Because this wasn’t just a house. This was a castle with turrets and multiple wings. All they needed was a giant drawbridge and gate instead of the two huge double doors. But Evan probably didn’t even see it like that. My man grew up in this place so to him, it was normal.
I swallowed again and locked my knees under the designer dress. It’s gonna be okay, the voice in my head whispered. He’s into you, meeting his parents won’t be so bad.
But the words didn’t do much unfortunately. My fingers trailed nervously at the hem of my dress, picking at the soft material. He likes you, the voice came again. Don’t worry, it’s gonna be fine. What man would buy mountains of stuff if he didn’t care?
That was true, and even the memories made me shiver. I felt like Cinderella, whisked from poverty and plunked in the middle of unspeakable riches. New lingerie, new dresses, shorts, blouses, even hats I’d probably never wear, unless it was the Kentucky Derby every day.
When I got home with all the bags, they didn’t even fit into my bedroom. I had to leave some in my tiny kitchen and living room, parcels scattered about. But that didn’t stop Mr. Lincoln.
Because sweeping packages to the side, he hauled me onto my tiny bed and took me once more. Again and again, that hot rod deep in my snatch, making me scream with pleasure.
It was so good.
So dramatic.
So exciting.
Is this normal?
Are you supposed to have non-stop sex with man? Someone that you don’t know very well?
But I feel like I’m getting to know him at light speed.
The way he talks.
The way he grins.
The way he eyes my body when he’s hungry.
Because this time, the alpha got so deep into me, I felt it all the way in my heart. His creamy seed pumped into me over and over, so much that I saw stars. Literal stars, bright flashes that sparkled before my eyes. I should have told him to wear a condom, but it slipped my mind.
Again.
This was supposed to be part of our pact.
Part of the agreement.
Twenty thousand dollars for a month as a fake fiancée.
Our bodies curved around one another.
Sex that was protected.
But that’s the thing.
It’s been unprotected every single time.
I should call him out on it.
I should scream and wail, and make like it’s a big deal.
But I don’t. Because making love with Mr. Lincoln feels so good. I love being filled by virile sperm, feeling the hot juices spurt into my insides. I love having it trickle down my thigh afterwards, a naughty, delicious reminder.
It makes me feel marked.
Special.
His property.
But I have to tell Evan to use condoms next time.
I can’t keep being careless like this.
Shaking my head, I straightened my shoulders. This wasn’t time to think about it. Right now, I had to play my role like an actress, to keep up my part of the bargain. So taking a deep breath, I looked at the massive green double doors. A knocker like a Medusa stared back at me, more than a little creepy. Was I supposed to use that to make myself known? It was heavy and intimidating. So I used my knuckles instead, giving a soft rap.
No one answered for a moment but then the door swung open, and a butler greeted me. Wow. Like a real butler in a jacket and tie. Evan’s family had to be really, really rich. This was beyond insane. The man grew up in a castle, and lived here with servants. So different from my humble beginnings in a duplex that was probably as big as their bathroom.
I stammered my greeting.
“Um, hi. I’m here to see Evan.”
The butler bowed.
“Of course, you must be Miss Lake. Welcome. Please come in. The family is waiting for you in the sitting room.”
Tentatively, I stepped over the threshold. And inside, the house was huge. Marble everywhere. Sculptures of Greek gods and slippery looking floors. Huge paintings on the walls and the smell of a crisp room deodorizer. Maybe that’s the smell of money.
With the size of the house, I expected a huge family, maybe some cousins or kids running around. But the house was eerily still, almost like a museum. And glancing through the open sitting room door, I could see it was just Evan and an older couple, refined and elegant. Must be Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln.
At the wide entrance to the sitting room, the butler paused and actually announced me like we were in a scene from Downtown Abbey.
“Miss Margaret Lake for dinner.”
His voice rang out like a bell in the giant sitting room. And immediately, all three Lincolns turned.
Evan grinned and put his drink down, that massive build formal in a dark suit. Long strides ate up the distance between us as he leaned forward to kiss my cheek.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured. “You look gorgeous.”
Despite my nerves, I flushed and smiled back at him.
“Thanks, you picked it out,” I whispered, indicating the floral silk dress with a high neckline and full sleeves. Perfect for meeting your fiancé’s parents.
My man steered me around, one arm planted securely around my waist.
“Mom, Dad,” he called casually. “This is Maggie, my new fiancée. The girl I’ve been telling you about.”
I tried not to stare, but couldn’t help it. Because these folks were so different from people from my everyday life.
Mr. Lincoln actually looked like a bulldog, short and squat, with no neck. His turtleneck and dark pants only made the impression worse. Bowzer in man form, for real, with the same scowl on his face.
His mom, though, was a swan, long, lean and lovely, very elegant. She wore a white, slim-fitting dress over her thin body and high heels. This lady did not give a damn that it was after Labor Day.
Standing there with Evan in the giant house with everything shiny and gold-colored, they all looked very rich.
Different from me.
Light years away from my dad who grew up a lobsterman, hands rough and chapped, face red from sea wind.
So different from my stepmom, who was the wife of a lobsterman, but fancied herself hoity-toity Boston uppercrust society. It was awful the way she put on airs, even wearing white gloves just for the hell of it. Plus, my stepsisters were just as bad. Mary and Alice actually renamed themselves Madison and Tinsley, can you believe it? They thought the new names fit better with where they wanted to go, which was up.
But none of that seemed funny at the moment. Because now I was boring Margaret, humble Maggie at my best, someone who didn’t fit in. I flushed, heart beating fast. I didn’t belong here, that much was clear.
“Thank you, Butler,” Evelyn said, dismissing the elderly man.
Was this guy’s name actually “Butler” too?
Evan’s mother glided across the room with one hand held out, limp and pale.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Maggie. I’m Evelyn Lincoln and that man over there is my husband, Henry.” Her smile was cool but actually had a touch of welcome in it. “We haven’t heard too much about you, but we’re very happy to have you here at last.”
The woman looked into my eyes like she was searching for something, and maybe Evelyn found it. Because her smile got bigger and became more real as she pulled me in for a quick hug then.
“Welcome, dear.”
I blushed and hugged her back. Over her shoulder, Evan grinned before winking. His support made my heart flip over, nerves growing calm. With this man I could do anything, scale giant mountains, even fly over treetops with him by my side.
So I turned to the older woman, a warm smile on my face.
“Thank you for the welcome, Mrs. Lincoln.”
“Please call me Evelyn, sweetheart. Mrs. Lincoln is too formal.”
“And call me Henry.” Evan’s father came up behind us, his voice gruff. The older man took my hand in a rough handshake, one that pumped my wrist and elbow. Ouch. He was just like
Bowzer with a giant bone.
Evelyn stared meaningfully at her husband.
“Henry stop that. This isn’t one of your construction guys, this is a lovely lady. Come sit with me, Maggie,” she gestured to the seat beside her. “We’ve been looking forward to meeting you. Tell us a little about yourself.”
But then her son interceded.
“Ma, I think dinner’s ready. Cook will be upset if we don’t eat while it’s piping hot.”
His mother nodded, standing gracefully.
“True, true,” she hummed. And then turning to me, she said in a conspiratorial whisper, “We’ve had Cook with us since Evan was five, and he’s always so good to the help. My son was such a rambunctious little boy, but he’s got a heart of gold, treating everyone here like they’re family.”
I nodded, heart going pitter patter. That meant a lot because it spoke well of the man I adored. He was good to everyone, even those who were on his payroll. But suddenly, my stomach seized because these were all dreams. I was getting carried away. My name was on that payroll as well, nothing more than another employee.
Oh god.
I forgot.
This was all a farce, and we were doing it for business reasons.
After the clock struck twelve, I’d be left with my pumpkin again. There’d be no prince, no castle, no doting in-laws.
Inside, my heart shriveled, but my lips smiled on their own.
Duty calls. A job is still a job.
“Perfect,” was my inane word. “Can’t wait for dinner.”
Mrs. Lincoln spoke again.
“Evan gave Cook a treat when he told her you were coming over. Usually, she just makes meals for the two of us, or four if Evan comes over with his sister. So Cook went overboard, making a little of everything.”
I smiled my plastic smile again, forcing mirth into my eyes.
“I’m sure I’ll love it,” came my slightly wooden words. But that would never do. I had to earn the twenty thousand dollars. So clearing my throat, I smiled a real smile this time.
“Sounds wonderful,” came my words. “I love eating, so I’m sure it’ll be amazing.”
Evelyn laughed, a merry, tinkling sound.
“Oh good,” came her smile. “Come this way, dear.”
And ushering me into the formal dining room caused me to gasp all over again. Of course, the table itself seemed bigger than my whole apartment. It was big enough for twenty people but four place settings were set out at one end, clustered elegantly around the head. Flowers bloomed graciously, the china and silver sparkling under the chandelier.
And as soon as we were seated, servants came in and started presenting dinner. Platter after platter of delicious items appeared, so beautiful that they looked like play food, and not the real thing.
Could turkey really be that rich pinky-white color, browned just so at the edges?
Could mashed potatoes really be so creamy and white, with small flecks of aromatic parsley thrown in?
Could asparagus be so vibrantly green, crispy yet just soft enough to chew?
And with gusto, I dug in. I’ve never been the type of girl to shy away from a square meal, and now was no exception. So I ate morsel after morsel, savoring the experience, letting the food consume my senses.
And the entire time, Evan smiled at me like a real fiancé. In my opinion, the man even went a little overboard. Since when do alpha males tenderly wipe sauce from their fiancée’s mouths? Since when do billionaires carefully keep their female’s water glasses full, jumping up before the steward could do it?
But Evan was solicitous, attending to my every need. His parents noticed for sure.
“Look at this son of mine,” Henry boomed. He turned to his wife. “Finally, he brings a nice girl home that can appreciate the good things.” The man scooped another piece of lasagna into his mouth, devouring it whole.
“Yes, absolutely,” murmured Evelyn, delicately biting into a piece of sole. “Usually Evan doesn’t bring anyone home, so we’re happy to meet you.”
But I wanted to know more about my man.
“So what was Evan like when he was a boy?” I asked curiously, shooting a small smile towards the dark man. “I imagine he must have been trouble.”
Henry chortled heartily.
“More than trouble! Our boy almost got himself thrown out of boarding school.”
Boarding school? One of those fancy elite places with ivy-covered stone buildings? So different from dumpy McGinley High, my alma mater.
Evelyn nodded.
“Our son was almost kicked out after another student cheated on an exam and said he got the answer key from Evan.”
My head turned sharply to the alpha. Really? Cheating? I never would have guessed. Maybe it was a childhood transgression gone wrong, a bad decision way back when he was young.
But Evelyn continued.
“It turned out that boy had mental issues,” she said. “Evan was never involved, the whole thing was a figment of poor Charlie’s imagination. I feel for him,” she said seriously. “But the most interesting thing is that Evan never gave up on Charlie, isn’t that right? You didn’t say a word in your defense.”
My head swiveled to the billionaire with surprise. He just took it? That didn’t seem like the Mr. Lincoln I knew. The man I knew would have crushed his opposition, grinding them into smithereens.
But Evan knew what I was thinking. Slowly, that strong jaw nodded.
“Charlie’s not normal,” he growled. “Even way back then you could tell. Charlie was off his rocker with weird hallucinations, saying shit that just didn’t make sense.”
I continued to stare.
“Why didn’t you say something in your own defense though?” was my question. “Why didn’t you say something to clear your name, if you actually had nothing to do with it?”
Those blue eyes were clear as they took me in, blunt finger tapping the tabletop thoughtfully.
“Because Charlie was a victim. Even though he was spewing all sorts of lies, it was clear as day that he was a victim as well. A victim to the demons in his mind, the voices in his head. And I didn’t want to compound the issue. Everything was going to get figured out, it just needed time to unwind.”
I sat silent, flabbergasted. Because this wasn’t the Evan I knew. This was a man with heart, one who sympathized with people those who needed help. Here was a man who treated other people with kindness and empathy, who didn’t use his position to squeeze out every last drop of advantage.
Here was a man I could love.
After all, the evidence was mounting. How his staff adored him, ever since he was a little boy. How his sister relied on him to care for Bowzer last minute. And now, how Mr. Lincoln showed mercy to someone with mental issues, refusing to throw Charlie under the bus even when it was his right.
I was thunderstruck.
At fifteen, I would have blurted anything to clear my name.
But instead, Evan had done the mature thing. He’d waited for events to turn, sure that Charlie’s mental illness would reveal itself soon enough.
And the alpha had been right.
Confident.
Sure and strong.
I turned wide brown eyes to my lover, filled with turbulent emotion. Because for the first time, I felt I could accurately call Mr. Lincoln my lover. Not someone I had sex with, letting him rule my body. Not someone that I physically craved, helpless at those clever hands.
But someone who was worthy of loving.
Worthy of my adoration.
My praise.
Everything my heart had to give.
And the rest of the meal passed in a blur. I tried to pay attention, saying yes and no when expected, smiling sunnily with my legs demurely crossed.
But there was a change in the air. Because seeing Evan in this setting shed a whole new light on the situation. I thought that observing the prince in his castle would turn me off. I thought that meeting the King and Queen would make my heart ice over, under
lining the chasm between us.
But I was wrong.
Seeing the alpha here, in his natural setting, made my head spin. My heart turn. My breath go fast.
Because he’s perfect.
Kind.
Charming.
A man with a heart, who cares about others.
So what do I do now?
I can feel myself falling, spinning, tumbling into the vortex. My soul leaning towards his, like a flower turning towards the sun.
But this can’t be happening.
He can’t be my Prince Charming, not for real.
Because there are no Cinderella stories in real life. In the real world, women have jobs, 9 to 5’s where they come home exhausted to two kids and a dirty house. And everything in my background pointed to that.
A job.
My dreams to be a vet.
A humble life with a blue collar man, scrimping and saving with squalling babies clinging to my breast.
Not this.
Not an elegant dinner in a castle with rich people.
Gourmet food, prepared by a chef called Cook, waited on by a butler called Butler.
These were dreams, nothing more.
But what do I do? The worst has already happened. Because I’m falling for my prince … and there’s no going back.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Evan
I sighed with satisfaction and sat back in the limo as it zoomed towards Maggie’s place. Today had been a good day.
Damn if the dinner with my parents didn’t go off better than I ever hoped.
Maggie was absolutely perfect. She charmed my parents so well, they didn’t even know what hit them. Of course, Evelyn loved Maggie from the get go, my mom’s pretty easy to get along with. But even Henry was eating out of Maggie’s hand by the end of the night, nodding with approval.
I’d be Lincoln Conglomerate’s CEO in no time.
It had been so easy.
Why didn’t I think of this years ago?
But the answer was obvious. It was because she was the right girl. With the right female on your arm, everything rolls along smooth. Hurdles that appeared to be major obstacles fall by the wayside, no longer enormous mountains to scale.
Love Unbound: A Valentine's Day Romance Anthology Page 7