Page 8 of My Horrible Arranged Marriage (Bancroft Billionaire Brothers #20)

ISAAC

I couldn’t stop smiling. It was ridiculous, really.

Me. Smiling like some idiot in one of those ads for a dating site because a girl made me laugh and kissed me like she wanted to set the whole damn city on fire.

And damn, that kiss. It would have been so easy to fuck her right there on that couch. She wanted it.

I couldn’t get Mina Duvall out of my head.

I had been replaying last night over and over in my head since I walked her to the car. The feel of her body against mine. The taste of her mouth. The way she’d looked at me with those gorgeous eyes, all heat and hunger.

What the hell had I been thinking, stopping like that?

I’d never walked away from a beautiful woman who was practically begging me to take her. Never. That was not my style. I was the guy who made the walk of shame at dawn with a satisfied smirk, not the one who called a car and sent her home untouched.

But something about Mina had gotten under my skin. When I looked at her on that couch, flushed and wanting, I knew I didn’t want a one-night stand that we’d both regret in the morning. I wanted more.

Which was insane. This whole setup was a business arrangement.

A deal between our fathers. A favor being repaid.

It wasn’t supposed to be real. But that’s exactly what I was thinking about.

Sex with her was sanctioned. Maybe that was the problem.

I wasn’t used to basically being told to take a woman to bed.

My brain didn’t know how to handle the change.

My rebellious streak was so deeply ingrained, I felt like I had to go against everything I was told to do.

My dad wanted me to use my infamous charm to get Mina to want me.

That was easy. But wrong. I wanted her but I didn’t want her because my dad and her father were telling me to want her.

“Fuck,” I groaned and rolled out of bed.

I was staying at the estate. I had a penthouse in the city, but I knew there was going to be a debrief after last night. And I liked it out here at the estate. It was peaceful. I showered, dressed, and headed downstairs. I could hear Kathy talking to someone in the kitchen.

When I walked in, I was greeted by the smell of rich coffee and something sweet and doughy. Then I spotted the fresh pastries on a plate. My stomach growled.

“Morning,” I said, reaching for the largest pastry on the plate. “Did you make these?”

“Of course,” Kathy confirmed, sliding a mug of coffee toward me. “Your father’s been up since dawn.”

I took a large bite, savoring the buttery sweetness. “Let me guess—he’s waiting to interrogate me about last night.”

“Interrogate is such a harsh word,” my father said, appearing in the doorway like he’d been summoned. He looked annoyingly well rested, dressed in golf attire. “I prefer ‘debrief.’”

I rolled my eyes. “Same difference.”

Dad poured himself coffee, eyeing me over the rim of his mug. “Meet me in my study.”

“Let him finish his breakfast,” Kathy chided.

I flashed Dad a smile. It was kind of cool having a stepmom. My father rolled his eyes, snatched a pastry, and walked out of the kitchen with Kathy lecturing him about having seconds. I liked that she was looking out for him. He needed someone to take care of him.

I took my time enjoying my breakfast.

“You’ve stalled long enough,” Kathy said.

I groaned. “You think?”

She shooed me out of the kitchen. “Go. Talk to your father.”

I winked at her. “Thank you for the brief reprieve.”

I carried my cup of coffee to my father’s study. I sat down in one of the leather armchairs. My father was sitting on his couch reading the newspaper.

“You’re in a good mood,” Dad said after he put down the paper.

I shrugged one shoulder, playing it cool even though the stupid grin kept tugging at the corner of my mouth. “The date went well.”

“ Well , huh? That’s not the word I expected.”

“What word did you expect?” I challenged, stretching my arms over my head with a satisfied groan. “Disaster? Trainwreck?”

He smirked. “Yes. I expected to hear you complain and bitch about how unfair it was that you had to go out with her.”

“Nope. No complaints. I had fun.” More fun than I should’ve had, if I was being honest.

Mina Duvall was supposed to be a charity case.

A favor to my father. A way to clean up my image and set myself on the path Dad kept promising would lead to my real life—the one where I wasn’t just a Bancroft heir or a charming idiot, but someone with actual influence.

Someone respected. Someone worth something.

Instead, last night had been one of the best nights I had in a long time. She was fun. She didn’t put on airs or bitch about every little thing. Mina wasn’t pretentious or obnoxious like a lot of the other women in our social circles.

“Sounds terrible ,” Dad said dryly. He leaned back and laced his hands behind his head. “Harder ways to earn the career of your dreams than dating a beautiful woman, Isaac.”

I tapped my fingers against the side of my coffee cup and muttered, “Yeah. No shit.”

“So,” he continued casually, “I talked to Hectar this morning. He’s planning some huge summer party. Wants you and Mina to organize it together.”

I stared at him. “You’re joking.”

“Nope.” His grin widened. “You’re in charge of planning a party.”

“I don’t plan parties,” I said flatly. “I go to parties. I ruin parties. That’s my entire brand. I don’t know the first thing about planning a party.” The idea was absurd.

“Well, consider this a rebrand.” He stood up, smoothing the sleeves of his shirt like this was just another day of work, like he hadn’t just upended my entire week. “Think of it as a collaborative opportunity. Bonding time. You need to look like a team. Like a future power couple.”

I rolled my eyes so hard my head tilted back. “Who gives a shit if we’re collaborative? It’s all fake anyway.”

Dad’s smile faded. “It’s not fake, Isaac. This is real. It’s happening. You may as well accept it.”

I looked at him, eyebrows raised.

He held my gaze without flinching. “In the end, you’re going to marry that girl. You agreed to this. So maybe start acting like it’s real.”

A knot tightened in my chest. Marriage .

That word and I did not go together. I honestly thought he was joking when he suggested I marry her. I assumed he was testing me. I went on the date. That should have been the end of it.

“Dad, come on,” I said. “This is not the Stone Age. You can’t do arranged marriages. I’m not a cow or a prized stud. And she’s not… well, you get the point.”

“It’s not an arranged marriage,” Dad said. “It’s a strategic partnership.”

“That’s just another term for arranged marriage,” I snapped, running a hand through my hair.

Dad sighed. “Isaac, your entire life has been about rebelling. Whatever I say, you do the opposite. I tell you to go to Harvard, you go to Princeton. I tell you to study business, you study art. I tell you to come to board meetings, you go to Ibiza.”

“That’s not?—”

“Let me finish,” he cut me off. “For once in your life, I need you to listen. This isn’t just about you, or even about Mina. Hectar saved our family once. He’s calling in that debt.”

I stood up, suddenly too restless to sit. “So sell him a company. Give him a piece of Bancroft Construction. Hell, give him a fat check. But don’t ask me to marry someone just to settle a debt.”

“It’s not like that and you know it,” Dad said. “Hectar genuinely wants his daughter happy. He thinks you could be the one to do that. And honestly? After seeing you this morning, I’m starting to think he might be right.”

I scoffed and shook my head. “One decent date doesn’t mean we’re soulmates.”

“No, but it’s a start,” Dad said quietly. “Look, I didn’t expect you to enjoy her company. I thought you’d go, be polite, and complain the whole time. But you’re different this morning.”

“I’m not different.”

“You are. You’re smiling. You had fun with her.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. The worst part was, he wasn’t wrong. I had enjoyed myself more than I’d expected. But that didn’t mean I was ready to pick out china patterns.

“The party planning starts next week,” Dad said, his tone making it clear the discussion was over. “Hectar will have his assistant send over the details.”

“Great,” I muttered. “Can’t wait.”

“We need to establish some ground rules,” Dad added. “No more hookups. No public flirtations. No scandals.”

I stared at him like he’d just sprouted another head. “Seriously?”

“You’re going to be an engaged man soon enough. Time to start acting like one.” He tapped the side of his head. “Optics, son. Optics. Hectar Duvall is not a man I want to make an enemy of. If you disrespect his daughter with your philandering, he’ll consider it a personal insult.”

I scowled. He wasn’t wrong. He was never wrong. That was the most annoying thing about him.

“And if I play nice,” I muttered, “I get my shot.”

He nodded. Finally, a real position in my brother’s firm.

Not just the charming younger son who got trotted out at cocktail hours and fundraisers.

No one thought I was serious about anything.

Hudson and Zayn were leery of letting me work with them.

They were afraid I would ruin the firm’s good name.

They were all about reputation. They ran a nonprofit that helped those suffering from addiction.

Actual responsibility. Actual legacy. A life of my own making.

I drained the last of my coffee, feeling the bitter taste burn all the way down. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll play house.”

Dad smiled like the smug bastard he was and clapped me on the back. “Atta boy.”

I needed air. And food. And maybe a different life. But one thing at a time.

It was time to go home. Back to the city. Back to my penthouse.

I grabbed my keys and headed out toward the circular drive of the estate, shielding my eyes against the late morning sun. I was halfway into my car when a flash of white caught my eye at the front gate.

A sleek white SUV, the kind that cost more than some people’s houses, rolled to a stop. Tinted windows. New York plates. Familiar as hell.

I leaned against my open car door and waited, arms crossed as the SUV rolled up the driveway. The window slid down as the SUV pulled up beside me.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” I said.

My brother Kent grinned at me over the tops of his ridiculous designer sunglasses.

I barked a laugh. “Yeah, you’re gonna need more than one gift for no-showing at Dad and Kathy’s wedding.”

Kent shrugged, unbothered as always. “They’ll forgive me when they see what I got them.”

I arched an eyebrow. “What, a yacht? Another personal chef? This thing?”

He just laughed and pulled off his sunglasses. His green eyes—so much like mine, only a shade more mischievous. “You’ll see. I’m gonna be the prodigal son by dinnertime.”

“Yeah, well, good luck with that. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Where are you going?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes. “I have to go kiss ass. My future fiancée’s father.”

Kent looked shocked. “What?”

“Long story,” I muttered. “Good luck.”

I climbed into my car, engine roaring to life beneath me. I wasn’t going to plan a party. My dad could order me to do it, but he could also order me to make wine from water. There were party planners for that. I’d hire one.

If this whole stupid mess was real, it was going to be a long summer.