Bad Duke_An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Emily Bishop

  “You can’t complain. You’ve done the same to me.”

  Then he leans in and kisses me. I forget the hospital and everyone in it. I kiss him back. It’s a soft kiss, our lips teasing each other with gentle touches.

  “Oooh!” Sandra says as she comes back in. “Look at you lovebirds!”

  We pull away, and I giggle self-consciously. Boy, today has been a real rollercoaster.

  Gray says, “I count myself the luckiest man in the world.”

  Sandra nods. “And so you should. She’s a gem.”

  “No disrespect, madam, but she’s not just a gem. She’s a diamond.”

  I feel like crying again.

  “Oh, I wish I had a boyfriend like yours,” Melody says dreamily. I had no idea she was even paying attention.

  I expect her mother to make a disapproving comment, but she’s so absorbed in her book she doesn’t even look up.

  I look at them all for a moment: Melody, her mother, Sandra, my other customers, my other employees. And I let the daydream I’ve been thinking about all these days pour out of my mouth. “Guys?” Everyone looks up at me. I feel this warm glow inside. “I expect you’re wondering what’s going to happen with the store now. We’re going to move you all to another store nearby, and we’ll provide transport to get there if needed. Then I’m going to rebuild the store bigger and better, even more luxurious. All of you will receive compensation through our insurance. And I want to offer all of our customers here $5,000 to spend in any of our stores, on top of the compensation from the insurance company.”

  “Wow,” Melody’s mother says.

  “I told you that you were wrong about her,” Melody says. “She’s the best.”

  Gray smiles and holds my hand tightly. “That she is.”

  Chapter 29

  Grayson

  DAY 30

  Today’s the day. And I’ve never felt more alive, even though I’m in the mansion that always feels like it’s sucking the life out of me. I still don’t like it, with the creepy portraits staring out at me, and the dark tapestries full of dust. But it doesn’t have a hold on me like it used to.

  I wake next to Isabella. Sun streams through the open window and illuminates her face in fresh morning light. Now when I look at her and feel such a deep sense of happiness washing over me, it doesn’t scare me anymore. It doesn’t feel like she has some mystic and sinister power over me, pulling parts out of me I never knew existed. That’s how it used to be. Now it’s glorious. Like victory every time I look into her eyes.

  She opens hers, blinking sleepily. A sleepy, happy smile crosses her face as she realizes where she is, realizes I’m next to her. This is bliss. My mother was always reciting poetry about the depths of love and soaring to blissful heights and being with each other even beyond death. She loved all the classics. Sometimes as a little boy I used to recite them, too. But I never understood them. It all sounded alien, packed with emotions only weak or strange people would have. But now I’m sinking. Flying. Drowning. Soaring. On wings I never knew existed for anyone. Much less for me.

  “Morning, Gray,” she says. Her voice sounds like music.

  I stroke her dark curls away from her face. “Morning, Isabella.”

  She sits up and hugs into me, curling up small. I love the feel of her satin nightgown against my skin. “Do you really think Mr. Fink will let this all go through?”

  “Yes,” I reply strongly. “He’d be a fool if he didn’t.”

  She looks up at me, her blue eyes like a dream. “Well, then, we just have to hope he’s not a fool.”

  “Don’t worry,” I tell her. “I’ll make sure you get the money you need. I can’t wait to see your business back on its feet. We’re going to bring it all to a new glory. Then start our angel investing. We’ll be successful. Successful and happy. And nothing can stand in our way.”

  She giggles. “Fighting talk. I love it.” She leans up and kisses me. “I’d better shower and go put on my battle clothes.”

  “No battles here. Just victory.” I give her one last kiss and we both get up.

  I’ll wear my powder blue linen suit. It’s in an African pattern with white and blue detailing. It’s certainly eye-catching. I’d have never thought of wearing that in front of old Fink before, but I’m not trying to please him. I don’t want to pretend anymore. I want this all to be real. With a crisp white shirt and gray leather shoes, that suit will feel like me. And that’s all I want to be right now. Not an arrogant, manipulative bullshitter. Not a smooth-talking ladies’ man. Not a bad boy. Just me. Me, just as I am.

  I dress quickly and decide to have a proper breakfast, something I’ve only started doing recently. Before, it was just a coffee or an energy drink. I go down to the kitchen and fix it for myself. Croissant with butter. Granola with milk. Orange juice. I feel fresh. I feel light. I fix some for Isabella for when she comes down.

  Eddie stalks in as I’m enjoying a moment of pure, simple happiness. “I was looking for you,” he says harshly.

  “My brother,” I say.

  “Cousin.”

  “Sit.” I pull out the stool next to mine at the breakfast bar.

  He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Nah, I’m all right.”

  He doesn’t look all right. “What’s up, bro?”

  “I’m not happy with the ten percent you offered me. I want forty.”

  “I can’t.” I want all the money I can get, not for yachts and big cars and gambling anymore, but to help struggling businesses. “I’m starting a business doing angel investing for various—”

  “I couldn’t care less. I want my cut. You should count yourself lucky I didn’t sabotage your whole little game with Isabella. Remember, if you fuck up, all the money comes to me.”

  I feel this horrible clenching in my stomach. “Look, one hundred mil is a hell of a lot of money, Eddie, you can do anything with that.”

  “Then you take the hundred mil, if it’s so much money, and I’ll take the rest.”

  I’m almost speechless. “Why are you only saying this now? Is there something in particular you want to do with the money?”

  “I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” he says tightly.

  Something in me snaps. “We had our agreement, and it still stands. Ten percent or nothing, Eddie. Take your pick.”

  He takes a fake flourishing bow. “Oh, thank you for your largesse, Your Grace.”

  I rock back in my chair. “You’ve changed.”

  “No,” he says, his eyes flinging fire. “You’ve changed.”

  “Yes, I have,” I agree. “I’m becoming a better man, and it feels damn wonderful.”

  “Good for you,” he scoffs. “Get me my forty percent, or your life might start feeling not so wonderful after all.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  He pokes me in my shoulder, sending me almost falling off the stool. “Just get me my forty percent.”

  I leap to my feet. “Don’t touch me, you bastard.” I hold my head up high. “I’m not going to fight you.”

  Eddie laughs but without any joy. “You’re such a stuck-up idiot. You think you’re so special. Anyway, Isabella’s only using you. You’ll see when she runs with her cut and never sees you again.”

  “Don’t say one more word about Isabella.” I stand up close to him.

  He shoves me away. “Or what? In fact, don’t even answer that. I don’t want to hear another sentence out of you except, here’s your forty percent cut, Eddie.”

  “In your dreams.”

  He raises his eyebrows. “I can make your life very difficult, Gray. You know, say, come to the meeting and wrap Mr. Fink around my little finger. He always liked me better, anyway.”

  “Come to the meeting,” I spit. “You think I’m afraid of you? Come to the meeting and do your worst. Now get the hell out of here.”

  Isabella appears at the door with a smile. “Oh, hello, Eddie.”

  “Hello,” he says. Then he turns to me as he says, �
��Good luck today, Isabella. Good luck.”

  “Thank you. We’re pretty confident.” She’s so happy she’s missing the undercurrent completely.

  I am so mad I don’t even want to talk about it. I dive into my granola and put all thought of Eddie out of my mind.

  ***

  Before long, we’re in the drawing room again. I skip over the Financial Times and the port this time. It’s too early to drink, anyway. I’ve felt confident up to this moment. Now my palms sweat, and my chest buzzes with something uncomfortable. I sit in the armchair and try to look poised. Isabella’s the same, fussing with the folds of her dress over and over as she sits on the couch.

  “Are you nervous?” she whispers.

  I pause. “A little. But we’ll be fine. Totally fine.”

  “Yes,” she says. “Totally fine,” she repeats, like a mantra.

  We share eye contact, and it’s like we’re giving each other strength on a loop, running from me to her, from her to me, from me to her.

  Eddie strides in. “This is going to be great,” he says, then flops himself down on the couch next to Isabella. “What a wonderful day for you. You must be so happy.” He shoots me a mischievous look. Like a cat playing with a mouse. But I’m no mouse.

  “Thank you for your best wishes,” I say, loosely and freely. He can’t rattle me, not one bit. “Your support is much appreciated.”

  We all sit in silence until Mr. Fink is brought in by one of the staff.

  “Hello, there,” he says. “Good morning to all.”

  I stand up and shake his hand, as does Eddie.

  “Pleasure to see you,” Eddie says, with far too much gusto.

  Mr. Fink sits in the armchair and unpacks his briefcase. He lays the papers on the table. There’s a contract with two dotted lines. My whole future is at stake. Our whole future is at stake.

  He looks up at me with those piercing gray eyes. “So, Gray. This is your final chance to convince me you’re a changed man.”

  “I really am different, Mr. Fink.” I look at Isabella. “It’s like… I never even knew what life really was until Isabella came into mine.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Eddie says huffily. “Listen, Finky, let’s cut the shit here. This is exactly what’s going on here. Gray is doing all this wonderful pretending to get his hands on the money.”

  I leap to my feet. “No!”

  “Sit down,” Mr. Fink orders.

  I sit. I could punch Eddie’s lights out. Hold onto control, Gray. Hold onto control.

  “Continue, Edward,” Mr. Fink says.

  “I was playing along at first.” He makes a big show of looking down at his fingers and looking uncomfortable. “Because Gray’s my cousin and we’re such good friends. But the truth is, I can’t any longer. He really is irresponsible. And because I care so much about my uncle’s legacy, I think it’s my duty to let you know the truth. The truth is that Isabella and I are in love.”

  “What?” Isabella and I say in unison.

  Mr. Fink holds his hands out. “Continue,” he says to Eddie.

  “We had a plan, the three of us, to deceive you. Isabella and I were going to take a cut, and Gray was going to take the larger sum. But I can’t do this in good conscience. He’s going to fritter away our family legacy.”

  Mr. Fink purses his lips. He’s silent for a long time. Then finally he says, “Well, first that article. Now this. This all seems completely out of hand.”

  “It’s not,” I rush to say.

  But he gives me a glare. “It is.” He begins to put the contract back in the briefcase. “I’m afraid with all this lying and concealment, this arrangement is going to have to—”

  “No!” I get to my feet. “Eddie’s lying. Completely and utterly lying.”

  “It’s his word against yours,” Mr. Fink says evenly. “And you are not exactly the most reliable person.”

  “No, I haven’t been,” I admit. “But I’ve always been honest. I was never hiding what I was doing, even when I was totally ruining my own life. But Eddie? He’s the exact same as me. But he pretended to be the good boy, the innocent one, to my father, and now he’s doing the same to you.”

  “I don’t believe a word that either of the two of you say.” Mr. Fink gets up from the chair and turns to leave. I feel the whole world is crashing down. All I can do is watch him walk away.

  “Then maybe you’ll believe me,” Isabella says.

  Mr. Fink turns. “Try me,” he says, but doesn’t move from the doorway.

  Isabella stands. “Gray and I have a confession to make. Gray, tell him the truth. The full truth. Nothing but the truth.”

  I swallow. What on earth is she doing? I can’t find my voice.

  “Go on,” she urges.

  I still don’t know where to start.

  “Gray and I were deceiving you before, Mr. Fink. We were.” She takes the engagement ring off. “This is a cheap ring. It’s not real.”

  “Isabella,” I whisper.

  “We planned a fake engagement so you’d hand over the money. He was going to give me a cut to rescue my father’s business.”

  “She’s lying. She’s in love with me!” Eddie says.

  Mr. Fink turns on him impatiently. “Be quiet.”

  “But—”

  “Be quiet, or remove yourself. Don’t interrupt again.”

  Eddie pushes himself back in the chair and crosses his arms like a sulking child.

  “Continue, Miss Price,” Mr. Fink says.

  “We were planning to fool you all this time,” she says. “But then something happened that neither of us expected.”

  “She fell in love with me!” Eddie says.

  Mr. Fink turns on him, his gray eyes like a storm. “Remove yourself this instant.”

  Eddie pushes himself off the chair. “Don’t listen to these liars, Mr. Fink. When you want to hear the truth, call me.”

  “Excuse the interruption,” Mr. Fink says to Isabella. “Please continue.”

  “As I was saying, something happened that neither of us expected.” She takes my hand and looks at me with adoring eyes. I know she wants me to finish what she’s started.

  “We… fell in love,” I say. It comes from the deepest part of me. I’ve never felt so much in the right place in the right time in my whole life.

  Mr. Fink looks skeptical. “And what does that look like, Gray?”

  I feel something stir in the depths of me. “Like… like I can be a better man. Like I’m not the horrible person I always thought I was. Like I’ve been shutting so much of life out. Chasing fun, fun, fun all the time. But that all feels hollow now. It’s not real. It’s just a distraction. But, this…” I look at Isabella, and the feeling in my chest is overwhelming. “This is real.”

  I look at Mr. Fink, praying he’ll believe me. His face has softened. “Is this true?” he asks Isabella.

  “Yes,” she says through a joyful breath. Her face spreads into the most beautiful smile. “Yes, it’s true.”

  Mr. Fink watches us both closely for a moment. I’ve never felt like this before. Standing in the truth. The messy but beautiful truth. It’s almost as if I don’t care what the outcome is. Sure, the money would take our lives to the next level. But even if he turns us down, we’ll still have each other. We’ll have the truth. We’ll have love.

  “You’ve convinced me,” Mr. Fink finally says.

  Isabella squeezes my hand and lets out a little squeal. I’ve never seen her like that. I look down at her hand.

  An idea floods my mind. “One second. Wait there. I’ll just be a moment.”

  I sprint up the stairs to my room, find what I’m looking for, and come back down. Mr. Fink has the papers on the table. Isabella holds the pen in her hand, light in her eyes.

  “Ready to sign, darling?” she asks.

  “Not just yet.” I smile back. I feel the most like a man I’ve ever felt. I get down on one knee and fish my mother’s engagement ring out of my pocket. It’s been in the family
for over a century. A beautiful cluster of diamonds in a gold band. “Isabella. The last time we did this was fake. Now this is real. Realer than anything I’ve known in my life. Isabella Price, will you be my wife?”

  She grins. “Do you really have to ask? Of course!”

  Chapter 30

  Isabella

  Two years later

  The city lights shine through our glass-walled apartment. The soft low glow of the lamplight is perfect. I want to sink into this feeling forever. In truth, we’ve been immersed in it. Sure, we’ve had our disagreements, but each time we have them, we draw back closer. Closer than ever.

  The angel investing is more fun than either of us had realized when we planned it. We’re supporting three businesses right here in Seattle—a teen girl running a company to make African-American dolls, a diabetic-friendly snacks company headed by a wonderful couple, and a real estate company constructing affordable housing. My father’s company is thriving. We wake up every morning, excited about what the day will bring. I’ve never felt that sense of team with anyone before. We’re not alone in the world anymore, either of us. We always say we’ve done that whole “alone” thing for too long. So whenever we argue, we’re quick to make up again. Life is so much more fun when it’s together.

  Nights like these are the best. We spent all day hearing about different American dolls and the owner’s distribution plan around Europe. Then we all ate Indian takeout, and Gray and I watched a mindless comedy that made us forget all about business. Play and rest are just as important as work, I’ve found.

  Gray kisses my neck as we make love. He pushes in and out of me. I was worried that the sex would lose its passion with time, but that worry was baseless. If anything, the more we get to know each other, the more beautiful it is. Sometimes I’m vulnerable, feeling like a princess being ravaged by her brave bold knight, and it feels like heaven. Other times, I sit on his cock, bouncing up and down, then thrusting forward and back, feeling it fill up my pussy and my heart. I come more than ever. Before Gray, I never used to come during sex, only when I played with my clit myself. But now? The orgasms come, wave after wave after wave, and all I can do is moan and scream and call his name and sometimes even cry with the pleasure.