by Megan Bryce
“No. This is worth more than that. Maybe like a half million.”
“No way.” She shook her head.
“I think my reputation is worth that much.”
“Oh, please. This won’t affect you at all. Except maybe back some women off. Which we’ll both be happy about.”
He read the article again quickly and said, “Anything else you need to say to me?”
She took a deep breath. “I don’t like your money– you have too much of it. I don’t like your fame– your life will always be a circus. I don’t like your pretty face– women will always be throwing themselves at you. I don’t like your name– it’s a legacy to live up to. I don’t like your charm– you use it as a weapon. I don’t like your mother– she doesn’t like me.”
Ethan’s eyebrows had risen nearly to his hairline during her list and he said, “Sounds hopeless.”
Mackenzie nodded. But she stayed where she was, she didn’t turn around and leave. She didn’t run away.
He cocked his head. “Was that your declaration of love? It needs some work.”
“But I love you anyway. I want you despite all that.”
“Are you saying none of that little stuff matters?”
She whispered, “Yes.” And it didn’t. It was just little stuff.
He reached one hand out, pulling her towards him and onto his lap. He pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, and stared into her eyes. He kissed her and she kept her eyes wide open, seeing inside him. Seeing how much he loved her.
He said, “Let’s go inside.”
She shook her head. “We need to hammer out another pre-nup.”
“We can do that naked.”
She shook her head again. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to need my wits about me.”
He looked down at her bare finger. “Here’s a firm requirement. You’ll wear my ring.”
“I get to pick this one out.”
He smiled, the first since she arrived. “We’ve just barely gotten engaged for real and we’re already on your third ring.”
She didn’t smile back at him. “Your mother will not be involved with this one, got it?”
“Are you sure? Her consultant did a good job.”
“No. I get to pick it out. And yours.”
“Why am I suddenly nervous?”
“Or I could just tattoo ‘Taken. Don’t bother.’ on your forehead.”
He grinned, rising with her in his arms. “Forget the pre-nup. Just marry me. Together we could rule the world, but we’ll be so busy with our little demons we just won’t have the time.”
“I don’t even want to think about the children you’d have.” But she did– she could see them– two little devils with golden curls and green eyes.
She held the screen door open as he carried her inside and he said, “I’m thinking six should do it.”
“Six!”
“It’ll take that many to slow you down. And my mother is going to be around a lot. She’ll need a baby to hold for quite some time.” He carried her into the living area, stopping in front of the couch and putting her on her feet. He said, “She’ll start liking you around the fourth one, the fifth should clinch it, but I think we should aim for six just to be on the safe side.”
“I think you underestimate any child we’d make. One little twinkly smile and your mother is a goner.”
He popped the button on her jeans. “You forget how much she doesn’t like you.”
“Not the couch, we don’t fit. And maybe we should elope.”
He shook his head. “We’ll invite your grandparents.”
A sad light came into her eyes. “They won’t come.”
He kissed her lightly. “They will. I can be very persuasive.”
She stared into his eyes. “Maybe.”
“No maybe. They’ll come around by the wedding. Or at least the first child. Just like my mother.” He looked up the stairs and grimaced. “I’m not carrying you up there.”
“You said your mother wouldn’t come around until the fifth grandchild.”
“The sixth, definitely.”
Mackenzie’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh, my God. Is your mother going to want to live with us?”
Ethan’s eyes twinkled and he took her hand, leading her up the stairs and to the bedroom. “It is tradition.”
“How do you feel about her getting re-married?”
“You can try. But, to be fair, I just don’t see it happening.”
She started unbuttoning his shirt and he said, “So if I’m giving you half of O’Connor Capital, what are you giving me in return?”
She looked up. “Seriously?”
He nodded. “It’s only fair.”
She thought about it and pushed his shirt off. “Undying love? A house full of children? A shrewd and intelligent business partner?”
“Eh. I need something concrete, something painful.”
“I think childbirth counts. Especially if you want six. And I really don’t want half of your company. Really don’t.”
He smiled, the happiest light shining out of his eyes, and pushed her pants down her legs. “I know.” He kissed her. “But you’re getting it anyway.”
“What if you keep the shares and add my name instead? We can call it Wyatt O’Connor Capital.” She smiled. “I like the ring of that.”
He shook his head. “Then you’d just call it the Wok.”
She snickered and he grabbed her by the waist, kissing her quickly. “Cold and heartless. How was I ever supposed to believe that.”
He tumbled them to the bed and she said, “Your mother believes it.”
“Mothers are irrational when it comes to their children. When we have our first rugrat, you’ll forgive her.”
She raised her eyebrows and he said, “Okay, by the fifth one you’ll forgive her. Or just be too tired to care anymore.”
“Maybe she’ll be dead by then.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “I’ve thought of something worth half my fortune.”
She looked at his expression and said, “Oh, no.”
He nodded. She tried a puppy dog look and he said, “Come on, you can do it.”
She closed her eyes. “I will try to like your mother.”
“I need a little more than that.”
She scrunched her face up in pain. “I will love your mother as if she was my own.”
“And?”
She throat nearly squeezed itself shut but she croaked, “And she can live with us if she wants to.” She mumbled, “If I can’t get her married off.”
“We’ll put it in the pre-nup.”
She nodded slowly and opened her eyes. “Is that painful enough for you?”
His eyes twinkled, his teeth sparkled. “That’ll seal the deal.”
She whispered, “God, I hate when you do that.”
He turned off the twinkle and smiled his real self at her. “Oh, honey. You’d better get used to it.”
And he kissed her.
Prince Charming’s Happily Ever After
Ethan Howell O’Connor and his wife, Mackenzie Wyatt O’Connor, have welcomed their first child– a boy! Wyatt Dean O’Connor was born last Thursday, weighing 7 lbs 14 oz. Mom and baby are doing well, and according to proud papa, baby Wyatt has everyone wrapped around his little finger already. Ethan O’Connor also says he can’t wait for a daughter to join their happily growing family. Mackenzie O’Connor could not be reached for a comment but this reporter did notice that Ethan O’Connor lost his breath rather abruptly after bringing up the subject of a second child. Will Prince Charming talk his princess into a close sibling for baby Wyatt? Stay tuned!
* * *
About Some Like It Ruthless
Dallas, Texas~ the home of big hair and big hats. Big money and big egos. Big lives, big loves, and big mistakes…
The Caldwells and Montgomerys have been feuding for generations, and through the years Margaret and Cole have been secret friends, secret lovers, and outright enemie
s. For the last six years, they've both pretended the other didn't exist— it's hard to get along with a Caldwell when she always gets what she wants; it's hard to trust a Montgomery when he'll go out of his way to break a deal.
But six years is a long time. Long enough to make a woman who was once queen of the Dallas social set now teeter on the brink of bankruptcy. Long enough to make a man who was once reviled now so prosperous that anyone in Dallas would beg to be under his thumb.
Almost anyone. Because Margaret Caldwell hasn't forgotten that the last time she made a deal with Cole Montgomery, he betrayed her— and she'll never believe that all he wants for saving her this time is forgiveness for his one big mistake…
Contains a damn lotta cussing, too much sex and innuendo, and one angry blonde making a man sing soprano.
Table of Contents
About
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Megan BryceSome Like It Ruthless
Prologue
Cole Montgomery had come to beg.
And it sat in his gut like lead. Went well with the ulcerous hole the threat of bankruptcy was causing. But he couldn’t see any way out but going under.
Either under water or under the heel of a too tall, too skinny, too beautiful woman who hated him with every fiber of her being.
That she had good cause to hate him didn’t make it any easier to swallow.
He looked at the cool blond with eyes the color of a melting glacier and thought if he hadn’t been such a stupid shit six years ago, it would’ve been a whole lot easier to talk her into helping him.
He said, “I don’t need your money, just your name. The time your name can give me.”
Margaret Caldwell pushed her chair back from the desk, crossed a long leg, and steepled her fingers. “You want to marry me.”
Cole resisted the urge to rub his stomach. “I’m proposing a merger. Agree to play my fiance, give a few smiles to my creditors. Let them think that we’ll be combining our land, our businesses, and they’ll get off my back long enough for me to crawl out of this hole I’ve dug for myself.”
She didn’t smile when she said, “There are quite a few holes you’ve dug for yourself around here.”
He leaned forward. “I know it. I think it shows how deep the shit is if I’m coming to a Caldwell for a shovel.”
Her lips twitched. “You’ve always had a way with words, Cole.”
He felt a ray of hope. “I’ll give you anything if you play along with this. Let you publicly castrate me at the end of it.”
Maggie looked mildly interested, the first interest he’d seen in her eyes since he’d walked through the thick mahogany doors of her office, and her eyes flicked down to his crotch. She said, “Tempting. But I think bankruptcy will do that for me.”
It would. It would leave him with nothing, including his balls.
There were a fortunate few who could survive in Dallas society after a bankruptcy. Maggie was one of them, but Cole Montgomery wasn’t anywhere close. He didn’t have friends in high places to ease the way. He didn’t have a name as old as the city itself or have a goddamned street named after an ancestor of his.
Although it might as well have been. With views of the railroad tracks and home to semi-trailers, Montgomery Street epitomized what Dallas society thought of Cole and his father.
The son of a ruthless upstart wouldn’t get a second chance, a second thought, if his budding empire fell apart. Maybe after a few more generations the Montgomerys would have been accepted. Or after a hell of a lot more money.
He knew his current predicament had come from pushing too hard, risking too much to get those golden gates opened to him. He’d wanted to be part of the club. Now he could see, too late, how stupid that was.
He should just have “stupid shit” branded on his ass.
Because all Cole Montgomery had was a long line of enemies who would love nothing more than to tear apart everything he, and his father before him, had taken from them.
He knew he should include Maggie on that list of enemies. But despite their long and rocky past, she’d always come to his rescue when he’d gotten in over his head. The first eight years he’d known Maggie, she’d sauntered in front of his raised fists more times than he cared to count.
No one, but no one, would dare harm a Caldwell. Even the stupidest teenage boy would back away for fear of accidentally hurting her. Because if you dared hurt a Caldwell, the golden gates closed against you and yours. Loans were rescinded, money dried up, and you could kiss Texas goodbye.
He could only hope that the first eight years meant more to her than the last six.
Maggie said, “I’m not going to help you, Cole. We’re competitors, rivals. If I can buy your distressed property for pennies on the dollar after your bankruptcy, I will dance a jig on that watering hole your father swindled out of mine.”
“You can have the watering hole. I’ll even dance a jig with you– clothes optional.”
He looked at her, trying to see any emotion on her face that didn’t give him shivers. He would never know how a woman raised in the hot Texas sun could learn to freeze a man with her gaze.
Cole said, “We’re more than players in a petty feud, Maggie. More than a flickering flame left over from our fathers’ war. We’re neighbors. Friends.”
Friends might have been pushing it. Maggie had told him once that they were frenemies. That they might have liked each other if their families hadn’t hated each other. Might have liked each other if their fathers hadn’t spent years trying to break the other one.
Might have been lovers still if he hadn’t gone for the kill at the first provocation.
Maggie said, “We’re neighbors only because your father was a cheat and a bastard. And we’re not friends.”
He didn’t disagree about his father. Look up cheat or bastard in any dictionary in Texas and Rich Montgomery’s picture would be glued there. Even after the man had been dead for three years.
He said, “We were friends. More than friends at one time.”
She raised one eyebrow at him, that was it, and he knew he’d lost. He’d misstepped by bringing up their ill-fated relationship. His only consolation was there had been little hope she would’ve gone along with his plan to begin with.
She got up, her heels clicking methodically across the cool marble as she headed for the door.
Cole said softly, “Please. Please, Maggie.”
She had to know he would only come to her if he had no other option. No hope. But he’d say the words for her. Give her that, and hope she liked the thought of lording it over him enough to put the past behind them.
She turned, her hand on the doorknob and a cold, cruel smile on her face. “I’ve always wanted to hear a Montgomery beg. Outside of the bedroom.”
Cole closed his eyes, acknowledging his words being thrown back at him. The disgusting words of an eighteen-year-old boy.
It had been too much to hope she’d forgotten. Forgiven.
He nodded his head, and didn’t bother to open his eyes when the door opened and his salvation walked out of it.
He heard her say to her assistant, “Get him out of my office,” and wondered if there was any way down that would end with him splattering on the hot cement below. Fast and messy had to be better than this long drawn-out hell.
Cole didn’t look for Maggie as security escorted him out and to the elevators. Didn’t want to see the glee he’d find in her eyes.
Didn’t want to see what a Caldwell looked like when she finally broke a Montgomery.
Megan BryceSome Like It Ruthless
One
Six years later
Maggie set her drink down with a thud and g
lared at her sister. “It’s not happening. Ever.”
“You want to put Daddy in a home? And Mother? Should we just dig her up and move her to the cemetery?”
Maggie rubbed her forehead. She wanted to say that Mother was dead, Daddy was good as. It would be kinder to him if he was.
She said, “I am not asking Cole Montgomery to bail me out of bankruptcy. End of story.”
Maggie didn’t bother saying she had a better chance of winning the lottery than of getting him to help. Her sister must have had three drinks too many to even think it was a possibility.
Ginny said, “He asked you to help him when bankruptcy was breathing down his neck.”
Maggie laughed humorlessly. “And I said no. Remember?”
“But he asked. Now that the situations are reversed, it would almost be rude not to ask him.”
Maggie shook her head, pushing her fist into the ache in her stomach. She kept forgetting that alcohol was not her friend anymore.
Maggie said, “I didn’t realize there was etiquette involved when begging for favors.”
“He gave you the opportunity to be the bigger man. To let bygones be bygones. It’s not his fault you didn’t take it.”
Maggie sometimes hated her sister. She had plenty of reasons to. Where Margaret was tall enough to be intimidating, Virginia was just tall enough to be statuesque. Where Margaret’s blond was ashy, nearly silver even, Virginia’s blond was the color of golden honey. Where Margaret made people run into doors, Virginia made people run to open doors.
Maggie was beautiful, except when she was next to her sister. Next to her sister she was just a little too much to be beautiful.
But Maggie had one thing Ginny didn’t. Where Ginny was sweet and lovely and loved by everyone who knew her, Maggie was ruthless. She got what she wanted. And she protected what was hers.
