The Wrong Billionaire, page 14
He went to a jeweler, where he bought her some earrings—diamond waterfalls in four columns that ended in a taper. He was thinking they would bring out the silver detailing in her gown, but he was unprepared for how well the gown would suit her.
She almost knocked him out of his tuxedo and into the wall.
Her hands fluttered against her strapless neckline and down the fitted silk against her hip. Long sleeves ran from her upper arms to her wrists, leaving her golden-brown skin naked across her shoulders and chest. A slit in one side of the skirt revealed her smooth thigh, her shapely calf. Lower, he took in her black suede sandals with silver heels. The hem of the gown was beaded with silver patterns that licked upward like flames.
“Is it okay?” She started to touch her hair, then thought better of it. She had released her natural curls so they were a bouncy, glossy halo with a side part.
“You’re beautiful.” He had to clear his throat. “I should have bought you a necklace, too.” He opened the box and offered the earrings.
“You didn’t have to—Oh.” Her eyes widened. “I have these hoops.” Her hand went to the thin gold he hadn’t even noticed.
“Call it an engagement present.”
“I still have to return the ring Hunter gave me,” she murmured absently, seeming mesmerized by the earrings.
“Give it to me. I’ll do it,” he said in a surge of unmitigated possessiveness. “Will you wear these?”
“How could I not? They’re stunning.” Her look up at him was admonishing, but filled with helpless delight.
Minutes later, they were in the back of the car. He couldn’t help angling to see his earrings glinting and sparkling through the shadowed interior, filling him with intense satisfaction that she had accepted them. That she wore his diamonds, not Hunter’s.
Not that he was the sort of man who needed to put a stamp on “his” woman. He was genuinely relieved she wasn’t in that marriage. She would have been deeply unhappy and he was sick with himself that he hadn’t stopped it sooner.
Could he make her happy, though? He kept telling himself this was a business arrangement with a benefit of slaked lust, but what if his family rejected her? For Yasmine’s sake, he wanted the hostility with Micah defused and hoped this marriage would do it, but walking into the actual party was a delicate dance on a minefield.
Eden was a naturally warm and gracious person, however. No matter how stiffly she was welcomed when he introduced her to different people, she smiled and showed genuine interest and soon charmed even his aunt Hanameel.
“She’s easy to like, I’ll grant you,” she conceded when they had a moment on a balcony, where they were catching a breath of air. “But what is your endgame, Remy? An affair with her will only stir up her brother against us. Do you love her? Is that it?”
She sounded so disapproving, he quickly said, “No, of course not.”
It felt like a lie. His heart lurched, but he said it again, more firmly.
“I don’t love her, but I can help her in ways that will put our feud to bed once and for all. That has to happen, Auntie. It can’t continue.”
She searched his gaze and he had a sudden thought—she knows. His heart swerved again. She was his mother’s sister and perhaps had been his mother’s confidante, but he looked away, refusing to confirm his own knowledge. It was too painful to consider.
“Secrets are as heavy as grudges. You know that, don’t you?” She squeezed his arm.
A sensation hit his throat, one that made it seem as though all the air had been sucked from his lungs.
“You’re neglecting your date, Remy,” Yasmine said, forcing them both to turn to the open doors, where Yasmine as standing with Eden. Yasmine was her colorful, effusive self, wearing a wildly radiant and flowing pantsuit. Her locs were draped loosely around her shoulders, her lips were painted gold. “I could see her from across the room, standing here waiting for you to ask her to dance.”
Eden gave him a wan smile. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”
With his joints feeling rusty, he made his excuses to his aunt and invited Eden onto the dance floor. She was stiff in his arms.
“If you overheard—”
“I like your sis—”
They both stopped speaking. He nodded to invite her to speak first.
“I like Yasmine a lot. She’s so bubbly and hearing how she talks about art... She sounds like a creative genius. Your cousin said that fashion might be her bread and butter, but she can make bread and butter look like a masterpiece.”
Remy forced a smile of amusement. “I can’t disagree.”
“Yasmine said her propensity for being consumed by art contributed to her recent breakup. It sounds like it was serious.” Her lashes lifted as she tilted a look of deep understanding at him. “I see why you’d hesitate to hurt her, especially now.”
He nodded in curt acknowledgment. Her recent heartbreak did make him that little bit more protective. So did that disturbing exchange with his aunt. Yasmine was no more vulnerable than the average Black woman. In fact, she had an incredible safety net in their large, wealthy family, but he wouldn’t want her to feel as though any of that didn’t belong to her or had slipped beyond her reach.
“Do you want to...?” Her lips rolled inward. “Invite her to...?”
Their wedding? It was partially for Yasmine’s sake.
“Maybe.”
One of his uncles cut in on him, eager to tell Eden about his award-winning roses. They didn’t talk about it again until they were aboard the flight the next day.
* * *
“You decided against inviting Yasmine?” Eden asked cautiously when they were in the air.
Her heart was still stinging at overhearing him last night, when he had assured his aunt that he didn’t love her.
“I didn’t want to do it at the party. Too many people around. I texted her this morning, but she probably stayed late and was still asleep. I made arrangements for her to catch up with us if she wants to. There’s time before the wedding tomorrow.”
Technically, they could have married on arrival and stayed overnight to fulfill the residency requirement, but this way they had time to relax in their suite, make love then lazily rise and enjoy the setting.
Eden texted Quinn, inviting her to join them on their terrace for an aperitif, then stood at the rail to take in the view.
Across the placid sea, the muscled coastline of North Africa was silhouetted against the reds and golds of sunset. A light breeze rippled the caftan she was wearing. Her whole body felt like warm honey, her mood expansive and light.
Remy joined her, wearing only a pair of drawstring joggers that hung low across his hips. He braced his forearms on the rail and cocked one knee.
Eden nearly swallowed her tongue at how casually sexy he was. She set her hand on his shoulder and skated it across his sun-warmed back, purely because she could.
And because she liked hearing him catch his breath and feeling him twitch with pleasure under her touch.
“Where will we marry?” she asked, hearing her voice waver with the potent emotion taking her over.
“In the garden. There’s a gazebo near a fountain. We’re the eleven o’clock. They do this all the time.” He turned his head. “Do you mind that it’s small?”
“Gosh, no! As long as you show up, it will be the best day of my life.” It was a lame joke at her own expense, but so true that she experienced a sharp ache in her chest. At the end of the day, that’s all she would ever need. Him.
“I’ll be there,” he promised with a laconic smile. His eyelids grew heavy and he straightened to drew her into his arms.
He needed a shave, but she liked the scrape on her palm as she cupped his jaw.
Everything in this moment was so perfect—the man who was soon to be her husband, the intimacy of this moment, the sureness inside her that this was meant to be—she couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of her.
“I love you.”
He didn’t move, but she felt the stillness that came over him. She saw the warm light fade from his expression.
“I...thought you should know.” She felt as though she had stepped off this balcony and was now only held up by his strong arms—arms that were falling away from embracing her.
He licked his lips.
“I was hoping this could be a real marriage,” she said hurriedly. “One where we plan to stay together all our lives, not just for now. One that’s about us—”
“Eden, stop. You know I can’t think like that. For God’s sake, we barely know each other. This chemistry...” He waved between them. “That’s all this is. You have to know that.”
His words were such a blow, she stepped back and tried to swallow past the jagged ache in her throat.
“This chemistry has lasted five years. For me, at least,” she added weakly. She turned her hot eyes to the horizon. “I wasn’t asking for you to say you love me, only that maybe you could. That you wanted me forever.”
“How can I say that when wanting you goes against what’s best for my family? I’ve let myself be carried along by this...madness.” He flicked his hand through the air. “It’s selfishness on my part. I’m trying to convince myself I can have you, have sex, without consequences. Now you’re telling me it will impact you in ways that—” His profile winced with deep torture. “I don’t want you to love me. Why did you have to say it?”
She didn’t have a response for that angry accusation. She was so hurt, she wanted to hurt him back. She wanted to say, Because I don’t lie. Because I don’t hide things from people just because it’s hard for them to hear it.
That wasn’t love, though.
She stood there encased in pain, mouth quivering, trying not to cry. Trying not to make it worse, but what could she do? What would they do?
Into the charged silence, she heard a knock on the interior door.
She seized the excuse to walk away from him. Maybe in the back of her mind she thought it would be Micah, but she should have known it would be Quinn.
“Hi!” Quinn’s bright smile dropped off her face. “What...?”
“Take me to your room? Please?”
“Of course. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
REMY CAUGHT THE brunt of Quinn’s accusatory glare as she swept her arm around Eden, but Eden didn’t look back.
The door closed with a heavy click, leaving him with a knotted stomach and a sick taste of bile in the back of his throat.
How could she believe she loved him? How? It was too soon. She had to know that.
Yet he felt as though he had broken her heart. His own was tangled in canes of thorns.
This chemistry has lasted five years. For me, at least.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. Had he led her on, telling her how longing for her had gripped him all these years? It was physical, though. Wasn’t it?
The jangle of the room phone crashed into his tortured ruminations.
He snatched it up, thinking that if it was Micah, he would gladly let the man kick his ass for hurting Eden.
“Remy?” It was Yasmine. “Can we talk?”
“You’re here?” His heart nearly came out his throat. “Where? I’ll come to you.”
She told him and he quickly pulled on a shirt, trying to muster a semblance of clear thought at the same time. What should he tell her about asking her to come here? Was his marriage even still on?
Eden’s need of financial help remained, but their marriage was also supposed to defuse the feud. It was supposed to bring Micah and Yasmine together without having to tell her the truth about her conception.
Everything in him balked at relaying that deeply painful truth to her, but his aunt’s words came back to him. Secrets are as heavy as grudges.
He leaned against the wall of the elevator, nearly buckling under the weight of this one. Yasmine was an adult. Eden had gotten that right. He didn’t want to tell his sister the truth, but he was starting to think he would have to. Not for any reason except that she deserved to know.
The doors opened and he moved with pained purpose down the hall, then rapped on her door and gathered himself for the difficult task as she opened it.
She was wearing torn jeans and a loose blue T-shirt. Her locs were gathered behind her neck with a yellow scarf and her face was clean of makeup. He might have dismissed her plain appearance as a slow start and a mild hangover, but her eyes were red and she seemed almost gray beneath her usually healthy glow.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as she led him into the sitting area of her studio suite.
“Auntie Hanameel told me.”
“Told you... What?” The words gusted out of him as though he’d been punched.
She nodded, seeming shell-shocked.
He did the only thing he could. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her as hard as he could, feeling her trembling, but maybe that was him.
“I wanted to tell you myself. I didn’t know how,” he choked out.
She nodded jerkily, sniffing and holding on to him.
“It doesn’t change a thing about who you are to me.” He was clenching his eyes against a sting of tears. “You are my sister and I love you. Always.”
She nodded.
“How are you doing with it?” He drew back a little, trying to see her face.
“Shocked,” she mumbled and wiped at her wet cheeks. “Maybe not as shocked as I ought to be. I always thought there was something different about me.”
“You’re perfect. Okay? Believe that? Please?”
She nodded, blinking her wet lashes, mouth still unsteady as she sank into a chair.
He folded into the one opposite.
“Why...? I only realized last night that Auntie might know.” His voice was a dry layer peeled off his heart. “Why did she think today was the day?” He ran his hands up and down his thighs, guilt a heavy mantle on him as he suspected his bringing Eden to that party had been her impetus.
“She asked me to come see her this morning. She wanted to know if I thought you were serious about Eden. I said I imagined so, since you had texted me to meet you two in Gibraltar.”
“You told her that?” He bit back a curse of remorse.
“I was excited. She said it was time I understood what the animosity between you and Eden’s brother was really about.” Her voice was unsteady. “Remy... Does he know?”
“Micah? No.”
“Does Eden?”
“She guessed. She—” He rubbed his brow. “It’s complicated. We made it complicated. I was trying to protect you, trying to end this feud, and really...” He shook his head as he opened his eyes to reality. “I think we were just trying to find a way to rationalize marrying and being together when our relationship isn’t rational. I don’t want to hurt you, sis. I’ve been trying to find a way to make it okay that I’m involved with someone who is related to...” He searched her face, not wanting to say it aloud.
“The son of my biological father? It’s not Eden’s fault. It’s not Micah’s. I’m going to need some time to put all of this right in my head, but I know there will come a time when I want to meet him to...” She shrugged. “See if... I don’t know, if we have things in common? It’s weird. It’s like I found out I was adopted. I have questions, but I also need time.”
“Of course.” He reached across to squeeze her hand. “It’s enough that I don’t have to hide it from you anymore. I won’t say a word to anyone.”
“And Eden?”
“She wants him to know, but she won’t tell him. I’m sure of that,” he added as he read Yasmine’s skepticism. “She’s...” Eden was good. She was kind. She was loyal and so heart-forward it scared him.
It made it really easy to stand right on her softest feelings and grind them to dust.
He hung his head in his hands. His elbows dug into his knees.
“Did Auntie send you here to stop us marrying?” he asked.
“She didn’t know what to think of you two, but I pointed out how you had barely taken your eyes off Eden all night. That you’re in love with her.” It was a statement, not a question.
“I am,” he admitted to her and himself, realizing only as his inner being shook under the impact that he’d been plunged fathoms-deep over his head. “It doesn’t make sense because we barely know each other, but I think I fell for her the moment I saw her. I don’t even believe in love at first sight.”
“Because you’re like Daddy, wired for mechanics logic. You have never believed in things you couldn’t see and touch. You think planes fly because of physics, never wanting to admit physics is an incantation.”
He ran his tongue over his teeth, letting her have that one because her teasing meant she was coming out of her tailspin.
He wasn’t. It was hitting him that he had pushed Eden away for exactly the reason she had just said—he didn’t understand how his love for her had happened, so he struggled to believe it was real.
“Is love magic?” he asked with a break in his voice. “Can I conjure it back if I’ve ruined things with the only woman who will ever make me happy?”
* * *
She wasn’t pregnant.
Eden had thought her situation couldn’t get any worse and, logically, she knew this simplified things, but when she came out of the bathroom, she was even more devastated than when she’d gone in.
The thought of having Remy’s baby had been such a sweet one. Losing that possibility was a hard blow, one that felt very final. She was really freaking sad.
Quinn hugged her and tried to console her, but it didn’t help.
“I thought he was The One,” she told Quinn through her tears. “I thought we were soul mates. I know that sounds delusional.”
