Alpha Billionaire’s Bride, Part One (BWWM Romance Serial) (6 page)

“I am! I feel like I’ve been in that old cartoon, the one
where all the servants have been enchanted and turned into furniture and stuff.
The people around here are so enthusiastic and in need of something to do, the
only thing they haven’t done is break into a song and dance number about how
glad they are to have a guest. This is the first moment I’ve had to myself all
day.”

“I can’t believe you’re bitching about being pampered.”

“Yeah, well, you’re probably right. Guess what? There’s a
full-time member of the staff whose job is, literally, pampering people. She’s
an esthetician and masseuse. She can do manicures and pedicures, even trim your
hair. You name it. She wants to plaster me with mud.”

“You’ve got to be the luckiest woman on the planet,” Marina
said wistfully.

“I’d think so, too, if there weren’t this issue of my also
being on the press’s most wanted list. And that reminds me. I’ve got something
for you to do.”

“What?”

“I need you to get in contact with anyone you know at the
courthouse. Dig around, see what you can find out about the fake marriage
license. Is this just a bizarre error, or what? Try to get someone to talk.”

“Er, really? Isn’t Ian’s team all over that?”

“Yeah, and I wasn’t too crazy about how they acted like I
couldn’t help myself. I, however, know I have an ace in the hole, and that’s
you, my dear little sister, the best reporter in the world. You’ll be able to
find some answers, I’m sure.”

“I don’t know, Jada. I’m kind of busy. I’ve got plans this
weekend and—”

“Seriously? Come on. You’re the perfect person to figure
this thing out.”

“I can’t do anything Ian’s team can’t. With his power and
connections? It’d be a waste of time to try.”

Jada blew out a loud breath. “Not true. You’re at the
courthouse all the time, aren’t you? Getting info for the paper? You know people
over there. Like Sylvia. That’s her name, right? She gives you the heads up
when something big happens, right? You’ve told me about her. You said she’s in
one of the records departments. Ask her if she knows or has heard anything.”

“It won’t help. Syl won’t know anything.”

“You can’t be sure until you ask. Come on, Marina. Be an
investigative journalist for your big sister.”

Marina was quiet for a few seconds, before saying with a
sigh, “Fine. I’ll try, if I get the time.”

“Make the time.”

“God, Jada, you spend a couple of hours with doting servants
and you’re suddenly tossing out orders like you’re the queen of the universe.”

Jada smiled. “That’s right. Chop-chop, young reporter. Get
to it.”

“Whatever. I’ve got to go. Send me some pictures of the inside
of the house when you can bear to walk around again ... if you have the energy
to click a pic.”

“No worries. If I don’t, I’ll ask Elly to do it. Elly is my
maid.”

“You’re killing me, you know.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey, Jada. Seriously, joking aside, keep safe out there,
okay? I’m worried about you.”

“How sweet. I’m told it’s Fort Knox out here, and if you saw
the woman in charge of security, you’d believe it. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. I love you, Jada.”

“That’s the second time today you’ve said that. What the
hell?”

“I guess I’m feeling sentimental. You did just get married,
you know.”

“Remember, you didn’t lose a sister, you gained a brother.”

“Don’t I wish. If only he had his own billionaire brothers
to introduce me to. And he doesn’t, just so you know.”

Jada ended the call grinning. Before she put her phone away,
she noticed she’d received a text.

It was from Elly. “Are you comfortable? Can I bring you
anything? A drink? A snack? A blanket?”

Jada assured Elly she was fine. These people seriously
needed more guests to keep them busy. They were kind, though, and Jada wouldn’t
have hurt their feelings for the world.

She closed her eyes and crossed her hands over her stomach.
The peaceful sounds of nature lulled her, relaxed and quieted her busy mind.

She wondered how long she’d be staying at the lake cabin.
And she hoped, with a pleased kind of naughtiness, that Marina didn’t solve the
case of the fake marriage license too soon. The easy life might be overwhelming
at times, but mostly, it was seductively wonderful.

Like Ian’s eyes.

Oops. She didn’t know where that came from. He did have
lovely blue eyes, though. Funny how she guessed the color before she saw them.

She drifted off to sleep on that thought.

IAN PAUSED ON THE PATH to the lake. He could see part of
Jada from where he stood, stretched out and languid in one of the deck
loungers. He thought she might be asleep, but couldn’t see her eyes to be sure.

He felt silly, standing there uncertain of how to proceed.
Billy waited behind him, loaded down with fishing gear.

He didn’t want to disturb her, but he couldn’t just stand
there waiting to see if she were truly asleep or not. The situation left him
disoriented. If ever there were a man unaccustomed to indecision, it was Ian Buckley.
He’d built a pharaoh's fortune on the ability to make quick, smart decisions.

It shouldn’t have surprised him, though, since it had been a
day packed with the unusual and unlikely. He shouldn’t even be standing on the
path right then; he should have been back in the city, overseeing the
investigation into the marriage license debacle.

But he hadn’t managed to work for even a whole hour after
Jada had left. He wanted to see her again, ASAP, and there’d been no convincing
himself to wait any longer.

As a concession to appearances, he’d decided to drive out to
the lake cabin, rather than having the helicopter take him when it returned for
Jada’s cat and clothes. The last thing he wanted was to look eager, and the
drive would give him a chance to cool off.

Now, here he was, but he wasn’t any cooler. If anything, he
was worse than before. It was ridiculous, really, that a tiny woman like Jada
could have him unsure and hesitant.

He squared his shoulders and turned to Billy. “I’ll take
everything. You can go on your way. Thanks.”

“As you wish, Sir.” Billy handed over the rods and reels,
the tackle box, net, and the small cooler. He frowned at Ian’s overloaded arms.
“I don’t mind toting your stuff, Sir. That’s an awful lot and—”

Ian’s brows shot up. “Are you implying I’m too old and
feeble to carry my own fishing gear, young man?”

“Oh, Gawd, no. I didn’t mean that. I just meant ... never
mind. I’m on my way, Sir. Sorry.”

Ian grinned as he watched the kid beat a swift retreat up
the path. He shouldn’t have given poor Billy a hard time, but sometimes he
couldn’t help himself. It was good for him, anyway. Kept him on his toes.

Ian turned toward the dock again, not a hundred feet away.
Was Jada asleep? He straightened up. Only one way to find out.

He marched down the path and onto the dock, his soft-soled
shoes making little sound. As he came up beside Jada’s relaxed form, he skidded
to a halt. Sure enough, her eyes were closed. She was asleep. Damn.

He stood stock still. Now what? Well, if nothing else, he
could take advantage of the opportunity to look at her as long as he wanted.

She was lovely, her features peaceful and soft in sleep. She
had the tiniest smile on her full lips and he thought she must be dreaming
something pleasant. He eyed her graceful limbs, both arms and legs bare in the
warm sunshine, gleaming a golden, satiny brown in the afternoon light. She had
the softest-looking, most velvety skin that begged to be stroked.

He deliberately avoided looking at her chest, realizing he
was being kind of pervy as it was. Indeed, the notion of himself as a peeping
Tom didn’t suit him, so he decided the best thing for everyone involved was to
accidentally drop the tackle box.

The box landed on the wooden planks with a thud and a loud
jangle of interior contents. Jada’s eyes flew open and she jerked upright in
her seat. She looked down at the box, then up at Ian, confusion obvious on her
face.

“Sorry,” Ian said, slowly lowering the rest of the gear onto
the dock. “I guess I dropped the box. Sorry if I woke you.”

She smiled then, a wide, half-sleepy smile and dropped
against the back of the lounger. She stretched her arms over her head and
yawned. “Oh, it’s you. I was dreaming about you.”

“You were?”

“Yeah, I—” her expression changed and she dropped her arms,
sat upright. “What did I just say?”

“You said you were dreaming about me.”

“I did? How embarrassing. Well, I was still kind of asleep.
I wasn’t thinking right. Forget about that.”

“If you say so.” Ian gave her a roguish smile. “But I’d
rather remember if it’s all the same to you.”

She looked down at her lap, tugged on the hem of her shorts
self-consciously. “No. It’s best we both forget it.”

She was adorable, Ian thought. “Forget what?”

She tilted her head and gave him a sideways look. “I’m
surprised to see you. I didn’t know you were coming. I hope I’m not in your
way.”

He realized she was referring to the fishing gear. “No. I
was hoping you’d join me. Do you fish?”

She swiveled on the lounger, knees touching primly as she
perched on the side, eying the gear. “I do, sometimes. I’ll join you, but only
if there’s beer in that cooler.”

He bent down, popped open the lid and gestured to the
contents. “Your wish is my command.”

“Yeah, that’s apparently true for everyone at this place,”
she said drily.

“Staff been smothering you?”

“Yep. But I’m not complaining. They’re very nice. I blame
you, actually.”

“You do?”

“They’re motivated people who don’t have enough to do.
That’s your fault. You should send them more guests to care for.”

“I’ll think about it. Glad you’re here to set things
straight.”

Jada shrugged. “You’re welcome.”

“Now that you’ve got that squared away, shall we get going?”

“We’re not fishing here?”

“I thought we’d go out in a boat. I know all the good
spots.”

“It’s a bad time. They won’t be biting.”

“Hey. You do know something about fishing.”

Jada stood. “I’ll go in the boat, but you have to promise
not to get my new clothes wet or dirty. Deal?”

He scanned her head to toe. “I’ll do my best. You look very
pretty, by the way.”

She glanced down in embarrassment. “Thanks.”

Ian wanted to kick himself. He’d gone and made the situation
awkward. He tried to cover it by picking up the gear. Jada took the poles and
followed him in silence.

It was only a few moments before they were at the nearest
boat dock. Ian dropped his gear in one of the trim rowboats and relieved Jada
of the rods.

Jada took in the craft from bow to stern. “A rowboat?
Really? I expected a shiny speed boat with all the bells and whistles.”

He was glad to hear her teasing tone. “There’s not a speed
boat on the property, I’m sorry to say. We do have a few small motor boats, but
we don’t use them much. We keep the noise and stress on the fish and other
wildlife to a minimum.”

“You’re telling me you use rowboats so you don’t upset the
wildlife but you have a helicopter buzzing in and out of here all day?”

“Got me there. Though, usually there’s not quite so much use
of the helicopter.”

“Thanks, by the way, for sending my cat and getting me all
that stuff. I kind of don’t know what to say. It’s so generous, I—”

“Don’t say anything. I was happy to do it, and it was no
trouble.”

He held out his hand to help her into the boat and when she
touched him, he got the same jolt of electricity he’d gotten in his office that
morning. Part of him was excited by the repetition, another part warned him
that too much attraction could be dangerous.

Jada hardly used his assistance, stepping into the boat with
the balance of an old pro. He followed suit, untied from the dock and began
rowing them toward a favored fishing spot on the other side of the lake.

Jada sat ladylike and demure on the wooden bench in the
boat’s aft. Ian sat in the fore and pulled at the oars, trying not to stare at
the lovely woman.

“It’s so beautiful out here,” she said, looking past him
toward the far shore. “My parents would go crazy for it.”

“Your parents enjoy the outdoors?”

“We were always camping when I was growing up. When my
parents retired, they sold their house, bought a jalopy RV with some of the
funds, and headed out to see the country. Basically, they’re full-time campers
now.”

“So that’s why you’re an experienced fisher-woman who’s at
ease in a rowboat.”

“Yep.”

Ian worked the oars gently, in no hurry to get anywhere,
content to amble for a change, instead of rushing, his usual way.

“I don’t see any other houses along the shoreline.” She
squinted off into the distance.

“No, the lake and all the surrounding property is mine.”

“Wow. Mr. Forest said your grandfather left all this to
you.”

“That’s right, most of it. There were a few tracts of
lakeside property he still hadn’t been able to purchase before he passed away.
I’ve since bought the last ones.”

She glanced over her shoulder at the house. “I can’t believe
you call that a cabin. Is that rich folk speak, or what?”

He barked a short laugh. “No. Though I kind of wish it was
now. Actually, it’s part of the history of the property.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I don’t want to bore you with old family stories.”

“That’s okay. They’re my family now, too, remember?”

He laughed again. “That’s right. I keep forgetting.”

“Shame on you.” Her smile was bright enough to blind him.

“I apologize. Do you want to hear the story or not?”

“I said I did.”

He took a break from paddling and crossed the oars over his
lap, turning his full attention to his pretty companion. “My grandfather grew
up in the city. His father deserted the family when Grandfather was a small
child, and as a result, they were very poor. He quit school early to help
support his mother and siblings, worked hard, endlessly really, and eventually
opened his own business. Then he worked harder, built it up and opened more
businesses, and so on. He was a true American success story.”

“Whenever I hear a story like that, I marvel at the kind of
person it must take to overcome those kinds of hardships,” Jada said.

“I can tell you what kind. I spent my summers with him out
here when I was a child. Grandfather was a hard old bastard, tough and
ruthless, that’s what.”

“Oh, that’s disappointing.”

“Think about it, though. He had to be hard to get where he
got.”

“I suppose. It’s just kind of sad.”

Ian smiled gently. “Don’t be too sad. I’m not done with my
story yet.”

“Okay. Go on.”

“So, when my grandfather was experiencing his first
financial successes, he celebrated by purchasing a small lot outside of town
next to a lovely little lake that had yet to be discovered by moneyed city
people.”

“This place?”

“Right. It was a small lot, and over the next few years, on
whatever time he could spare away from business, he built a log cabin from
trees on the property that he felled himself. As time passed and he became even
more financially successful, he bought up adjoining lots. Eventually, he owned
a huge swath of land that nearly encircled the lake.”

“And what was left, you later bought,” Jada said.

“That’s right. Unlike a lot of successful businessmen,
Grandfather Buckley set a monetary goal he wanted to reach with his businesses,
and when he finally hit it, he promptly sold out and retired. He was around
sixty years old then. He moved out here permanently, and began transforming the
property into what you see today.”

“Did he enjoy working out here?”

“He loved it. He told me that he’d always thought the
measure of a man’s success depended on his ability to carve out his own niche
in the world while having the power to tell anyone who tried to keep him from
it to go straight to hell.”

“Good one,” Jada said.

“So back to you being sorry he was a tough man. Well, look
around the place. He made this happen, the docks, the paths, the bubbling
brooks, the conservation efforts, and yes, the huge house over there. Whenever
I take a moment to appreciate the place, I’m reminded that there can be
fanciful romanticism in even the hardest, most ruthless of men.”

Jada’s eyes glistened and she slowly looked around the
shoreline and toward the house. “You’re right. He was a romantic at heart,
wasn’t he?”

“One of the biggest, in part of it, anyway.”

She smiled at him. “I’m not sad anymore.”

“Good, because he lived a long, happy life and on his own
terms for most of it. And he died surrounded by family who loved him even
though he could be a mean old bastard. The rest of us should be so lucky.”

Ian picked up the oars and began leisurely rowing again.

“That was a great story,” Jada said.

“Thank you.”

“Is it actually true?”