Bride: The Deceit Duet Book One

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Bride: The Deceit Duet Book One Page 4

by Logan Chance


  “She’s at the Henderson/Miller wedding across town at the Hilton. Delivering their cake,” the older woman behind the counter informs me with curiosity in her dark eyes. “Are you wanting to order a wedding cake? Clementine is my best. I’m the owner, Dena.”

  “Yes, I guess I’ll be needing one.” I smile, doubting Clementine will want to make ours. “Thanks. I’ll be in touch with her.”

  Much sooner than she thinks. Dena gives me a business card, and when I re-enter the car, I let Stefan know wherever this Henderson/Miller thing is, that’s where I need to be. He nods and pulls away from the small store, heading in the direction of downtown.

  Twenty minutes later, he pulls up in front of the Hilton, and I step out.

  “Wait here,” I direct Stefan, clutching the contract in my hand. “This shouldn’t take long.”

  Just inside the glass doors that open to the lobby, there’s a small stand with an arrow pointing the way toward the wedding. Ignoring the stares thrown my way, I head across the marble floor hall with quick strides to a wide hallway with another directional sign to the nuptials of people I don't know.

  When I open the ballroom doors, all eyes are on me, but not for the same reasons they usually are.

  At the other side of the large space is the bride and groom, standing under an arched white trellis.

  The preacher stares at me. “Sir, do you have any just cause why these two should not be married here today?”

  Shit.

  “No, carry on.”

  I step back through the ballroom door as a hand wraps around my bicep, leading me out. “What are you doing here?”

  I look down at a frowning Clementine. Her face is a complete juxtaposition to her cheerful lemon yellow dress.

  “I brought you something.”

  I hold out the manila envelope, trying not to gawk at the way her breasts fill out the silky fabric hugging them.

  Instead of her gold eyes lighting up, they darken and narrow. Almost like she doesn’t trust me. And why should she? She doesn’t know me.

  “What is it?” She glances down at the papers in my hand. “More contracts?”

  I smile, stepping closer. “Is that any way to treat your fiance?” I hand over the manila envelope. “It’s your sex contract.”

  She closes her eyes, breathing through her nose. “You shouldn’t have brought this to my work, Gabriel.”

  And she’s right. I would murder someone if they interrupted me during a business deal.

  “I signed it.”

  She opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out for a full minute. “I don’t know what to say.”

  I lean in, and immediately regret it. She smells like warm cake. “Now, if you want sex from me, you’ll have to beg me for it.”

  Her cheeks flush. “There will be no begging.”

  I raise a brow. “You have my word, I won’t touch you.” I step back, straightening my suit coat. As I walk away, I peek back over my shoulder and against my better judgement, stoke the flames a little more. “Unless you ask me to.”

  Nine

  Clementine

  * * *

  I don’t ever plan on asking Gabriel to touch me. I watch him walk through the corridor, toward the exit, as if he owns the place. As if he owns me.

  When I can no longer see him, I open the envelope and there’s a note inside.

  Engagement party Friday. Show up early at 3pm.

  The rest of the note is the details of the party, and my eyelid twitches. I fold it up, and head back to the kitchen so Erin and I can get out of here.

  Thirty minutes later, on the car ride back to the store, high on residual happiness from the event we just left, Erin chatters about all things wedding. And then proceeds to make my stomach drop. “You’ll have to start planning yours soon,” she says. “What kind of dress do you want?”

  My heart beats in time with the blinker as I wait to make the left into the Let Them Eat Cake parking lot. I guess this is it. This is really happening. And not the way I imagined it would.

  When you’ve been creating wedding cakes as long as I have, you start to think of certain elements you want at your own wedding.

  I remember being twelve-years-old and Savannah and I would dress up in our mother’s gowns and pretend we were getting married.

  And I was always marrying Prince Charming. But, Gabriel isn’t the prince. He’s the villain in this fairy tale.

  “I don’t care.” I blow a random strand of hair out of my eyes as I park. “Is it weird? It’s weird, right?”

  “Are you kidding me?” Her eyes are huge when I look over. “Take advantage. He’s only the hottest man on the planet.”

  “It doesn’t matter that he’s hot. It’s not a real marriage.”

  “Are you saying vows to each other? Are you both saying, ‘I do?’ Then, it’s a wedding.”

  “You’re right. But, it won’t be like that.”

  “Maybe not in theory. But…” she pauses, and gives me a mischievous grin, “why make it easy on him?”

  “What do you mean?”

  She twists a little in the passenger seat to face me. “I foresee a huge event. One he should be involved in every step of the way.” Her brow raises for emphasis. “Flowers, cakes, menus, every stressful detail that I’m sure he doesn’t want to be bothered with.”

  I laugh a little. “I’m sure he’d rather hand that off.”

  “Exactly.” She smiles.

  “I like that idea.” I blow out a breath. “I better go. Can you give Dena the invoice?” I pull it out of my purse and she takes it from me. “Also, want to come to my engagement party on Friday?” I ask her.

  “Sure, Troy will be at his dad’s house for the weekend.” She unfastens her seatbelt. “I still can’t believe you’re getting married.”

  I roll my eyes a little. “Don’t remind me.”

  She smiles. “You never know, you may come to love him.”

  My mouth hangs open at her words. “Never. I would never love him.”

  I could never love a monster.

  It’s three ten when Erin, Tennyson and I pull up to the grand estate that will soon be my home. Gabriel wanted us to show up early at three on the dot to be here when the party starts. So this is my early. That’s actually pretty good considering the slight meltdown that took place when I told Tennyson he needed to wear his ‘nice’ clothes. After a ten minute compromise consisting of agreeing to his black Batman cape, life returned to normal. Pick your battles.

  As I pull around the circular drive, a regal man in a black suit stands at the edge of the blacktop, ready to take my car.

  “Is there always a valet on hand?” Erin asks, gawking at the behemoth house.

  “Probably,” I answer.

  When I stop, he moves around the car and opens my door. “Good afternoon, Miss.” He holds his hand out, waiting to help me out of my car. It’s all very pompous, but I do it.

  “Oh, ok. Hi.” He smiles, and I take his hand, getting out of the car and then opening the back door. “Just let me get my son.” I lean in and unbuckle Tenny from his car seat. “I want you on your best behavior, ok?”

  He nods. “Best behavior.”

  I clutch Tennyson’s hand in mine and we head toward the front entrance as the valet drives my car off to the unknown. I can’t believe I’ll be living here. It’s all so cold. The breeze flutters Tenny’s cape and I almost laugh at the way he reminds me of a young Bruce Wayne marching up to his soon-to-be empire.

  “I’m Batman,” he says to the very tall man who opens the door.

  “Yes, you are,” he says back with a smile. “And I’m Kurt, Gabriel’s assistant.”

  I like him.

  He smiles at us as we step into the mansion. “Mr. Prince is waiting for you in the study.”

  “Ooh, the study,” Erin says, her eyes meeting mine with a hint of laughter gleaming in them.

  “Thank you, Kurt.” My heels clack against the marble-tiled floor.

 
“This place is like a museum,” Erin says. “Where do you even get floors like this?”

  “It’s Diamond Emperador marble flooring. Joseph Prince imported it directly from Spain,” Kurt says as he shows us to the study.

  “Imported, huh?” Erin says.

  He nods and tells us about the ivory banister on the staircase that Mr. Prince had imported from Egypt. As he leads us to the back of the mansion, he points out various things that must have cost a mini fortune to import here to the States just to put in his home. It’s all so out of my realm.

  “No touching,” I whisper to Tennyson when he reaches for a vase on a pedestal.

  “Where are we?” he asks.

  “We’re here for a party.” I can’t bring myself to tell him yet, this is where we’ll be living soon.

  “I love parties. Will there be a clown?”

  I smile at his love of clowns. After this, I can hire him a hundred clowns for his birthday party. “It isn’t that type of party, sweetheart.”

  We all enter the study, where Gabriel sits behind the desk, looking ominous, dressed in a black suit, with a stark white shirt underneath the jacket. His hair is gelled to such perfection, even a male hair model would be jealous of it.

  I give a quick gaze down at my simple black dress and take a deep breath to say hello, but before I can get a word out, Gabriel glances up and smiles.

  “Hey,” he says a little breathy, like he’s actually happy to see me. The slight smile is suddenly replaced with his cold mask he usually wears as he grits out, “I said three pm.”

  “Try being on time with a four-year-old.”

  Gabriel stares at Tennyson as I hold my breath. “Nice cape.”

  “I’m Batman,” Tennyson says as he holds the cape out.

  Gabriel stands and I introduce him to Erin. After we chit-chat about the upcoming party that is set to start in a few hours, Gabriel suggests Erin take Tennyson to the indoor playground.

  “Does it have a slide?” Tennyson asks with a big smile and hopeful eyes.

  Gabriel leans over to speak directly to Tennyson. “It sure does.”

  I smile, and the four of us walk downstairs.

  “My grandfather had the playground put in when Ronin and I were young.” Gabriel glances back at us as he leads us further down the hallway. “You should see my house in Cali.”

  “Is that where you live?” Erin asks him.

  He nods. “I have nine houses scattered across the world. But the one in Northern California is my favorite.”

  “Why?” Tennyson’s little voice asks.

  Gabriel laughs at Tenny taking an interest. “Because it has the most toys.”

  Tennyson’s eyes light up and I squeeze his hand gently. “Not those types of toys,” I say to him.

  Gabriel stops walking to glance at me. “Oh, there’s tons of toys for the whole family. I have over twenty different types of drones. One of the tallest rock walls ever made. I have a glider. An indoor basketball court.” He shrugs. “All that’s missing really is a circus.”

  Oh no. He’s mentioned one of Tennyson’s favorite things. “I love the circus,” Tennyson shouts.

  We all laugh.

  “Well, one day, we’ll have to go,” Gabriel says, and I nearly stumble over my feet.

  I don’t know how I feel about him making plans with my son like a father would make with his own child. It feels surreal.

  And I can tell Erin thinks so too, because her eyes meet mine and her eyebrows raise a little.

  We make it to the indoor playground, and it’s bigger than any home playground I’ve ever seen.

  “Sorry, it hasn’t been used in a while,” Gabriel says as he flicks on a light.

  There’s a rope ladder, with a twisty slide that dumps right into a ball pen.

  I’m kind of jealous they get to stay down here and play while I help prepare for the party.

  At least that’s what I think I’ll be doing. Gabriel didn’t really say, but he didn’t suggest I stay down here.

  I mean, he wanted me here early for a reason, and now I’m wondering what it could be.

  “I just need your mother’s help with something really quick. Would you want to play down here until the party starts?” Gabriel asks Tennyson.

  Tenny’s eyes brighten as he nods over and over again.

  Swift and efficient, Gabriel goes through the motions of getting everything set up for Erin and Tennyson. He calls an attendant, who appears within seconds, asking for water bottles for the two of them.

  The man nods, rushing from the playground.

  “If you need anything push this button and he’ll return,” Gabriel says to Erin, handing her a remote control looking device. “Have fun.”

  “Thank you so much,” she says back.

  I help get Tennyson settled, and then walk over to Erin. “Are you ok here?”

  “Of course. Go handle whatever you need to. We’ll be fine.”

  “Ok, I’ll come and get you before the party starts.”

  Erin smiles. “I can’t wait.”

  Gabriel and I leave them in the indoor playroom, and I follow him through the hallway.

  He stops once we are a distance away from it and steps a little closer to me.

  “Press will be showing up a little later to get the details of our engagement,” he says.

  “And just what are the details?” I’m sure Gabriel isn’t going to tell the world his grandfather constructed the whole thing.

  “We met, fell in love, and are now getting married.”

  I cross my arms. “Ah, so now we have to pretend?” I step closer, meeting his eyes. “The contract said marriage, it never said anything about pretending to be happily in love.”

  “Clementine, do you know how many women would kill to be married to me?”

  “Well, let them marry you then.”

  His eyes narrow. “I will not parade a wife in front of the world who appears to despise me.”

  “But…”

  He cuts in, “Hate me on your own time. Hell, I know I’ll be doing the same thing. But, to the public, we’re in love.”

  I try to reign in the anger. This was never part of the deal. “I don’t understand why it even matters.”

  He steps closer, leaning in until we’re practically nose to nose, bracing his hand against the wall behind my head. “I have things going on that require finesse. Business deals that are in need of fine tuning. I will not have a wife defying me.”

  “Defy?” I whisper.

  “To the public we are in love. If you refuse, I’ll sue you for breach of contract.”

  “You can’t…”

  He raises his hand, and cuts me off, “I can and I’ll win.”

  Now it’s my turn for my eyes to narrow. “You’re impossible, Gabriel Prince.”

  He steps away, and glances over his shoulder. “I know.”

  Ten

  Gabriel

  * * *

  She most likely hates me. I’ll show her what real hatred is. I’ll break her. “Follow me,” I say before I get too far away.

  “Where are we going?” she asks.

  I hit the button on the indoor elevator to take me to the third floor. “To get you a new dress.”

  She glances down at the dress she has on. “What’s wrong with this?”

  Nothing at all. As a matter of fact, she looks more beautiful in her simple dress than any woman I’ve ever seen. “I have billions, you need to show off the fact that I have money to spare.”

  The bright light of the elevator highlights sparks of red in her auburn hair and I probably shouldn’t be looking forward to seeing her in what I purchased.

  “You just have dresses laying around?”

  “I had my assistant buy you a gown.”

  Her amber eyes are cautious as the elevator door opens and she finally uses those long, golden legs to exit. She doesn’t say anything as I lead her down the hallway to my personal bedroom.

  “This way,” I say to her
as I open the door.

  “I just want to point out, my dress looks just like everyone else’s at parties like these.”

  I shut the door behind her and lock it. “We are not everybody else.” I walk across the room toward the oversized oak armoire where a white garment bag hangs from the top. “This is what you’ll be wearing.” I slide the zipper down and pull out the flowy red Dior dress that cost a small fortune.

  She steps closer. “Ah, it’s beautiful.”

  A jab of pride hits my chest at impressing her, but I stifle it down and choke the life out of it as I clear my throat. “You need to make an impression. You’re now an extension of me and everything about you will be critiqued.”

  “Can’t wait.” She reaches out to touch the silky fabric. “How do you know it’ll fit?”

  I drop the dress on the bed, and turn to face her. She lets out a tiny yelp when I grab her waist with both hands. “Because I can guess your size.”

  Her eyes war with mine. “Oh, you’ve been with that many women that you’re an expert on sizes?”

  I lift an eyebrow. “Yes.”

  She’s right, I have been with my fair share of women, and holding onto her waist shouldn’t have my dick spurring to life, but it does.

  I drop my hands. “That’s not the only thing I bought you.” I step over to a white box resting on the dresser and pick it up. “Here.” I walk back over to where Clementine stands in the room. “Look inside.”

  She takes the box from me and lifts the lid, her golden eyes widening. “Oh my god.”

  “You can’t half-ass it.”

  “This is just…” Her eyes are about as big as the round diamond nestled in the box as she stares at it.

  “Put it on. Let’s make sure it fits.”

  “Is it real?” she asks as she pulls the engagement ring out of its box.

  I raise a brow. “Of course it’s real. Now try it on.”

  She slides the platinum band on her ring finger and holds her hand out to get a better look. “It’s a perfect fit.”

  I smile with pride. “Good.” I cross the room. “There’s more.”

 

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