The Reckless Secret, Complete Series (An Alpha Billionaire In Love BBW Romance) (20 page)

H
er mom had been
sorry to see her go. “I’ve really enjoyed having you with us,” she said soppily in the hotel lobby, pushing Maggie’s hair out of her eyes and smiling in a sort of wet fashion at her.

“I need to get back to my life,” Maggie said. She pulled her mom into a squeeze. “But thank you. This has been such a help.”

She promised to call as soon as she landed, and then accepted Simon’s kiss on the cheek before heading out to the town car her mom insisted she take to the airport.

The flight was long, and Maggie was too full of nervous adrenaline to sleep much. She couldn’t stop thinking about seeing everyone—Ash, Cami…Grant…

Declan…

Even the thought of seeing Dr. Stevens again made her a bit anxious. They hadn’t communicated since she’d asked for a leave of absence to go to London. Their heart-to-heart conversation in the meeting room that day hadn’t been referenced since, and she wondered if he was as embarrassed as she was at the open display of honesty they’d given each other.

By the time her flight landed, she’d had maybe an hour’s sleep in total, and she’d worked herself up into such a frenzy of nerves that she’d pretty much cancelled it out, and she now felt like a zombie walking through baggage claim.

There was a suited man waiting for her in arrivals, holding up a plastic card with her name on. “Ms. Emerson?”

Maggie blinked at him, over-tiredness making everything seem surreal. “Yes.”

“Follow me, please.”

“What’s going on?”

“Your friend sent a car to collect you.”

“Oh…”

The car, of course, was a limo, because why would Cami ever do anything by half measures? The windows were blacked out, muting the midday sun outside, and ten minutes into the drive, Maggie’s eyes started forcing themselves shut, and she let herself drift off, mind pleasantly numb for once…

When she woke up, she knew, instinctively, that a lot of time had passed—way more than the distance from the airport to her apartment.

She sat up blinking, feeling the car rumble to a stop, and was about to ask the driver what the hell was going on, vaguely concerned she was stepping into a horror film, when her door swung open.

Declan.

He was like an angel, standing there, with the sunlight beaming down on him, looking at her with dazzling eyes, his face cut in perfect lines and his hand outstretched, offering.

Maggie forgot how to breathe.

In a daze, she took his hand, letting him help her out of the car—which chose that moment to drive off quietly, leaving her alone here. With Declan.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured, a slight tremor to his voice.

“I look like I’ve just slept in the back of a car for five hours after a transatlantic flight,” she retorted, smoothing down her hair nervously, heart hammering, throat swelling, blood rushing and God,
God
, Declan was here.

His smile, when he managed it, was wobbly. “You’re always beautiful to me.”

She couldn’t—she couldn’t look right at him. Couldn’t cope. Needed a moment to compose herself and—

Oh my God
.

She was at the cabin. His family cabin in the woods that he’d brought her to for the most romantic two days of her life.

She swallowed, but it was no use. The tears were coming.

“What’s going on?” she asked thickly, and then watched with her heart lodged in her throat as he released her hand, brushed a hand over his face, and then got down on one knee.

“Oh my God,” she said, near hysterical. “Oh my God, Declan. What are you doing?”

She still couldn’t remember how to breathe. What the hell was this? Was she—was this a dream? This couldn’t be happening. There was no way she was looking at Declan Archibald, in front of this romantic cabin, on his knee for her.

She needed a drink.

She needed him to speak.

“Maggie,” he said brokenly, then he swallowed and cleared his throat, and she could feel his nerves like a brand. “I’ve hurt you,” he continued, stronger this time. “I betrayed you. I don’t deserve one ounce of your trust or affection ever again. But I’m asking for it anyway. Because I love you.” He took her hands, holding them warmly in his. “I’m always going to love you. There will never be anyone else for me. You’re everything.”

She was crying already. She knew she was. Her eyes wet and tingling, her throat a swollen mess of emotion. “Declan…”

“I’ll spend my whole life loving you how you deserve to be loved, cherishing you, treating you like the most important thing in the world. Because you are,” he said. “To me, you are. And I’m so sorry.” He brought the back of one hand to his mouth, pressed his lips there, eyes closing for a moment before looking up at her again. “Maggie, I’m sorry. I am. It was never my intention to hurt you, and I’ve hated myself every day since—”

“No.” She didn’t want that. God, she
never
wanted that. She didn’t hate him—far from it; the complete opposite, in fact—so the last thing she wanted was for him to hate himself.

It broke her heart to think about it.

“I’m on my knees now,” he said, “hoping for your forgiveness. For your love.” He paused, swallowed again, and there was something like an electric spark in this moment, an anticipation… He released one of her hands and reached into his pocket, and from it he pulled out a small, blue box. “For your hand.”

Her head was spinning, her free hand flying to cover her mouth as everything within her crashed together in pure elation. Pure
love
. “Oh my God…”

He took a breath and looked her steadily in the eye. “Maggie Emerson, will you do me the honor of giving me another chance? And of being my wife?” And then he opened the box to reveal the most perfect, shimmering, yet understated diamond ring.

This was a dream come true. This was everything she’d been fantasizing about in her wildest, loneliest moments in London. She couldn’t believe she was actually standing here, with Declan Archibald proposing to her. That he loved her enough to give her his whole life.

Her heart had expanded so much, she didn’t know how it still fit in her chest.

She drew in some air to compose herself enough to speak.

“You betrayed me,” she said shakily, watching his face splinter a little. “I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to get past it. But these four weeks have been so hard.” She fell to her own knees, level with him, his eyes widening. Took his face in her hands and sobbed through a smile. “Being without you is torture. I love you. And I want to trust that you’d never lie to me again—”

“I won’t,” he said, pressing his hand against one of hers on his face. “God, I won’t. I swear on my life, I’ll never hurt you again.”

She sniffed, laughed, giddy with joy. “I want you in my life forever. I can’t deny it. I don’t
want
to deny it. You’re the man for me, Declan Archibald. You always will be.” She leaned forward, rested her forehead against his, looked at his watering eyes and then shut her own, smiling so deeply she could feel it in her very soul. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

She found herself swept up on her feet, in his arms, his face buried in her neck and then his searing kiss on her lips.

“I love you,” he said into the kiss. “God, I love you.”

When he finally let her breathe, she couldn’t help but laugh as he slid the ring onto her finger. Perfect fit. “Aunt Connie’s gonna be
thrilled
when she hears about this wedding.” This was better than her own daughter’s. Maggie, marrying an Archibald? She’d take out a full-page ad in the society pages.

“She’ll be furious she missed it,” Declan said, an odd note in his voice.

Maggie blinked at him. “What?”

Declan winced, giving her an expression that quite clearly said
don’t get mad
. “I’ve been thinking of wedding dates…” he said cautiously. “Hoping, you know.” Then he gulped and squeezed her hand, his thumb fiddling with the engagement ring. “How do you feel about…now?”

Maggie’s whole mind went completely blank. “Now?”

And suddenly, making her jump near out of her skin, the front door of the cabin burst open and Cami and Ashley rushed out, running towards her with twin grins splitting their faces.

“Oh my God, Maggie!”

“We’ve got your dress, makeup, everything—”

“I’m sorry I lied about the birthday party thing, we just didn’t know how else to get you here—”

“Everything’s set up, exactly how you’d like it—”

“It’s
so
beautiful, oh my God—”

“Whoa, whoa…” Maggie raised her hands, preventing the girls from throwing themselves at her, her stomach doing a very slow somersault at what she
thought
was happening right now… But no, he couldn’t be serious. Could he? “What’s going on?”

The girls’ grins slipped into grimaces of anxiety, and Declan took her hands again, pulled her around to look at him. “I want to marry you today,” he said fiercely, his eyes bright and shining for her. “I don’t want to wait.”

“I—” Maggie couldn’t think, couldn’t
comprehend…
Was she absolutely sure this wasn’t all a dream?

“How?” she asked, at a total loss for what else to say.

“Here,” he said. “Around the back.” Then he licked his lips in a nervous gesture and tried a smile on for size. “We’ve been making arrangements for days.”

“You planned a whole wedding, brought me here… What would you’ve done if I said no?”

“Cried,” piped up Ashley. “Big ugly man-tears.”

He paid her no mind, kept his attention firmly on Maggie. “What d’you say?” he asked her quietly.

There wasn’t one single part of her that wanted to say no.

A rush of pure, bright, overwhelming excitement flooded every corner of her body, and she couldn’t help but stutter out a giddy laugh.

“Yes,” she said, and Declan’s face lit up like Christmas. “Oh my God, yes! I can’t believe this.”

She didn’t get a chance to bask in the glow of her shared happiness with Declan, because the girls lassoed her with their arms and started dragging her away, chatting excitedly.

“Come and take a look at everything—

“Honestly, Mags, it’s so perfect—”

“She’ll meet you down the aisle in a couple hours, Decl—”

She was suddenly yanked back, out of the girls’ arms, and right into Declan’s chest. “Not so fast,” he murmured, then brought her into a deep, searching kiss that made her feel like she was floating.

“Now, now,” she whispered to him a moment later, her skin tingling where he’d slipped his fingers beneath her shirt, “I only kiss my husband like that.”

His eyes twinkled. “He’s a lucky man.”

“Ugh, come on,” Ashley said, bulldozing in and sweeping Maggie away. “She’ll be all yours in a while, Declan, and oh, by the way, we’re commandeering the second bedroom. We’ve got everything set up in there,” she added as an aside to Maggie. “Brought all your makeup and everything up from the city.”

But Maggie wasn’t listening. She was too busy gazing over her shoulder at Declan, feeling entirely lovestruck by the look of total adoration in his eyes as he watched her go.

She was so high up on cloud nine billion, that the bump of crashing back down to earth at what awaited her inside the cabin was enough to punch the breath out of her.

Grant was standing in the middle of the living room, his hands in the pockets of his suit, his face shadowed and unsure as he looked at her.

“Hey, sis,” he said cautiously, and it was like Ashley and Cami disappeared, and nothing else existed except her brother, now, looking at her like he expected nothing but savagery in her greeting.

He looked better.
So
much better. Like the brother she knew, the one she loved—the one who would never try to hurt her.

The Grant Emerson who existed before the pills took him over and controlled his life.

“Hello,” she said, or at least tried to—the word caught in her throat, hitched on a sob, because she’d missed him so much it hurt to even think about it. She’d worried about him, kept herself awake long into the nights, so scared he wouldn’t be able to get better, that he was in pain, that he needed her and she’d abandoned him.

He recognized the break in her voice and his face crumpled, and she rushed to him, hurried across the room, him striding forward to meet her in the middle and they crashed together in an all-encompassing hug that had her crying into his shoulder.

“Maggie, I’m so sorry—”

“No,” she muttered, holding him tightly. “No. We’re not doing that.” She sniffed and pulled back, her hands on his shoulders, looked into his healthy face. “You’re okay?”

“I am,” he said thickly, bringing a hand up to rub one eye. “I really think I am.”

“Then that’s all that matters.”

She was ready to put it all behind her now. To move on. It happened, and it had pained her so deeply, but no one had acted out of any kind of intention to hurt her. One had been governed by a vicious addiction, and the other had been stuck between two impossible solutions. They both loved her, and she—them, more than she could ever put into words. And nothing else held any significance.

They would put it to bed now, and today she would marry the man she loved, with her beloved brother by her side. And she would be the happiest woman in the whole world.

I
t had
, of course, been perfect. The girls had been left to decide everything on Maggie’s behalf—the dress, the hair, the makeup, the jewelry. Even her lingerie had been chosen by Cami.

They’d locked themselves away in the second bedroom—although Maggie wasn’t entirely sure why they couldn’t use the main bedroom, suspecting perhaps that the groomsmen had commandeered it. The second bedroom was beautiful, though, with old wood and lace, a pale blue décor and an antique dresser that made Maggie feel like a princess as she sat before it.

The dress was exactly as she’d imagined her wedding dress would be—Vera Wang, elegant, long lines, and not a pouf in sight. Both girls gasped as she stepped out into the room wearing it, a mid-length veil atop her teased hair, a teardrop necklace complementing the diamond flashing on her finger. Ashley even cried a little.

With another hour to kill, they sipped champagne and Maggie got them to fill her in on the past few days, how Declan had pulled all of this together, got them all rallied around. Until they were interrupted by a knock on the door, and Maggie’s jaw hit the floor as her mother swept in.

“Surprise!” she trilled gaily, whipping Maggie and the girls into a whirlwind of hugs and kisses.

“Mom—what—”

“I was on the same flight as you,” her mom said, laughing, grabbing a random champagne glass from the dresser. “Made sure you didn’t see us. We were in coach!” She seemed weirdly proud of this fact—and it explained why her mom had been so adamant Maggie fly first class back to the States.

“God, Mom, I don’t know what to say.” She was tearing up again, and the girls started flapping around her, panicking about her eye makeup.

The ceremony itself…Maggie had no words. Cami had listened, that day in the staff room at work, and Maggie and Declan said their vows at twilight in the woodland clearing, with flickering pillar candles around them, a small collection of their closest friends and family surrounding their bubble of happiness. Declan stumbled over his words, emotion getting the better of him, and it made Maggie cry again and then her mom was crying, and the ceremony had to take a pause while everyone had a little chuckle at the romanticism of it all.

“Wait, wait,” Declan said hours later, mid-laugh, in that funny, hushed sort of drunken voice everyone did when trying to be inconspicuous. “I need to carry you through.”

They’d somehow made it to the end of the evening and everyone had left in various stages of drunkenness—Ashley with Declan’s friend Preston, and wasn’t
that
going to be a story Maggie wanted to hear about in the morning. Now it was just the two of them, here at some time around three A.M., with the soft glow of the house around them and a wedding band each on their ring fingers. Maggie could’ve died of happiness.

Instead, she snorted. “Okay, you are too drunk and I’m too heavy for that to be a possibility.”

Declan made a noise that sounded something like “Pffsshaw” and made Maggie hiccup another laugh, and then he bent to hook an arm beneath her legs. “C’mon.”

“Whoa, hold on,
no
.”

“It’s fine, we’ve got this.”

She stared at him. “You’re gonna regret it.”

“See this?” he said, flexing his arms and showing off his guns. “You married all man, baby.”

“Oh my God.”

He flashed her a grin. “I’m kidding. You weigh nothing. I’ve had you on top of me
many
times and the only thing I felt—”

“All right, shut up.” She blushed a little. “Go ahead then,” she said sort of mock grumpily, throwing her arms wide in invitation.

He wiggled his eyebrows, stooped low, and swept her up in his arms so smoothly and with such ease, wearing a wicked smirk and sparkling eyes, that Maggie probably would’ve swooned, if she hadn’t been too busy getting aroused.

“Wow,” she murmured.

He winked. “Oh yeah.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Take me to bed,” she said in her most sultry voice.

“Uh, you need to get the door first.”

“Oh. Right.”

She unhooked her arms from around his neck, mildly embarrassed, and reached down to open the door. And then gasped when he carried her over the threshold.

It wasn’t her first time in this room, having spent those couple of days with him here before, but back then it didn’t look like this. Candles, silk, petals… “This is amazing.”

“I’m gonna be honest,” Declan said, blinking around the room and still showing absolutely no strain at holding her up for this long, “I had no idea it’d be like this.”

“Cami and Ashley?”

“Probably.”

“Well, I love it,” Maggie said. “Although those petals look like they might be a bit inconvenient…”

Declan stared over at the bed. “Yeah, let’s get those off,” he agreed, before plonking her down on her feet and helping her sweep the petals off the bedspread.

Not the most romantic start to their wedding night, Maggie had to admit, although just being here with Declan… She looked up at him from across the bed and found him gazing at her, his eyes full of warmth.

She felt shy all of a sudden.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said, smiling softly. “Just….you’re my wife.”

Her stomach did a pleasant squirm. “Yeah, I am.”

“How’d I get so lucky?” he asked with a fluttering breath.

She narrowed her eyes at him playfully, even as butterflies spread through her torso and her heart kicked up a gear. “You drunk?”

“Oh, very,” he said, making her laugh. Then his face straightened, and he said with breathtakingly open sincerity, “But I’m also completely in love with you.” He put one knee on the bed. “Mrs. Archibald,” he added, crooking a finger at her as he crawled to the center.

She feigned coyness. “You are?”

“Mmm-hmm.” He reached out and grabbed the front of her dress, yanking her close so she had to lean forward over the bed and brace her hands on it for balance. “And you’re going to let me show you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. Then to the other corner—“Show you hard…”—and to the edge of her jaw—“Show you deep…”—over the flutter of her pulse—“Until you’re begging me…”

She drew in a shaky breath, tangled her fingers in his hair. “I don’t beg.”

In one sudden, smooth move, he looped an arm around her waist, pulled her onto the bed, flat on her back, and lowered himself on top of her. “You’ll beg,” he promised, and then kissed her breath away.

She lost herself in it for minutes, in the slick sweep of his tongue in her mouth, the rumbling groans in his chest as she intensified the kiss and pulled him closer, bent her legs to let him fall between her thighs.

Then he slipped one hand up beneath her and unzipped the party dress she’d changed into after the wedding, pulled it apart and kissed the skin as he revealed it.

“I can’t believe,” he said, dropping the dress on the floor and then pausing to look at her, “that I get to have this for the rest of my life.”

She tried to press her thighs together, put some pressure on her aching pussy, heat seeping through her groin at his open inspection of her. “How about you concentrate on having it now,” she said, with an attempt at keeping her voice level.

He smirked. “That sounded a little like begging to me.”

“Shut up,” she said, reaching for his tie. “And come here.”

“Hmm.” He resisted her pull, remained kneeling. “Maybe I’ll wait.”

“You know, it’s not too late to annul this marriage.”

He laughed. “All right, point taken.” He fell forward, kissed her smiling mouth, then murmured, “How do you want me?”

She expected to blush; she expected to feel shy. But her need for this man was too strong, and instead she swallowed and said, “Down.”

His mouth twisted in a smirk of pleasure in the moment before he slithered down her body.

She gasped in anticipation, spread her legs wide, twisted her fingers in the bedsheets and curved her back off the mattress as he pulled her wet panties aside and tongued her throbbing clit.

“Oh God, Declan,” she said breathlessly, and he hummed against her, causing a shock of pleasure to shoot through her groin.

He took her to the very edge, in those minutes; worked her clit until she was a trembling mess, moments from begging, sobbing out her moans and yanking on the bedsheets and clamping her thighs around his head. He didn’t use his fingers, but he didn’t need to—his attention on her swollen clit was enough, got her strung up high enough that she could scream with it, staring down at him working her over, and there was something deliciously filthy about it, of him fully dressed, holding her panties aside, face buried in her sopping-wet pussy…

She cried out as a wave of near-bliss rolled through her, as her sex spasmed, as she came inches from orgasm…and then he stopped, and she whimpered, reaching for him, trying to press his face back against her.

“Patience,” he groaned in a voice thick with arousal, and all of a sudden, he flipped her onto her belly, took the skin of her shoulder between his teeth for an instant before pulling on her hips, bringing her up onto her knees. “Stay like that,” he instructed darkly, then the sound of material ripping filled the room, the remnants of her panties hitting the floor beside the bed…her bra unhooking, falling away…two fingers, suddenly and without warning, burying deep inside her pussy…

“Good girl,” he said, thrusting those fingers in and out of her at a steady, deep pace. “My beautiful wife.” She moaned, pushed her face down in the bedspread, took his assault on her sex as she listened to the sounds of his clothes rustling…

Then she felt the unmistakable press of his cock against her, and she whimpered, spread her legs wider, her anticipation of it lighting her up on the inside.

But he didn’t push into her, not yet. He removed his fingers and rubbed the head of his cock through her folds, up and down, over her clit, until she’d soaked him with her juices and her hips were shaking, and she was so desperate to be filled that she sobbed and said, “Please, Declan…” and wasn’t even irritated that he’d made her beg in the end, she’d beg for hours if she had to—

“Shh,” he said, reaching forward to gather her hair and drape it over one shoulder. He leaned down, kissed the side of her exposed neck, fondled her breasts as he teased her pussy with his bare cock. His skin was burning heat, his movements a little stilted, obvious signs that he was as affected as she was…barely holding onto his control…

“I need to go get something,” he whispered to her, lips against her throat. “I’ll be right back.”

“No.” She grabbed his wrist, held him close against her, heart hammering as her mind spun. “No.” It was a knee-jerk decision, but one she wanted so badly. “Don’t…”

He hesitated. “You don’t want me to use—”

“No,” she said again, like a mantra. “Declan, please.” She squeezed her eyes shut, pushed her hips back against him, made him bite off a groan.

“You know what this might mean,” he said, his voice strained and raw, and she nodded.

She knew it, and there wasn’t one single part of her that wanted to prevent it. If they created something out of this night, if they ever created something so special together, she’d be the happiest woman alive.

“Please,” she whispered again, and he drew in a deep, shuddery breath.

“God, I love you,” he said fiercely, then pulled her face to the side so he could press a bruising kiss to her mouth.

Then he released her lips, lined himself up, and entered her.

The bareness of it, the rawness, took her breath away, and she found herself hurtling towards the edge with barely any movement from him. She’d never felt so close to someone, so connected, so deeply ingrained in the existence of another person, and she couldn’t control her emotions, her feelings, her
pleasure
…

He rocked into her with stuttering thrusts and held her tight, his own moans choking out of him, and she had to hold the headboard, hold onto
something
, pleasure spiraling higher and higher within her and making her sob with it, real tears falling from her eyes at the perfection of this moment, joined so intensely with the man she loved—

Orgasm hit her like a freight train, and she screamed, clenched the headboard, heard him somewhere in the vague edges of her consciousness as he joined her in this moment of ecstasy, his hips jolting as pleasure overtook him, as she floated on a crest of bliss, tumbled over it and collapsed, shuddering, breathless.

He took her hand, shaking, linking their fingers together, and their wedding rings connected. A symbol of their unity, of their lives shared forever.

Maggie didn’t even know it was possible to be so happy, and her heart swelled with emotional joy as Declan pulled her close into the curve of his body, still buried inside her, still connected so deeply, and murmured, “I love you, Mrs. Archibald.”

“
H
ey
, Cami,” Ashley said, leaning over the counter of the nurses’ station. “It’s slow right now. Why don’t you go ahead and take your lunch break?”

Cami glanced at her watch and was surprised to find that it was already after noon. She was over halfway through her ten-hour shift and well past due for a break. The Emergency Room of Sacred Heart Hospital, where Cami Hendricks worked as a nurse, had been unusually busy for a Tuesday morning, and the time had gotten away from her.

“Sure,” Cami said with a smile, knowing that Ashley wouldn’t be able to take her own break until after Cami had returned from hers. “I won’t need the full half-hour. I’m just going to grab a snack and a protein bar.”

“No need to rush!” Ashley called from behind her as Cami made her way towards the staff locker rooms. “And you’ll need more than a protein bar to make it ‘til five. Take your time.”

Cami nodded absentmindedly before turning the corner. In the locker room, she grabbed her purse and immediately checked her phone. As a single mother of a three-year-old, Cami was always worried about her daughter. If it wasn’t against hospital policy, she’d keep her cell with her at all times in case of an emergency.