by Emily Bishop
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.
I love the way he watches me when we fuck. He cares so deeply about my pleasure.
He maneuvers so I’m splayed out on my back. He’s turned on his side, under my left thigh. He pushes his cock in deep, and I moan. But it’s not just his big hard dick that turns me on. It’s how he’s looking at me, searching for my pleasure, reveling in it. I thrust myself down onto his cock and smile and laugh and moan all at once. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!” in rhythm as he thrusts. His smile is everything I’ve ever wanted to see. Proud and glad and manly and powerful. His eyes don’t want to own me, to dominate me, like they did when we first fucked. That was hot, but this is so much hotter. His eyes tell a different story. A story that he accepts me in all my glory and in all my imperfections. A story that he cares about my happiness more than anything in the world.
His big cock fills my cunt so perfectly. Being in the arms of this big strong man brings a pleasure I never knew even existed.
“Do you like it?” he says with a grin, mid-thrust, knowing perfectly well that I do.
But we play our little game. I stop the movement on his cock. It still feels huge inside me, and when I tighten my cunt, I shiver with the pleasure. But I love this game. “Oh, it’s OK,” I say breezily.
Then he pulls his cock out slowly. “Oh, all right. Let’s stop then.” He pulls it out until just the tip is rubbing against my pussy lips.
I moan. I want it back inside me so badly.
“Let’s do something else,” he teases. “Watch TV. Make scrambled eggs. I’m not really in the mood for sex anymore.” His eyes dance.
“Go back in.”
“Back in where?” He pretends to look confused.
“Inside me.”
“Oh, OK.” He pauses for one delicious, tantalizing moment. I know what’s coming. He grins at me, then looks down at my pussy. “Are you sure?”
“Yes!” I moan.
“Right.” He grabs my shoulder, then in one swift movement, he plunges his huge hard cock deep inside my cunt.
“Yes!” Wave after wave of pleasure mounts and mounts, until I can do nothing but explode into ecstasy and scream.
“Yes…” He matches me. I feel his cock harden even more inside me. He grips me and pushes and shudders and grunts like a beast as he comes inside me. I come and come and come all the while, moaning and screaming and whimpering with the pleasure.
Then we clutch each other. The pleasure fades beautifully, like the most gorgeous symphony in the world coming to its natural end.
“I love you,” he whispers into my ear, full of desperate passion.
“Me more,” I reply.
We lie there, enraptured by the memory of our ecstasy for a moment. After a few minutes, I turn to him. “Gray, I hope you don’t feel nostalgic for your boyhood summers in the mansion, now that we’ve given it to the National Trust.”
He turns to me with a bemused smile. “That was so random.”
I grin as I get up. I put my silky robe around me. “Not so random.”
He sits up in bed. “Huh?”
“Well, I was wondering how you would feel about bringing up a child in a luxury Seattle apartment, instead of a rambling English country estate.”
“I think they’d have a wonderful life, because they would have parents who adore them.”
I stare at him, waiting for him to understand what I’m trying to tell him.
“But why do you ask now?” he says. “We’ve talked about this loads.”
I go to the bathroom and return
with a huge smile. I go over to where he is on the bed. He swings his legs around to sitting and cups my ass in his hands. I’ve always been self-conscious about my ass—I think it’s too big—but he says that’s nonsense and he adores it. It’s one of my sexiest features, he says.
“Put your hand in my pocket,” I say.
He looks confused but does so. He fishes the stick out of the pocket and frowns at it for a moment. Then realization floods his face, and his eyes light up with joy. “This is what I think it is?”
I grin. “Depends what you think it is, babe.”
“A positive pregnancy test!”
I laugh. “Yes!”
He jumps off the bed and whisks me off my feet and into his arms. He twirls me around until I’m dizzy. “We’re having a baby! We’re having a baby!”
I can’t stop laughing. “Yes, we are!”
He pauses his spinning and looks at me like I’m the most precious person who ever walked the earth. “Thank you,” he says, with a huge, passionate breath. “Thank you for changing my life.”
I squeeze tightly around his neck as tears of joy spill down my cheeks. “Thank you for changing mine.”
Praise for Her Baby Daddy
“Her Baby Daddy is sexy as hell, full of twists and turns, explosive chemistry, and a HEA! This is one book you won’t want to put down!”
“Emily has done it again!! Her Baby Daddy is simply captivating.”
“Possession is the name of the game in Emily Bishop’s newest sexy tale! 5 stars over and over again!”
181 Amazon Reviews - 4.7 Stars
Riley doesn’t take shit from anyone.
And I can’t take my eyes of her.
Her studio is on the chopping block and I’m the butcher.
Walking in on Riley pole dancing made me want to make her my main course.
Her confidence is enough to make me go ape shit.
One sway of those hips made me hers.
She needs a place to live and my house is perfect.
Until I find out who her best friend is.
I didn’t become wealthy by quitting. No way I’m running away.
Money and power used to be the only thing that excited me.
