Billionaire Games Boxed Set (The Marriage Bargain, The Marriage Caper, The Marriage Fix)

by Edwards, Sandra

  “I feel better knowing Cecily’s claims are unfounded,” Tasha said as her entire body relaxed. She’d hate to think Andre’s ancestor had thrown his sister to the wolves.

  “Hey, listen…” Claudette tapped Tasha’s arm. “I’m going to see if I can direct some of these people into the idea that the party’s over.” She moved to the edge of her chair, looked at Tasha, and said, “You look a little tired.” She didn’t wait for Tasha to say anything, she just got up and moved to the nearest group of guests.

  In a way, Tasha felt sorry for Cecily. It must be a terrible feeling to think you’d somehow been robbed of something. She was determined that would not be a legacy she and Andre left their descendants.

  Tasha sat there for at least fifteen minutes thinking about Emilie’s plight. It’s too bad the girl had been so blinded by love. Tasha hoped she and Camille could teach their daughters—if Tasha ever had a daughter—to be more selective in their choices of men.

  Camille came to her side and sat down in the empty chair next to Tasha. “I do believe the crowd is beginning to thin out.”

  “I hope so.” Tasha had no doubt that Claudette was responsible. Her mother-in-law knew how to get things done.

  “You feeling okay?” Camille asked.

  “I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

  Camille nodded. “I remember feeling tired, especially during the last months.”

  “I’ve resigned myself not to complain, though.” Tasha used to worry about losing the baby, but these days she was getting better about being optimistic. “Not even about Andre.”

  “If Andre is anything like Julian, then you deserve a medal for not complaining about his hovering and overprotective ways.” Camille laughed, and Tasha joined in.

  Neither Tasha nor Andre had signed the divorce papers. They were once again living as man and wife. He’d put up a fight at first when she’d suggested a solution to their problem, but he’d relented when he realized that it was the only way for them to carry on. Tasha and Andre became equal partners in Mont Claire Enterprises.

  Andre poured two more scotches and headed toward his father-in-law, who was standing by the window overlooking the east gardens. “Jim,” Andre said, offering one to him.

  “Thank you.” Jim took it and smiled. Both men sipped their drinks and stood silently for a time. Jim was the first to break the ice. “Andre, I wanted to thank you.”

  “For…?”

  “For taking care of my daughter. For treating her like a princess. For loving her.” He saluted and took another drink.

  “The pleasure has been all mine.” Andre raised his glass. “I promise you, she’ll never want for anything.”

  “What she wants is love. And I don’t think anyone could give her more than you.” Jim was appreciative and his words and expression showed it. “I think that Nola wants nothing more than to stay in Avignon until Tasha has the baby.”

  “I’ll talk to Tasha about it. I’m sure she’d love to have her mother here these last few weeks.”

  “Well…” Jim laughed. “You might have to referee once in a while.”

  “Not sure I’m that brave.” Andre chuckled.

  “Tasha’s grown up a lot in the past year or so.” Jim looked away, but Andre could still see the far away sadness crossing his eyes. Andre could imagine he was thinking about when Tasha was a little girl. It made Andre eager for the birth of his own child. Jim looked back at Andre, “I think she’ll be able to handle her own now…even against her mother.”

  Andre swallowed the remaining contents of his glass. “Jim, what do you say we go see what the women are up to?” He laughed and slapped his father-in-law on the back.

  “That’s a fine idea.” Jim nodded.

  Claudette and Lecie had seen the party guests out, while Camille ushered Tasha upstairs to take a nap. Forty-five minutes later, Tasha awakened, refreshed.

  She got up and went to the window. Her and Andre’s bedroom suite wasn’t the largest at Belle Vallee, but Tasha had chosen this one because she could look down on the south garden and see her little Angel’s memorial stone from the window. Tasha couldn’t explain it, but seeing it somehow gave her a sense of peace. She touched her stomach and the baby kicked. Tasha giggled, overcome with joy.

  From out of nowhere, arms slipped around Tasha, and she knew in an instant it was Andre. She breathed in a happy sigh and turned to face him.

  “I didn’t hear you come in,” she said, sliding her arms around his neck.

  “I gathered that much.” He touched her tummy. The baby kicked. Andre pulled her completely into his embrace. “What were you laughing about?”

  “I wasn’t laughing. I was giggling.”

  “Ah…my mistake.” His lips brushed against hers as he spoke. “What were you giggling about?”

  “I’m so happy.” Her heart sang with delight.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For staying. For forgiving me.”

  “Thank you for making me want to stay.”

  Andre sucked in a sigh. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  “Ooh…before I forget…” His tone changed, turning serious. “I think your mother wants to stay here until the baby’s born.”

  Tasha felt her face skew involuntarily. “My mother…?” She sucked in a deep sigh. “Ooohhhh…” She groaned.

  “Look at it like this…” He mused. “Think what it will do to her to have to stay here day-in and day-out, knowing that you are mistress of this house.”

  Tasha’s frown spread into a smile. “That will drive her nuts.” Numerous scenarios of her mother having to relent to her subordination filled Tasha’s thoughts. “Yes, we should invite her to stay. And put her in the west wing.”

  EPILOGUE

  STANDING OVER TASHA’S HOSPITAL BED, Andre leaned down and kissed her sweetly. The baby boy in her arms gurgled.

  Nola, who was sitting on the other side of the bed, had been quiet up until now. “He’s just beautiful, sweetheart.” She caressed Tasha’s arm.

  During the last two months, mother and daughter had developed a newfound respect for each other. Nola had learned to appreciate the woman Tasha had become, and to let go of the idea that Tasha was simply a vessel to feed Nola’s ego. And Tasha had finally received the love she’d so craved from her mother.

  Andre would like to have taken credit for that, but he knew it was all their doing.

  “He’s absolutely perfect.” Andre straightened up, his eyes still glued to his wife and his baby. “What shall we name him?”

  “Yes, yes…what is his name?” Nola asked. “Andre Junior?”

  “God forbid…” Andre groaned.

  Tasha shook her head. “Andre doesn’t want his son to feel like he’s forever in his father’s shadow.”

  “Wise…” Nola nodded.

  Tasha was silent for a bit, then said, “I know…I have the perfect name.” She smiled up at Andre and then let her gaze journey over to meet her mother’s questioning face.

  “What, pray tell?” her mother beseeched her.

  Tasha looked back at Andre. “James Maurice de Laurent.”

  “It’s perfect.” Andre touched the baby’s face and then looked back at Tasha. “I suppose I should go out and tell his audience that James Maurice has arrived!”

  Nola stood up. “No, let me.” She looked at Andre, then Tasha. “You three need a few minutes alone together.”

  Andre looked at Nola. “Thank you. I think that’s a fine idea.” He gave her a smile and sat down in the chair at his feet.

  Nola laid a gentle hand on Tasha’s arm. “I’ll be right outside.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Tasha smiled, tears glistening in her eyes. She watched her mother leave, then turned back to Andre. “We have a baby boy!” A cry of happiness broke from her lips.

  “And he’s perfect.” Andre caressed the baby’s cheek. Slowly he lifted his gaze to Tasha. “Just like his mother.” He gave her a deep,
loving kiss.

  “Wow…” She gushed. “That’s some reward for bearing your child.”

  “I was just buttering you up.”

  “Oh…?”

  “Do you have any idea how hard it’s going to be to pry Papa away from his first grandson?”

  Tasha plastered on a stern look that almost hid the smile curving on her lips. “You’re really going to have to think up something good to make that up to me.”

  “Well, James does need a little sister.” Andre winked, and pressed his lips to Tasha’s once more. She slipped her free arm up to Andre’s head and brushed her fingers through his hair as they kissed. The baby stretched and cooed.

  Life was never so good for the second-born son of the de Laurent family.

  THE MARRIAGE FIX

  by

  Sandra Edwards

  The Marriage Fix

  Copyright © 2013 Sandra Edwards

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from Sandra Edwards.

  Published by SE Press

  United States of America

  Electronic Edition: August, 2013

  13-Digit ISBN: 978-1-934342-18-3

  ASIN: B00E6K842G

  Edited by Jennifer Lawrence.

  Cover by Sandra Edwards. Image obtained from Fotolia.com.

  This book is a work of fiction and all characters exist solely in the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any references to places, events or locales are used in a fictitious manner.

  CHAPTER ONE

  HANG TEN WAS LOCATED ON THE COAST between Santa Monica and Malibu, about a mile from Lecie de Laurent’s inherited California home.

  From the front, the restaurant looked like an old warehouse that’d been constructed out of salvaged wood from ships that’d seen better days. The roof was tin, the windows single-paned. It didn’t look like the kind of establishment you’d typically find in southern California. But the parking lot was always full.

  There were two entryways; the one on the left opened up to a bar that showcased hot bands playing hip music. The second door led into an open deck restaurant, and beyond it, a beachside dining patio, overlooking the Pacific.

  Lecie de Laurent and her friend Deidra Ferguson had discovered the place three weeks ago, shortly after arriving in southern California. While the food, music, and ambiance were all splendid, there was another benefit to constant visits to the establishment. Hang Ten’s owner, Nick Matthews, was drop dead gorgeous—and on the verge of getting married. Literally.

  But there was no harm in looking. And Nick was fun to look at. Chestnut brown hair sun-kissed with golden highlights, brown eyes the color of chocolate, a smile that dented his cheeks with dimples, and a trim, athletic body was enough to keep Lecie occupied for hours.

  On this Friday evening in the bar, there seemed to be an unofficial party going on for Nick and his fiancée Ginny, who were getting married tomorrow.

  They sat at the bar, surrounded by their friends. Drinks and high spirits were flowing. Nick looked happy, and Ginny, well, she was just…there, donning a faceless expression. Lecie couldn’t tell if Ginny was happy or excited or just plain bored. Maybe she was just nervous.

  “See how she looks?” a woman in the booth behind Lecie said to her companion. “She looks inconvenienced. That’s not right for a woman who’s marrying a guy like Nick Matthews—tomorrow. Hell, I’d be loving life right about now.”

  There was truth in what the woman was saying. Something about Ginny’s demeanor was off for a bride on the eve of her wedding.

  “I thought she’d be happier,” Lecie said to Deidra sitting across the booth from her.

  “Who?” Deidra’s brow furrowed.

  “Ginny.”

  Deidra glanced over her shoulder and lingered that way for a while before turning back to Lecie. “You going to stop coming here now, after tomorrow?”

  “What’s tomorrow have to do with anything?”

  “Well, he will be married.” Deidra shrugged and grabbed her drink. “It just doesn’t seem right, drooling over a married man.”

  “My brother’s a married man,” Lecie said with a tight jaw. Deidra’s lingering crush on Lecie’s brother Andre was no secret to anyone. And even though Andre had been happily married long enough to have a two-year-old son, that hadn’t stopped Deidra from pining away for him.

  “Point taken.” Deidra laughed a little and sucked her drink up through her straw.

  In the past year, Deidra had lost a little weight, gotten a new hairstyle with some colorful blonde streaks over auburn highlights, and traded in those awful wire-framed glasses she used to wear for contacts. The new look had given Deidra a confidence that she’d always lacked.

  Lecie and Deidra had left Deidra’s grandmother’s house in Florida about a month ago with their sights set on California. Lecie hadn’t told Papa she was leaving Florida to go to California. His daughter alone in America, without a chaperone? As Camille and Tasha would say, Papa would hit the roof.

  Lecie’s American sisters-in-law had taught her plenty of American slang, and she was glad of it. While her accent would identify her as foreign, she didn’t want to stand out as a complete oaf.

  So far, Lecie and Deidra were enjoying their independence, and neither would be ready to leave California anytime soon.

  The display lit up on Lecie’s phone lying on the table. She glanced at it. Papa. By now, surely he knew that she and Deidra were no longer at Deidra’s grandmother’s house in Florida. He’d know where she’d gone and he wouldn’t be happy. Lecie hit the ignore button and pushed the phone aside. She would have to answer to Papa sooner or later, but not tonight.

  “Your father again?” Deidra asked. Lecie nodded. “If you keep ignoring him, we’re going to wake up one morning, very soon, with one, or both, of your brothers knocking on the door.”

  Nick Matthews gazed into his fiancée’s gray eyes. She gave him a smile that he knew was forced. Maybe it was the crowd. Maybe she was tired. Maybe she was just on edge about tomorrow. Ginny had a habit of worrying about anything and everything that could go wrong.

  He stroked her silky dark hair back out of her face and rested his hand on her shoulder. “You want to go?” he asked. She nodded. “Everything okay?” he added, just to make sure.

  She nodded again, and pushed her soft drink away. Ginny wasn’t much of a drinker, and she had little tolerance for those who did. “I should get some rest. Don’t want dark circles under my eyes tomorrow.” She gave him a slight smile, but he knew it wasn’t genuine because it never made its way to her eyes. They remained empty, bored. Or maybe she was just tired. Or simply didn’t like being around all the people drinking.

  “So I guess you’re set on this spending-tonight-apart thing?” Nick chuckled when he said it, even though he wasn’t feeling a whole lot of amusement.

  Ginny nodded. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

  “Come on, Gin.” Nick turned on the charm, which seemed to work on every woman but Ginny these days. Still he tried. “I’ve been staying at the hotel across the street, to please you, all week. I want to come home. To my wife.”

  Nick didn’t get why he couldn’t come to the house this past week. Her excuse—she didn’t want to jinx the wedding—was plausible enough, but since when had they adhered to tradition? They’d been living together for two years. It wasn’t like the wedding night was going to be something new for either of them.

  “I won’t be your wife until tomorrow,” she said in a firm, no-nonsense voice. When she got like that, she was unshakable.

  “Okay.” Nick’s heart thudded dully in his chest. If they weren’t getting married tomorrow, Nick might start to feel like Ginny was avoiding him. “Let me talk to Dean,” he said. “Then I’ll drive you home.”

  Ginny shook her head. “I’ll take my car.” Her glance darted away fr
om him. Before he could utter a single word of the counter-argument coming together in his head, she said, “Otherwise, I’ll have no way to get to the church tomorrow. You can’t see me before I walk down that aisle.” The seriousness in her tone squelched Nick’s desire to laugh. It wouldn’t pay to piss off his fiancée the night before the wedding.

  “Can I at least walk you outside?” he asked, half-offended at her determination to remain apart from him.

  “I’d like that,” she cooed.

  Nick stood, reached for her hand and looked at the bartender. “Pete, if you see Dean, let him know I’ll be right back.”

  “Will do.” Pete didn’t miss a beat as he continued mixing drinks.

  Holding onto Ginny’s hand, Nick led her through the bar toward the exit. “I wonder where Dean went?”

  “Knowing Dean, you might find him in the parking lot with some girl.” She giggled, an odd response from Ginny when the subject of Dean Triplett came up. Dean was Nick’s best friend and the director of the Kevin Matthews Community Center, a local hangout for kids, for which Hang Ten was a key benefactor. Ginny could stomach Dean as Nick’s best friend, but Nick’s affiliation with the community center, not so much.

  About six months ago, Ginny had suggested that Hang Ten break its affiliation with the community center, that there were better things they could be doing with five thousand dollars a month. But Nick had been adamant about his support of the community center that bore his brother’s name. Without Hang Ten, the center would likely close within a few months. Nick couldn’t let that happen.