Playboy Billionaire

by Cherie Mitchell

  “I have my sister’s baby shower on Saturday, remember?”

  “Of course. Sorry. I’m meeting the DuMondes for drinks on Sunday… how about Monday?”

  “Monday is good for me. I’ll ask Mom to look after Nico. Arial, this is so exciting but it’s also super fast. We had lunch last month and you didn’t mention Carson then. How long have you been keeping your relationship a secret?”

  Arial’s pulse quickened. “It’s not a secret. We’ve been very open about our relationship since we first met.” It wasn’t strictly a lie. Darius and the croupier had seen them together at the Casino and Carson hadn’t tried to hide it from those men that he was interested in her. Oh, and the doorman. The doorman had seen them together too. In fact, if she wanted to get picky about it, she could also point out that Carson’s lawyer knew about their pending matrimony as well.

  There was a sharp edge of suspicion in Bethany’s voice now. “And when was this?”

  She’d been waiting for this question. Trust Bethany not to let anything slip by her. “Uh… yesterday. Right after I lost my job at Carmond & Proctor. I guess it was just good timing.”

  “Ok, I get it now. Very funny, ha-ha. You got me good.”

  “I’m not joking. Check the news sites in a few minutes. Carson’s father is going to issue a press release at 2 pm, after Carson has had a chance to tell his mother over lunch today.” The wording of the press release had been tricky to navigate. After Carson got over the shock of her lack of parents, he’d asked her what she wanted him to write on the wedding announcement. In the end, they’d agreed the official media announcement should say that Terence and Martha DuMonde were delighted to announce the engagement of their only son to Abigail Jackson and just leave it at that, with no mention made of Abigail’s parents. She’d remembered afterward, after she hung up from the call, that she hadn’t asked for Steve’s name to be included on the announcement but it was probably better this way. If Steve somehow managed to get access to the internet, he might be miffed to see his name on the press release when he knew nothing about the wedding.

  “But why would you marry a man that you’ve only just met? And why would he? Please don’t take this the wrong way, but Carson DuMonde could have anyone he wanted.”

  “We both have our reasons,” she said airily.

  “Oh, Arial. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Carson

  “Hello, mother.” Carson walked up behind Martha where she sat at the table and stooped to brush his lips over her cheek. This was her favorite restaurant and she invariably chose it whenever they met for lunch. “You’re looking lovely.”

  “Oh, there you are Carson. What do you think about this?” Martha handed across her phone as Carson sat down. She pointed a precisely manicured phone at the photograph on the screen. “I’m thinking of redecorating the West Room and this caught my eye. Do you think the color is too much?”

  Carson barely glanced at the image. Martha was always redecorating something and he genuinely didn’t care about the colors she selected. “I’m sure that whatever you decide will be perfect.”

  She studied him as she switched off her phone. “You’re up to something.”

  He gave a light laugh and lifted his hand to signal to the waiter. “It never ceases to amaze me how quickly you can jump to conclusions.”

  “Ladies don’t jump, dear. Ladies merely glide, like the graceful swans that we are.” She smiled up at the waiter. “Ah, James. Just the usual for me thank you.”

  Carson didn’t bother to look at the menu. “The steak for me, thanks. Medium-rare, no garlic in the sauce.”

  “So to what do I owe the pleasure of a Wednesday luncheon?” Martha asked. She was still watching him shrewdly. “You don’t carry a secret well. You never did. It sits on your shoulder like a disgruntled pigeon until you set it free.”

  “That’s quite an image. I’ll never look at pigeons in the same way again. Has Dad said anything to you?”

  Her perfect brows dove down into a frown. “About what?”

  “How do you feel about a quick trip to France?”

  “Carson…”

  “The mother of the groom must always attend the wedding in something suitable for the occasion. You don’t have much time so I guess it will have to be off the rack, but you might like to start thinking of what color you’d like so you can let them know before you arrive.”

  Her eyes widened. “You don’t mean…”

  He smiled broadly, enjoying her reaction. “I mean it. A lovely young lady named Arial Jackson accepted my proposal and you have just over a week and a half to prepare yourself. Dad suggested that we hold it at the hill mansion to save the fuss. It should be a simple matter to air out the rooms and get the wedding planners in. We can hold both the service and reception there. It will keep the rubberneckers away and you might want to look at putting up canvas shelters to prevent helicopters or drones getting early photographs of the bride as she walks in.”

  Martha’s mouth was now hanging open but no sound was coming out.

  “Oh, and I’ll leave you in charge of the guest list. You’ve always been so good at organizing functions and events.”

  Martha had found her voice at last. “A week and a half?! I thought your father asked you to find yourself a bride by the 30th?”

  “Why wait once you’ve found the right woman?”

  “My goodness.” Martha picked up her linen napkin and fluttered it in front of her face. “I suppose I could organize a fleeting trip to France tomorrow morning, and I could work on the guest list on the way. The wedding planners, once they have their instructions, can work unsupervised for much of the time until I get back.” She dropped the napkin and clapped her hands together in excitement. “Oh, I do adore a good wedding!”

  “Nice.” Carson remembered the last wedding he’d attended, the wedding of a friend of a friend in Las Vegas. The friend on whose arm he’d plus-oned was a naughty lingerie model named Samantha and he still remembered the delicious taste of her bon-bons…

  “Carson! I’ve obviously been speaking to myself for the past five minutes,” Martha admonished him.

  “Sorry. Mind on other things. You’ll be able to pull everything together in time, won’t you?”

  “Yes, with enough help from the right people.” She clicked her tongue against her teeth. “You’ll be asking Matthew to step in as your best man, of course.”

  “Ah, that would be a big, fat no. Matthew is the last person who I would consider as my best man.”

  “But he’s family…”

  “He’s also after my position in the family. I’m sorry, but Matthew will not be in the wedding party. I’m planning to ask Michael instead.”

  Martha curled her lip. “Not that boorish Michael who was so appallingly drunk at the Gala Ball?”

  “Was he? I didn’t notice. But if you mean my long-term friend Michael Cavanaar, then you’re right.” Yes, he knew that Michael was fond of a tipple or six, but the two of them had been through a lot together. A lot of women mostly.

  She inhaled deeply and he watched as her nostrils pinched all the way shut.

  “I’ll tell him to be on his best behavior.”

  “You shouldn’t have to. He’s a grown man. You know that a large contingent of the media will be there. There hasn’t been a DuMonde wedding for years.”

  “Mmmhmm.”

  She was silent for several minutes before speaking again. “And the young lady’s parents? What about them?”

  “Why are you and Dad so hung up about her parents? I’m marrying Arial, not her family.”

  “It’s all about the breeding, dear.” She crinkled her brow. “Jackson, Jackson… the name isn’t familiar. Oh! Unless you’re talking about the Beverly Jacksons? Such a lovely family.”

  “Her parents are dead,” he said bluntly. “Killed in a car accident. Arial is on her own.”

  “On her own?” Martha appeared to be having dif
ficulty with this concept. “Then who will walk her down the aisle?”

  “I don’t know. We haven’t talked about that yet. Does she need to be walked down the aisle?”

  “Traditionally, yes.”

  Carson chuckled. “I don’t think we can call this a traditional wedding. Up until this moment, I’ve only spent four hours in the girl’s company.”

  “Excuse me? I thought you said… I thought she must be a long-term acquaintance of yours.”

  “Nope. We’ve only just met. Dad gave me his orders and I followed them.”

  The napkin was now fluttering furiously again. “Oh, Carson. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Arial

  Every minute of the past few days had felt like a dream. She was living in a room at the DuMonde Casino, although it was hardly a room in the true sense of the word. This so-called room was larger than her entire apartment and more luxurious than anywhere she had ever lived in the past. Her possessions from her old apartment, the things she wanted to keep, were now safely boxed up and she was feeling carefree and unburdened.

  Bethany had agreed to accompany her to La Fleur on Monday for the wedding dress fitting. The owner was both appalled and delighted when Arial phoned to make the appointment and told her the name of the man she was marrying. Appalled because Arial would have to choose her dress off the rack at this late stage and delighted that she was the one chosen to dress the bride of Carson DuMonde. “This is wonderful news! I’ll make sure I have no other bookings on the day so that you can have my undivided attention. How many guests will you be bringing to the fitting? Do you have a preference for any particular brand of champagne to keep the mood upbeat whilst you try on your dress? What about finger foods and snacks? Are you keto-ing or low-carbing? I suppose you must be doing one or the other with the wedding so close. I’ll make sure that I cater accordingly for your visit.”

  Arial was beginning to understand just how much power the DuMonde name carried and that was thrilling in itself.

  She checked her reflection in the mirror before leaving for her Friday night date with Carson. At his insistence, she had completely upgraded her wardrobe, spent several hours at a hair salon, spent another few hours at a beauty parlor where she’d enjoyed a facial and purchased the latest line in top range cosmetics, and started an Instagram account under the handle Bride of DuMonde. Clarice, her newly employed social media whizz kid and a young woman who spoke almost entirely in hashtags, was taking care of that but she had a disconcerting habit of appearing from nowhere to take ‘lifestyle’ shots of Arial. She would be at the wedding dress fitting on Monday but Arial had persuaded her to stay away this evening and allow her to enjoy her night out with her fiancé.

  Arial’s palms were damp as she made her way over to the elevators. She’d spoken to Carson several times, and texted with him even more times than that, but she hadn’t seen him since he left her apartment on Tuesday night. He was always so sweet and attentive during both his voice calls and messages but seeing him in person again was daunting. This man had pledged to marry her and he was committing his life to stand by her side. It was a massive undertaking and he was probably feeling as nervous as she was right now.

  She arrived at the restaurant, an exclusive space reserved for the Casino’s high rollers and governed under the strict supervision of a Michelin-starred chef, to find that she’d arrived before Carson. However, Darius was there to ease her apprehension. “Good evening, Miss Jackson.”

  “Hi, Darius.” They were friends now. Whenever Arial ordered a room service meal, Darius was always the one to deliver it and whenever she walked past the Casino on her way out, he was always there with a kind hello. He was unfailingly polite and he usually stopped to speak to her for a few minutes. Their conversational topics weren’t too interesting, mainly things to do with the number of punters at the Casino at that particular time of day or night, or what the weather was doing outside, but it was nice that he bothered to stop and talk. Darius was a friendly, comforting face in a whole sea of new experiences and she could tell that he liked her too.

  Darius led her across to a private table with an unsurpassed view of the shining, sparkling city. “I can never get enough of looking at a city by night. Don’t you think it’s beautiful, Darius?”

  “Very beautiful, ma’am.” Darius flicked open the napkin and laid it politely across her lap. “Can I get you something to drink while you wait for Mr. DuMonde?”

  “Hmmm – no, I think I’ll wait for Carson to arrive first.” She smiled up at the man. “Although there is something you can do for me.”

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  She leaned in close and dropped her voice conspiratorially. “As terrible as this sounds, I don’t know much about my fiancé. Are you willing to share any secrets? I know that you’ve worked for him for a while now.”

  Darius made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. “Uh, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. One of the reasons Mr. DuMonde employs me is because of my discretion.”

  “Oh, I’m not asking you to be indiscrete but there must be some little tidbit you can share.” She softened her eyes and nibbled at her bottom lip with her teeth, coaxing him to reveal at least something.

  “Uh…” Darius looked around, as if seeking some means of escape.

  “Darius?”

  “He likes chocolate-covered candies,” the waiter said quickly. “The red ones. He always asks me to put a bowl out in his suite when he’s, uh, entertaining.”

  Arial widened her smile. “See? That wasn’t so hard. Is there anything else you can tell me?”

  Darius took a moment to straighten the cuffs of his uniform before replying. “Mr. DuMonde is easily bored. He likes to live life on the edge and he’s always on the look out for the next new experience.”

  “Yes, I’ve seen the articles online about him and his skiing, jet boating, and paragliding pursuits. He’s obviously an outdoorsy person.”

  “Uh, yeah. And indoorsy too.” Darius coughed. “I’ll leave you in peace, ma’am. You don’t need me hanging over your shoulder. Please notify me if there’s anything I can get for you.”

  “I will. Thank you.” Arial turned her attention back to the twinkling yellow, gold, and blue lights spread out below her. Somewhere down there, her handsome husband-to-be was making his way to her side. The thought sent a thrill through her body. Despite all the doubts that other people were throwing at them, they would make this work. Carson was obviously a person with great personal determination and dedication and she was committed to the marriage from the moment she’d agreed to embark on this big adventure. Sure, they didn’t know much about each other yet but that would come with time, as would love and affection. Their beginning might be a little unusual but their marriage was destined for success. She could feel it in her heart.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Carson

  There she was, sitting at the table by the window. Patiently waiting for him and looking like a slice of prime steak. He gave Darius a wink as he sauntered in. Darius was currently on overtime wages so he could keep an eye on Arial 24/7. There was still time to cancel the wedding if Arial had any unsavory or irredeemable habits and Everett had carefully written enough loopholes into the contract to carry him through if he wanted to back out.

  He was feeling on top of the world this evening. He’d spent the day in a casual but satisfying dalliance with a ballet dancer named Chantelle. She was slim and flexible, although she didn’t eat much and she was embarrassed about showing him her feet after years of dancing on her toes. However, her sublimely pretty face, ridiculously tiny waist, and ready wit had enthralled him for a short time and she was happy enough with the pay-off at the end of their appointment. Now that the press was all over the upcoming DuMonde wedding, his women were asking for more and more in return for keeping their mouths shut but he had expected that.

  “Good evening.” He courteously bowed his head as he reached A
rial’s chair. “You’re looking lovely tonight.” Whoa. This girl was insane. Yeah, he’d known she was a looker but now that she was out of those frumpy clothes and dolled up for a night out she was a knock-out. Despite the tiredness brought on by his romp with Chantelle today, he felt his body respond to her eager smile.

  “Hi, Carson! Doesn’t the city look amazing from here?”

  “It does, but the view in all directions looks good from here.” He kept his eyes on her face so she couldn’t miss his meaning.

  Her cheeks turned pink and she fiddled with the napkin in her lap as he sat down. “Did you have a good day?”

  “I had a fantastic day. How about you?”

  “It was busy. Fun but busy.”

  “Nice.” He nodded at Darius as the other man approached the table. “Scotch tonight, thanks. Arial, what would you like? Champagne?”

  “Just the one glass.”

  Carson turned back to Arial as Darius walked silently away. “I had lunch with Mom on Wednesday. She booked a flight to Paris the next day to organize her Mom of the Groom outfit and the wedding planners are currently working on the schedule for the big day at the hills mansion. How’s everything going your end?” Damn, she had awesome breasts. Firm and not too large. He wondered if they were real. She didn’t seem the sort of woman to go out and get a boob job but then again, you never really could tell. From his experience, women seemed to do the oddest things on little more than a whim.

  “I’m meeting the bridal consultant on Monday. My best friend Bethany is coming to help me choose a dress and of course we’ll organize her dress at the same time.”

  “Yeah, I have to sort out a time to get together with my best man too.” If he could find him, that is. Good old Mikey had done one of his disappearing acts again, probably gone to ground with his latest hot hook-up. Carson had left several messages for him over the past few days and now all he could do was wait until Michael got in touch. “Are you available on Sunday?”