Sinful Takeover_An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Piper Sullivan

  “Is Gemma here?” No point beating around the bush.

  Mrs Fox nodded. “Sure is,” she said, standing to one side and gesturing for me to enter. “Come on through.”

  The living room was exactly as I remembered it, down to the old TV blaring in the corner and the shag pile rug on the floor.

  She was sitting at the table, writing in a notebook. She looked up when she heard us come in. Her mouth dropped open.

  “Would you two like some chocolate chip cookies I made this morning?” Mrs Fox asked, looking from me to Gemma.

  I almost laughed. It was exactly what she used to ask every time I came here as a youngster. But I didn’t think chocolate chip cookies could fix this situation.

  “No thanks, Mom,” Gemma quickly answered. “I might just take Lance out the back. Show him your garden.”

  “As you wish, dear.” Mrs Fox took the hint, and walked away.

  I looked at Gemma. It was like I hadn’t seen her in years, rather than two days ago.

  I was struck by her beauty all over again. God, but she was the most beautiful woman who walked this earth. She stood up, gesturing to me to follow her.

  We stood in the garden. hen Gemma turned to me. “Why are you here, Lance?” She appraised me slowly.

  It was now or never. I had to dig deep, find that courage. She was worth it.

  “Gemma, I’m a goddamn fool,” I said. “I fucked up. I’m so sorry.”

  “You did fuck up,” she agreed. “How could you violate my privacy like you did?”

  I hung my head. I deserved that.

  “I don’t know what I was thinking,” I answered eventually. “I was looking for something else, to begin with. And then when I saw your messages, it was like something just came over me. I wanted to know everything about you. That’s why I made the list.” She went to talk, but I cut her off. “No, let me finish,” I said. “I know it was wrong. I don’t have any defence. I was a damn coward, thinking it was my only way back to you. That I could impress you, somehow, with a knowledge of what you wanted.” I turned to her, taking a deep breath. “I love you, Gemma Fox. I’ve loved you forever.”

  She gasped. “You love me?”

  I nodded slowly. “I love you so much it hurts. I should have told you before now. I was a fool.”

  She was looking up at me with eyes swimming with tears.

  “Lance,” she whispered. “I love you, too.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You love me? You aren’t in love with Jack anymore?”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry I led you to believe that. The truth is, I got over Jack a long time ago. Yes, it hurt like hell when I heard that he died. We had shared a lot of our lives, and I still cared for him.” She stopped, looking at me. “But I hadn’t been in love with him for a long, long time.”

  I walked up to her as if in a dream, taking her in my arms. She didn’t resist. I kissed her, long and slow and sweet. It was the sweetest kiss of my life. She looked up at me, those huge green eyes raking over my face.

  “I’m still as mad as hell at you,” she said. “You are going to have to make it up to me.”

  “Anything,” I vowed. “I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Just tell me that we have a future together. I want you to be my wife, Gemma Fox. I want you by my side forever.”

  Her eyes widened. “Was that a proposal?”

  “Well, yes,” I said. I got down on one knee, taking her hand. “Will you marry me, Gemma?” I didn’t have a ring. It wasn’t how I had planned it.

  But it was perfect. Gemma, as I had always known her, in her parents’ yard. Those golden curls whipping around her face.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, yes, yes.”

  I let out a whoop, grabbing her and twirling her around.

  She laughed, tossing her head back so the curls fell down her back.

  “So,” she said. Her eyes were shining. “This list. What else is on it?”

  I grinned. “A whole lot more. I reckon we could keep adding to it for the rest of our lives.” It was true.

  I wanted nothing more, but to keep discovering her, peeling back the layers of this amazing woman.

  THE END

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  Royal Deal: A Billionaire Romance

  Chapter 1

  The heat slams into me as I step down off the plane onto the private tarmac; oppressive and heavy. A far cry from the cool, crisp temperatures of the air-conditioned cabin of the corporate jet, the Washington humidity is relentless. Beads of sweat immediately form on the nape of my neck, causing my hair to curl. Desperate to escape the brutal heat of the July sun, I hastily made my way to the waiting limo.

  Sliding to the far side of the vehicle, I breathe a sigh of relief at once again being in the comforts of air conditioning. Pulling out my compact, I tried to comb my fingers through my hair willing it to straighten back out. With a sigh, I clamp the compact shut; resigned to the fact that the time spent meticulously straightening my naturally wavy locks, had been in vain. Thankfully, my father had deemed it pertinent that we arrive in D.C. a day early to prepare for the upcoming contract negotiations. I would have time tomorrow morning to re-tame the wild tendrils.

  The car door opened once more, letting in another blast of heat as my father and his Vice President of Defense Operations, Alistair Todwick, joined me. As the CEO of Aughton Securities and a royal descendent, Michael Sheffield was an imposing figure. A career military man, he spent a decade in the Royal Welsh Regiment before building his defense firm from the ground up. He carried himself with a certain poise. His dark eyes; keen with intelligence and scrutiny, could command your attention from across the room.

  Where my father was tall, dark, and formidable; Alistair Todwick was his polar opposite. With fair skin, blue eyes and light hair, Alistair literally paled in comparison to my father. Despite being of royal blood, my father came from humble beginnings. His great-grandmother had been the Countess of Essex and sixth in line to the throne, but she had fallen in love with a commoner. Bucking tradition, she had opted to marry her sheep farmer.

  Giving up the life of luxury that the palace provided, she and her husband tended the sheep, worked the farm, and raised their family away from the spotlight. It was the kind of romance that fairytales were made of. They ended up having five children and 14 great-grandchildren, one of those being my father.

  As a sheep farmer’s son, my father had worked his way through college mucking stalls, and working the family farm before setting out to build his dream. Aughton Securities was one of the most prominent defense firms in the U.K. and he also held a position as a member of the Welsh Parliament. He carried himself with an innate hardness and determination.

  Whereas Alistair’s family had money, tons of it, and he grew up the pampered prep-school boy with a silver spoon. Attending Eton and later Cambridge, Alistair was brilliant, but he was weak and soft, and carried himself with an air of entitlement. I didn’t understand what my father saw in him, but father continued to praise his work and requested that he accompany us on this trip.

  Alistair made every effort to look like the devoted employee in my father’s presence, but behind his back, he scoffed at having to take orders from a ‘hired hand.’ Alistair couldn’t get past the scandal of my father’s great-grandmother not marrying royalty. He could only dream of having the lineage that my father had. He felt that the success of the company was due to his endeavors and efforts rather than my father’s hard work. He also took his sense of entitlement too far, making inappropriate comments and requests to his staff, particularly to the females. He had very strong opinions about a woman’s place; their time better spent on their backs than in the office. Having been on the receiving end of his unwanted advances, I couldn’
t stand to be in the same car with him let alone be spending an entire weekend working with him. He made my skin crawl.

  Already having a natural disdain toward women, he took particular exception with me and my position as Chief Legal Counsel, despite my qualifications. I had worked my way up through the firm, never accepting a helping hand from my father. Not that it was offered. My father didn’t believe in handouts. No daughter of his was going to be given a free-ride, regardless of bloodline or royal heritage. Nor did I want one.

  I was proud of my lineage, but I didn’t want any favors. Technically, my father was the Viscount of Essex, which made me the Baroness of Essex but I never used the title. I wanted to earn my way, rather than have it be handed it to me because of a title. I started as a legal intern in the corporate office at Aughton Securities as I studied contract law at Oxford. Graduating in the top ten of my class, I was offered lucrative partnerships in prestigious law firms across the U.K. and abroad. Instead, I chose to stay and accept a junior associate position in my father’s company.

  I still remember the gleam of pride in his eye when I formally announced that I would be following in his footsteps at the company. He had never once engaged me as to what path I should choose upon graduation. I was his only child, his baby, yet he stepped back and let me decide for myself. I respected him so much more for that. In the end, it was an easy decision for me. I wanted to continue the legacy of what he had built. But, I was determined to make a name for myself on my own merit, out from under the shadow of my father.

  Over the years, I had worked my way up from junior associate to partner, and now to Chief Legal Counsel. Alistair resented my rise in the company, especially now that my title and position was above his own. Deciding that the only way to gain true control of the company was to be Michael’s son-in-law, Alistair launched a ridiculous campaign to court me. Recognizing him for the lecherous snake that he was, I quite publicly stymied his advances. Letting it be known in no uncertain terms that I was not, nor would I ever be, interested in any kind of involvement with him.

  When his efforts to win control of the company through marriage failed, his animosity and cruelty only continued to grow. In the company of my father, he portrayed the perfect touch of admiration, respect, and willingness to collaborate. But behind closed doors and out of my father’s earshot, he looked for any opportunity to sabotage or belittle my accomplishments.

  Scooting over to make room for them in the limo, I thought about how quiet things had been of late. It could only mean one thing. He was planning something, something big.

  Chapter 2

  The ride to the hotel was relatively uneventful. That is if you exclude Alistair’s repeated attempts to invade my personal space. Upon climbing into the limousine, rather than take a seat opposite me, he proceeded to slide all the way over to my side so we were touching. Bile rose in the back of my throat as he pressed his thigh firmly against mine. Aware of my discomfort he simply sneered, offering a trite apology.

  “Pardon me, Angelique.” But he made no attempts to slide back over.

  Refusing to be baited, I simply smiled and said, “Oh, it’s no problem Alistair. I’ll just move over to this side to make room for Father.” Before he could think of a retort, I quickly added, “I know you mentioned wanting to go back over the contract negotiation strategy for tomorrow, and this will give me the space to pull those documents.”

  Consciously aware of the length of my skirt, I maneuvered over to the opposite bench seat, careful to keep my posterior away from Alistair’s lecherous gaze. Other than the slight clenching of his jaw, he gave away no indication of his feelings over being thwarted yet again.

  Before he could have an opportunity to play musical chairs, I quickly hoisted my briefcase and laptop onto the seat next to me. Continuing the pretense of wanting to peruse the contracts, I pulled out several copies of the draft proposal.

  “That’s an excellent idea,” my father said as he climbed in next to Alistair. “I want to make sure that we are well prepared for tomorrow. Ingenix is known for being shrewd negotiators, and I want to make sure that we are all on the same page.”

  With one more measured look in my direction, Alistair redirected his gaze to my father. “Are you sure that you don’t want to consider other local companies for a contract of this size?” Alistair questioned. “Why insist upon an American based company when we could easily use Senturian Security or Fosseway?”

  Alistair had made his feelings quite clear about the idea of branching out and working with a foreign company. His disdain for the United States, barely hidden beneath the surface. It all went back to his family and his family’s money. He was an elitist and felt that the West was far inferior to anything the U.K. or the rest of Europe could offer. But more importantly, his father Archibald Todwick sat on the Board of both of those security firms and would no doubt receive some kind of kickback for securing the multi-billion dollar contract with Aughton.

  Unable to contain my misgivings and outright disdain for “good ole’ boys clubs” I quickly interjected. “Alistair we are well aware of your predilection for both Senturian and Fosseway. But personal feelings aside, we need to think about what is best for Aughton.”

  I could see his temper rising. “Angelique, I am not sure what you are referring to, but I assure you I have only Aughton’s best interests at heart.” The tips of his ears turning red at my admonishment. “I am simply conveying a concern that we may be overlooking a more reasonable alternative than a relatively unknown company from the States.”

  “And as Chief Legal Counsel for Aughton, I would be remiss in my duty if I overlooked the fact that your family is personally linked to both of those two companies. As much as I would love to support an employee relationship, I must be objective in providing my recommendations.”

  Alistair huffed in anger, his mouth dropping open in shock of my open criticism. But, my father placed a hand up halting his response.

  My father’s voice rang with authority, “Enough you two.” With a warning look at me he continued, “You both have made your views quite clear. However after careful consideration, I have made my decision to proceed with negotiations with Ingenix. And that is final.”

  Realizing the reprimand had been directed at both of us, Alistair quickly backpedaled.

  “Of course, Michael. I did not mean to imply that I did not support your decision. Shall we review some of the areas you deem most pertinent.”

  Having dashed the squabble, for the remainder of the car ride we focused on ironing out the issues and key areas of the contract where we felt we were most vulnerable. By the time we pulled up to our hotel, everyone had relaxed and felt much more confident about our position going into tomorrow’s negotiations.

  Scribbling the last few notes and amendments to the contract, I repacked the documents into my briefcase. Snapping it shut, I turned to my father and said, “I will type up the changes and will have them back to you later this evening; once I get settled into my suite.”

  “Won’t you be joining us for dinner,” my father asked. “I made reservations at Mastro’s. It is supposed to be the best in the city.”

  Normally, I would love nothing more than to enjoy dinner with my father away from the office. But the idea of having to sit across from Alistair and listen to his constant drivel gave me a headache.

  Smiling apologetically, I politely declined. “I’m sorry father, but I feel the jetlag is getting to me more than usual, and I want to make sure that I am sharp for tomorrow. You and Alistair enjoy your meal.”

  “Okay, honey. I’ll get us checked in and you can go straight on up to your room.”

  Stepping out of the limo first, I was keenly aware of the tension rolling off Alistair in waves when my father exited. Not relishing the thought of being in the limo alone with Alistair, I made for the door. But he was too quick. He shut the door before I could reach it. Holding on to the handle, he turned back to me.

  “And just where do you thi
nk you’re going lil missy,” he sneered.

  “Get out of my way, Alistair!”

  Stroking a finger down my face with his other hand, he grabbed a lock of my hair and pulled sharply. I cried out in pain as sharp needles stabbed my scalp. Wrenching my head back so it was mere inches from his he snarled, “Don’t you ever try to embarrass me like that again!” His breathe was hot in my face. “You will do well to remember your place. You may carry his name, but you will never be in charge.”

  “Take your hands off me. Now.” I said with as much steel in my voice as I could muster. Truth be told, I was afraid of Alistair. He was becoming increasingly more desperate and volatile. Inside, I feared what he might do.

  Thankfully, the door was wrenched from his grasp as the bellhop came to escort us to our rooms. Letting go of my hair, he forced a fake smile, extending his arm, “After you.”

  Anxious to put some distance between us, I all but bolted from the car, forcing the bellhop to jog after me. I didn’t relax until I was in the safety of my hotel room and the chain was on the door. I had no doubts, this was going to be a very long trip.

  Chapter 3

  These security conventions were all the same, I thought to myself as I scanned the intimate gathering of private government contractors, politicians, high-ranking military officials and even a few foreign diplomats. All impeccably dressed and milling about, sipping on expensive champagne and snacking on professionally catered hors d’ouevres of oysters Rockefeller, Beluga caviar and mini salmon croquettes in the posh banquet hall of The Fairmont Hotel.

  Tonight was just the standard casual meet and greet; a means to connect with potential clients. However, I was more interested in preparing for my meeting with Aughton Securities tomorrow, but I knew the importance of networking. Especially, since it did not come naturally to me.