Page 21 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Liam

When I wake up the next morning, she’s gone.

I throw my arm behind my head and lay in bed for a few minutes.

Somehow, I’m not surprised. The sex last night had been a surprise.

True to my word, I took her out to dinner, not with the intention of bedding her, but because I wanted to surprise her, to make her feel cherished.

An emotion I don’t normally associate with women.

I’ve slept with them in the past, but never allowed them to get close.

I’ve always drawn the line when it comes to my personal life.

Although, I was conscious of the contents of my father’s will and knew, at some point, I’d have to choose a life-partner and deliver on the clauses, it always seemed like something in the distant future.

I kept putting it off, never allowing myself to emotionally engage with any of them, and one day, I woke up, close to forty, and realized I didn’t have anyone to call my own.

To be fair, I’d yet to meet anyone I wanted to get intimate with, someone with whom I could lower my barriers and allow them to get to know me better.

I’d never wanted to find out more about any of them, either.

I’d reconciled myself to a possible marriage where I’d have a safe relationship.

One in which the boundaries would be known and never overstepped.

One in which both partners knew what was expected of them.

A safe connection which went only as far as was needed to deliver on the demands posed by my father’s will. And no further.

Then she came along and turned my world upside down.

It’s no wonder I reacted so strongly to her from the beginning.

What I thought was hate was a form of self-preservation.

A deep attraction that my body had sensed, an attachment my subconscious had instantly recognized but my mind had not been able to fathom.

No wonder I’d expended so much energy in pushing her away.

My instinct had known that if she slipped under my skin, it would be very difficult to resist her.

I should have known fighting the draw was going to be futile.

As a business man, I know when I no longer have the winning hand.

Know when to retreat. Know when to join forces, rather than initiate a hostile takeover.

And now, it's time to apply these lessons to my personal life. It’s time to embrace what I’ve been unwilling to accept all along.

That she came into my life at the right time, and a part of me immediately recognized her.

It’s time to accept her. To accept that she’s the right partner for me.

The chemistry between us is earth shattering, the sex is soul destroying, and the banter we share stimulates my intelligence like no one ever has.

It makes a strong case for a very promising partnership.

As for the question of a child? We can enjoy ourselves while we deliver on that stipulation.

Why deprive ourselves of a pleasurable experience when we can make a baby the normal way?

And after the child is born… We can still go our own ways.

We’ll co-parent, of course, maybe even stay in the marriage and take advantage of our physical compatibility.

Naturally, she can use my contacts and connections to continue to grow her own business. It will benefit the both of us. I’m sure she’ll see the wisdom in that.

Mind made up, I spring out of bed, then rush through my shower and get dressed. I walk down into the kitchen and come to a halt.

Clustered around the kitchen island are Zara Chopra, Summer West, and a woman I don’t recognize, but who looks vaguely familiar.

Apparently, I was sleeping so soundly, I didn’t hear the engines of the plane that brought them in.

How strange. I never sleep that deeply. Not since—the aftermath of the incident.

Evidently, there’s nothing like sex with her to lull me into complacency.

Something I need to be careful about in the future.

With her back to me, Isla stands in front of the cooking surface. She places another pancake onto an already heaped stack. "I think you guys are going to love these strawberry pancakes.”

She turns, spots me, and her gaze narrows.

Without acknowledging my presence, she walks over to the table and slides the pancakes into the center.

Then she grabs the bottle of maple syrup, along with the non-dairy butter, and places them near the pancakes.

She walks around to take her seat next to Zara.

The women look at me, then back at Isla. For a second, no one speaks.

Then Zara raises her hand. "Hey, Liam, hope you don’t mind us gals coming a few days early. We wanted to help Isla with the wedding preparations."

"My husband was happy for us to take his jet. After all, what’s the point of having your own private mode of transportation if it isn’t to be there for a friend?" Summer adds.

Isla keeps her gaze averted. So, it’s going to be like that, is it? She’s going to pretend nothing happened last night? We’ll see.

"Of course." I flash them a smile. "Whatever my fiancée wants is fine by me."

Zara’s eyebrows rise. Summer suppresses a smile. The woman who looks faintly familiar rises to her feet. "We haven’t met, but I’m Solene Sabatini."

"Oh, sorry, I should have introduced the two of you," Isla says, looking at a point somewhere beyond my shoulder. "This is Solene. Not only did her last single top the Spotify charts, but she’s also approached me to help plan her upcoming wedding to Declan. And we’ve become good friends. I hope you don’t mind that I invited her along with Zara and Summer.

You know how it is. A woman needs her friends around her when she’s about to tie the knot.

Moral courage and all that." She gives a fake laugh.

My insides clench. Is marrying me such a repulsive thought that she needs her friends here in her corner.

Doesn’t she realize I’m in her corner, too?

Haven’t I tried to show her that I’ll do anything to accommodate her wishes?

You’re still tying her to the contract and to keeping her end of the deal.

Which is the right thing to do. After all, that’s the reason we’re both here, isn’t it?

I walk over to take the seat next to her, then drop a kiss on her forehead. "Of course, darling, whatever you need."

Isla’s shoulders stiffen further. A ripple of surprise runs around the table. The women glance at me, then at Isla who, in turn, plates out the pancakes. "Dig in, ladies."

"I see you found the ingredients for your vegan pancakes."

"I did, thank you for ensuring the kitchen was stocked with all the necessities," she says stiffly.

My lips tighten. Why am I acting like a wanker and belaboring the point that I made sure to cater to her tastes? I blow out a breath. "Sorry, didn’t mean to act like a dick," I murmur.

"If it talks like one, and walks like one—" She raises her shoulder.

I scowl.

"You weren’t complaining about it when I was inside you yesterday."

"Good thing you didn’t fuck me where it counted."

Anger slices through my chest.

I rise to my feet and grab her arm. "Would you ladies excuse us for one second?"

"Wait, what—?" Isla protests.

"I need to talk to you."

"But—"

I glare at her. She pales. Then, to my relief, she rises to her feet. I pull her out of the kitchen and on to the deck, making sure to shut the doors behind us.

She tugs, and I release her arm.

"What the hell are you doing?" she hisses.

"What the hell are you doing?" I lean forward on the balls of my feet. "If you think you’re going to get away with acting like we don’t mean anything to each other—"

"We don’t." She tips up her chin.

"Last night—"

"Meant nothing," she bursts out.

"—Meant everything to me," I say at the same time.

She twists her lips. "Don’t lie. You planned the whole thing last night. You softened me up and wooed me. You capitalized on the chemistry between us. You hoped it would lead up to giving you a chance to fuck me."

I hesitate.

Her features pale. "So, I am right."

"I admit, now that we’ve fucked, our body language is different. It helps to come across as more genuine to everyone, but that’s not why I planned the evening last night. I wanted to do it for you. I wanted to make it special for you."

"And I don’t understand why. This entire thing is a contract, nothing more."

"But what if it isn’t? What if it’s the start of something else? What if—" I scan her features. "I want it to be something more."

"You mean, like a real marriage?"

"I mean, like a real partnership. You saw how combustible we are in bed and how compatible we are out of it. What if, instead of going through alternative means, we make a child the old-fashioned way?"

Something shifts behind her eyes. "I see. This is about your heir." She laughs. "Of course it is. It’s one of the clauses of your father’s will, after all."

"I’ve never hidden that. But given everything that’s happened between us, I don’t see the point of going through artificial means of having a child. Also," —I lean in closer until our eyelashes tangle— "it would be so much more pleasurable, don’t you think?"

Her lips part. An array of emotions sweeps across her features. Lust, need, then regret.

"No." She takes a step back.

I blink. "No?"

She shakes her head. "I don’t want a future with you.

I don’t think we’re compatible. We come from very different backgrounds, and I value my independence.

Given how strong a personality you have, I’d be smothered in any relationship with you.

It’s why I think it’s best we don’t sleep together again.

And we stick to our original agreement of things being strictly business from now on. "

My guts churn. It feels like that ten-ton truck that slammed into my chest yesterday, which I thought I’d shaken off, is back. And this time, driving back and forth over my prostrate body, ensuring my annihilation.

I grip her by her shoulders and haul her up to her tiptoes. "Look into my eyes and tell me you didn’t feel something last night. That you weren’t as affected as me by our making love. That it didn’t mean anything to you."

"It meant nothing to me. I wasn’t affected by it. I didn’t feel anything." She glances away, then back at me.

"At least learn to lie better."

"I’m not lying."

I bare my teeth. "I so fucking don’t believe you, Isla. Why’re you resisting the chance for us to have something together? Why’re you turning your back on what could turn out to be the thing that’s missing from both of our lives?"

"What’s missing from my life is that I don’t have my independence anymore.

" It would make more sense for her to complain that she will never have her independence again because she's being forced to have a baby she never planned to have and now she'll be tied down to it forever.

But not to him, because he'll be a reminder of what she had to give up.I tighten my hold on her and glance between her eyes.

"What are you scared of, Isla? What’s got you running at the first signs of genuine intimacy? "

"It’s you. I don’t want to be with you, Liam. Is that so difficult to understand? I don’t want another woman’s castoff."

Hurt pounds at my temples. Anger claws at my insides. She doesn’t mean it. She’s saying it to hurt me, so I’ll push her way. A part of me insists that, but I disregard it.

"So, this is it then? This is what you want? For us to have a strictly contractual relationship from now on?"

She nods. Her features are set. There’s no hint of emotion in her eyes. I want to believe she’s hiding her genuine feelings, but right now, I can’t see evidence of it.

"Fine."

"Fine."