by Ivy Layne
“You saw him? You took that picture yourself?”
I knew what she was asking. She’d been fooled once, the last time by the police. She had to be sure. So did I, which was why I’d asked Cooper to call in a favor and get us a first-hand look at Anthony’s dead body. I slid my phone into my pocket and wrapped my arm around Sophie, pulling her tight to my side.
“I took the picture myself. He’s dead, Sophie. Ice cold and very, very dead. They said he bled out in his cell. He’s not coming back this time.”
Sophie let out a long breath and slumped against me, winding one arm around my waist and holding me tight. It felt like we’d been waiting forever for her to be free. Divorce had been one solution, but this was much better. Finally, Sophie’s nightmare was over. For good.
“If you two don’t have other plans,” I said, “I was thinking we could go get a hot chocolate at Annabelle’s and stop by to see Charlie and Lucas’s project. Charlie said the kitchen is done and we need to see it before the painters cover it up.”
Sophie straightened and smiled. “Sure, just let me change.”
I caught her hand in mine before she could leave. “You okay, Angel?”
Sophie gave me an absolutely brilliant smile and said, “I’ve never been better.”
As soon as she was out of the room, I turned to Amelia and said, “I have a plan, and I need your help.”
Epilogue: Part Two
Sophie
“Sophie, while you’re up, would you get my book from the library?”
Amelia was comfortably ensconced in her bed, covers tucked to her chin. I looked at her suspiciously. She never read in bed. When the lights went out, so did Amelia.
“Which book?” I challenged.
“The mystery. The one about the knitting club and the murder.”
That described any number of mysteries Amelia had read lately, but I thought I knew the one she meant. Helpfully, she said, “I left it on the table closest to the fireplace.”
“You can read it in the morning,” I said, wondering what she was up to.
“I want to finish that chapter now. I won’t be able to sleep until I know whose body they found behind the yarn shop.”
I sighed. I didn’t believe her for a second. There was no chance Amelia was going to stay up late to read a book. She loved her sleep too much. But Gage was at a dinner meeting with Aiden, and I was at loose ends, not tired enough to sleep myself, so I might as well do what she asked and let her plan play itself out.
“Okay, be right back.”
I headed into the hall, braced for a surprise. None came. Soft lights illuminated the wood floors and cream walls, and outside in the courtyard, the fountain was still lit, the flowing water gleaming in the darkness. The house was quiet with Mrs. W at her cottage, Abel in his apartment, and both Gage and Aiden out to dinner.
The house needed life. It needed children. Gage had been trying to convince me to have my birth control implant removed. He wanted a family with me. He wanted babies. As much as I loved to imagine having Gage’s children, his dark hair and serious blue eyes looking back at me from a little boy or girl, I didn’t want to take any chances. I wasn’t getting pregnant while I was still married to Anthony.
It hit me again that Anthony was dead. This time, I was really, truly a widow. Just the thought of Anthony’s dead body put a spring in my step. Maybe I was morbid, but after he’d come back from the dead once, nothing comforted me like seeing evidence that he was gone for good. I was free.
A light was on in the library. I’d been sure they were all turned off when we left earlier. My steps slowed as I approached the door with caution. Amelia couldn’t have planned anything elaborate. I was with her all evening. I’d know if she were up to something big.
Still, I entered the library on alert, my eyes scanning the room from one corner to another, looking for anything out of place. The room was empty, the pillows fluffed, blankets folded, and Amelia’s book exactly where she’d left it, on the table by the fireplace.
As I crossed the room to retrieve the book, thinking I was too suspicious, the fireplace clicked and flickered to life, the flames filling the room with warm light. I jumped a little and spun around, but the room was still empty. Just as I was getting my bearings, the lamp on the far side of the couch turned on, the abrupt glare blinding me for a second.
I blinked a few times, and my eyes adjusted, the lamp coming into focus. A shadow marred the white silk shade, a dark circle topped with a fat dark triangle.
A ring.
Why was there an oversize ring on the inside of the lamp?
I’d understood the bugs. Those had even scared me a little, and I’d been the one to tape them in place. But a ring? I walked closer, curious. The ring was the diameter of a dinner plate and a little lopsided.
I was starting to doubt Amelia was behind this. She was a stickler for perfection in her pranks, and she could cut a better circle than that.
Walking closer, I peered beneath the shade, reaching inside to take down the silhouette of the ring. A sparkle caught my eye, and I froze. Tied to the inside of the shade, dangling in front of the light, was a ring. A diamond ring.
My hands shaking a little, I tugged on the thread securing the ring, and it tumbled into my hand, the stone catching fire in the light from the bulb. I turned it over, studying the simple gold band and the large, brilliant diamond.
“It was my mother’s,” Gage said, from across the room. Startled, my hand closed over the ring, and I looked up to see him in the hidden doorway, watching me.
“The ring,” he said, clarifying. “It was my mother’s. My father gave it to her a few months after they started dating. He always said he knew the moment he saw her that she was it for him. I never really knew what he meant until the night I met you. I held you in my arms, and I knew I never wanted to let you go.”
I stared at Gage in shock, my mouth hanging open, the ring clutched tightly in my hand. The diamond cut into my palm, but I didn’t care.
I was never letting go. Not of the ring, and not of Gage.
“I didn’t want you to,” I admitted. “I knew I should, knew I could lose my job, but I didn’t care. You were in my heart from the beginning.”
Gage crossed the room and took my hand, gently pulling my fingers back from the ring. Taking it, he turned my hand over and said, “Sophie, will you marry me? I want to have a life with you. A family. I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy.”
“Yes,” I whispered. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” A tear streaked down my cheek as he slid the ring on my finger, and I barely registered Gage nodding to someone at the door. Turning, I caught a flash of Amelia’s satisfied smile and Aiden’s grin before the door shut, and we were alone.
“You got Amelia to help you prank me with a ring?” I asked, looking between Gage’s face to the diamond sparkling on my hand. The ring was a simple solitaire, but it wasn’t plain. The diamond was too big, had too much fire, to ever be plain. It was perfect, mostly because it came from Gage.
“It seemed fitting,” Gage said, drawing me into his arms.
“You got it wrong, then.” At Gage’s confused look, I explained, “Pranks are always a little mean. A joke at someone else’s expense.” I held my hand out between us. “This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“Then it’s not a prank; it’s a surprise.”
“You gave me your mother’s ring,” I said, looking at my hand on his shoulder, the way the big diamond sparkled against the dark blue of his suit. I knew how much it meant that he’d not just asked me to marry him, he’d asked with this ring. His mother’s ring.
“She’d love you wearing it. Both of them would have loved you. You’re smart and stubborn, and just the sound of your voice makes my heart beat faster.”
“Gage,” I whispered, more tears spilling over my cheeks. I didn’t want to cry, but my heart was so full I couldn’t hold it in.
“When I came back to Winters House,” he said. “I was a mess. I wanted to get my life back, and I had no clue where to start. Then you were here, and I knew that whatever else happened, as long as I was with you, everything would be all right. I’m still a mess, but if we’re together, I’ll get through.”
“Always. You’ll always have me,” I promised. “And you’re not a mess. Neither am I. We’re just two people, doing the best we can.”
“Angel,” Gage whispered, and his mouth took mine. I understood why Amelia had shut the door when Gage backed me to the couch, his hands on the belt of my robe. “Have I ever told you how much I love this robe?”
“This robe?” I asked, a little breathless from his kiss. I looked down at the bulky, waffle-weave white cotton in confusion. Gage peeled it off to reveal a white, silk, knee-length slip. It wasn’t terribly revealing, but it was sexier than my normal white cotton. His eyes dilated, and he drew in a breath.
“This robe,” he confirmed, dropping it to the floor and examining me in the white silk. “It covers everything, and only I know what you’re hiding underneath.” With one finger, he traced my shoulder, sliding under the narrow strap of the slip and flicking it off to fall to my arm. The silk slid, hanging on the tip of my breast.
Gage nudged it all the way down, baring me. He stared down, his eyes hot and intent, a mix of love and lust that had me melting. I went to work on his tie, tugging at it. I still hadn’t gotten the hang of stripping him out of his suits, but I was getting faster. His jacket was on the floor, his shirt mostly open, when he stepped out of his suit pants, pulled my underwear over my hips and dragged me to the couch.
I was on his lap, straddling him, while we were both still half dressed. Neither of us cared. His thick cock was right there, pressing between my legs. I’d worry about our clothes later. I rose up on my knees and shifted over him until the head of his cock touched my sex. Sinking down slowly, I let out a long groan against his neck.
Nothing felt as good as Gage. Inside me, filling me. He was a part of me, my heart, and when he made love to me, I felt him in every bit of me, body and soul.
Gage loved for me to be on top, but he couldn’t help taking over. His big hands closed over my hips, and he fucked his cock up into me, grinding into my clit, making me cry out his name.
We didn’t last long. I meant to. I tried to hold out, but the way Gage held me against him, whispering in my ear how much he loved me, was too much. I came in a rush that took me by surprise, my body squeezing his until he followed me with a hoarse shout.
As soon as we had our breath back, Gage stood, setting me on my feet. Carefully, he pulled the strap of my slip back up over my shoulder and wrapped me in my robe, loosely belting it at my waist. He didn’t bother with his suit jacket, but put his pants back on, even stopping to straighten the pillows.
My heart squeezed with love. I knew Gage wouldn’t care if we left our clothes littering the library, but I might die of embarrassment if I knew Mrs. W had found them in the morning. Gage took my left hand, raising it to his lips, and kissed the ring he’d placed on my finger.
“Soon,” he said, in his low rumble. “I don’t care if it’s big or small, but I want to marry you soon.”
“Here,” I answered. “Next month when the peonies are blooming in the garden. Just family. I don’t want a big show. I just want you.”
“Done,” Gage said. “I’ll get Mrs. W on it tomorrow, first thing. You get Amelia, Charlie, and Maggie to help you find a dress.” He paused and tugged the lapel of my robe. “Or just get married in this. As long as you’re there, waiting for me, it’ll be the best day of my life.”
My eyes misted with tears and I didn’t see him move as he scooped me into his arms and strode for the door. The hall beyond was empty, the house quiet. When Gage turned for the stairs, I let out a little sound of protest.
He silenced me with a firm kiss and said, “Not tonight, Angel. Tonight, you sleep with me.”
I didn’t argue. I’d resisted sleeping in Gage’s bed because I hadn’t wanted to come to him there as another man’s wife, no matter the circumstances. But now I was my own. Anthony was gone, and I’d pledged myself, heart and soul, to Gage.
He carried me up to his suite, our suite, and didn’t put me down until we were in the bedroom. I watched him strip off his suit with hungry eyes, and knew we wouldn’t sleep all night.
This time, for the best reason of all. Love.
Turn the Page for a Sneak Peek of Annalise’s Story, Engaging the Billionaire
Sneak Peek
Engaging The Billionaire
Prologue: Annalise
He lay in the hospital bed, eyes closed, his chest rising and falling with every breath. He was alive. That was something.
Life had taught me to expect the worst. When I’d been summoned to the emergency room my head had been filled with disaster. Death. My stomach was already twisting, my heart sick with grief. But Riley wasn’t dead.
He was unconscious and his arm was broken, but so far that was it. The nurse told me he’d woken once, to ask for me, and was simply sleeping. I was having a hard time believing her. I’d been sitting by Riley’s hospital bed for hours, holding his hand, waiting.
If this was normal sleep, he would have woken. Wouldn’t he?
The white bandage wrapped around his head was a jarring contrast to his tanned skin and dark hair. Riley couldn’t be hurt. Riley was strong and smart. Riley was everything. Since the day we’d met, he’d taken over my life. It seemed impossible that anything, even a pickup truck and a drunk driver, could slow him down.
The nurse came back in, narrowing her eyes at the sight of Riley, still asleep.
“Shouldn’t he be awake by now?” I asked.
She spared me a sidelong glance as she checked his vitals and made notes on the chart. “Not necessarily. The doctor can tell you more when he does rounds, but your boyfriend has a concussion and a broken arm. So far, that’s it. No internal bleeding and his brain isn’t swelling. I would have expected him to be up by now, but I don’t think there’s cause to worry.”
She patted my shoulder as she left. I didn’t think you were supposed to go to sleep when you had a concussion, but it seemed ridiculous to question the nurse. I knew nothing about head injuries and she was a medical professional. If she wasn’t worried, I shouldn’t be either. I knew that. It didn’t seem to make a difference. I wanted Riley to open his eyes.
His dark lashes fanned against his cheeks, hiding the green-flecked hazel of his eyes. I loved Riley’s eyes. They were the first thing about him to capture my attention.
I’d been watching him for two months before we officially met. He sat three rows ahead of me in Intro to Psychology. Three rows up and just enough to my right that I could stare at his profile when I was supposed to be paying attention in class.
One day, as he stood to grab his backpack, he’d looked up and his eyes met mine. Warm, light hazel framed by the kind of long lashes men never appreciated and women envied. A strong blade of a nose, dark hair a little too long, and the hint of a tattoo peeking up from the collar of his gray T-shirt.
He was prime eye candy for a girl like me. He wasn’t too pretty. None of that highly polished, pampered look I’d been over by the time I hit my teens. I’d grown up around rich boys with their expensive haircuts and overpriced watches. Designer clothes didn’t do it for me. The way that gray T-shirt stretched over his arms definitely did.
He slung his backpack over his shoulder, locked those hazel eyes onto mine, and winked. My heart stopped in my chest. By the time I’d recovered, he was gone. I’d never looked forward to a class as much as I did the next session of Intro to Psych. He was there, in the same seat he always took — three rows up and four to my right.
The class went by in a blur. I took notes, but later I realized none of them made sense. I spent most of my time studying the curve of his ear, the way his hair was a little too long in the back, curling up over the collar
of his T-shirt, this time a faded navy blue with the logo of a classic rock band on the front.
His jaw, the side of it I could see, was clean-shaven and strong. His shoulders were broad and his left arm was just muscled enough to be sexy. I could tell you I didn’t sketch the edges of his tattoo, visible below the T-shirt sleeve, but I’d be lying.
That time, when he winked at me, I had just enough composure to smile back. I leaned down to grab my own backpack, and when I looked up he was gone. Again.
We played that game for another week, and suddenly it seemed like I saw him everywhere. Checking his mail at the student union, waiting in line in the cafeteria. Every time I caught sight of him my heart sped up.
I thought about approaching him, planned on it, but when I had the chance I chickened out. My mystery man was older than the rest of us, at least by a few years. He had a detached air about him that was intimidating, even to me.
I’m not easily intimidated. Not by most people. I’m Annalise Winters. Yes, one of those Winters. The Winters family of Winters Incorporated, heir to a company whose value dwarfed most country’s GDPs. I’d been born a billionaire.
Most people thought that made me lucky. In some ways it did. I didn’t have to worry about tuition. I’d never had to worry about paying bills or going hungry. I had a beautiful home and a sweet, tricked out SUV my oldest cousin had gotten me for my high school graduation.
But I don’t know that ‘lucky’ was a good description of my life. I also had two dead parents, victims of a murder/suicide that had drawn relentless media coverage, a clusterfuck that had only gotten worse when the aunt and uncle who raised me died in an almost identical crime when I was seventeen.