Page 22 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Isla

"You okay?"

Zara shuts off the treadmill and wipes her face with the towel slung around her neck.

"I’m good." I return to perusing my phone with the treadmill set at a low speed where I can both walk—and pretend to exercise—as well as reply to the emails which I was sure would have flooded my inbox overnight.

Unfortunately, it turns out none of my vendors are missing me, given they are taking instructions from the people Liam assigned to take over the wedding planning operations from me.

After our fallout earlier, Liam returned to the breakfast table, as did I.

We both stayed on, making conversation with my friends— Correction, he charmed them while I stayed silent.

I barely managed to eat my breakfast, while he polished off the rest of the food on his plate.

Typical male behavior. He’s able to compartmentalize everything.

Whereas my guts were churning so hard, I could barely keep my food down.

He even helped to clear away the breakfast dishes, no doubt, to earn brownie points with my friends, after which he left.

The girls retired to their rooms. Summer and Solene wanted to catch up on their sleep, but Zara and I made plans to get a work-out before lunch.

Later, as I’d made my way to the gym, Liam texted to say my phone was unblocked and I had access to my email and social media.

Sure enough, notifications began to crowd my phone right away, although it wasn’t as bad as I’d expected.

The comments on the post I’d put up had died off.

Apparently, our wedding doesn’t warrant as much public scrutiny as I thought it would.

Now, I click through to the social media platform again and check.

Nope, except for a couple more comments, one of which is someone hawking their T-shirt and another of which compliments my choice of outfit, there’s nothing.

It’s like everyone moved on to other news already.

Huh. I guess Liam was right. People are happy to turn their attention to the next big thing that comes along.

Still. "This really is strange."

"What is?" Zara asks.

I switch off my treadmill and use my towel to pat the faint beads of perspiration on my forehead. "I thought I’d have trolls making my life miserable and passing judgement on me. But the attention has died down so quickly..."

I search through the internet. "We barely made any news.

" Except for a passing reference in some gossip blogs and a couple of wedding influencers who commented on 'brideswap,' all the other mentions are overwhelmingly positive. People bought Liam’s little speech about how he fell for me and how this is the right thing for both of us.

The tension in my shoulders drains a little. I hadn’t realized how stressed I was about the potential outcome of the post until now.

"That’s good, right?" She uncaps her water bottle and drinks from it.

"Y-e-a-h?"

"You don’t sound very sure."

"I mean, I’m glad there isn’t a bigger backlash." I step off the treadmill, then hold the phone out to her. "I mean, look. Some of the articles even mention how mature it is of all parties involved to do what’s best for us. When was the last time you saw the press being this measured?"

She reads it, then glances at me. "It does seem people are being more sensible about it than not." She hands the phone to me. "And you’ve got loads of positive coverage around the actual news of the wedding, including the fact that it’s a private affair being held on Liam’s island in the Mediterranean.

So, enough to keep people engaged but not so much information that it comes across as crass, considering it comes on the heels of his previous broken engagement.

" She pauses and taps her chin. "It’s all tasteful, actually. "

"Too tasteful," I stop my treadmill and jump off it with my phone in my hand.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing, it just seems strange there haven’t been more trolls commenting on the sequence of events. There seemed to be people taking sides initially, but even that’s died off."

"You do have your own joint hashtag," she points out.

"#Lisla," I half laugh.

"That’s not too bad.”

“I guess,” I hesitate.

“It could have always been #Liamsla or #Slam or #Ilam?”

"I don’t even want to go there.” I resist a shudder.

“Overall, things have worked out okay, eh?”

"They have.” I purse my lips, “I just wish I could be more hands on with the wedding preparations."

"Best you aren’t. The details would only stress you out. This way, your vision is still executed, but you don’t have to be involved with the nitty-gritty."

I narrow my gaze on her. "Is that your way of hinting I haven’t been delegating?"

"I’m the last person to find fault with you on that. God knows, I’m the same. It’s difficult to let go when you know you can do things better than anyone else. But it’s also the shortest way to burn out."

"So I've been too hands on." I purse my lips.

"Hey, I understand. When you’re building your own business, you have to do everything. You have been a bit of a workaholic, though."

"Hello pot, meet kettle."

She laughs. "Agreed. Still, I dropped everything and came when you called, didn’t I?"

I sober. "I can’t thank you enough for that. I was panicking when I called last night."

"You did sound like you had a lot on your mind."

"It was so good of Summer’s husband to let you borrow his jet."

She waves her hand in the air. "He’s a gazillionaire; he can afford it. Though I was surprised you invited Solene on to come."

“I wanted Amelie to come along, but she had work to wrap up before she could make it. Also, just between us, I think she preferred to come with Weston on a later flight. Summer asked if she could bring Solene. I figured it would be good to have her—safety in numbers, you know?”

"Surprised Declan let her come on her own." She refers to Solene’s fiancé who’s also an up-and-coming movie star.

"He’s shooting in the Caribbean, but he’ll be here the first chance he gets."

"Also surprised Liam’s letting you out of his sight," she murmurs.

I open my mouth, then close it. "Oh, no, no, no, don’t think for one second you can trap me into revealing something I shouldn’t by your smooth questioning technique."

"Damn it," she says lightly. "And here I thought I could use my court-tested cross examination technique on you with success. Seriously, though..." She chugs down more water from her bottle then caps it. "There are enough sparks between the two of you to light wet kindling."

"Umm, okay?" What else am I supposed to say? That what she senses between us is an illusion? Because it’s not. Try as I might, I can't deny it. What happened last night was real. And I’m the one who started it… And it was everything I’d hoped for, and so much more.

His touch, the feel of his skin on mine, his fingers inside me, his tongue fucking me, his eyelashes grazing mine, his lips on mine, his teeth biting into the curve of my neck, his cock in my most forbidden place.

And yet, he didn’t come inside me. Was that by accident or design?

He was in me, he made me come, and then he had enough self-control left to pull out and take me the other way.

Is that strange, or is it simply him being kinky?

Come to think of it, I don’t know much about this man who’s going to be my—fake—husband, at all.

And do I want to find out more about him?

Considering our relationship is a farce? I’m not sure.

He intrigues me. He has as many contradictions as I do.

And secrets like I do. At least, that’s what I sense.

In that way, we match—each of us having something we don’t want the rest of the world to find out about.

He feels like a kindred spirit. Like someone who, if I spent more time with him, I wouldn’t be able to resist. Who am I kidding?

I’m past that stage already. I thought I hated him.

But maybe what I’d been feeling was actually attraction.

The kind that is so intense you want to deny it right away.

The kind that is so potent you shrink away from it.

The kind that melts your panties and liquifies your brain cells so you can’t think coherently.

Is that why I told Lila not to marry him? Is that why, when she asked me, I decided to tell her the truth? Because I knew, even then, I was attracted to him?

No, that’s not possible. I did truly hate him, and I was acting in Lila's best interests when I could see he didn’t love her.

It was obvious to me, even then, that he was looking at the wedding as a business arrangement, and I truly thought I was acting in her best interest. Only now, I’m not sure if my subconscious mind urged me to tell her the truth, knowing what the outcome would be. Hoping for the outcome...

"Earth to Isla, hello!"

I blink and look into Zara’s worried face.

"You okay, babe?" She frowns.

"Of course I am." I plop the towel over my shoulder. "I also owe you a thanks for bringing over my wedding dress."

"It’s a Karma WS original. Of course I was going to bring it along. Especially since she’s also designing the bridesmaids’ dresses." Zara smirks.

"I can’t believe she agreed to do it. Especially since it’s so last-minute."

"She’s your friend, why wouldn’t she do this for you?

" Zara steps off her treadmill. She pats her forehead, even though she’s hardly broken a sweat.

This, despite the fact that her treadmill was set at double, if not triple, the speed I set my own.

The woman’s an overachiever in every way.

Still holding my phone, I stretch out my leg and begin to cool down.

“You’re right, I’ve known Karma for many years, but she’s a successful designer and her time is stretched. I’m fortunate she could see me for a quick dress-fitting before Liam surprised me by bringing me here early," I reply.

"You mean, he let you out of his sight long enough for that?"

I narrow my gaze on her. "It really isn’t like that with Liam and me."

She scoffs. "Oh, please. You agreed to marry the guy, knowing the media shitstorm it was going to leave in its wake. And you are the most risk-averse person I know. Also, the way he looks at you—like he’d rather have you for breakfast, lunch and dinner, than eat food.

I mean, when he walked into the kitchen and saw us, I thought for sure he’d tell the rest of us to leave so he could have his way with you. I was so surprised when he didn’t."

"Your point being?"

"You wanted your friends around, and he was happy to oblige. Despite the fact he, clearly, wanted more one-on-one time with you."

I purse my lips. "Why do I get the feeling you’re beginning to admire him."

"I’m warming up to him," she concedes.

"He did bring me here without giving me a choice," I point out.

"And that has definitely helped to take your mind off the media reactions before the wedding. Also, the media backlash itself seems to have died off."

I rub my temple. "Which is really strange. It’s almost like he reached out to the influencers and online trolls and told them to back off, and they did."

She rolls her eyes. "Really? That’s your explanation for the media leaving you in peace?"

I lower my hand to my side. "You’re right, of course. Not even the great Liam Kincaid would be able to influence the influencers."