The Billionaire's Secret: Enemies to Lovers Fake Marriage Romance (Big Bad Billionaires Book 2)

by L. Steele

  I draw in a breath. All that bubbliness is overwhelming.

  "I said too much again, didn’t I?" She grimaces, her gaze turning stricken. "Please forgive me, please."

  I jerk my chin. "Don’t worry about it."

  She locks her arm with mine, then begins to walk. I keep pace. "It’s just us girls tonight. Sinclair’s allowing Summer the evening off."

  "Allowing her the evening off?"

  "He’s sooo possessive about her. Honestly, that man is 100% alpha… And of course, there’s the rest of the Seven. Put them all in one room, and whoa." She makes a smacking sound with her lips, "I swear my ovaries can’t take it."

  "There’s seven of them?"

  She nods, "I haven’t seen the seventh, of course."

  "Oh? Why's that?" Perhaps she has her uses, after all? Maybe she can shed a little more light on the man I have to find a way to get close to?

  "Baron, that's the guy who's not around. He's a kind of mystery figure," she adds obligingly.

  "What does he do?"

  She raises her shoulders. "Don’t know… Anyway, the ones who are here are more than enough to keep a girl occupied, if you know what I mean."

  Ah! "So you have your eye on one of them?"

  "Maybe…" she giggles.

  The sound is so infectious, I can’t stop my lips from curving. Maybe she isn't bad company, after all.

  We reach the entrance to the tube station and I hesitate.

  She turns to me, "It’s only a few stops on the train to get to Summer’s place."

  "Her house?" I swallow, uh, "I really don’t think that’s a good idea."

  She grips my arm, "Nonsense, you’re soaked."

  "I’ll dry."

  "Surely, you don't want to be alone?"

  I bite my lips.

  "It’s a good old-fashioned stay over, which we haven’t done in a while, and that’s important, you know? Female friendships are ah-may-z-i-n-g!" she sing-songs.

  Not always, but…okay.

  "We women, we need to have each other’s backs…" She rocks forward on the balls of her feet, "...especially when you need a shoulder to lean on, ya know?

  I narrow my gaze.

  "Not that you need anyone else…" She jostles the strap of her hand bag, "...but we’d love to have you. With Summer married…we need more single gals in our group to exchange notes about eligible men…"

  I wince.

  "Ouch." She hunches her shoulders, "Didn’t want to remind you of your newly-single status."

  I lower my chin.

  "Jeez, didn’t mean to imply that you had to start looking right away or anything, not so soon after your husband's death… I mean—" she makes a choking noise.

  I draw myself up, pat her shoulder. "It’s okay. Summer’s father and I were married, but we weren't ever intimate."

  Her lips open in an 'O.'

  Shit, hadn’t meant to reveal that to her. What the hell is wrong with me? "That’s our secret, huh?"

  She grins, "You betcha. See, we’re already getting along so well." She steps into the tube station. "You must come with me. Summer would never forgive me if I didn't bring you along."

  I wrap my arms about my waist.

  She turns, "Come on, you'll enjoy it. I promise."

  I shuffle me feet.

  "Jeez, I’m sorry." She glances past me, then breaks into a run. "Taxi," she calls out.

  A black cab pulls up to the curb.

  She wrenches open the door, tumbles in, then beckons, "Coming?"

  * * *

  Half an hour later we draw up in front of a gorgeous townhouse in Primrose Hill. I lean forward to pay off the driver. Amelie waves me off. She hands over a few notes, then opens the door and jumps out. I follow her across the sidewalk. She opens the gate, then bounds up the path to the front door.

  The taxi drives off. I glance up and down the road. The trees are bathed in the fading sun, raindrops glittering on the leaves. The hair on the nape of my neck prickles. Is someone watching me? I stare through the fading light…but nothing stirs.

  Voices reach me and I turn to find Amelie and Summer talking in front of the open door to the house. I hesitate. Do I want to be here? I should turn and go, but where? To the short let in Hackney, which is all I am able afford? No, I am better off walking in, facing the women. Learning more about the Seven. Okay, about one of them, in particular. I was handed one last opportunity to find my way out of this mess and I am going to take it. I square my shoulders, then walk down the path.

  When I reach the short flight of steps leading to the door, I look up. Summer smiles at me, holds out a hand. The breath rushes out of me. I take the steps, pause when I reach her. She closes the distance between us, hugs me. "Welcome home."

  Tears knock at the backs of my eyes. Jesus, why am I getting this emotional? Summer steps back, then tugs on my arm, "You’re soaked, let me get you some fresh clothes."

  Half an hour later, after having showered and pulled on the clothes that Summer had left for me in the guest bedroom, I walk into the cozy room overlooking the back garden.

  Summer had offered to wash and dry my clothes in the washing machine and I had agreed.

  Amelie looks up, then jumps to her feet. She walks forward and takes my hand, "Come on, we’re having Margaritas and ice cream."

  Thunder cracks outside, then lightning illuminates the space in front of the room. I jump, my heartbeat ratcheting up.

  Amelie’s hand on mine tightens. "I don’t like storms either," she whispers. In that moment, I want to hug her close. She tugs me forward and I follow her, sinking down on the large circular settee that faces the large window at the back of the room.

  Summer walks over, a pitcher of margaritas in her hand.

  "Umm. I’m not sure if I should," I mumble.

  "You absolutely should." Summer laughs.

  I hesitate.

  "If you don’t, our hostess will be most unhappy and you don’t want that do you?" Amelia leans forward, holds out an empty glass.

  Summer tops it off. Amelie hands it over and I wrap my fingers around it. "Could I get a bigger glass? I’ll finish this in no time."

  Amelie stares at the soup bowl-sized circumference, then cackles.

  Summer laughs.

  The fourth girl chuckles. She comes forward holding, her own glass. "I’m Isla, by the way." She raises her glass. "What are we drinking to?"

  The three look at each other, then Summer turns to me, "To having family close."

  I swallow.

  "To friendship," Amelie clinks hers with Summer’s.

  "To… Orgasms?" Isla flutters her eyelashes.

  I allow my lips to twitch. "To being fucked until I can’t walk straight for days," I offer.

  There’s silence, then the girls burst out laughing. Summer sputters, "I’ll drink to that."

  "As if you need to?" Isla winks at Summer, "If the sparks between Sinclair and you are any indication, that’s a normal state for you."

  Summer makes the sign to zip her lips, "Not saying anything.”

  "You never share any details," Amelie pouts.

  "Not one to kiss and tell." Summer raises her glass, "To guys who love us."

  "To the losers who didn’t deserve to keep us," Amelie tosses her head.

  "The sexy bastards who are gonna be so lucky to meet us," Isla clinks her glass.

  "To…" I chew on my lower lip, "TGIF."

  The three stare at me.

  "Thank God it’s Friday?" Amelie furrows her eyebrows.

  I glance at each of their faces, "Tongue Goes in First."

  Amelie hoots, "I love your step-mama, Summer."

  I wince, glance at Summer, who shakes her head. Her phone pings. She picks it up, checks the screen and smiles. "Sienna says she's bummed not to be here, but the pregnancy is exhausting her. She's going to stay in."

  "Sienna?" I ask.

  "Jace's wife." Summer sets the phone down. "He's a friend of the Seven. They moved here from LA because S
ienna's pregnant and they want to bring up the child in Jace's home country."

  "That sounds wonderful. It's beautiful that they can plan for the future, a life together." A ball of emotion clogs my throat.

  Where has this...hankering for becoming part of an unit come from? To have someone to call my own. A family, kids. I had hoped that I'd have it all one day, until Nina's kidnapping had turned my world upside down. It could have easily been me. Hell, sometimes I wish it had been me. I'd have gladly traded places with her.

  She and I? We’re... Solid.

  Until I met her, I was always a background friend. I never fit in with any particular circle of friends. All through high school, I'd find these cliques. They'd be close with each other and I'd sort of latch on, but I was never permanent with them.

  They wouldn’t have even noticed if I wasn't with them.

  All of that changed when I met Nina. With her, I didn't feel left out. It was like I had found someone who got me. Someone who recognized a kindred soul, know what I mean? She had my back.

  We promised to look out for each other, to be the sister we each had always wanted and never had. And then she was gone. My throat closes. No way, could I abandon her when she needs me. I'd do everything, and more, to help her.

  I take a sip of my drink. The cold liquid slides down my throat. It hits my stomach and warmth instantly tingles up my spine. "Yum." I glance down at the cocktail. "This is good."

  "Isn’t it?" Summer licks her lips. She glances around, then sinks down into an overstuffed cushion. "I am surprised Saint allowed you leave the office on your own."

  "Oh?" I sink back into the settee while the other two sprawl out next to me. "I didn’t think he wanted me there a second longer."

  "I don't know." Summer levels me with a stare. "He sure seemed keen to take care of you."

  My cheeks heat. "It isn't what it seems." I cringe. Ugh, is that the oldest excuse in the book, or what?

  Summer frowns, "Perhaps he doesn’t quite know how to share what he feels for you?"

  I choke on my drink. "What he feels for me?" I set my glass down with such force that some of the drink spills. I glance around. Summer hands me a box of tissues and I pull one out, mop up the drink from the table. "He left me in his room, for a so-called important appointment." I wad the tissue into a ball, "And when I find him, it's with his—" I clamp my lips shut. Damn, I want to confide in them, but can I trust them? Will I be able to trust anyone after the events of the last few months?

  "Ooh." Amelie rubs her hands together. "Did you catch him with his pants down?"

  Heat flushes my cheeks. I toss the balled-up tissue onto the table, "The details don’t matter."

  Summer looks thoughtful, but doesn’t speak.

  Amelie pouts. "Aww, and I thought you were going to be fun."

  "Trust me, I am the most boring person you’ll meet."

  Amelie, looks me up and down. "It’s the quiet ones who have a sting in the tail."

  "Sure," I hold up my forefingers on either side of my forehead, "and these are my horns."

  She giggles.

  Summer tilts her head, "At any rate, he got the color back in your cheeks."

  And how.

  She pulls up her knees, rests her chin on them, "Did he at least kiss you?"

  "Of course, not." I scowl.

  "Did he make a move on you?"

  I shuffle my feet.

  "Are you attracted to him?" Amelie chimes in.

  "Do you like him?" Isla asks in a breathless tone. "You do, don't you?"

  "Hold on." I hold up my hands, scan their expectant faces. "Yes," I exhale.

  "Yes, what?" Amelie bounces on the cushions.

  Whoa, is she excitable or what? I let the silence draw out, then reply, "Yes to all of that."

  "I knew it." She holds up a hand, and Isla high-five’s her.

  "Hold on." I frown. "Did you two have a bet going?"

  Amelie peers at me from the other side of the settee, "You don’t mind, do you?"

  I raise my shoulders. "Not as long as you’ll help me with what I have in mind."

  "Ooh!" Amelie takes a hefty sip, then balances the glass on the arm of the sofa. "Give."

  "It’s all straightforward."

  Not.

  "Clearly there's chemistry between Saint and me, and I want to stay in London." I say, sticking to the barebones version of the convoluted reality of my life. " I don't want to return to the US."

  Summer’s shoulders stiffen. "So you want to get together with Saint?"

  "I saw him first at your wedding." I nod toward Summer. "There was an instant connection between us. Of course, I was married to your father then—"

  "But you had no feelings for him," she says.

  I glance toward her. "It’s not like that. I cared about him, but...Was it that obvious?" Clearly, I’m not as good an actress as I like to think, if both Saint and Summer had seen through my charade.

  She scowls, "Only because I'd been trying to figure out why the hell a beautiful woman like you would want to be with him." Her features harden. "He was all wrong for you. Besides," she looks me up and down, "you'd be good for Saint."

  "I... I would?" I blink.

  She nods. "He needs someone who won't put up with all that alpha bullshit."

  "Like you and Sinclair?"

  She smiles and her eyes gleam. "I'll tell you a secret."

  "Oh?"

  She leans forward, as do the other women.

  "These men," she tilts her head, "the trick to managing them is to let them show you their worst side; let them rage and rant. And then, when they think they have you cornered, you pull the rug out from under their feet."

  I frown. O-k-a-y.

  "You get what I'm saying?" She peers into my face.

  No. Yes. "I...think so."

  "Good." She grins. "I think you'll be fine."

  "So, you don't mind that I'm hoping to get together with someone else, so soon after your father's death?"

  She slashes the air with her hand. "It’s unusual, but I wasn’t close to Adam. He didn’t deserve to die that early, and while I forgive him for abandoning me and Karma to the foster system in the UK… Well, I do believe that he had our best interests at heart and…" her lips firm, "that’s what counts."

  Right.

  I peruse her features, then reach over and grasp her hand, "Thank you."

  "For what?"

  "For welcoming me into your home, into your circle… For not being…"

  "A bitch?" She chuckles.

  "Yeah." That too.

  "I leave that up to my sister Karma." Her brow furrows, "Wish she was here today."

  "Where is she?"

  She taps her fingers on the carpet, "Off on holiday in Sicily with some hottie she hooked up with."

  "Oh?" My heart begins to race. It’s only a coincidence. It doesn’t mean anything. Lots of people go to Sicily on holiday with a man… "So, it’s new love, huh?"

  Summer flips her hair over her shoulder, "That’s the thing. I’ve never met him. It was all so sudden. One minute she was calling me to spend the night with her—which is not Karma at all either, by the way—the next she’s texting me to say she’s jetting off on an Italian holiday."

  "Sicilian."

  "That’s what I said." Summer frowns.

  "Not the same thing—" I bite my lips. Shit, shouldn’t have said that. I widen my gaze, "I’m sure she’s having a great time. Everyone deserves at least one dirty holiday with an alpha male of their dreams, huh?"

  "Is that why you chose Saint?"

  I wince. "

  "But that's not the only reason, right?" Amelie inches closer. "You want the security that Saint's money can provide, and the chemistry between the two of you makes for an interesting starting point."

  "I..."

  She waves a hand in the air, "Hey, I'm the last to judge. I mean, relationships have been built on far less. Besides you're one of us, and Saint clearly needs you in his life."
/>   "He does?" My head whirls.

  She nods. "He just doesn't know it yet."

  Oh, man, I can't keep up.

  "You do realize that he's among the most twisted of the Seven?" Amelie's gaze narrows.

  Interesting. Behind that overeager, always ready to please façade, is a sharp brain. And I should be the last to judge a woman by her looks.

  "I am aware that he has certain hidden proclivities," I venture.

  "He’s a dominant?" Isla frowns.

  "They all are." Summer waves her hand in the air.

  Amelie turns on her, "Even Weston?"

  I glance at her features. Her lips are parted, eyes slightly dilated. Is that how I looked when I walked in on Saint?

  She jerks her head to me, and I glance back at Summer.

  "All of the Seven will stop at nothing to get their own way." Summer holds my gaze. "These men are bloody arresting, right?"

  None more so than Saint.

  I want to tame him, while simultaneously throwing myself down at his feet and begging him to take me—is what I want to say. But I'd already pushed it with the TGIF comment, and I don't want these women to think I'm weird. Besides I need them on my side... fast. I nod my head. "You can say that again." I mumble.

  Summer chuckles. Isla snorts.

  "You thought he wouldn't be able to say no to you, that you'd make an offer he couldn't refuse?" Amelie cuts in.

  I blink. Am I that transparent, or are these women unusually perceptive?

  "You did, didn't you?" Amelie crawls close to me, her gaze wide. I glance at her. Her cheeks flush. "Go on, give." She scans my features, her expression expectant.

  "Yep."

  "Wait, what did I miss?" Summer glances between us.

  "I believe step-mama here asked Saint to become her dominant."

  Summer laughs. "No, you didn’t."

  "Yes." I tuck my hair behind my ears. "Though trust me, there’s no," I make air quotes, "’asking’ the man for anything. He wants, he takes," I mutter. "End of story."

  "You’re right about that. Bet that made for an interesting conversation, huh?" Isla nods.

  "You have no idea." I reach for my drink.

  "He turned you down?" Amelia wiggles her legs, her gaze arrested.

  My shoulders sag.

  "How dare he?" Summer grabs a cushion and punches it.