by Lee, Nadia
“Yes?” Gavin rose. His knees trembled.
“Your wife’s fine. It was—”
“The baby?”
“No problem either. It was hypoglycemia and a migraine. She shouldn’t eat chocolate or other sweets until after she delivers. We want to keep her for observation for twenty-four hours, but after that she should be able to go home.”
Gavin swayed, all the tension draining away. “Thank god.”
“If you want, you can see her now. She’s in Room 236.”
Gavin started for the room, leaving Ethan sprawled on one of the vinyl couches. “I’ll just wait here,” Ethan called after him.
* * *
Gavin pushed the door open and walked inside. The room was spacious, with a single bed. Amandine lay on it, her face still too pale. A needle was taped to the inside of her elbow, a clear solution dripping into the tube it was connected to.
“Amandine,” he said, his voice hoarse.
Her eyes opened, then widened. “Oh my god, Gavin. What happened to you?”
Her reaction cracked something inside him, and he burst out laughing. “Me? You’re the one who fainted.”
“But you look…” Her voice softened, and she raised a hand. “Were you crying?”
That hand was a lifeline, and he went forward and folded it into both of his. It was still too cool for his peace of mind. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”
“Who found me?”
“I did. I went to the house.” For you. “Brooke said you’d fired everyone.”
“Oh.” She frowned. “I didn’t really fire them. Just gave everyone a two week-long paid vacation.”
“Why?”
“You wouldn’t talk to me.”
“I’m here now.” Tell me you changed your mind. Tell me you want the whole package—me included.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were closing your funds?” she asked.
That’s it? His limbs seemed impossibly weak now, and it was all he could do to remain propped up against her bed. “I’m not really closing them. I’m cutting back.”
“Whatever you call it. Why didn’t you tell me?”
He sighed. “It never came up. You decided you wanted to divorce me, no matter what, the day I made the decision.”
“Why…?”
“I don’t need a twenty-first billion.”
Her upper teeth bit into her soft lower lip. What was she thinking? Did she feel like she’d made a mistake by asking for a divorce after all? He recalled the painting she’d been working on when she fainted. If she saw him like this even now, he might still have a chance. “Amandine—”
“Gavin—”
They both stopped short and stared at each other. Her eyes flickered with so many emotions, but at the end, she simply said, “I missed you.”
Then she sat up and hugged him. His arms went around her in hot relief and gratitude. She felt so good, so perfect. Had he really taken her for granted? Not come home early enough to hold her before going to bed? He’d been the biggest idiot ever. “Not as much as I missed you.”
“Mark said you bought a penthouse,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest.
“I thought that’s what you wanted. You told me you’d do whatever it took to be free of me.”
She sniffled. “I didn’t mean it. In the end I just couldn’t give you up.”
“I know that now, but when you told me you’d rather be divorced than have a family with me, I thought…” He swallowed. “It took me a long time to figure it out, but what I really wanted was to provide for you, make sure you had the world at your feet, and pamper you so you’d never have anything to worry about and know that you’re loved.”
Her eyes shone with something that looked suspiciously like tears. He kissed them and tasted salt and love.
He continued: “The money was supposed to be a means to an end, but I don’t need another billion to do that. My work was competing with my time with you, and I let it win. I gave you things, but I wasn’t there for you.”
Pulling back, she tilted her head so she could look at him better. “Then why did you agree to divorce?”
“Because of what Catherine and Mom said.”
“What?”
He told her then about what both women had said. “If it had been one or the other, I might not have given up so easily, but Catherine and Mom have very different motivations and points of view. When they both said similar things, I figured maybe they were right.” He took a stool and pulled her on his lap. “I’ve been a selfish bastard and didn’t make you happy. I knew instinctively that you needed me, but I couldn’t let myself believe it.”
“Why not?”
“It sounds like a bad excuse, but I never believed anybody could want me the way I am. I always needed to be more—more successful, more interesting, more everything.”
She ran a finger along his cheek, and he closed his eyes at the unbearable sweetness of her touch.
“Oh, Gavin,” she whispered.
He caught her eye and held it. “My experience tends to confirm it, but I let my past color my present to the point that I couldn’t relax around you and enjoy our marriage.”
“You aren’t the only one. I was always worried.”
His head jerked back. “What? Why?”
“I thought I could never measure up to Catherine. She’s just so perfect. She seemed like a more suitable wife for somebody like you.”
He snorted. “She and I would’ve been utterly miserable. I was more in love with the idea of marrying a pretty young woman who’d look good on my arm. Thankfully, she realized that too before things went too far. It would have been a complicated—and expensive—mistake.”
“That’s not all. Your family’s perfect too. They’re so intimidating. Everyone’s so well-educated and well-read and well-traveled and well-mannered and everything. I’m like an ignorant country bumpkin next to them.”
Gavin frowned at her. “That’s crazy. My family loves you, and we aren’t golden the way you think. Look at Jacob, for god’s sake. And Meredith. She had a baby out of wedlock, you know. Uncle Tony thinks money falls from the sky. I understand if being surrounded by staff bothers you, but it’d make me feel better if you have somebody with you at all times, at least until you deliver the baby.” He kissed her gently. His heart expanded with warmth and joy when she responded, opening her mouth to let him in.
“I guess Brooke can do that,” she said against his lips.
“We can sell the mansion and move into the penthouse,” he murmured. “It’s smaller and much more manageable.”
She pulled back a little. “No. That won’t be necessary. I know you like the house, and so do I.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. Gavin, what I want is you. It doesn’t matter where we live so long as I have you with me.”
Relief and love coursed through him. He laid his forehead against hers, his eyes on hers. “I love you,” he murmured.
“I love you, too.” She smiled. “Guess we’ll have to call our lawyers, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“We still have to pay their fees, don’t we?”
“Yeah.”
“How much do you owe Craig?” she asked, anxiety tightening her voice. “I bet Samantha’s really expensive.”
God, his wife was adorable when she worried about money. You would think she would have gotten used to having lots of it around by now. “I don’t know, maybe around two hundred thousand all told?”
“Two hundred thousand dollars?” She gasped. “If I’d known they’d cost that much, I would’ve never asked for a divorce I didn’t want in the first place.”
He chuckled. “Honey, it’s nothing. I’d pay twenty times that if I could keep you.” He kissed her mouth. “Love you.”
“Love you.”
* * *
The morning after she’d gotten discharged from the hospital, Amandine didn’t get up until well after eight thirty. She rolled over and blinked
when she saw Gavin sitting in his boxers in one of the comfy armchairs in their bedroom, tapping away on his laptop.
“Morning,” he said, closing the computer and putting it aside.
“Good morning.” She frowned. “Shouldn’t you be at work by now?”
“Nope.”
“Is today some kind of holiday where every financial market in the world shuts down?”
“Nope.” He crawled into the bed and pulled her closer.
She went willingly, her body going pliant over his larger and warmer one. “Then?”
“I’m taking today off.”
“Really? Can you do that?”
“Of course I can do that. I’m the boss.”
“But you almost never take any time off.”
“Well… It’s kind of a half-assed day off. I’m working from home until the two-week vacation you gave everyone’s over.” He tapped the tip of her nose. “Then once everything’s settled at the firm, and the associates have taken over most of the funds, I’m cutting back. Only three days a week. I promise I’ll be home by six, so we can eat together. Speaking of which, Brooke told me you haven’t been eating well. Something about nausea…”
Uh-oh. Amandine wasn’t so sure about the stern gleam in her husband’s eyes. “I am pregnant, and I occasionally feel the effects of morning sickness,” she said primly.
“I’m sure you do, but Brooke also told me you don’t eat when you’re stressed.”
“The traitorous wench.”
He shook his head. “Loyal. I sign her paychecks.” He ran a hand over her belly. “I didn’t tell you this earlier, but I want you to know I plan to change. If I ever do anything that makes you unhappy, just tell me. I’m going to do my best to make you happy, and I want you to tell me if I’m doing it wrong. Don’t let things fester between us.”
“Okay. I promise.” She took the hand on her belly and kissed each fingertip, her gaze on his. “You’re already doing a great job, Gavin. If you make me any happier, I might die of it.”
“Not the worst way to go, but I ask that you persevere.” His tone was light, his face relaxed as he linked their hands and kissed where their fingers joined. “I’m going to devote at least sixty years to making you happy.”
“Oh my gosh. Sixty years?”
“At least. I plan to live for a very long time with the only woman I’ve ever loved.”
“You’re going to make me the luckiest woman alive.” Amandine’s eyes filled with tears as the sweetest ache spread in her heart. “I love you.”
——
Is Amandine’s younger brother Pete going to get the girl of his dreams? Find out in Pete and Brooke’s story, The Millionaire’s Crush!
The Millionaire’s Crush
Seduced by the Billionaire, Book 3.5
Nadia Lee
Her best friend’s brother never looked so hot…
Brooke de Lorenzo knows Pete Monroe is off-limits. They crossed that line once, in a make-out session that rocked her world, but anything more would be complicated. Messy. Unbelievably hot. And deep down, she’s afraid the younger man might just break her heart.
Pete’s worked years to make sure he will be worthy of Brooke, and he’s not going to wait any longer. He’s going to show her what they have is very real, and that forbidden fruit is the sweetest and most satisfying.
For my sweet little boy.
Chapter One
BROOKE DE LORENZO WAITED, sitting at a kitchen table made of pale wood, while her older sister Sandy put her sleeping toddler in bed. Wisps of steam rose from the hot green tea in two white mugs. Both of them sported the family business name Custom Flooring in red block letters edged with double gold lines. When their father couldn’t do the work any longer, Sandy and her husband had taken over the business.
Though the kitchen table was cheap and worn, the tiles were top-notch. Not ostentatiously expensive, but appropriate for their modest home and so well laid, a photo of them could have been used for the company website.
Sandy made her way back to the kitchen, walking briskly, her bare feet sidestepping the Lego blocks and toys littering the hallway. She was dressed in a black T-shirt that said “I Heart NYC” and patches of intriguing colors—faded orange, peach and pea green—stained her white Capri pants. She sat down in her chair hard enough to make it creak.
“Ah, finally,” Brooke said.
“Finally,” Sandy agreed. “She’s cute, but way too willful.”
“Wonder where she got that from?”
“Probably her aunt.” Sandy looked at Brooke meaningfully.
“Hey! That’s slander.”
“So sue me.” Sandy rolled her dark eyes. Her features were more Asian, taking after their mother, who had been half-Korean, while Brooke’s were more Caucasian. Sandy also inherited their Italian father’s tall, sturdy frame: almost six feet tall and muscled from the work she did at the company.
“Anyway, about the flooring,” Sandy said, “If Amandine wants to do it, that’s fine, though I think it’s a shame to cover the current floor up. Hardwood, right?”
“Yup. Oak.”
“And not even five years old.”
“I know. But she’s pregnant and determined to turn one of the guest rooms into a proper nursery before the due date. Oak apparently isn’t appropriate.”
Sandy sipped her tea. “It’s just funny to hear somebody complain about top-quality oak.”
“She says it’s too hard and slippery.” Though Brooke saw her best friend’s point, she sort of agreed with Sandy. Oak as good as the stuff in Amandine’s mansion was perfect for any room.
“Well, it’s her money.”
“Her husband’s really. And he’s loaded, and he doesn’t care how much she spends as long as she’s happy.” Amandine’s husband Gavin had given her a private jet on their third anniversary. New flooring was nothing.
“I can get her an estimate by next week.”
“Thanks, sis.”
“Hope she has her baby soon, so you can stop babysitting her twenty-four seven.”
“Oh, it’s not that bad. And the housekeeper, Luna, started staying over three days a week, so that frees up my time. Besides, I don’t have to be there when Gavin’s home, and he’s home more often now. I was actually able to move out.”
“Oh good. So that means you’re coming to church three weeks from now?”
Three weeks? Something was going on, and Brooke gave Sandy’s question due consideration: one second. “No.”
“We have a new member. A really nice older lady.”
“Okay…”
“She owns a laundromat.”
“Uh huh. And?”
“Oh.” Sandy cleared her throat delicately. “Well, there’s a son. Mid-thirties. Single. And a doctor.”
There it is. And just like Sandy to leave the most important item for last. “I don’t suppose you know his specialty?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. Cardiology.”
Not bad. “So why is he still single?”
“No time to date. You have to study to be a cardiologist. I certainly wouldn’t want a partier to operate on my heart.”
“True,” she said and stood up. “Okay, I gotta go. Tomorrow’s going to be another busy day at work.”
“More baby clothes shopping?”
“Yup. I so enjoy spending Amandine’s husband’s money.”
Sandy’s chortle faded as Brooke let the door close behind her.
She drove back to the city where she lived in a cheap no-frills apartment. The Sunday afternoon traffic wasn’t that heavy, for L.A. It was good that Sandy’s marriage was working out again. She looked content, which was what mattered.
So why do I feel so dissatisfied?
Brooke had a good life. A good home. A car that was barely three years old with a job that wasn’t overly demanding and paid well. In fact, it was great. She basically got paid to hang out with her best friend all day long.
And yet…
Shoul
d she just suck it up and go to church? Being single with an unemployable degree—English Lit—in one of the most expensive cities in the country didn’t reassure her father. If she made the effort to mix a little, at least, maybe he’d be satisfied.
Until the next time someone with an unmarried doctor or lawyer son joined the congregation. For somebody who didn’t go to the church, he knew an awful lot about what went on there, thanks to all those talkative uncles on her mother’s side of the family.
She parked her car. As she was climbing out, her phone rang. The caller ID showed an unfamiliar number. Should she ignore it? But what if it was something to do with Amandine?
Brooke worked as Amandine’s assistant, and it wasn’t unusual for her to get calls from people she’d never met. She didn’t travel in the same social circles that Amandine did.
“Hello?” she said.
“Hey, Brooke.”
That voice. Her entire body clenched with shock.
“It’s Pete.”
“I know.” Pete Monroe, Amandine’s younger brother. How could she forget? “What can I do for you?”
A short pause. “I’m in the neighborhood. Wanna grab an early dinner?”
“Uh, it’s only five thirty. I’m not hungry.” Her stomach seized the moment and growled loudly. She cringed. Could he have heard it? Maybe she should’ve had the grayish chicken noodle soup at Sandy’s. Her sister wasn’t the best cook, but it would’ve been better than her stomach making an embarrassing noise.
“If you want to make it a little later that’s fine. I heard from Amandine there’s a great Chinese restaurant near your place. Wong Lotus.”
The images of succulent lobster meat smothered in butter-soft sauce danced in her mind, and her mouth watered. I wonder if Pavlov had a dog named Brooke?
“My treat,” Pete continued. “Come on.”
“Fine.” If he was buying, she was definitely getting lobster Cantonese. “I’ll meet you there in fifteen minutes.”
She sat back in the driver’s seat and checked her makeup in the rearview mirror. Smoky eyeliner and dark eye shadow made her eyes pop. She could, however, use more lip gloss. She dug into her purse and found a tube. She should look good, but not to the point that Pete might think she’d gone to any special trouble just for him. They’d been staying away from each other since that afternoon when she’d lost her mind—seriously, that was the only explanation for what she’d done. So why was he reaching out to her all of a sudden? She liked it better when they were avoiding each other. Life was easier that way.