Marry Your Billionaire: A Modern Cinderella

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Marry Your Billionaire: A Modern Cinderella Page 19

by C. J. Anaya


  She’d managed to outfox Brody and the crew by taking a taxi back to the yacht and hiding in one of the cabins as they sailed to the island. She didn’t have the fortitude necessary to smile on camera and pretend that her heart wasn’t breaking after the events of the day.

  Midge sat on her bed furiously typing away on her laptop, writing nothing but pure drivel, yet unable to collect her thoughts enough to make the chemistry between her main characters sizzle rather than fizzle. The complete and total panic she felt at the idea of she and Brody kissing one another on camera…again…did not afford her much concentration.

  She flopped back on her bed and massaged her temples muttering “There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home,” under her breath, but no matter how much she wished it, she was most definitely stuck on an island filming a reality TV series with a guy she shouldn’t be falling for but found herself in danger of doing exactly that.

  Then there was the problem of that kiss.

  Maybe, considering the circumstances the kiss was given in, she could still leave despite Brody’s promise to only kiss someone he was serious about. No one would expect him to deny such a heartfelt request from a young cancer patient, and no one would hold him accountable if he didn’t continue to pursue her afterward. She could still be safely eliminated without it reflecting badly on Brody.

  There was no hope for it. She would need to brave a confrontation with him, and perhaps appeal to his sympathetic nature. Maybe saying please would do the trick. Attempting to engage Brody in conversation with no one else around was slightly dangerous. He’d hardly behave if no cameras were present. Then again, he hadn’t felt inclined to behave when they were rolling either so it was all one big crap shoot either way you looked at it. And Midge was looking at it. The very possibility that he might steal a kiss from her again made her face flush and her heart thump out of sync, but there was a cocktail party tonight and another diamond ceremony immediately following. She absolutely had to get away from him before her firm resolve liquefied into a runny puddle of acceptance.

  Without thinking her actions through any further, she wrenched open her door and marched across the hallway to his. She wrapped a knuckle on his imposing door and expelled a nervous gust of air.

  The door opened, revealing Brody in all his male glory, bare from the waist up. His thunderstruck expression at her attempt to seek him out matched that of Midge’s as she threw a hand over her eyes.

  “Do you always come to the door without a shirt on?” She kept her hand firmly planted across her eyes, and even glued them shut for good measure. She didn’t trust herself to not peek out between her fingers.

  “I do once I’ve checked the peep hole and made certain that the love of my life is awaiting me on the other side.”

  “Hilarious, Brody. Go put a shirt on before I have an anxiety induced coronary.” She broke down and opened her eyes, sneaking a glance between her fingers at the magnificently chiseled lines of his chest and stomach. Her thoughts tumbled around within her brain like clothes in a dryer set to high heat.

  Sweet maple syrup was followed by Holy chest and abs Batman as she took in a deep breath and reluctantly squeezed her eyes shut, completely disgusted with her pathetic lack of will power.

  “Not the reaction I was hoping for, Madelyn, but I’ll admit that such chiseled perfection might be difficult to take in for the very first time.” The tease in his tone was irresistible. She found herself swaying toward him even though her eyes were still covered. She snapped her spine straight and gave up all pretense of not looking, removing her hand and placing both fists on her hips.

  “This is the second time I’ve viewed such chiseled perfection, as you so humbly put it, only it looks a little different when it isn’t bright green.” She shook her head as he wiggled his eyebrows in a playful gesture.

  “Overwhelmed are you? Not to worry, my dear. I’m happy to walk around with my shirt off if it will help you get used to my manly perfection.”

  “I can’t have a serious conversation with you when you’re half dressed. Go put a shirt on or I’m locking myself in my suite.”

  He shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant manner. “Come on in, and I’ll throw a shirt on.”

  Even though Midge wanted to protest, she thought it better to have this conversation in the privacy of his suite rather than in the hallway where anyone could hear.

  He stepped aside, allowing her to walk past him. Her bare shoulder brushed against his chest and she nearly stumbled in her haste to put some distance between them. She thought she heard a low chuckle from Brody, but chose to ignore it. Once he closed the door, she felt as if she might have just allowed herself to walk into a trap, but Brody, as promised, went immediately to his dresser and pulled out a dark green t-shirt which; unfortunately, accentuated his beautiful biceps. Midge was beginning to wonder if she should ask him to wear an over sized paper bag or maybe just gouge her own eyes out.

  When he turned to look at her again, his entire demeanor went from playful to hungry. The longing she sensed from him struck her with such force she had a hard time convincing herself that she was simply projecting her own emotions onto Brody.

  “Madelyn, what happened at the hospital was—”

  “You need to eliminate me tonight,” she cut in, not wishing to hear him say that the kiss they had shared was all for show and had meant nothing to him.

  His eyes widened in surprise and then flattened with anger. “That’s not going to happen and you know it. I thought we were past this. I thought you understood my intentions are—”

  “I understand why you need me here. Believe me. I get the angle you and my father are working on, but I’m telling you that I am not the right girl to feign a relationship with.”

  He rubbed a frustrated hand through his hair, disheveling it which caused him to look boyishly adorable.

  “You are so stubborn, Madelyn. I’ve told you why I want you here and you’re not hearing me. I don’t know how your impression of my ‘angle’ as you put it has become so skewed, but you aren’t leaving this room until we work it out.”

  “Nothing you have to say is going to change the fact that I can’t act. I can’t pretend to feel something on screen and then behave as if I feel nothing off screen.”

  He crossed to her in two strides and placed his hands on her shoulders, urging her to maintain eye contact.

  “Are you suggesting that you actually feel something for me?”

  Midge gazed up at him in horror. Is that what she’d said? Why hadn’t she thought through this little speech of hers before barreling in when she knew how discombobulated she became around him?

  “I’m suggesting that I’m a bad fit for this role, and I want you to eliminate me tonight so I can get back to my novel, my friends, and my completely perfect life!”

  He inched closer, eyes dark with desire and hope resonating from every particle of him, wrapping around Midge and forcing her to acknowledge that perhaps he felt a certain chemistry when he was around her. Well, she wasn’t about to delude herself into thinking that whatever attraction he may or may not be feeling would be strong enough to capture his attention or engender a lasting commitment.

  “I don’t think that’s what you suggested at all.” He bent his head forward and softly kissed her forehead. “I think you were hoping that what we feel when people are pointing cameras at us is something we can continue feeling when they’re not.”

  Midge made a barely perceptible shake of her head, but that was all the denial she could muster. Words were beyond her at this point. No amount of will-power was going to compel her feet to take one single step away from Brody Prescott.

  Just as she was certain that there would be no escaping the gravitational pull of Brody’s lips a loud knock sounded at the door, causing her to spring away and for Brody to let out a few expletives.

  “Cocktail party in one hour, Mr. Prescott,” came a gruff voice from the other side.

  “Thank yo
u,” Brody said. His voice sounded husky with pent up emotion.

  Midge took the opportunity to maneuver herself around him. “As I said before, Brody, I need to be eliminated tonight. It would behoove you to pick some other girl to enter into a fake romantic relationship.”

  She reached the door and opened it, just as Brody’s voice stopped her in her tracks.

  “I’m not eliminating you, Madelyn. Ever. I don’t care how long it takes for you to believe that there is no angle when it comes to you, but I certainly can’t do that if you’re not here.”

  “You need to let me go,” she said. She kept her back to him as she felt him approach.

  “Never,” he repeated, whispering against her neck.

  She stiffened her back and cleared her throat. “Never say never, Mr. Prescott. You’ll find I’m quite tenacious when I’ve set out to achieve something, and getting eliminated from this ridiculous show is no exception.”

  He placed both hands at her waist and spun her to face him. His intensity made taking in air a real challenge. “I think you’ll find I suffer from the same drive when it comes to getting what I want.”

  She pulled herself away, anger burning low and steady as she faced off with the only other human being on the planet who was quite possibly more stubborn than she.

  “Game on, Mr. Prescott.”

  “If you call me Mr. Prescott again, I’ll be forced to kiss you to remind you of how familiar we really are with one another.”

  She had no doubt he would follow through with his steamy threat…or was it a challenge?

  Midge decided she wasn’t about to stick around and find out. Turning around she exited the room, huffed across the hallway, and slammed her own door behind her.

  When she’d said “Game on” she’d meant it. She was all about taking on a challenge even if it wasn’t the one he had just issued. The infuriating bachelor had given her very little choice at this point.

  This night’s cocktail party was going to be a memorable one. She’d make certain of it.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Did anyone see you sneaking into my room?” Felicia asked Liz.

  Liz shook her perfectly curled hair as she eased herself into the room and took up residence in an overstuffed chair near Felicia’s hot pink bed, an amenity Felicia had insisted upon. She always traveled with her own bed sheets and comforter, and hot pink was, according to her, completely empowering.

  “How soon can we expect little miss Madelyn to turn tail and leave the show?”

  “Well…”

  Liz’s hesitation made Felicia want to wrap her hands around her inept employee’s neck and squeeze. Catching Felicia’s murderous look, Liz hurried to explain.

  “I thought for sure she would cut herself on her pocket knife badly enough to bow out of the group date. I had it sharpened and then left it open in her purse.”

  Felicia’s eyes widened at the young girl’s stupidity.

  “You thought she would reach into her purse and cut her hand badly enough that none of the medics on sight would have the medical know-how to stitch it up?”

  Liz hesitated before answering, most likely sensing a trap, but not entirely certain how to proceed. “Well, certainly not in time to leave for the group date.”

  “Except for the fact that if the cut had been deep enough to warrant serious medical attention, the group date taking place at the hospital would have been quite a fortuitous solution, allowing the medics to rush her to the same locale as Brody and all of those lovely little cameras. Correct?”

  Liz’s face blanched a sickly hue as she recognized her mistake. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know where we were headed before I planted the knife. I was lucky enough to get a look at the list of people going on the date.”

  “Which reminds me, was it totally out of the realm of possibility to slip my name in there while you were taking a peek at it?”

  “The list was typed,” Liz said in an angry huff. “What did you expect me to do? Rush over to Knightly’s computer and retype the damn thing?”

  “It’s what I’m paying you for.”

  “In my defense, I was able to push her into a supply closet and lock her in.”

  Felicia drummed her nails on the oak dresser she was pretending to casually lean against in order to avoid storming over to the worthless girl and causing her some major bodily harm.

  “Did she remain locked in there for long?”

  Liz’s eyes dimmed. Felicia let out an exasperated groan. She reached for her phone sitting on the dresser and turned it to face the stupid girl. She shoved it in her hand and waited as Liz played the YouTube video of the Cinderella reenactment between Brody and Midge. The more she watched, the more her frame appeared to cave in on itself.

  “I had no idea she had that much alone time with Brody. They…certainly put out that footage fairly quickly.”

  “They revealed this scene early as part of a teaser for the next episode. Do you have any idea how many people commented on this particular teaser? It’s all the rage on social media. The public is enamored with the idea of Madelyn Knightly and Brody Prescott falling in love with each other.”

  She slammed her fist against the wall nearly sending a framed painting careening off its hooks.

  “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to sway public opinion when they’ve found someone to cheer for? Now we have another romantic scene for all the world to see, made even more endearing due to the fact that it was all done as a last request by some sick kid on her death bed.”

  “She has cancer, but I think the chemo is actually helping her fight it. She’s got a pretty good chance of survival at the moment.”

  Felicia’s eyes bulged as she attempted to reign in her anger. After running through a few breathing exercises she’d learned from her therapist she took a few steps toward Liz and achieved a brittle smile.

  “Did you manage to do anything to scare her enough to leave this island for good?”

  Liz gulped and shook her head. “I can’t figure Madelyn out. I don’t think she really wants to be on the show. I’m not really sure what her angle is.”

  “Isn’t that something you should know by now?” The calm way in which Felicia delivered her question had Liz leaping to her feet.

  “I’ll do a little more snooping and see what I can find out.”

  Felicia said nothing, simply watched her pathetic P.I. hurriedly slink out of the room with her tail between her legs. She sighed in frustration, so put upon by the complete and total incompetence of people in general. Could nobody execute a plan as flawlessly as she? No, of course not. She may have had a pretty face, but her calculating mind was a well-guarded secret. Nobody ever suspected a pretty blond to be smart enough to pull off the kind of manipulative, diabolical feats she had achieved.

  Another opportunity for Brody to eliminate that little upstart would be tonight, but she highly doubted the man would take it. Not after the way he’d kissed her.

  She had been so close to finally attaining her ultimate meal ticket and grabbing a man she could actually love in the process. She was not about to let her plans come tumbling down around her because the man she wanted to marry had stupidly grown attached to an absolute nobody.

  Though Brody was surrounded by beautiful women willing to shower him with the kind of attention that most men would give their right kidney for, he was completely distracted by the fact that the only woman he wanted attention from still hadn’t arrived at this very important, very mandatory, cocktail party.

  He knew she was desperate to leave, but he hadn’t thought she would simply refuse to show. If his presence wasn’t enough of a motivator, surely her trust fund still held some sway. Or maybe she was so repulsed by him that even the thought of her trust fund and future financial security wasn’t enough to tempt her to spend time with him. That thought nearly compelled him to flat out leave the room and go in search of her. He pinched the bridge of his nose and wondered if he had simply become an unwanted suit
or or worse, an annoying stalker whose obsession with Madelyn was reaching a whole new level of unhealthy.

  The thing that kept him going, that urged him to refuse to let her go, when normally he could take a hint or an obvious rejection if he had to, was his absolute certainty that Madelyn wasn’t completely ambivalent toward him. She felt something when they were together. The way she returned his kisses with impassioned ones of her own could attest to that. Not only did she hold a mutual attraction and affection where he was concerned, but he felt certain that she only held back due to this ridiculous notion that he was playing her. That he wasn’t sincere.

  No. He couldn’t let her go until all of the misunderstandings, the pretenses, and her fears where he was concerned were resolved. If she wanted to deny him after that and flatly refuse to harbor any feelings for him…well, it would hurt like hell, but he would let her go if that was truly her desire.

  But it wasn’t.

  He felt certain of that.

  He also felt certain that developing a relationship with Madelyn on a reality TV series was one of the biggest mistakes he’d ever made, but without the show she didn’t have a shot at her trust fund, and since it was important to her it was important to him.

  Where is she?

  He cast his eyes around again while Charlene chatted to him about a couple of her purebreds and how the mongrels had won several dog shows over the last few years. He could have done without the detailed play-by-play of the various tricks they’d had to perform.

  He noticed a side door opening and heaved a sigh of relief as Madelyn’s head peeked through. Then in stunned surprise he watched her confidently glide into the room wearing the same jeans and American Eagle tee he’d seen her in just an hour ago. She wasn’t wearing her dress, she didn’t have a lick of make-up on, her curls were thrown into a casual ponytail and she’d put on those annoying glasses, refusing him full visage of her adorable freckles again.

  In short, she looked beautiful.

  Her challenging smile shined brightly as she stared at him, and then she walked through the room—ignoring the shocked whispers of the other contestants—out the double French doors and onto the veranda, plopping herself down on a wicker chair and whipping out a book from a purse that looked like it’d been made out of an old pair of jeans. She stuck her nose in it and appeared to become immediately engrossed in the novel.

 

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