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I Married a Billionaire

Page 15

by Melanie Marchande


  "Of course you can stay here," he said. "Maddy can move her art supplies out of the big spare room….no, no, don't worry about it, it's no problem."

  After they'd finalized their plans and said their goodbyes, I stood up and headed into the kitchen. Daniel shoved the phone back in his pocket.

  "Well," he said. "I guess we'd better delay things until she's gone home, at least."

  "See," I said. "This is the kind of thing I'm talking about."

  He shrugged. "If you'd already moved out, I just would have told her you were away at an…art conference." He pulled a beer out of the fridge. "That's a thing that exists, isn't it?"

  "With all my clothes and personal belongings?" I countered.

  "And the place is being sprayed for cockroaches, so she can't come over."

  "Sure, there's no way she'll get suspicious."

  "We can talk about this after she leaves," he said, meaningfully, prying the lid off his beer and tossing it into the trash can. From his tone, it was quite clear he wasn't really open to further negotiations.

  Well. We'd see about that.

  -

  Lindsey arrived on Friday evening, all smiles and sass like usual. She hugged me tightly, then promptly took us out to a late dinner and bought us enough drinks that we were actually able to act like a couple again.

  Daniel retired to bed early, leaving me and Lindsey sitting on the sofa, quietly chit-chatting about everything that came to mind. She'd managed to land another big client who was even more insufferable than the last, so we chuckled over her stories for a while as the clock ticked quietly in the background.

  After a silence, she switched gears.

  "Is everything going okay between you two?"

  I hesitated. Obviously, we weren't pretending as well as I'd thought. "I guess so," I said, although nothing could be further from the truth. "It's just tough right now. I'm not really sure why."

  "Danny tends to bring his work stress home with him," Lindsey said, stretching her legs out in front of her. "He has trouble letting it go. I'm sure that's not easy for you."

  "Yeah," I said, vaguely, hugging my knees to my chest. The urge to be honest with her was almost overwhelming me. It was welling up in my throat. But I couldn't. I knew I couldn't.

  "Hey, are you hungry?" Lindsey glanced up at the clock. "Jesus. It's been ages since dinner. No wonder. I think I'm going to order a pizza, you want any?"

  "Sure, I guess. Any kind. I'm not picky." I played with a loose thread on my shirt while Lindsey made her phone call. I was trying to think of a way I could get advice from her without actually being honest about what was going on. The opportunity to get her unique perspective on Daniel's behavior was just too tempting.

  When she sat back down, I had something prepared.

  "Do you ever feel like Daniel's sort of…distant?"

  "Oh, all the time," Lindsey replied. "He's just trying to protect himself - I don't know why, but I always figured he let his guard down around you."

  "Maybe not as much as I thought," I admitted. "Sometimes it's like I just can't read him. I have no idea what he wants from me."

  Lindsey was nodding, slowly. "It's not easy," she said. "I wish I had a simple answer for you, but even I can't get him to open up, most of the time. He has to get there on his own. Most people do, really." She looked off into the distance, thoughtfully. "He's a tough nut to crack, that one."

  The buzzer went off.

  "Well, that was fast," Lindsey said, getting to her feet. "Somebody's getting an extra good tip."

  She flung the door open.

  A voice came into the room from the hallway:

  "Where is he?"

  My heart dropped into my stomach.

  Florence stormed into the room, unkempt and rain-drenched, dripping all over the floor. I must have stared at her like a deer in the headlights. Even knowing what I now knew about her, I still couldn't quite reconcile the sight of her, unhinged like this, with the woman I'd known.

  "Who the fuck are you?" Lindsey demanded, looking like she wasn't sure whether to laugh at her, or punch her in the stomach.

  Florence was already charging towards the staircase. Lindsey ran after her, grabbing her arm and dragging her back. "Whoa, whoa, whoa there, crazy. Just where exactly do you think you're going?"

  Florence fought and twisted, her eyes dangerously wild. "I have to talk to him," she insisted. "I have to talk to Daniel. He'll want to see me."

  "Maddy, call the cops." Lindsey was maintaining a vice grip. "I don't think Danny needs to talk to you, honey."

  "DANIEL!" Flo shrieked, loud enough to make me flinch. The bedroom door popped open a few moments later.

  The look on his face was priceless.

  He thundered down the stairs, wearing just his pajama pants, but still managing to look incredibly threatening. I actually took a step back as he reached the main floor, snatching Flo's arm away from his sister's grasp and staring her down.

  "What are you doing here?" he snarled, his chest rising and falling quickly with every breath.

  "I just needed to see you," said Flo, very sweetly, her attitude completely changed. "Your friend here let me right in."

  "I'm his sister," said Lindsey, frostily. "And I was expecting a pizza."

  Flo was giving him the puppy-dog face; it made me feel vaguely sick to my stomach. "I just want to talk to you, Dan. Please. Don't make me do something I'll regret."

  Daniel's jaw twitched. "I'm not afraid of you," he said.

  "Oh, really?" Flo's eyes flickered to Lindsey. "Does she already know?"

  "There's nothing to know," said Daniel, through clenched teeth.

  "Sure, I guess you're right," Florence replied, still looking at Lindsey. "Assuming you're aware that his marriage is a fake."

  Lindsey closed her eyes for a minute, letting out a long, deep sigh.

  "Of course I know," she said. "I'm his big sister, you lunatic."

  Now, everyone in the room was staring at her.

  "We can talk about all that later," said Lindsey, with a dismissive gesture. "The important thing is, are you going to get the fuck out of here and leave him alone for the rest of your natural life? Because if not, you're going to buy yourself a world of hurt."

  "Fine," Florence spat. Daniel let her go, roughly, and she slunk towards the door. "I hope you're very happy together."

  And with that, she was gone.

  Lindsey slammed and locked the door behind her.

  "Unbelievable," she said.

  "Why didn't you tell me?" Daniel demanded, walking towards her. "It would have saved everyone a lot of trouble."

  "I don't know," Lindsey replied, indignant. "Does it matter? You're the one with the fake fucking marriage, little brother."

  "I can't believe you," said Daniel, but there was no real hostility in his voice.

  "I can't believe you," she countered. "Lying to your own sister. You should know by now that it never works. Anybody with half a brain can put the pieces together."

  "Well, for your information, I've got my citizenship now."

  "Good for you. You can fool the government, but you can't fool me. Just keep that in mind, okay?"

  She turned and began walking towards her room, but stopped halfway there and turned to look at both of us.

  "Oh - by the way - you two realize you're really in love with each other, right?"

  After she shut the guest room door behind her, Daniel turned to me. "Ignore her," he said. "She's just trying to obnoxious."

  I stared at him. "That's what you feel compelled to comment on? Really?"

  "What else is there to say?"

  I didn't actually have an answer for him.

  The buzzer went off again.

  "That's got to be the pizza, this time," I said.

  Daniel looked through the peep-hole carefully before he opened the door.

  Once the pizza was paid for, he dropped it on the coffee table and sat down, opening the box and reaching for a slice. "Lindsey
won't mind, as long as we leave some for her," he said.

  "Stress eating?" I teased, taking a slice for myself.

  "No," he replied, indignantly, around a mouthful of cheese.

  To this day, I'll never know what possessed me to say the next thing that popped out of my mouth.

  "You know, the last time we had pizza together it didn't really end well."

  "I'm aware," he said, drily.

  We both chewed in silence for a moment.

  "I know this doesn't mean much now," he said, "but if I had the chance to start over with this, I'd do things differently."

  "And marry someone else?" I suggested. He didn't say no - but he didn't say yes, either.

  "I let the whole thing go to my head," he said, after a while. "I actually thought…"

  My fingers tightened around the pizza crust I was holding. "You actually thought…?" I prompted.

  He shook his head. "No - no, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. I've put you in enough unenviable situations as it is."

  "Hey," I said, gently. "I've had a great time, being your wife." I thought of the interview, and our fight. "Well…most of the time."

  He laughed a little. "That's very kind of you to say."

  "I don't just want to walk away from it prematurely," I went on. "I mean, you know…in case something else comes up."

  He shut his eyes for a moment, and then spoke again. "I'm sorry I called you selfish," he said. "I'm the selfish one. I have been from the beginning. You've been very sweet, and kind, and tolerant of the most awkward situation possible. I appreciate everything you've done. I really do. But Maddy-" he hesitated, and took a deep breath. "I can't be around you anymore."

  My pulse was thumping deafeningly in my ears. "Why not?"

  "Do I really have to spell it out for you?" He looked at me, a little disbelieving.

  "I'd really appreciate it," I said, my voice sounding very distant.

  "I like you," he said, simply. "That's all. Better than anyone I've ever really dated. I thought it would be all right, at first - lend an air of authenticity to the whole thing. Couldn't possibly hurt for me to be little bit smitten, could it?"

  I pinched myself.

  "Ow," I said.

  He stared at me. "Did you just pinch yourself?"

  "No," I said. "Are you being serious right now?"

  "Of course I am," he said, gently. "I'm sorry, I thought it was obvious."

  "It was….not," I said. "Obvious. Not at all."

  "Well," he said. "This is awkward."

  I laughed. I had to.

  "So, what…you thought I knew, and I was just toying with your emotions to get in your pants?"

  "It doesn't sound very sensible," he said slowly, "when you put it like that."

  "It doesn’t sound very sensible no matter what," I said. "Why on earth would you be so paranoid?"

  "Wait, wait," he said. "So if you weren't toying with me - what, then?"

  My throat constricted. "What do you mean?"

  "Do you…are you…"

  I'd never seen him at such a complete loss for words before. "Relax," I said, finally, putting him out of his misery. "I…I like you, too."

  Being perfectly honest, the word "like" didn't even begin to cover it. But I wasn't going to let myself go there. Not just yet.

  "Maddy..." He looked at me with an expression that was some strange mix of hope and trepidation, mixed with relief, mixed with…

  "Hey," I said. "Let's not get too carried away. We've known each other for what…eight months?"

  "And yet, you're my wife."

  Such simple words, coming out of his mouth - but suddenly, they took on a whole new meaning.

  "I know," I said. "But all the same."

  "All the same," he agreed, his shoulders relaxing a little.

  I leaned back on the sofa and rested against him, letting his arm drape over my shoulders. Just like a real couple. And for once, that thought didn't come with a side of heartache.

  "Oh - Maddy?" he said, after a long silence.

  I stirred. "Yeah?"

  "Please don't tell my sister," he said. "She'll never shut up about being right."

  The guest room door popped open. "I heard that, you jackass."

  Epilogue

  I woke up slowly, to the sun peeking in through the blinds. Stirring in bed, I realized I was wrapped up in a tight embrace.

  "Good morning," Daniel murmured in my ear. I smiled, slowly.

  "G'morning," I managed, as he pressed soft, insistent kisses on the side of my face. I rolled over to face him, not even protesting when he kissed me on the mouth - that was a fight I'd given up long ago, once I was confident that when he said he didn't care about my morning breath, he really, really meant it.

  The scarlet rope was still coiled up on the floor where we'd left it, after last night's activities. Over time, it had grown more smooth and supple, curling around my body like a second skin. I remembered how it had made me feel, mere hours before - how hehad made me feel - and I shivered against the heat of his skin.

  His fingers drifted along my body with a feather-light touch, igniting a slow fire deep inside. I was still sore from last night, but apparently I hadn't gotten enough. I made a quiet, encouraging hmmm as his hand dipped lower.

  I thought he'd known just how to touch me the first time we were together, but he'd only gotten better at reading my body and giving me what I wanted, often before I even knew what it was.

  His fingers slipped between my folds, teasing me. Testing me.

  I slid my leg up over his hip, spreading myself open. He smiled, and I felt his hardness nudge against me. I was still sleepy, but my body was wide awake and ready. I tilted my head back as he slid into me - agonizingly slow, but so perfectly satisfying.

  He filled me up just the same as he'd always done, but the feeling of skin on skin was still new, still intoxicating. I rolled my hips with his movements. He reached down to caress me, his fingers rubbing slow circles just where I needed them. I let out a small noise, my eyelids going heavy. He'd hit the sweet spot, and he knew it. He was watching my expressions carefully, our faces so close that our noses were almost touching.

  Sometimes we played games - ropes and handcuffs, pretending to be people that we weren't. Sometimes he would bring me to the edge and then pull me back, again and again, just to assert himself, to remind me that I could control my own body if he demanded it of me. And I had grown to love those games. As frustrating as they could be, they comforting. Dependable. Intimate.

  But sometimes, there were no games.

  Sometimes it was just us, with no artifice. No mitigations or apologies. I wouldn't necessarily say that I preferred one way to the other, but it was awfully nice to have both.

  This morning, it was just us.

  He was my husband, not my billionaire boss who'd once tried to buy a year of my life. That was our past. Until recently, our future had been unsure. But now, it was clear there was no longer any need for a contract to keep us together.

  I melted into his touch, breathless and quivering in his arms. I'd never understood how he could reduce me to this with just the slow, steady rhythm of his hand - but I certainly wasn't about to complain.

  Then, just like that, I shattered. Somewhere in the midst of the mind-numbing pleasure, I felt him thrust deep inside me, one last time, his open mouth connecting with my shoulder, teeth sinking in just far enough to leave a red mark.

  When I blinked back to life, Daniel was smiling and stroking my hair. He kissed the tip of my nose, and I made a face.

  "Happy anniversary," he said, his voice still gravelly from sleep.

  I grinned. "Has it been a year already?"

  "I know," he replied, lightly grabbing a handful of my hair. "It's a shame, isn't it? I don't own you anymore."

  "We'll just have your lawyer draft up something new," I said.

  He chuckled, pulling me close and kissing my forehead.

  "I love you, sweetheart."
r />   "I love you too," I muttered, against his chest.

  I closed my eyes, and just breathed.

  -

  Melanie Marchande is a young writer who loves creating fun, flirty, and occasionally steamy stories about two people realizing they just can't live without each other. If you'd like to read more from her, please leave a review letting her know what you liked about the book so she knows what to write next! You can also connect with her online:

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