I reach pinnacle spoiling girlfriend in the Dior boutique.
“Try this.” I hold out a cologne tester. “It’s got musk in it. That means it has your name all over it.”
I wait for him to make a crack about me jumping his bones if he wore it. Ian definitely prefers heavy scents, and this one is a bit on the citrus side. Even so, I immediately thought of him when I sniffed it. This beats the sandalwood cologne I got him weeks ago!
My shopping bags touch the floor before Ian takes the tester from me. One dab to his wrist later, I’m in love. Again. I mean I fell in love with him again. He takes a sniff, of course, but I can’t judge from his face if he likes it or not.
“What do you think?”
“If you like it, I’ll wear it.”
“Come on, now. What’s your opinion?”
“I certainly don’t hate it. That said, I’ll wear it for you.” His soft smile makes me melt inside. Maybe I like this underappreciated side of Ian after all. “I’ll think of you whenever I wear it. Thinking of you is never a bad thing. I could wear it when we’re apart, too. That way I will always think of the greatest woman I know.”
I buy it for him.
We sit in the nearby park, watching tourists and couples alike mill about, lost in their own worlds. My arm rests behind my boyfriend. For the first time in a long time, I sense a contentment that I haven’t felt since…
My heart skips a beat.
Martin.
The sun blinds me, but I can’t bring myself to pull my sunglasses down. Lumps form in my throat. I remember the last time I spoiled a man like I spoiled Ian today.
Martin. I took him shopping in New York. Bought him cologne and half a new wardrobe. “Thank you, ma’am. This is wonderful, ma’am.” Always so appreciative. When we broke up, he gave away most of those items, which isn’t an uncommon thing in our world. Female subs do it all the time when they break up with their Doms.
The tips of my fingernails play with the back of Ian’s head. He needs a haircut, but I don’t mind seeing him shaggier than usual.
“Are you enjoying yourself today?” The waters I test right now almost feel unreal. Am I really wading into them? Is this really happening?
His usual playful demeanor still lurks behind those hazel eyes. I will forever thank his parents for giving him such beautiful eyes. As I become lost in them, Ian says, “I always enjoy myself whenever I’m with you. The happier you are, the more content I become.”
This is so unlike him, and yet I can’t help but be drawn into how he fills an old role I so desperately need filled.
“I’m happy right now. Happy in ways I didn’t think possible.” My nail touches the softness of his cheek. “You knew that, didn’t you?”
Plots brew in that calculating visage of his. Were the tides turned, I’d be anticipating some kinky-ass shit coming from his direction. Like taking me back behind a Parisian historical building and screwing my brains out while I call him Master. Chills take me over.
“My plan to do nothing but please you has come to fruition.” Ian leans closer, his voice a hushed whisper. “A man will do anything to please his goddess.”
His touch to my thigh snaps something inside of me. The box has been opened. The dust flying out. Pandora wouldn’t know what to do with herself.
I touch Ian’s thigh in return. A purr travels from me to him.
“Good boy.”
To my surprise, we kiss, my lips pushing against his.
Chapter 13
IAN
I picked the weirdest day to meet my future mother-in-law. There is no getting out of it, though. When Valerie got back to me saying Marilyn agreed to meet today and only today, I had to do it, regardless of what I had planned with my girlfriend.
Trust me, I’ve got a lot planned with Katie tonight, whether she knows it or not. Although I’ve got a sinking feeling that she has figured a lot of it out. After we left the park, everything changed. She changed. The way she touched me, talked to me, looked at me… I’m still adjusting to the woman I want to call my wife.
Now I’m going to meet her mother… without Kathryn’s knowledge.
Like she lied to me, I lied and said that I was also meeting a friend tonight. The restaurant is different from the one Kathryn saw her mother in, at least. A part of me wishes I had come clean and told her what I was doing. Maybe Kathryn would have come along. Then again, the things I need to talk to Marilyn about aren’t exactly the type of things you would say in front of your girlfriend.
Nothing is helped by my current mood. Letting Kathryn take the lead today and play a more submissive role in our public relationship has affected me in ways I could not have anticipated. Namely, I don’t think I will be able to snap out of this for Marilyn. The Ian she is going to meet is quite… demure.
Not a word I’ve ever used to describe a man before, let alone myself.
I won’t compromise my inner strength, of course, but the Ian Marilyn meets will not be as brazen with his dominance as the Ian most people know. It’s probably for the best. Based on what I know about Marilyn Alison, Alpha Ian is about the worst thing she could see for her daughter’s future.
I arrive first. She arrives fashionably twenty minutes late. The maître ‘d brings her to my table in a private corner of the main gallery, partitioned off from the rest of the quiet diners clinking their utensils against china plates and commenting on the live piano music. It’s a healthy mix of French and English in here. Some German, too. Marilyn should feel right at home.
She graces my presence looking nothing like the photos in Kathryn’s apartment or her father’s house. The Marilyn I see every time I go to those places is not only younger, but has longer strawberry blond hair and a style befitting the thirty and forty-something wife of a billionaire. The Marilyn I see coming in, however, looks a good twenty years older. She’s recently dyed her hair auburn brown. Her clothes cover every inch of her body, letting me only see her aging hands and the crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes. It’s hard to believe this woman is about the same age as my mother. She looks like a healthy seventy-year-old instead of a normal woman in her early fifties.
Dark sapphire blue glitters before me. Marilyn removes her wide-brimmed hat and peacock feather stole. Her wrinkled hands are covered in gold and bronze rings, few gems. The only way I can tell she’s biologically related to Kathryn is her jawline.
“You don’t look as intimidating in real life as you do in your pictures.” That’s it. That’s the first thing she ever says to me.
I stand up and extend my hand over the table. She waves it away. So much for cordiality.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” I say anyway. We both sit down, opposite from one another. Neither of us look at our menus. We might not be staying long enough for dinner at this rate. Good thing I ordered wine anyway. I’m gonna need it. “Kathryn talks a lot about you. Seemed only right I formally meet you at some point.”
Marilyn judges me with a heavy countenance. She’s wearing a ton of clothing, and yet she looks like she weighs about a hundred pounds. I don’t know much about her health problems. From what I understand, most of them are mental. As if she’s picking up on my thoughts, Marilyn candidly says, “I’m sure she’s told you plenty. Sometimes a young woman doesn’t know when to keep things in the family.”
To be fair, everyone back home knows about Marilyn Alison’s infamous nervous breakdown that led to her separating from her husband and moving to Europe, rarely to be heard from again. My own mother wouldn’t stop gossiping about it when it happened. Gossip that went beyond “We used to be good acquaintances at the country club and joked about you and Kathryn getting married one day!” Which I doubt.
“I like to think of myself as family by this point.” My voice is jovial, but inside I’m shaking like no future son-in-law has the right to. You would think I was having dinner with Spencer Alison – something I’ve done more than a few times, ranging from mediocre to rousing success – and
expecting him to slice my dick off for coming within five feet of his virginal daughter. (The thought of Kathryn ever being described as virginal is pretty hilarious. By her own account she was her most promiscuous in high school, when I first met her. I don’t think I’ve ever known the Kathryn Alison that was a virgin.)
“Yes, Spencer has told me about you.” Marilyn sighs. “Kathryn too, of course. Seems you’re a popular man, Mr. Mathers.”
I’m not sure if I should be flattered or frightened.
Marilyn orders nothing more than an appetizer, so I do the same. No sense in filling up on food if there’s a chance I’ll eat with Kathryn later. You know, the ridiculously confident woman I left half an hour ago. The last thing she whispered in my ear was, “I look forward to your return.”
Do you think Marilyn has any idea what kind of woman her daughter really is?
There isn’t much for us to talk about. Marilyn isn’t forthcoming, and I’m at a loss for how to break the ice. So after the waiter leaves, I say, “I wanted to meet you because Kathryn is very important to me. We’ve been together for over a year now.”
Her eyes narrow. Does she know what direction this is going in?
“Anyway…” Not even business contacts who permanently have sticks up their asses make me this uncomfortable. “It’s good to finally meet you. I had hoped to meet you before now, but I suppose it wasn’t in the universe’s master plan.”
“No, I suppose not. I don’t go back to America very often.”
Kathryn doesn’t come to see her hardly at all. Every time I bring it up, my girlfriend says she would rather pick up cat vomit.
“I know you met with her the other night. She came back to our room fairly upset.”
I’m playing with fire here, and I know it. Why not blow some hot air all over it?
Sure enough, Marilyn leans back in her seat and clears her throat. “She told me some rather upsetting things. Like how you and her eloped in Vegas.”
Well, then! Was Kathryn ever going to share that detail with me? Even my father knows about that now. The only one who doesn’t is Spencer, my would be father-in-law, and I intend to keep it that way. That would get him to hack off my dick. “I hope she also told you that we had it annulled. No harm done to either of our images. Or incomes.” I know that’s what she cares the most about. Marilyn didn’t spend the first part of her married life ensuring her daughter’s fortunes for nothing.
“She did. Still can’t say I was pleased with that, Mr. Mathers.”
“To be sure. There’s a reason your husband doesn’t know. We hope to keep it that way.”
“Your secret is safe. The last thing I want to talk about is our daughter’s nuptials.”
“Speaking of…” Boy, it’s getting hot in here. “Kathryn and I are discussing possibly getting married sometime in the future.” Far into the future, I’m sure. We’re still having petty squabbles over who should move in permanently with whom, or if we should buy our own place together. She doesn’t like the idea of having to sell her place, and I’m not crazy about moving into her abode. I don’t mind staying there half the week, but full time? Too much. She’s got lace curtains everywhere. My cat would eat them.
“She mentioned that too. Not sure why you’re talking to me about it. Kathryn is well aware of my position on the matter.”
“Which is?”
Marilyn glares at me over the rim of her wineglass. “If there is one thing I’ve wanted Kathryn to learn from me, it is this: never get married. Have all the fun she wants, but marriage is like selling your soul to the devil himself.”
Holy shit. Where does one begin unpacking that bullshit? Did Spencer do something to her that neither Kathryn nor I know about? No wonder my girlfriend has some fucking issues!
“I thought she was on the right track. My daughter and I aren’t close, this is true, but she is a smart and capable young woman. Don’t you think so, Mr. Mathers?”
“Absolutely. It’s part of the reason I love…”
“Then why would you want to tear that down?”
I am at a total loss for words. What the fuck, Marilyn Alison.
“I can tell from the look on your face that you’re shocked I would say such a thing. Do I doubt your intentions for my daughter? Not really. I don’t know enough about you to make that call. I do know, however, that one of the worst things a woman can do for herself is get married. No good has ever come from beholding one’s self to a man.”
Alpha Asshole Ian would like to make a joke about gay marriage being legal, so Marilyn is totally in luck, but I shall refrain. “Kathryn would never be beholden to me. The extent to which I wish to take care of her is purely emotional and, yes, physical. Not financially. I know she’s fine in that department.”
“Perhaps too fine?”
“I can assure you that I am a man of my own fortune. Should we get married, she would be the first to insist on a very harsh prenup.”
“Then I have taught her well.” Why is she smiling? Oh my God, I am in deep shit and I don’t know how to swim out of it! “Perhaps there is hope for Kathryn after all. I know she is a lovesick kitten. It happens to the best of women. But I also know you men. You may think you love her now, but it’s only a matter of time before you cast her aside. You should know quite well, Mr. Mathers. Your parents are your first examples.”
That was a low fucking blow and she knows it. My mother did cite that my father’s affairs were a reason for them getting divorced, but it’s not like she was innocent either. More like it was a convenient legal excuse to get the ball rolling toward alimony payments. As dysfunctional as they are, though, it’s evident that they still love each other. They must, if they keep having an on-again off-again romantic relationship. Was it only last month I walked in on them in my father’s office? Some things will never be wiped from this poor boy’s brain.
“Kathryn and I have a very happy and healthy relationship. My respect for her is unmatched by any other man’s.” My hands are curling beneath the table. “I assure you, Mrs. Alison, I will spend the rest of my life doing everything I can to ensure her happiness.”
Marilyn leans across the table, her transparent cheeks pinking the closer she gets to me. “Then don’t marry her. You want her to be happy with you? Never put that pressure on her. I’m sure you think you’re quite the catch, Mr. Mathers. Most men assume they are. How else would your egos continue to persist? Unfortunately, reality is a harsh mistress. I know about your history as a womanizer. I also know about the other things.” Her voice turns into a bitter sneer. “I could see it in my daughter’s eyes when I saw her. She’s changing because of you. For the better? Probably not. She was more nervous and more unsure of herself than I had ever seen. This is what happens when a woman begins to serve a man. It will end with her completely losing who she is and…”
I’ve had enough.
“What do you know about her?” I ask. “You left her. You left her. You know why she’s such a wreck around you? Because she blames herself for your leaving.” Kathryn has never said this outright, but I doubt my gut is wrong. “You know what else? She’s afraid of turning into you. We’ve spent the past year unboxing her issues. Most of them regard you. I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, and I don’t care. I’m not going to tell you I’m a changed man. The only thing that’s changed is that I’m devoted to no one but her. That doesn’t scare me. Monogamy has never frightened me. Until I met Kathryn, though, I hadn’t met a woman who deserved such an honor in my life. Now I have. She’s the only woman I want for the rest of my life. If you can’t see that much worth in our relationship, then I don’t know what to tell you. All I know is that I want to be there for her until the world deems it’s time for me to go.”
Marilyn studies me, demeanor unchanged. “I’m sure you believe that, Mr. Mathers.”
“I’m sure you know a lot about my lifestyle. I won’t deny any of it. I won’t tell you that Kathryn and I don’t have that kind of relationship. We do. You kno
w what else?”
“No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.”
I can’t with this woman. Absolutely cannot. She’s so twisted in her own head she only sees warning signs everywhere she goes. I’m sure I’m the biggest warning sign of all, flashing right in her face.
“Your daughter isn’t any different from me. How do you think we got together? Our deviancy goes both ways, Mrs. Alison.”
I say it with so much conviction that I feel like I’m at church!
There’s no way to tell if she believes me or not. At this point? I don’t give a shit. She could think I’m a woman-eater out to destroy her daughter’s life. She could think I’m telling the truth. I’m done. Now I have a taste of what Kathryn deals with all the time. Shit, if this woman was my mother, I’d have a mess of issues too!
Our appetizers arrive. With her eyes still locked on mine, Marilyn stabs her food with a fork and rips it open with her teeth.
Ah, I firmly see how they’re related now. Kathryn makes that same face when she’s about to tear me a new asshole. Only difference is that I like it when she does it!
***
“How did it go?” Kathryn asks from the couch in the middle of our hotel room. I shut the door behind me and instantly rid myself of my coat and wallet. When I was marching up here, all I could think of was the burning anger inside of me. Not only did Marilyn Alison say a bunch of baseless shit about me, but she kept insisting that Kathryn would never be happy married. As the man who wants to marry the woman now lounging in front of me…
Good sparkling heavens, she is an ethereal woman.
Somehow, gazing upon her, fresh from the bath and dressed in a clingy black T-shirt and jeans has calmed me. Kathryn still has the same aura that I left her with an hour ago. Actually, it’s stronger now. She’s had more time to stew in her moment. After a full day of doing nothing but waiting on her and letting her take the lead… she knows what she’s about now.
Billionaires in Paris: An Alpha Billionaire Romance Page 10