Four Simple Words: A Badass and the Billionaires Contemporary Romance (The Sisters Quartet Book 4)

by Mary J. Williams

  Liam parked in front of the Benedict mansion. They had sex one time, and she managed to erase every other woman from his memory. The reason wasn't hard to figure out. He always wanted most what he couldn't have. Right now, he couldn't have Destry, and the unfamiliar feeling left him off-balance. When he finally had his fill, her allure would wane, and he would regain his equilibrium.

  Soon, he promised himself, his life would be back to normal.

  Destry greeted him at the door. Taking his hand, she pulled him inside. She smiled and seemed okay. But, he sensed something was wrong.

  "What happened?"

  "Nothing."

  Her feet bare, she had to tilt her head a little further than usual to look him in the face. When her normally direct gaze didn't reach his eyes, Liam knew she wasn't herself.

  "Destry. Talk to me."

  "You're early. I think Adam is around somewhere. I'll ask him to keep you company while I get ready."

  "Stop." Liam cupped her chin. "Look at me."

  Finally, Destry's eyes raised to his. He could see unfamiliar unrest lurking behind her normally clear, caramel-brown irises, a swirling emotion he couldn't quite identify. Whatever the problem, she wasn't as in control as usual.

  "Did something happen with one of your sisters?"

  Stupid question. If Andi, Calder, or Bryce were in trouble, Destry would be beyond angry. She would take action, not go on about how early he was or how she needed to get ready.

  Destry wrapped her arms around Liam, sinking in. The move was so unlike her, almost a surrender, his level of worry escalated.

  "Is someone sick? In trouble? In jail?" The last suggestion was meant as a joke. When her frown deepened, and she burrowed closer, he wondered if he'd hit the not-so-funny nail on the head. "Your father? Was he arrested?"

  "Not unless you heard something I haven't."

  Destry took a deep breath. She stepped back, but Liam, unwilling to let her go completely, held onto her hand. He felt a strange sense of victory when she didn't pull away.

  "You don't need bail money." Destry's lips curved up—ever so slightly. Enough to make Liam feel a bit better. "Ask me for a favor, there isn't much I wouldn't do—in a heartbeat. However, if you need someone to break your dad out, you'll have to look somewhere else. A slight bend of the law, I'm your man. However, I draw the line at a blatant, full-fledged felony."

  Slowly, Destry's smile widened—just a bit.

  "For once, I almost wish Miller were my problem." Shaking her head, she ran her free hand through her hair. "Sorry. Between my father and Billie, family drama is in my DNA. I've learned to roll with the punches. Today, my normally quick reflexes are a bit sluggish."

  He led her to the small settee. Liam sat next to her, their knees touching.

  "Are your sisters out? I know you feel better after you talk things over with them."

  "How do you know?"

  "Anyone with eyes can see how close you are. Plus, you mention them all the time."

  "Guess I'm not as much of an enigma as I thought."

  Destry let out a long sigh, but the little twinkle in her eyes made Liam smile.

  "Don't worry. Something tells me I could know you for a thousand years and you'd still be full of surprises."

  "A thousand years?" Destry scoffed at the idea. "I've yet to meet a man who can take me for longer than a week. FYI? I'm a bit much, even in small doses. Today's a perfect example. You show up with date five on your mind, and I put a damper on the whole sexy vibe."

  "Nothing could dampen your sex appeal."

  Liam wanted to groan. The last time he dropped such a cheesy line on a woman…? He struggled to remember. Back in his cocky teenage days when he still thought he was God's gift to women. He was still cocky, but less sure God had anything to do with his appeal. The big guy had better things to do than worry about one man's love life.

  Cheesy or not, Destry didn't seem to mind.

  "You're sweet. A liar, but sweet." She squeezed his hand. "I did speak to my sisters. As a result, I managed to put a rather moldy cherry on the top of their otherwise normal day. Last time I looked, they sought solace with their men."

  "Sounds disgusting. The moldy cherry part, not the solace."

  "You have no idea."

  "Help me understand." Liam slid his arm around her. "My comforting skills are a bit rusty. Still, I can listen. Unless the details are too personal."

  "A different perspective would be nice…" Destry hesitated. "Maybe I should wait until after we have sex. When you hear what I have to say, you might head for the hills and never look back. I wouldn't blame you."

  "Since I'm firmly in the, I have to get you into bed or life won't be worth living zone, you couldn't budge me with a stick of dynamite."

  Destry rested her head on his shoulder.

  "You haven't met my mother."

  "Somehow, the pleasure has eluded me."

  "Eluded you." She snorted. "I love when you sound all Irish."

  "I am Irish."

  "At times, you almost sound like a native New Yorker. Others, like just now, your accent gets more pronounced—very leprechauny."

  "Leprechauny?" Liam rolled his eyes. "Like the Lucky Charms character? Thanks a lot."

  "I had quite the crush—when I was six." She patted his leg. "My taste in men has matured since then."

  "Good to know." Damn, she was cute. "About your mother?"

  "Right. Where to begin. Did I tell you she's pregnant?"

  Liam listened as Destry explained the complex, some might say convoluted, history of her family. Misogynistic didn't begin to describe the antiquated thinking of her great-grandfather. Only a male heir could inherit the Benedict fortune? Unbelievable.

  "In Billie's case, the terms of the will turned out to be a blessing. Especially now. The only buffer between the family fortune and the man she's stupidly involved with is her unborn child."

  "A boy." Liam still couldn't wrap his head around the idea. "How do you and your sisters feel about your future brother?"

  "Once the shock wore off? We can't wait to meet him." Absently, Destry toyed with the button on his suit jacket. "Trouble is, his parents think of him as a pawn to be used and manipulated, not a blessed son to be loved and protected."

  "What if you're wrong?"

  "I'm not."

  Liam didn't doubt Destry's concerns were legitimate. She didn't strike him as someone to overreact about something so important. But, his perspective wasn't colored by years of Benedict family drama.

  "Your mother might surprise you."

  "Billie doesn't care about the baby, Liam. To her, he's a way to hold onto a man. And all her baby daddy cares about is the money. If left with them to guide him, my brother doesn't stand a chance."

  "He'll have you. Plus, Andi, Calder, and Bryce."

  "Yes, he will. And we plan to do our level best." Destry's hand formed a fist. "But you don't know Ingo Hunter. Or maybe you do. The business world can be pretty small."

  Liam shook his head as wave after wave of shock pounded his body.

  "We met once, a long time ago." Not long enough. "I haven't seen him in years."

  "Lucky you. The man is poison. Rotten to the core." She shuddered. "He wormed his way into our lives and worse, Billie let him. We were certain, with the right information, we could stop our mother before they marry. Hunter would still be the baby's father, but at least he'd be out of the house and out of our day-to-day lives. With a little leverage, we could limit how much time he spent with our brother."

  Numb, Liam nodded. Ingo Hunter? Son of a bitch.

  "After my conversation with her today, I'm afraid nothing we could tell Billie will make a difference. She sees him as her last chance man. He sees her as the way to regain his fortune." Anger dripped from Destry's every word. "They deserve each other. But, money be damned, my brother is innocent."

  Liam tried to gather his scattered thoughts. He had to say s
omething, but he couldn't make himself form a coherent thought.

  "Destry. I—"

  "What have we here? Destry and her latest lover? How sweet."

  "Speak of the devil."

  Liam felt Destry's body stiffen as he raised his head and looked into the eyes of Ingo Hunter. Tense, he waited for something, a flicker of recognition in the depths of the man's obsidian gaze. Nothing. Hunter dismissed him with barely a glance. The bastard.

  Hunter took a step and swayed. Reaching, he grabbed a small table to his right. A vase filled with flowers tipped as if headed for the floor but righted itself at the last second.

  Destry's lip curled into a sneer.

  "You're drunk."

  "And you're beautiful." Hunter managed to slur his words and leer at the same time. "However, I take exception to the term drunk. Pleasantly lubricated is more accurate. Needed a little something before I could face your mother's incessant whining again."

  "The devoted father to be."

  The sarcasm in Destry's tone sailed over Hunter's head.

  "Damn straight, little girl. Damn straight."

  "All for the love of money."

  Eyes half closed, Hunter sniggered. "By the time Billie pops out the little bastard, I'll have earned every cent."

  As Hunter staggered down the hall toward the library, Liam jumped to his feet, ready to put the scum and everyone in his orbit, out of their misery. Destry grabbed his arm, shaking her head.

  "I get the impulse, believe me. But he'll press charges and one punch, no matter how satisfying, isn't worth a night in jail."

  "I disagree." Liam's attempt to breathe and calm his anger didn't help. But Destry's soothing touch did—a little. He met her gaze. "And who said anything about one punch? If I have to face the cops, I should get my money's worth first."

  "Forget Ingo Hunter."

  "If only I could," Liam muttered more to himself than to Destry.

  "Think about me." One arm around his waist, she raised her free hand and threaded her fingers through his hair. "We have a date, remember? Number five."

  "Oh, I remember." Liam rested his forehead against hers and sighed. "But not tonight."

  "Why not?"

  "You're still upset." And so was he. "When I get you into bed, I want your mind on nothing but me."

  "By the time we eat, and flirt, and down a glass or two of wine…" She kissed his cheek, then his jaw. "I'll be all yours."

  "If you need alcohol to get in the mood, I'm out. I need all your senses booze free and focused on me." Liam lifted Destry's hand to his lips. "Spend tonight with your sisters. Talk, giggle, have a pillow fight. Whatever you do when you're alone."

  "We haven't had a pillow fight in years."

  "Hey, don't kill the fantasy."

  Liam hated to leave her. But he had to go before he said something he'd regret, before he spilled the beans that weren't entirely his to spill.

  Destry walked him to the door, unaware of Liam's thoughts. If she knew, he was afraid the gratitude and warmth in her eyes would quickly turn to distrust and anger.

  "Thank you for listening. And understanding."

  "I'll call you tomorrow."

  Liam meant for the kiss to be brief. But the second his lips touched hers, he couldn't stop with one taste. What if, after Destry discovered his secret, she never wanted to see him again? What if he was never again allowed to hold her in his arms or feel her body pressed to his?

  If tonight was the end, he was determined to make this time—the last time—count.

  The sound of Destry's sighed pleasure spurred Liam on. He pulled her closer as his hands roamed over her delicious curves, memorizing every inch.

  "Are you sure you want to leave?" Destry asked, her lips parted and slightly swollen.

  With more willpower than he realized he possessed, Liam stepped away. Already, his arms felt empty.

  "Don't tempt me."

  "If our last kiss didn't do the trick, nothing will."

  Last kiss. Lord, he hoped not. Liam cupped her cheek, letting his thumb lightly trace her smiling lips.

  "Goodbye, Destry."

  His hand dropped to his side, and before he could change his mind, he closed the door behind him.

  Liam didn't remember the drive to his apartment. He arrived without incident, took the ramp down to the underground parking garage, and tossed his keys to the valet.

  One of the perks of owning the building was his own private express elevator. He rode to the top floor as he mapped out his next move. He had two choices. Forget Destry. Or, come clean and suffer the consequences.

  Liam took a beer from the refrigerator, twisting off the top.

  Even if he were willing to let her go, she deserved to know the truth. If not for the hand of fate, or whatever brought them together, he might never have learned how the events he helped set in motion years earlier had come to affect Destry and her family.

  But Liam did know. And because he cared about her more than he could have anticipated, his choices dwindled to only one.

  Picking up his phone, he walked onto the balcony and hit speed dial.

  "Liam, my man." The voice was familiar and welcoming. "Ready for another vacation already? The fish are still jumping any time you're ready."

  "Next year. Save my spot."

  "Always open whenever you need to get away. What's up?"

  "We have a problem, Trey."

  "Not the first time," Trey quipped. His tone turned serious. "You know I can handle whatever you need to say."

  Trey was right. Once, at the first hint of trouble, his friend would have fallen to pieces, retreated into himself, or worse. But he wasn't the same pale, sickly, easily bullied introvert Liam once knew. He'd grown strong, in body and mind.

  Trey faced his demons, but from a distance. The time had come to meet the devil head-on.

  "Jesus, Liam. Say something, or I'll think the world is about to come to an end."

  "In a way, you're right. I saw your father tonight." Liam soothed his dry throat with a gulp of beer and hoped his friend was ready. "We've pissed around long enough, Trey. Time to put an end to Ingo Hunter. Once and for all."

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  ~~~~

  THE BACKYARD GARDEN was an oasis in the middle of Manhattan's concrete and steel. Destry remembered as a little girl she eagerly begged to help pick tomatoes. Easily bored, after a few minutes, she would squish the ripe fruit between her fingers and giggle as the juicy red flesh oozed between her fingers. Mrs. Finch would simply shake her head and turn on the hose. They both ended up wet and laughing.

  "Mrs. F. had the patience of Job," Destry said as she took a sip of lemonade.

  Next to her on the deck, Andi, Calder, and Bryce lounged in the shade of a huge yellow umbrella. Summer was almost over, and with the weather so unpredictable, they wanted to take advantage of the warm September day.

  "I don't know how she managed. Four rambunctious girls who never sat still?" Calder laughed. "You'd think we would have worn the poor woman out years ago."

  "Please. Mrs. F. has more energy than all of us combined." Andi smoothed a layer of sunscreen over her arms. "But I'm glad she finally agreed to hire an assistant cook/housekeeper."

  "Only because her charity work takes her away so much. Heaven forbid if we tried to fend for ourselves once or twice a week."

  Bryce was right, Destry thought. Mrs. Finch only gave in to their pleas for her to hire some help because she was afraid they might try to cook something. Every now and then, one of them hinted they would like to learn. The impulse didn't last. The Benedict sisters were not domestically inclined. A fact that suited everyone—especially Mrs. Finch—just fine.

  "Did Dee say why she wanted to meet with us?" Andi passed the sunscreen to Destry.

  "Nope. Hopefully, she found something useful about Hunter."

  "Doubtful." Bryce sighed. "I love Dee to death, and she's a great private investigat
or. Which means if she hasn't dug up any dirt by now, we may be out of luck."

  "Luck may be on our side for once."

  "Dee." The P.I.'s greeting gave Destry a much-needed burst of hope. She filled another glass from the nearby pitcher. "Sit down and tell us what you found out."

  Dee Wakefield, dressed in her ubiquitous leather biker boots and blue jeans, took the lemonade before she sat in the chair next to Bryce. The color of the tips of her spiky dark hair changed with her moods. Today? Fire-engine red. Tattoos, starting at her wrists, traveled up her arms and under the sleeves of her fluorescent purple t-shirt whose front decal declared in bold letters, Bad to the Bone.

  Ex-Navy, Dee didn't take crap from anyone, including the men who thought P.I. work wasn't meant for the softer sex. She showed them who was soft with attitude and was happy to kick anyone in the balls who tried to stand in her way.

  Needless to say, Destry liked Dee the moment they met. And her sisters felt the same.

  "Please tell me you found something we can use against Hunter. Time is running out."

  "Nothing definitive." When Destry let out a frustrated growl, Dee held up a hand. "Calm down. I'm here for a reason. And you're the one who put me on the scent."

  "Me? What did I do?"

  "You asked me to check out Liam Stanton."

  Destry stomach dropped.

  "And?"

  "Still want to find Ingo the III?"

  "Oh, shit." Destry's stomach continued in free fall right to her feet. "Please tell me Liam is not Ingo Hunter's son?"

  "Of course he isn't." Andi frowned. "They were face to face right here in our home. You said Hunter didn't give Liam a second look."

  "Hunter was drunk and, as far as we know, hasn't seen his son in over twelve years."

  "We discussed the possibility Ingo III had plastic surgery." Bryce's worried gaze stayed on Destry. "Have you noticed any facial scars around Liam's hairline?"

  "Why would I?" Destry wracked her brain. "I knew he was too good looking to be real. Probably asked for George Clooney's nose and Paul Newman's chin. Might as well have the best, right?"