The Billionaire's Convenient Bride: A BWWM Billionaire Love Story
Page 6
The pastor read through the vows, and they repeated promises of everlasting love and devotion to each other, no matter the circumstances, trials or tribulations, and after the promises were made, they both slid rings onto each other’s fingers. Even though she knew it wasn’t a real wedding, even though she knew they would be getting divorced in three years’ time, she could not stop the swell of emotion that rose up in her and spilled lightly down her cheeks.
Peter touched her tears away gently with his fingertips and smiled at her, gazing down at her with his brilliant dark green eyes, and she lost herself in them for a moment before returning her attention to the pastor and his sermon about the importance of keeping their promise and loving one’s partner, no matter what, for all the days of one’s life.
After what seemed like a surreal length of time, the pastor smiled at them both, pronounced them man and wife, and then told Peter that he could kiss his bride. He had been waiting for the moment. He had wanted it, and he had dreaded it. He knew that it would only happen once, for many reasons. He was only going to marry once, because after their marriage ended, he would never marry another woman again, and also because this kiss would be the only one of its kind in that he had the freedom to kiss her any way he liked for as long as he liked, because they had to sell it to the public.
He felt like it was a second chance at a first kiss, a way to make it up to her that he had fouled up their first kiss in the garden. This was his chance to get it right and make it count, and the pressure of this moment that he knew was coming had been weighing on him heavily.
Peter looked down at her as she smiled up at him, her dark brown eyes alight with happiness, her scintillating smile reflecting all the happiness within her, her soft full lips colored in warm rose red tones, and he promised himself that he would always remember every single part of this moment. There was a hush in the room, and the ceiling fans whirred above them, everyone was watching and waiting as he placed his hands carefully on her cheeks and lifted her face to meet his. He had wondered if he would close his eyes or not, and he was torn between watching this moment so that he never forgot what it looked like when he kissed her, and closing his eyes so he could feel it in all its beauty and wonder. It might be his last chance.
His eyes stayed open until his lips touched hers, and at the first touch, he closed them. He wanted to lose himself in her kiss again, for as long as he could. Peter pressed his lips against her gently, softly, as he breathed in the scent of her and felt the smooth warmth of her dark skin beneath his fingers. He felt her fingers touching his as she rested her hands on his; they were cool and light. The taste of her lips was sweet and as intoxicating to him as the fragrance of a rose. He cared not what anyone else thought, as this was his only chance. He opened her mouth with his and as their tongues met for the first time, he felt a surge of electricity move through him and touch every part of his body, stealing away his breath and pulling him to her as though she was the center of gravity for the whole universe.
Peter’s hands moved from her face and slid around her waist, pulling her to him as his kiss deepened, and his entire world began to feel as though it was spinning, and to his amazement, she kissed him back. She kissed him with every bit of passion that he gave her, and she never showed any sign of surprise at his boldness with her. As his mouth moved over hers and he held her tightly to him, he slowly became aware that there was cheering around them, and it seemed to grow louder as he came back to the reality that was his.
He didn’t want to let go of her, to stop his kiss, but he knew that it was time to, and as their kiss came to a close, he opened his eyes and saw her lovely face, and he leaned down to kiss her one last time, gently and sweetly before he let her go and she opened her eyes and blinked at him, breathing in deeply and holding his arms. It was then that he realized he had taken her breath away and she was holding on to him to steady herself. He touched her cheek with his hand, and smiled at her, and then he took a deep breath himself and they turned to face the thunderous applause and cheers of their guests.
They walked hand in hand down the aisle and as they exited the church, their guests all followed them out, each one taking a white handkerchief and following them as the jazz band stepped in line behind them and Emmaline lifted her white parasol high over her head, and Peter donned his top hat. They marched through the French Quarter, the band and the guests trailing along behind them in their own parade of happiness.
When the sunshine touched Peter at the doors of the church, it seemed to him like the spell that had taken hold of him in the church was broken and he was somehow released, feeling more himself than he had during the ceremony, but the power of the kiss they shared haunted the edges of his mind all day as their guests enjoyed a luncheon with them, and a dancing party that lasted long into the night.
At some point near the wee hours between yesterday and tomorrow, Peter stole his new wife away in a car and they left their guests with waves and kisses blown into the wind. The car took them to a yacht that was waiting on the great Mississippi River. They boarded it and the Captain began to sail it to the Bahamas where they were going to honeymoon, or at least have a nice vacation together.
They changed out of their wedding clothes and Peter relaxed on the deck, watching the stars as they shone more and more brightly the further out to sea they sailed. Emmaline joined him after a while and sat beside him, enjoying the feel of the cool air on her skin.
They were silent for a bit, and then she looked at him and said, “Well, it’s official.”
He nodded and laughed a little. “It is. You’re chained to me for three years, and then you get parole.” He winked at her and she nudged him with a chastising smile.
“We were convincing,” she said, looking away from him as she spoke. “I nearly fell for it myself!” she said in a teasing voice.
He looked, but he couldn’t see her face for the dark night around them, and he wished desperately that he could. “Well, I had to make it real. I had to make it count,” he said, wondering what she was really thinking.
“It counted,” was all she said in reply.
He sat there a moment longer with her in silence and then found the courage to say, “Emma, I really appreciate what you did for me today. I realize what a huge sacrifice it is for you, and I want you to know that it isn’t going unnoticed.”
“You’re making a sacrifice as well. No more women for you for a while unless you go out of state to find them. All for the sake of the project you want to do in the city. That’s a big sacrifice, too,” she stated, giving him the benefit of the doubt.
“That’s true, that is a sacrifice.” He laughed at her, but then his tone quieted some and he said, “Yours though, seems bigger. I’m sacrificing regular intercourse with women I care nothing about. That’s not a big deal. You, you’re sacrificing the next three years of your life to live with me as my wife. That’s three years that you won’t be able to find your own Mr. Right, whoever he might be, and maybe get your own serious relationship going, maybe get engaged for real and get married for love. Perhaps have some children. You’re waiting for all of that just to help me out, and that’s huge. That’s the rest of your life on hold just for me.”
“That’s a very thoughtful observation, Peter,” she said, looking at him in surprise. “I guess it is a big sacrifice when you look at it that way.”
He looked over at her nonchalantly and hoped that his question sounded as nonchalant as he wanted it to. “What would your perfect guy be like?”
Her laugh was a little too hollow. “Oh, I don’t know. Build him from the ground up?” she asked.
“Yeah, build him from the ground up. Who is he?” Peter asked, grateful that she had put a sort of game-like spin on the subject.
“He’s a good man. Generous and kind, with a gentle spirit and a good sense of humor. He’s handsome of course,” she giggled.
“Of course.” He nodded back in agreement.
“He’s honest and forthri
ght. He could be evil, but he always chooses to be good. He is gentle and passionate, reliable and responsible. He loves to read and learn, he is a lover of classics and a lover of travel. He is adventurous and free spirited. He is selfless and devoted. He believes in equality for all. He is humble and compassionate, strong and motivated, filled with a passion for life and a passion for me, and more than that, a passion for us and our lives and future. He will never hurt me or break my heart, he will never make me doubt or fear. He will always be there to support and encourage me, to build me up and help give me wings to fly so that I can achieve all my dreams and I will do the same for him in return. He is all of those things, and more than that. He’s mine.” She was gazing off into the heavens by that point, dreamily talking through the list she had created.
“You know that I meant a real man, right?” Peter said, his heart encased in dejection.
She laughed at him and said, “Oh, and he cooks me breakfast in bed sometimes and rubs my back without my having to ask him to do it.”
Peter laughed at her more in defense of himself than in mirth, and said, “Now I know you’re dreaming.”
Emmaline nudged him with her elbow and said, “Well, you asked, but you’re right. I don’t know if he exists, but I haven’t met him yet, so I’m just going to hold out for him until he comes knocking on my door.”
“What if he comes while you are married to me?” he asked. He had to ask. It was a fear that gnawed at him with dull teeth and no lack of appetite.
“Then he’ll love me enough to wait for me until my parole, when I can be with him, and he will respect me for my dedication to the commitments I have made,” she said resolutely.
“He is a good man, Emma. He’s a better man than me. If I found you while you were married to another man, I would steal you away in a minute,” he said, thinking momentarily of what it would be like to steal her away from her another man.
“Yeah, I know,” she said smartly. “That’s what got us into this mess in the first place. Your penchant for stealing women away from their husbands. The difference is, I want a man who would keep me.” She nudged him again and then patted his arm. “Well, I’m pretty wiped out. It was a long day.” She kissed his cheek and he closed his eyes when she did, living for that brief moment when her lips touched his skin, and her breath warmed his cheek, and then she disappeared below deck and he was left alone with his thoughts, which he told himself was a terrible thing to do to a man.
Her words came back to him and whipped at him like the sails on a boat in the wind. “That’s what got us into this mess in the first place…” Him stealing women away from their husbands.
That was what she really thought. She believed she was in a mess that he created, and she was stuck there, helping him until she could get out and leave him hoping to find a better man than him.
She wasn’t wrong, he had created the mess. He had slept with another man’s wife, albeit it was unknown to him at the time he did it. It hadn’t been the first time, though, he reminded himself. He hadn’t cared if women were married or not and though it wasn’t something he sought out when he looked for women, it wasn’t a deterrent for him either.
He thought of the man that she had described. Her ideal man. He was so far from it that there was no hope of him being graded on a curve. He wished like crazy that it didn’t matter. He wished that she could see past all of his faults and just want him anyway, just need him somehow, and perhaps even just love him in spite of himself. He let himself wish that more than anything, and he wished it on every star above him in the night sky, but then he promised himself that when the stars faded and the sun rose the next day, he was going to be the devoted, reliable, trustworthy friend that she believed him to be, and he was not going to let her down or hurt her, but rather, lift her up to follow her dreams as she had wanted. She deserved that from him, and much more, and he thought to himself that irony could strike no harder than him finally falling for a woman who not only wanted no romantic relationship with him, but had married him with no intention of ever having a relationship with him beyond that of friendship.
He looked up at the universe above him in misery. He was getting what he deserved, there was no doubt about that.
Below the deck in her private cabin, Emmaline hung her wedding dress up in the closet and sank back into her bed. Here it was, her wedding night, and she had married a man she did not love, a man she was only friends with, who would be divorcing her in three short years, and this was her honeymoon. Sleeping alone in her cabin on a yacht in the middle of the sea. How ironic, she thought. Her mind wandered back over the day. She saw her grandfather, kissing her cheek and wiping tears from his own eyes. She saw herself walking down the aisle at the church and looking over to find Tristan standing there, his beautiful blue eyes locked on her as they always were whenever he was around her, and the feeling of butterflies going wild within her as she looked back at him. She hadn’t felt that before, and it filled her with wonder and curiosity.
Then she thought of Peter standing there at the end of the aisle, waiting for her and looking so handsome in his tuxedo. He had the strangest look on his face, as though he was in a trance when he watched her, and she realized that he must have been terrified right out of his mind. The man who was never going to have a serious relationship, standing there tying the knot with her and making a commitment before God and all of their friends that he would be her husband for the rest of her life.
She had come to her own terms with God about her choice in marrying him with every intention of divorcing him in three years. She looked at it as a mission of mercy, and fully expected that for what she was doing for Peter, God could forgive her for lying when she married him.
Then she thought of his kiss. It had sent her reeling in his arms and she had almost lost her balance. If she hadn’t held on to him, she was sure she would have hit the floor. She hadn’t expected him to kiss her that way. She thought he would kiss her lightly on the mouth and that would be that, but Peter, ever full of surprises, kissed her like she had never been kissed in her life. He had sent waves of heat and electricity through her that could have lit up Atlantic City for a month. His mouth was so tender, so soft on hers, like a pillow, almost, and he had somehow seemed hungry and gentle all at once, and it had sent her spinning. Thinking of it sent ripples of heat through her and she touched her fingers to her mouth, and for a moment, closed her eyes as the memory of his tongue tasting hers flooded her mind. She wasn’t expecting that at all, and when he opened her mouth and tasted her, it was as though there was suddenly no one else around them. Not just no one else in the church, but no one else anywhere at all, in existence, and her connection to him was the only tether that kept her from flying away. Strong, passionate, gentle, like an anchor that barely held her, but held her with no possibility of letting go.
She felt herself being rocked to sleep in the cabin, and her eyes did not open back up, but rather, she drifted into a deep sleep where dreams of him hovered around her all through the night, and in her dreams, there was darkness, and nothing could save her but his kiss and his arms, holding on to her and wrapping her tightly in the light of his love.
*
Chapter4
Peter and Emmaline enjoyed a long cruise on their honeymoon yacht. They saw several islands and enjoyed watching multitudes of sea creatures. Their island paradise excursions gave them adventures that they loved and new experiences in unfamiliar cultures. It also gave them time to talk and get to know one another on a more personal level that they had not reached before. After all, they had been strangers in an arranged marriage. It was time for them to become friends.
A conversation they had shared on their wedding night as the yacht left New Orleans and headed out to sea had rattled around the back of Peter’s mind and he kept thinking that he would bring it back up to talk with her about it more in depth, but he had not found the right time and place to do it until they were lounging at a private house they had rented on one
of the islands. It was surrounded by jungle vegetation and the luxurious house had been built around a warm natural spring that came up to the deck at the back of it, lapping gently and providing background noise.
Peter had gone out onto the deck late one afternoon and found Emmaline swimming in the spring. He watched her quietly for a length of time before she saw him, and when she did, he waved and walked out to the edge of the deck where it stopped over the water.
“How is the water?” he asked with a smile.
She swam to him, serene and blissful. “It’s incredible,” she said lightly. “You should try it out.”
“Alright,” he agreed, standing up and stripping down to boxers, then jumping into it and splashing everything in sight. She howled and laughed at him, and when he swam up to her, she raked her hand across the top of the calmed water and sprayed him with a huge splash of it. “Payback!” she called out and he answered her challenge with an all-out water war.
Half an hour later, they were both exhausted and he called a truce and went to rest beside her at the bank of the pool. They laughed at one another and she watched him with guarded trust.
Peter looked at her bright smile and sparkling eyes and had to look away so that he didn’t reach out to her and pull her to him to kiss her soundly. He took a deep breath and said nonchalantly, “Well, it might not be a proper honeymoon, but it’s certainly been a fun vacation. I think we both needed this, there’s been a lot of tension lately.”
“Well, that’ll change now that the wedding is over and the city is starting to look at you with new eyes. Did you see all the pictures and articles online?” She was incredulous at the amount of press coverage their pseudo-wedding had received.
“I saw a lot of it. Nelson has been keeping me updated through emails and calls. It looks like our charade is working. I owe you more than I can ever repay you, Emma.” He turned to look at her again, and she shrugged.