wrap up this mutual admiration session and we could all go to lunch.”

  “Put your fingers in your ears,” Branson said, “because I’ve got one more thing to say.”

  “Just kill me.” Finn rolled his eyes and covered his ears with his hands.

  “I can’t promise a life without problems or stress.” Bran smoothed her hair away from her face. “But I can promise my love is bigger than those things. We’ll run, not to get away from our trouble, but for the joy of running. We’ll fly away, not to hide, but to find grand adventures. In each other’s arms, we’ll escape the world. Hand in hand, we’ll face it.”

  The breeze felt cool on her damp cheeks. “That’s so beautiful.”

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” Finn goaded. “Maybe you two should get a room.”

  Branson smiled and pressed his ravenous lips to hers. “That’s an excellent idea.”

  Chapter 25

  I don’t understand why you can’t just tell people we’re married. Wouldn’t that take care of everything?” Steph paced around Branson’s bedroom like a lion in a cage. At the estate, only Laurie and Fordham knew the truth, so Steph and Bran had to sneak around like teenagers in order to be together. “It’s been a week, already. I hate keeping it a secret.” And it makes me feel insecure, but I don’t want to sound needy.

  “Come here.” Branson sat up against the headboard and patted the bed beside him. “Please?”

  Yanking her gaze away from his well-muscled chest, she climbed in bed and snuggled against him. “I’m still waiting for an answer, Bran.”

  He ignored the question. “I love this sexy outfit you have on. This baggy sweatshirt is my absolute favorite. What color is it?”

  “Grey.” She held back a chuckle, biting her lips.

  “Grey—that’s my favorite color. I like it so much better than red or green or pink or black. Did you put this on just for me?”

  “Just for you.” She couldn’t keep the corners of her mouth from curving up.