Page 81 of Misdeeds of a Billionaire

“I—I can’t move in with you.” Then she straightened her shoulders, fixing me with a glare. “I won’t move in with you.”

“Why not?”

That stubborn tilt to her chin came back. That same one that could drive me wild and crazy at the same time.

“I don’t want to.”

She let out an exasperated breath. “Because I have other people that depend on me. My sister and my—” She hesitated for a moment. “My son.”

Bingo.

“They can move in with us,” I assured her. “My place is big enough.”

The gold in her eyes shimmered, drowning out all the hazel, and I could see her brain working it all out. Weighing the pros and cons. Looking for her way out. There wasn’t one.

I was her only lifeline.

“Fine.” Her sigh was soft, exasperated. Defeated. “Help me get those diamond smugglers off my back, and I’ll marry you.” Relief, unlike anything I’d even felt before, rushed through me. This was what I wanted, above all else. Now more than ever. She’d be my wife, and our son would finally have both parents—like he should have from the beginning of his life. And I wouldn’t risk any chances that something would change that outcome. Not with her. Not with our son. “A longer engagement will be prudent.”

“You’ll marry me today,” I told her calmly. I’d waited six fucking years, I wasn’t about to wait another minute longer.

Above all else, I wanted Odette Madeline Swan as my wife.

And this time, she wouldn’t slip through my fingers.

Chapter33

Odette

The media referred to him as a heartless billionaire who ruled his empire with a cool head and an even colder heart.

I could see the ruthless part. The calculating aura he had. But never cold. Everything about Byron screamed passion. A single glance his way had me melting like the polar ice caps. A single touch and I was putty under his expert hands.

Bottom line, Byron Ashford was another heartbreak waiting to happen. My beautiful disaster. And unfortunately, my best bet at staying alive.

Locking gazes with his blue eyes, I tried to figure out his angle and failed. He had one, I was sure of it. But what? He didn’t have to marry me to have my body. I made that perfectly clear. Yet, he insisted on it.

I knew from his father and his fiancée—apparently she never graduated to being Byron’s wife—that I didn’t fit in their circles. I wasn’t good enough to marry a future president’s son.

Well, the joke was on Senator Ashford, wasn’t it? The old man was still not president. If his election hung in the air by a single vote and my vote was a determining factor for him winning the election, he’d be screwed.

Byron stared at me, calculatingly, refusing to give me a reprieve. I was only ready to give him my body. He wanted a lot more. Way more.

Freedom was within my grasp, but so were the chains. Chains of love? More likely lust. And lust didn’t last. I’d be bound by the shackles of a loveless marriage.

I didn’t want that. Seeing firsthand what our parents had, my sister and I always refused to settle for less. Our goal was to have it all or none of it.

“I don’t want to marry you.” Six years ago, it would have been a different story. Back then, I was a blind, infatuated woman in love. Thanks to his father, the blinders fell off and my heart was broken. I wouldn’t repeat the same mistake. I refused to go down the same road again with him.

Byron smiled coldly. “That’s what makes you perfect for this marriage of convenience.”

I blinked, confused. “Huh?”

The concept was foreign, although I knew what it meant. It was just mind-boggling that anyone even did that anymore.

“Marriage of convenience,” he repeated. “You get something you need, and I get something I want.”

The look in his eyes told me he was serious.