Take My Hand
Brother From Money 7
A sexy billionaire BBW romance by Shanade White of BWWM Club. Features another free bonus book.
Full figured Marissa’s passion is helping people, and she’s not scared to get into danger to do it.
That's why despite her successful fashion line, she regularly helps charities, some of which are targets from less than friendly people.
One day, her father drops a bombshell on her - due to a business contract of his, she has to marry Scott Terrell.
Scott, though handsome and from a billionaire family, has made bad business choices, and his father wants him to have a new start.
Marissa finds herself falling for the lovable rogue, and soon they’re burning it up in the bedroom.
She also learns they’re seem to be perfect for each other.
But when one of Marissa’s charity missions in Florida goes awry, that could be the end of everything.
She’s kidnapped and forced onto a boat with other women by men with ill intentions.
Can Scott step up to the plate and save the day?
Or will Marissa’s life turn into a nightmare?
Find out in this gripping yet sexy romance by Shanade White of BWWM Club.
Suitable for over 18s only due to sex scenes so hot, you’ll dream of your own hot stranger coming to rescue you.
Tip: Search BWWM Club on Amazon to see more of our great books.
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
Bonus Book - The Billionaire's Russian Mail Order Husband
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
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Chapter 1
Marissa checked her makeup in the mirror once more wishing she could do something about the dark circles under her eyes. She hadn’t gotten in until late the night before; the bachelorette party she’d been attending had gotten a little wilder than she’d expected and she was never one to miss the opportunity to have a little fun. That her fun would be plastered all over the internet this morning was only a bonus. She needed to get out of town for a few days and this would provide the perfect opportunity.
With a sigh, she put on her lipstick, a bright shade of red that would annoy her father this early in the morning. Besides never missing an opportunity to have some fun, Marissa never missed an opportunity to annoy her father, which seemed to be the only way she could get his attention. Not for the first time, she wished she could be more like her twin sister Clarissa, who had managed to ignore all the heartbreak their adoptive father had put them through over the years.
As close as she and her sister were, they were two very different people. While her sister was happy to keep the peace at home, Marissa liked nothing more than to stir things up. At twenty-five, she was old enough to know that she should be able to forgive her father for the choices he’d made in life, but she was still holding on to the anger that had shaped her path in life early on. That anger had begun almost the moment her adoptive mother had died when she was twelve and had continued to grow as her father had married one woman after another in an attempt to replace his wife.
Wife number six or seven, Marissa wasn’t sure how to count number four, who he’d married twice, had just packed her bags and left a few days ago. Marissa and Clarissa had watched her from the attic window as she screamed at the groundskeeper who was carrying her bags to a waiting cab. They hadn’t exchanged a word as they watched that day, the scene all too familiar. Predictably, the summons to join him this morning in his study had followed shortly after the cab had disappeared into the trees that lined the property.
Taking one last look in the mirror, she slipped on the shoes that matched her cream colored silk pantsuit. The color provided a wonderful contrast to her caramel colored skin and made her chocolate brown eyes seem even warmer. With her corkscrew curls pulled back from her face, she was the picture of youth and vitality. Looking at herself in the three-way mirror on her way out the door, she once again wished she could drop that pesky ten pounds that seemed to keep her generous curves in a size 14 no matter how hard she tried.
But it was those curves and her size 14 body that had made her fashion house one of the most popular on the internet today, a happy accident that she’d taken advantage of, to not only fund her real passion but to provide the cover she needed to engage in that passion. Hearing her sister’s steps pass by her door, she sprayed on some perfume and with one last glance in the mirror left the room.
When she walked through the door of her father’s study, she immediately felt the tension in the room, then understood why. Her father had a picture of her up on his computer screen. Her cheeks flamed a bit when she saw it, but then she squared her shoulders. She’d known exactly what she’d been doing last night. Even if the story going around was that she’d been drunk at the time, she’d been completely sober.
It had been a calculated move to get up on that stage with the male stripper and pull off her top. Her blush deepened when she remembered how powerful she’d felt up there, dancing around the stage in her bra. As she’d predicted, pictures had started showing up on the internet before they’d even left the bar, giving her the perfect excuse for one of her spa retreats that always followed one of these “drunken” escapades.
Trying to look embarrassed and sorry, she took a seat next to her sister across from their father, who was seated at his desk. As soon as she sat down, he began speaking. “I called you both here to talk about Stephanie leaving, but something else has come to my attention this morning,” he said, turning his monitor so Marissa could see it.
“Oh, Dad, I was just having some fun. No harm done,” Marissa said, waving her hand in the air.
Her father stared at her until she began squirming in her chair. He’d never reacted this way before and it was making her nervous that he seemed truly angry. “Marissa, you’re twenty-five years old, too old to be behaving this way. It’s become an embarrassing situation for all of us.”
Marissa looked to her sister for some support, but Clarissa only looked at her hands clasped in her lap. Her sister knew exactly what Marissa was up to, was in fact only one of a handful of people who understood that her fashion business was really just a screen for Marissa’s real vocation, but she’d never defend Marissa’s actions to her father. With a sigh, she prepared herself for another one of his lectures about how important appearances were to his business, a lecture she’d heard many times in the past.
Normally, she’d ge
t a lecture from him, followed by an order to make herself scarce for a few days, which was her goal all along. But today something seemed different, her father looked like he’d had enough. She’d seen that look plenty of times in the past although she was surprised to see it today. Lately, she’d been sticking close to home, working in Los Angeles, so she’d been behaving herself.
“It really wasn’t that big of a deal, I was only up there for a few minutes,” she tried to explain.
Her father stared at her, a scowl on his face, then said, “I got three calls this morning from board members who saw these pictures. I can’t begin to tell you how much fun that was first thing in the morning.”
“How did they...those pictures usually don’t...” Marissa stuttered. No one on the board had ever complained about her wild antics around town.
“It doesn’t matter, what matters is that I’m tired of this, and I’m worried about you,” he said, his voice softening a little bit.
Marissa took a deep breath. She wanted to defend herself, tell him that she wasn’t the drunk socialite he thought she was, but that would only open the door to more questions. The last thing she wanted was for him to start asking questions, so she decided to use her anger at him to make him back off.
“I was just so upset about Stephanie leaving that I might have drank a little more than I should have. It’s just so hard to lose another mother,” she said, not even pretending to feel the sadness she spoke of.
She could feel her sister cringe next to her, but she wasn’t going to back down. Although she was using anger to defray the attention from herself, the anger was real. Sitting up straighter in her chair, she waited for her father’s anger, which followed just as predictably as always. His face turned several shades of red, then he took a deep breath and reached into the top drawer of his desk.
“I’m done being held responsible for your wild behavior, it’s someone else’s turn,” he said, shoving a stack of papers toward her.
She picked up the papers and flipped through them, her shock growing by the second. “You can’t honestly expect me to fulfill this contract?” she asked incredulously.
“I do and you will,” her father said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair.
“This is archaic, you can’t honestly expect me to marry this man. Who is he anyway? Why would you have done this to begin with?” Marissa said, confused by the turn of events.
“Well, it was more of a joke than anything else, but I’m looking at it as an opportunity right now,” her father said, shrugging his shoulders.
She stared at him for a second, waiting for him to laugh and say he was joking, but he looked serious. “You entered into a marriage contract as a joke?” she finally asked.
“Yeah, Scott Terrell has been after me since the day he took over his father’s business. He thinks he’s unstoppable, unbeatable, so I decided to teach him a little lesson. His plan was to marry his younger brother Marc to one of you two, then get control that way, but the only problem with his plan was that he signed the contract without checking the revisions I added,” her father said, pointing to the pages he’d marked with tabs.
Marissa paged through the marriage contract to where she saw that there was a cancellation penalty of a million dollars; her father had clearly added several zeros onto the original number. He’d also changed the wording in one paragraph so that the contract included all Marc’s brothers as well.
“I still don’t understand,” she said, not able to believe that he was going to make her get married. “You can’t expect me to marry this Marc person without even meeting him. You can’t make me, this isn’t the old days.”
“No, I can’t make you, but I can cut you off. That might not mean that much to you since your business seems to be doing fine, but I will do it. You’ve got to stop this destructive behavior one way or another,” he said, emphasizing his last words.
Marissa sat looking at the marriage contract in her hands, unable to believe the words she was hearing. Her father had threatened to cut her off if she didn’t get married. It was hard to believe he’d go that far, but one look at his face told her that he was serious. With shaking hands, she set the contract back on the desk and sat back in her chair, mind spinning at the possibilities.
On her own, the fashion house would have been able to support her just fine, but she had other responsibilities and the money her father gave her went a long way to fulfilling those. Without his money, she wouldn’t be able to do all that she did, help all the people she did, but could she really give up her freedom for the cause she believed in. She’d sacrificed a lot over the last few years, but this was by far the biggest sacrifice she’d been asked to make.
“As it turns out,” her father continued, assuming he had her agreement. “Marc has gotten himself involved with someone, so he’s unavailable. So, that leaves you with the oldest brother Scott. I hear he’s as much a pain in his father’s ass as you are in mine, so you two should get along fine.”
Marissa was silent, her mind spinning with the path her life had just taken. She had a terrible choice to make and there was no way she could do it sitting her with her father. Needing to escape, she took a deep breath and said, “Whatever, it’s not like it’s for the rest of my life, not even you can make me stay married to him forever. You have certainly show me that marriage doesn’t have to last a lifetime.” Then said, she got up and walked out of the room.
“I’ll email you Scott’s information, the sooner you get in touch with him the better,” her father shouted after her as she stomped up the stairs, thinking that this was the perfect reason for her to skip town for a few days.
Scott sat behind his desk in the south wing of the house, an overflowing box of documents at his feet, and thought about where he was going to go from here. He’d woken up this morning filled with the same conviction that he’d woken with for most of his life, a conviction that if his childhood had been different he’d have been different. This was always quickly followed by the need to punish someone for his unhappiness, it didn’t matter who, but it was always especially rewarding when he could take it out on his little brother Michael.
Since he’d been sent home from Colorado like a child, he’d been plotting against his father, looking for anyway to get himself back on the board of directors. He’d even considered having him declared incompetent and put in a home, but his brothers probably wouldn’t have let that happen. Well, Michael wouldn’t anyway; he had no idea where Marc was since he’d disappeared almost a month ago without a word.
He had to admit, at least to himself, that things in Colorado had gotten out of hand, but it had just been so frustrating to once again see Michael succeeding when he’d tried so hard to sabotage him. Finding him with Annabelle on top of that had made him even angrier. It just wasn’t fair that Michael had gotten everything he wanted once again, when Scott would have liked to have been the one with a pretty new girlfriend and the great new business.
He never would have used the gun, it was just a prop to show Michael how serious he was. He’d been telling himself that for weeks now, but deep down he’d scared even himself that night. His anger had seemed to suddenly have a life of its own. When he’d surfaced from the rage he’d felt at Michael’s refusal to help him, he’d found the gun in his hand and known that he’d gone too far, so it had come as no surprise when his father showed up the next day.
He’d boarded the plane for home with his usual bluster, but inside he’d been afraid of what might have happened. He’d always hated his brother Michael, but violence had never entered his mind until that night. He’d only had the gun because he and Marc had been out target shooting earlier that day, but even he couldn’t ignore the fact that pulling that gun on Michael was the act of a desperate man. His father had sent him home to think about what he’d done like he was a child, but in reality he’d done just that.
For the first twenty-four hours at least, then it reverted to blame and anger w
hich had been the only way he’d learned to cope with disappointment. Within days of learning that his father had not only the power to remove him from his position in the family business, but had done so, he’d hired a team of lawyers to fight back. But after a half a million dollars in attorney fees and an ugly front page news story that he’d had nothing to do with, he was right back where he’d started.
The company that he’d worked so hard to make worth billions of dollars was completely inaccessible to him, as was the money tied up in the company. He’d been so confident when he’d taken over as CEO that he hadn’t even read the contract his dad had given him. He’d been unaware that although he would be running the company, he’d have no real ownership. Other than his salary, which had been substantial, the billions of dollars he’d made over the last seven years belonged to his father and the few other stock holders.
The loss of the money had been a blow to him, but he couldn’t help but feel some respect for his father who’d had clearly been smarter than Scott had given him credit for. His attorney had spelled all this out for him in no uncertain terms during their last appointment this morning, and he’d listened to someone besides himself for the first time in years. Now he’d cleaned out his desk, planning to shred everything that had accumulated over the last month in his quest to wrestle control from his father.
It was one more blow to his already strained ego, one that he simply let wash over him bringing with it a kind of numbness that he welcomed. This had been his last fight and he’d lost. Now there was nothing left to do but back away from his old life, salvage what he could, and move on. He had no idea where he was going to go from here; he’d never been free to go where he pleased.
Finding that it wasn’t such a bad feeling after all, he started the shredder and began feeding documents into it. He was about halfway through the box, the noise from the shredder loud enough to be heard all over the house, when his father slammed a copy of the newspaper down on his desk. He jumped at the sound, then braced himself expecting more to come, but his father only stood in the doorway glaring at him for a long time.
Take My Hand: BWWM Romance Page 1