Bad Billionaires Box Set

by Elise Faber

  “Love you!” Seraphina called.

  Carter ran onto the screen and waved at CeCe. “We love you, too,” Abby called over his chattering.

  “Remember,” Heather said. “Our demons only drag us down if we give them the power to do so.”

  Cecilia’s breath caught, she opened her mouth to—

  Bec beat her to it. “Fuck, that was deep.”

  “Language!” Abby chided.

  Sera just smiled as Heather shook her head, hand reaching forward in her little corner of the screen. “Talk soon.” CeCe’s laptop screen went black.

  “I guess I’m doing this,” she said and headed for the bathroom to shower.

  Scotland, here I come.

  Chapter Thirty

  Colin

  Colin’s phone rang, and a grin broke out on his face. “Sorry, gentlemen,” he told the group of investors sitting at the table with him. “I’ve got to take this, but Francine has the matter well in hand. You can direct any further concerns to her.”

  Hopefully, him saying the actual words would prevent Colin from having to make this type of trip again.

  Tetchy investors not wanting to work with his female CFO.

  Bloody idiots.

  But if this impromptu meeting didn’t work, if they continued to circumvent Francine, then they could take their money elsewhere. McGregor Enterprises wasn’t desperate for investment, and Francine was the best person for the job—male, female, or otherwise.

  “Sweetheart,” he said after he’d swiped a finger across the screen and made sure the conference room door was closed behind him.

  “I-is this a bad time?”

  Colin frowned as he strode into his office. “No.” He wanted to find the words to put her completely at ease but knew there wasn’t one perfect thing he could say. That, unfortunately, rebuilding the trust she had in him would take time. “Cecilia, I’m here for you,” he said. “Whenever you need.”

  Her breath rattled through the speakers. “Well, I’m glad you said that because I . . . uh . . .I—”

  “Sweetheart, what is it?”

  “I kind of flew to Scotland to surprise you,” she blurted. “But I didn’t think about where you would be. I don’t where your office is, and I’m at the airport and—”

  He cut her off. “Cecilia.”

  “Yes?” she asked, her voice small.

  “I’m sending a car to pick you up. Neil was already dropping off someone for a flight to Dubai, so he can get to you sooner than I could. What terminal are you in?”

  She told him, and he put her on speaker to fire off a text.

  “Okay. He’ll be there in ten minutes. Can you go wait on the curb for him?”

  He sensed her nodding, heard the sounds change as she began to move. “I’m here.”

  “Good,” he said then hesitated before asking anyway. “What’s the matter?”

  “I—uh . . . I’m sorry. It was stupid to come here.”

  Colin started packing up his briefcase. “Did I somehow give you the impression that I don’t want you here? I just wish I could have had someone waiting. I don’t like you standing out in the cold.”

  “I should have told you.”

  “Cecilia,” he said again. “I’d already called to have the jet readied for takeoff to Paris in a couple of hours.”

  “Oh,” she said softly.

  Colin decided to lay all his cards on the table. It was the only way they’d be able to keep building something healthy between them. “The truth is, I was missing you desperately. I hate being here when you’re not.” He smiled at his receptionist as he left. “I’m so, so glad you’re here.”

  She released a shuddering breath. “Really?”

  “Really,” he said and too impatient to wait for the elevator, he pounded down the stairs to where his driver waited. “Now, Neil is going to take you to my flat. I’ll be there and waiting by the time you arrive from the airport.”

  “Okay.” Her next words were light. “Naked?”

  He laughed, a full bark that made his driver, Mick, send a shocked glance in his direction. Colin didn’t think he’d ever smiled at the other man, let alone laughed. He wasn’t an asshole, but he hadn’t had much to laugh about over the last few years.

  “Your flat?” Mick asked, opening the back door.

  Colin nodded. “Thanks.” To CeCe he said, “Stay on the line with me until Neil gets there.”

  “Okay,” she said then, “Did you really miss me?”

  “Sweetheart.” He smirked. “Don’t ask stupid questions.”

  “Hey!”

  “Is for horses,” he said, stealing one of her lines.

  “Oh, my God,” she muttered. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

  “A certain redhead might have taught me a few American idioms.”

  She snorted.

  “And, yes, I really did miss you,” he said. “Did you have enough croissants?”

  CeCe huffed out a laugh. “Never! Oh, I think he’s here. Dark hair, green eyes, and glasses. A Mark Wahlberg lookalike?”

  “Not sure who that is,” he replied. “But Neil is supposed to show you his identification.”

  “Hi, ma’am,” Colin heard. “Can I take your bag?”

  “He flashed a fancy badge,” Cecilia whispered, and Colin relaxed.

  “Good. See you in thirty minutes, sweetheart.”

  “Can’t wait,” she murmured before clicking off.

  And Colin knew he had the biggest, dopiest smile ever on his face, but he found he didn’t give a damn.

  Then his phone rang again.

  “Sweetheart,” he began. “It’s only—”

  His mother’s voice was shrill as it screamed through the speakers. “Colin Douglas McGregor, what have you done?”

  Fury filled his every cell.

  After everything, every-bloody-thing, his mother and sister had done, this was her first reaction to his request?

  Fucking hell.

  There would be no more playing nice.

  His lips twisted into a smile that must have been more feral than kind. “Mother,” he said. “So good to hear from you. Cecilia and I will be over for brunch tomorrow.” A pause. “That should give you plenty of time to pack.”

  “You—”

  “Great,” he interrupted. “I’ll see you then.”

  Colin hung up the phone, shoving her from his mind, and asked Mick to stop the car for a moment. He cleaned out a bakery of their croissants—not French, but they did look damned good—and then picked up a bouquet of yellow daffodils.

  See? He’d listened and learned.

  Now was his chance to prove that to the woman he loved.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Cecilia

  She smiled and stroked a finger down one of the yellow petals of the daffodils Colin had surprised her with. “Thank you for the flowers.”

  He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. “I didn’t think you’d even noticed them, given the way you launched yourself at me when I opened the door.”

  “You grabbed me.”

  A chuckle against her spine then a sharp nip at her cheek . . . the lower one.

  “Colin!”

  “Mmm.” His tongue darted out to soothe the sting. “I really liked your surprise.”

  She played innocent. “Me flying in?”

  “Not that one.”

  “The bottle of wine?”

  He kissed over the rounded curve of her butt, drifting slowly down and inward. “Nope.”

  “The cheese—” He licked, and she broke off on a gasp.

  “Uh-uh.” Another lick. Calloused fingers spreading her legs a little wider.

  “My lingerie?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” He pressed an open-mouth kiss to her clit and she jumped, then sighed as his fingers joined the party, showing just how much he’d enjoyed the sheer lacy garter belt and bra set.

  It had been another gift from the girls, and it matched her eyes perfectly. It also enhanced certain
other parts of her anatomy.

  She’d sent them a mental thank you when Colin’s eyes had nearly popped out of his head.

  Colin licked her again and any thoughts of lingerie faded from her mind. No, all thoughts faded. Her brain was hazed with the desire for more. For faster. For again, right there.

  “Oh God, please do that again,” she moaned when his tongue executed some twisting movement that nearly toppled her over the edge.

  And he did, but thank everything that was holy, he did it again. And again. And then once more. Until she was hurtled into space and pleasure coursed through every cell of her body.

  “You’re really fucking good at that,” she said, once she’d managed to regain one half of a wit.

  He grinned, like a cat that had gotten into the cream.

  And he had gotten the cream, she thought with an inner cackle that would have made Bec proud.

  “Give me five minutes,” she said, “and I’ll be smiling that way at you.”

  Colin crawled up the bed, hauling her into his arms. “I didn’t do it because I wanted something in return.”

  “I know.” She sighed and cuddled closer, still limp and satiated but knowing that she needed to broach this subject sooner rather than later. Cecilia really wanted the black cloud that was hanging over them gone forever. “But I like doing it and”—she prepped herself for the rapid left turn in conversation she was about to throw at him—“Colin, I think we need to go see your family.”

  He shuddered. “Those two topics should never be spoken about in the same sentence.”

  “I—” She shook her head, smacked him across the chest. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

  A brush of his fingers across her cheek. “I know. And funny that you should bring it up, but I told my mother we were coming for brunch tomorrow.”

  “What?!”

  “Right after I sent her an official letter from my solicitor demanding that she and Lana vacate the estate within thirty days.”

  “But—”

  “They’re not going to be destitute. I’ve bought them a house.” A shrug. “It’s on the other side of the country, but it’s opulent, and they’ll still receive their portions of the company’s profits.” He stopped and stared down at her. “I can’t look at them. I can’t pretend to love them after all they’ve done to you. It wasn’t right.”

  “They’re your family though.”

  “Real family doesn’t act that way.”

  Cecilia thought about her own parents, about all they’d done—and hadn’t done—and knew he was right. Jordan and Hunter, Abby, Heather, and the girls were more family than her own blood.

  “You’re right.”

  “Of course, I am.” He smirked but cupped her cheek with gentle fingers. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

  “Oh no. I definitely want to clear the air. Now, about that cocky smile you were sending my way a few minutes ago,” she said, her hand snaking down his stomach.

  Colin’s groan was enough to rid her of any doubt.

  This was right.

  They were going to make it.

  Colin opened her car door then laced his fingers through hers as they walked up the drive. The McGregor Estate, informally called Rock Hill, loomed large and gloomily overhead.

  She used to love those spires and the way the windows curved at their top corners.

  Today it looked as bleak as she felt inside.

  The last time she’d seen this place—

  So. Not. Going. There.

  Colin released her hand but snaked an arm around her waist, tugging her flush against his side. “I’m here.”

  CeCe melted. This man . . . he was it.

  The front door opened before they could knock, and CeCe was surprised to see Joanne.

  “Oh, look at you!” she said, running toward them to grab Cecilia’s shoulders. “You’re as pretty as ever.” Then she hugged her tight, whispering in her ear, “Did my Col make things right between you?”

  “Yes.” Her lips twitched. “Now I know how he heard about the daffodils.”

  Joanne winked before releasing her to hug Colin.

  “Your mother and sister are in the study and . . . Olivia is there, too.”

  Cecilia’s heart clenched, she’d only met Olivia a handful of times and most of those had been only been in passing because Lana, Colin’s sister, and Olivia were friends. Olivia Stewart was beautiful and had seemed sweet, at least until Ewan had implicated her in her and Colin’s breakup.

  Colin just nodded grimly at Joanne’s words, pulled CeCe close again, and led them inside. “Can you send a tray into the study?” he asked. “We haven’t eaten yet.”

  They’d been too busy christening his shower.

  And then his kitchen counter.

  And the front door.

  Those memories shored up her spine. She could totally do this.

  But that was before they actually walked into the study, because the trifecta of beautiful and cold women standing before her was beyond intimidating.

  No one spoke as Colin settled her in a chair and then sat on the arm of it.

  He placed a hand on her shoulder when she opened her mouth to break the awkward silence. Wait, he seemed to be telling her.

  She gave him a small nod.

  Bridget was the one to cave. “How could you do this to us?” she wailed. “This stupid American bitch has you on tenterhooks again, and you’ll just throw over your family for her?”

  Olivia winced, but Lana inclined her head, encouraging her mother along.

  “First. Don’t ever talk about Cecelia like that again.” Colin’s tone was frigid, and she shivered from the force of it. “Second, is that really all you have to say for yourself?”

  “All I have to say?” Bridget pointed a bony finger at CeCe. “She—”

  “Actually,” Olivia interrupted, looking extremely frightened but determined all the same. “I do have something to say.” She stood and crossed over to where Cecilia sat. “I’m so sorry. I was”—her eyes were glassy—“well, it doesn’t matter what I was. It was horrible and wrong, and you need to know that I forged—”

  “Shut up!” Lana snapped. “You’re supposed to be helping, not—”

  Colin leveled a glare at his sister that had her paling and clamping her mouth shut. “Go on,” he said, his tone so soft it was almost deadly.

  Olivia took a deep breath, releasing it before the words poured out. “I took Cecilia’s journal and helped Lana set up an account to make it look like she was stealing. Then I sent Ewan to the church, following him with my camera so I could take pictures making it look like she’d run off with him.” She bit her lip. “This is all my fault.”

  “Why?” CeCe asked. “Why would you do that?”

  Olivia’s eyes dropped to the carpet. “I wanted to marry him.”

  “Oh,” CeCe said dumbly. It was an obvious reason, she supposed, just not one that she’d ever considered. Her eyes lifted first to Bridget then to Lana. “You wanted that too.”

  Not a question.

  Lana still answered it as though it were one. “Obviously.”

  “I—” CeCe shook her head. “Wow.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Olivia said. “I know it was wrong and—” She reached a hand out, as though to touch Colin’s arm, but the look he gave her had that palm freezing midair and returning to her side. “I was a jealous coward,” she told them. “No. Worse because I didn’t confess my part in it until now.” A tear slipped from the corner of her eye. “I robbed you of y-years. I’m so sorry.”

  What could CeCe say? It’s okay? But it wasn’t.

  Instead, she settled on, “Thank you for telling us.”

  Olivia dropped to her knees in front of them. “Colin. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”

  His gaze flicked in her direction then away, fury in the clenched line of his jaw. “No.”

  Olivia wilted and CeCe found she didn’t have it in her to make the other woman
feel worse. Not when she was already so torn up. “We’ve all made a lot of mistakes.” She patted Olivia’s hand. “Should we try to move forward now?”

  A tearful nod. “I’d like that.”

  “Good.”

  Colin shot a dismissive glance in Olivia’s direction. “Anything else?”

  She shook her head.

  “Good. Leave.”

  Bridget and Lana gasped. “You can’t talk to her like that,” Lana said, but Olivia just sent them one more apologetic look before leaving the room.

  “What have you got to say for yourselves?” he lobbed the question to the room.

  “You can’t honestly believe her,” Bridget attempted. “They must be working together—”

  Colin stood, hands fisted at his sides. “Shut. Up.”

  “You know what I don’t get,” Cecilia said, touching Colin’s back in an effort to calm him. Then pushed past her discomfort to ask the next question. She needed to know the answer. “Why go through the effort? Why befriend me? Why make me feel like part of the family?”

  Lana rolled her eyes, but Bridget’s were as cold as those nights in Finland. “You took him from me,” she hissed. “You were never supposed to come back.”

  Cecilia snagged Colin’s hand when he would have strode over to them.

  “I guess fate had different plans because I never did expect to be back here again.” She tangled her fingers with his. “But I’m so glad I am, because everything you did to tear us apart has actually made us stronger in the end.”

  “You can’t have him!” Bridget shrieked. “He’s mine. The money is mine—” She broke off, panic on her face for one brief second before her tone took such a dramatic turn—bitchy to sweet—that CeCe could see how easily they’d been manipulated. She’d seen the sharp side of Bridget many times during their engagement, but it had been so quickly covered up by softness, by supposed caring, that it had been far simpler for her brain to chalk it up to her misunderstanding, rather than because Colin’s mom was a complete and utter asshole.

  “Colin, dear, I love you,” Bridget began, so sickly sugary now that CeCe understood the truth beneath those words that it made her teeth ache. “I need you, especially with your father gone. I’m so lonely—”