The Pretend Fiancé: A Billionaire Love Story

by Lucy Lambert

  Apparently it also fell to her as the newcomer to dictate the direction of conversation. All the ladies watched her expectantly as they took sips from their tea. Tea which smelled delicious and inviting. Gwen bought herself some time by pouring herself a cupful from the pot sitting in the center of the table.

  She sipped at it, the bone china handle smooth and cool against her fingers. It was a black tea with a hint of something else. Jasmine, maybe.

  She set her cup down as gently as she could, aware that time had just about run out.

  What sort of thing do these people talk about? Gwen wondered, glancing at their polite smiles. Themselves, of course!

  She turned her attention to the woman introduced as Cordelia Astor. She was a stately thing, with a Roman nose and a pair of cheekbones to match.

  "So are you related to the New York Astors?" Gwen asked.

  "Yes, cousins of mine," Cordelia responded in her high class English accent that out-poshed even Ben's practiced tones.

  "I went to a party they hosted, once. It's actually the first place I met Aiden," Gwen said.

  "Oh, such garish displays, aren't they? So you are from New York, then?"

  Judith got that glint in her eye again, "Yes, she is."

  "That's wonderful!" Cordelia said, "Where? Does your family keep a summer home in the Hamptons? Perhaps I've already met them."

  Another trap, Gwen realized. "No, not the Hamptons. Or New York City. I live in the city now, but my family and I are from Albany."

  "Oh," Eleanor Smythe said, "Are you by chance a branch of the Brownings who own the firearms company?"

  "No relation."

  The society women lapsed into polite, if judgmental silence, sipping from their tea or considering another cucumber sandwich.

  Point Judith, Gwen thought. What was the score now? She couldn't remember.

  "Gwen's family history is, shall we say, unremarkable," Judith said, "Although I believe that she is trying to change that. Marrying my grandson does come with more than its fair share of advantages, does it not?" That garnered another round of judgmental glances. Point Judith.

  There it was. The gold digger thing again. Gwen shrank back against her chair. She wanted to leave. Wanted away from those eyes.

  And that was exactly what Judith wanted her to feel, she knew. She could see it in the way the old woman smiled as she dumped a lump of sugar into her tea and stirred slowly.

  It was a look that said, "See? You don't belong with these people. You don't fit in with them. Go on, give up and run away like I know you will."

  "Yes, I must say I was rather surprised when I learned that my Aiden had been courting her. She doesn't seem his type at all. Gwen, I believe you are between semesters at college, are you not?"

  "Well, it is summer break..." Gwen said.

  "Of course it is. And after you return and have finished school, have you given any thought as to how you want to direct your life?" Judith said.

  Four sets of eyes watched her, waiting for the answer. Gwen sat up straighter. "Well, with my degree, I could get a job at a museum, or maybe with an NGO?"

  "Is that a question or a statement?" Judith asked.

  "I've also thought about going to grad school afterward. I'd be the first person in my family with a Master's degree, and that would be cool..." Again, the wrong choice of words.

  Point Judith... Gwen started. Then she recanted. So far, she'd done everything on Judith's terms, played the game according to Judith's rules. Judith wanted to point out what a mismatch she thought Gwen and Aiden were, their differences and their divergences.

  That being the case, Gwen had some of her own observations to bring to bear.

  "Aiden and his father before him as well as my own husband all attended Harvard and graduated with highest honors," Judith began.

  "So I've heard," Gwen said, "But do you know what I haven't heard much about from your precious Aiden? You, Judith. Did you know he never mentioned you once until you showed up at the hotel a few days ago? And before that, in all the conversations I had with Henry, he never mentioned anything about you, either. I wonder why that is?"

  "You'll have to forgive dear Gwendolyn, I'm afraid. Her parents never bothered to instill any manners into her. Actually, I believe they are on course for a divorce in the near future. It really is a sad story of a broken family..."

  Gwen clapped her hands together, the sharp noise stopping all conversation in the room. "It's true, they are getting a divorce. But I'm getting to that. I think Aiden never mentioned you because he's embarrassed of you and what you represent. You're all about tradition and propriety and all that, but that just makes you closed-minded. Henry built Carbide Solutions from the ground up, Aiden is working to make it a the sort of company it deserves to be. Neither of them wanted anything from you, and I think you hate that. I think you can't stand it. Maybe if you got down off your high horse you'd see that Aiden and I are happy together and that you're trying to destroy a beautiful relationship out of spite and bitterness."

  Gwen fueled her monologue on a single breath, and when she finished she gulped for air. Her hands gripped the edge of the table, and an awful hot-cold mix of dread and anger sloshed around in the pit of her stomach.

  The whole time, Judith's angular face became redder and redder, her lips trying to press themselves out of existence until they became just a pencil line below her nose. Cordelia Astor hid her expression by slurping down her tea, and Claudia von Longlastname gaped at her.

  For a few seconds, Gwen thought that Judith's head might actually pop off her neck. Or maybe spontaneously combust. She didn't.

  Instead, she worked her lips until they assumed something that approached a smile, but reminded Gwen more of a shark-toothed grimace. The coloring in her face receded slowly down her neck until she looked just as pale and statuesque as before.

  "I am not the one trying to ruin Aiden's happiness. I believe you're doing a fine job of that by yourself," Judith said, her voice barely a whisper so that Gwen had to strain to hear it.

  "What's that supposed to mean?" Gwen said.

  "I believe you're familiar with a certain English reporter named Ben Somersby?" The forced smile on Judith's lips turned into one of satisfied cruelty.

  Gwen's heart stopped. A cold, wet blanket wrapped itself around her insides. Judith knows.

  "That was a mistake," Gwen said, her voice small.

  "We all have to pay for our mistakes, don't we?"

  The room froze. Time itself halted, leaving Gwen and Judith glaring at each other across the gulf of the table.

  "I'm still right about you," Gwen said, "You're miserable. And you're only doing this because you can. Aiden and I are getting through this, and we're getting married. No matter what you have to say about it."

  Judith lurched up from her chair and leaned over the table. "You are not marrying my grandson! Now get out!"

  Pressure built behind Gwen's eyes. She knew that she'd screwed up here. Screwed up badly. Probably worse than she ever had before. And now, like Judith said, she had to pay the price for her mistakes.

  Except the price for this was Aiden, and she could never give him up.

  But she refused to let Judith make her cry. She refused to get up and run out of there like some scared little girl.

  A memory came to here, then. A recollection of defiance. It was the first time she'd met Henry. She and Aiden sat with him over a meal he never intended them to eat while, like Judith, Henry accused her of only being in this for the money.

  Aiden had taken a bite of that cold steak in front of him and then took her away from there, dignity intact.

  So, rallying the vestiges of her tattered courage, Gwen picked up her teacup and drained the contents in a single swallow. Then she patted at her lips with her napkin, and stood without making the chair legs squeak against the floor.

  "Thank you for inviting me to tea, Judith. It was lovely meeting you, ladies."

  Then she turned her back on Judith's
glare and walked from the room, keeping her back stiff and concentrating on putting one foot down in front of the other.

  Everyone watched her go, the space completely devoid of all noise except for her steps.

  She kept her facade of confidence up until she left the manor and managed to hail a cab. She gave the driver the name of the hotel, and then buried her face in her hands, her body wracked by sobs as the car pulled away from that awful place.

  She knows about Ben, Gwen thought, and she's going to tell Aiden.

  ***

  Judith sat back down, letting her anger dissipate as she did. It was the signal for tea to resume, everyone at the separate tables turning back to the conversations. Right away, a footman swept in to clear Gwen's setting away.

  "Are you all right, dear?" Cordelia Astor said.

  "Yes, I am, thank you," Judith replied. She picked up her napkin and dabbed lightly at her mouth with it. All those harsh words chapped the lips so easily.

  "What a dreadful little girl," Claudia von Hildebrand said.

  "Indeed," Judith replied, replenishing her tea from the pot. The dark liquid steamed as it streamed from the spout. It wasn't even as good as the stuff as they had back at the hotel, but it would have to do for now.

  The high society ladies prattled on around Judith, talking about one unimportant social engagement or another. Gossip infected every class, it seemed. She was sure that the little scene that had just unfolded would be told and retold for the next six months at least. These people tended to have very little excitement or drama in their boring lives.

  In truth, Judith hated this sort of thing. The women were insufferable, the food bad, the atmosphere wanting. But they had all been necessary evils. All endured to get what she wanted.

  Although she'd gotten more than that. She hadn't expected that sort of vehemence from the girl, that sort of backbone. And the way she'd drunk that tea and wished us well at the end? Absolutely marvelous!

  Perhaps I shouldn't dismiss the girl so quickly after all, she thought. Still, there was that matter with that journalist, that walking British stereotype of suaveness and charm. Another necessary, if tasteless evil. She looked forward to seeing how Aiden, and their relationship, handled that little revelation.

  She interrupted Cordelia, "Tell the footman to bring more tea. This pot is getting cold! If there's one thing a person shouldn't have to suffer in this world, it's cold tea..." That, and conversations with the likes of Claudia von Hildebrand and Cordelia Astor. She kept that part to herself, though.

  Chapter 18

  Anxiety wracked Gwen so badly that she couldn't insert the keycard into the lock. Anxiety and nervous energy still working its way through her muscles due to her melodramatic escape from that tea room.

  The lip of the card kept sliding over the brushed metal receptacle, never going in.

  You have to tell him right away, she thought, you have to. Aiden was going to learn about Ben no matter what, and it would be better coming from her than Judith.

  She tried for the lock again. The card started entering, then started bending, then flew from the slot when she let go of it.

  Bending, Gwen reached for it. As she did, the door opened. She saw polished black shoes in the gap, dual tiny reflections staring back at her from Aiden's toes.

  "Aiden..." Gwen started before her heart could shoot up into her throat and cut her off.

  "Thank God!" Aiden said, grabbing her arm and hauling her inside. "Gwen, there's something I have to say."

  "Me first."

  "No, I need to, so please just listen. I know what's going on..."

  "You do?" Had Judith already gotten here? Had she made that butler bring Aiden a message while Gwen was out?

  "Yes. Please, listen. I want to be honest with you. Catherine was here again. I thought she wanted to take care of some more business catch-up. At least, I did until she came out of the bathroom in her underwear and sat on my lap..."

  "She what?"

  "I know how this sounds! Let me finish before you react. Nothing happened between us, nothing at all. You were right about her and I was wrong. She liked me, but that's over now. We spoke, that was it. However, she told me about your contracts. I know that's what you've been hiding from me. Judith made you agree to something else, and you couldn't tell me. I know now, and it's okay."

  Gwen didn't know what to say, what to think. She trusted him on what he said about Catherine. But that just exacerbated her guilt regarding Ben. He thought he knew why she'd been behaving like this; however, he only knew part of it. And not even the worst part.

  She had to tell him. "Aiden..."

  "It's okay, I know now. It's okay. That whole thing with Catherine made me remember how much I love you, and how much I want to be with you. So let's just be together, you and me, okay?"

  "Aiden, I..."

  "No. No more talking. There's been too much talking over the past few days. So shut up and kiss me."

  He kissed her, then, putting a hand on the back of her head and pulling it towards him. Her body responded instantly to the raw power of his desire. The rational part of her, dwindling rapidly, knew that she needed to tell him. However, the rest of her knew that they both needed this even more.

  So her resistance faltered and she gave herself to him.

  Her body burned for him. Burned as he ran his hands down her shoulder, down her back, down to her bottom. His fingers dug into her flesh, pulling her hips against his so that she could feel him.

  His fingers didn't relent, and she didn't want them to. He touched her as though he'd been denied her company a lifetime.

  "Aiden..." she said breathlessly. This time she didn't say his name to tell him about Ben. She'd already forgotten about Ben. No, this time her voice was a plea, begging him to take her, to be with her.

  He answered her by kissing her neck, letting her feel his teeth run along her skin. He bit down, gently at first. His own passion urged him on, urged him past rational thought so that only the hunger for her body remained. He bit down harder and she gasped.

  He bit until it hurt, and still she begged him for more. The pain was good. The desire was better. They mingled as their bodies mingled.

  "You drive me crazy," Aiden said, leaving her neck red and tender where he'd pressed his teeth into it. "I can never stop thinking about you..."

  He spun her around so that her back pressed against his body. His words etched themselves into her thoughts, into her being. His trembling fingers pulled her shirt up, exposing her midriff. His palm pressed over her navel, his skin unbelievably hot against hers.

  He kissed her neck again, running his lips up so that his breath washed over her ear. When he spoke, a shiver a desire ran down her spine and gooseflesh speckled every inch of her skin.

  "Just the thought of touching you is enough to send me over the edge," he said. His fingers started tracing slow circles on her stomach. The tingles from it went all the way through her, and she pressed herself back against him.

  His other hand went down her thigh, his fingertips pressing into the thin layer of denim. And then it started back up again, not stopping until it reached her breasts. He squeezed and kneaded her, his desire lending his grip strength that had her moaning and quivering against him.

  "And then I think of how warm you always are for me..." he said, his deep voice resonating in her chest.

  He stopped running his fingers in circles on her bare stomach, instead reached down and popping the zipper on her jeans.

  "Aiden... Touch me..." Gwen said, letting her head fall back against his shoulder. His fingers started their circling again, lower this time. They kept brushing against the elastic of her panties.

  His lips found her neck again, his mouth hot, so hot against her.

  "Please, baby," she said. She couldn't stop thinking about the heat, about the way she flushed with the desire to feel his touch.

  An ache opened up inside her, deepening with every teasing revolution of his fingers that were oh
so very close.

  Their hotel suite became too hot to bear. It was like someone had lit a bonfire right in front of her, and Aiden held her trapped next to the scorching flames that threatened to come out and caress her skin.

  "There's never a moment when I don't want to be touching you," Aiden said, his voice insistent, "There's no one I'd rather be close with than you..."

  She couldn't respond anymore. He'd brought her too close to the edge. She was beyond words.

  His fingertips dipped below the waistband of her panties, then slipped out. Then went in again, lower this time. And then again. Until finally even Aiden couldn't keep the pretense anymore.

  Her breath caught in her chest as he found the source of all that heat.

  Neither of them could hold back at all past that point. There was no way they could make it upstairs to the bed, or even over to the couch.

  They needed each other right then, that very moment. They didn't even manage to get all of their clothes off. Just enough for their own lusty purposes.

  Aiden pushed her down against the table, the polished surface shockingly cold against her bare chest and stomach. The sensation invigorated her, brought her even deeper into the moment.

  He savaged her body, still unable to hold anything back. When her climax came, it knotted every muscle in her so that she arched up off the table. His hungry mouth kissed her back, ran across her shoulder blades, and tasted her glistening sweat.

  Aiden transfixed her in a moment of pure pleasure and ecstasy, and she screamed out not caring if anyone might hear.

  He had her body under his command, and he used it like she wanted him to use it. He gave her what she wanted and needed from him until even he couldn't hold back any longer, that moment of his own ultimate pleasure placing his body under her control, if only for those few moments.

  And she made sure they counted.

  The ache he left her with would last days, she knew. However, she cherished that ache, because she also knew that it was indisputable physical proof of the strength of his feelings for him.