Page 290 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Knight

Her eyes widen. "Did you say a wife?"

Abby nods, and Penny starts laughing.

Abby chuckles, then says, "It sounds ridiculous, but it’s the only way Knight can take over the company from my father."

"Did I miss something?" She blinks rapidly. "He needs a wife in order to take over the company?"

"A condition my father only saw fitting to tell me just a little while ago." I manage to school my features into a bored expression. My father caught me by surprise. I’d anticipated he’d make me pay for the years I spent away in the military and for turning my back on the company he built, but this stipulation of his was not something I could have seen coming.

"Wait, I’m confused." Penny shifts her weight from foot to foot. "Aren’t you the CEO of this company?"

"The CEO looks after the day-to-day running of the company. The Chairman of the Board has the final say on all decisions of the company," I say in a voice that’s meant to sound condescending.

And it does, for she scowls in my direction.

"The position of Chairman is currently held by my father, and for me to take over from him, I need to be married."

"And within the month," Abby chimes in. "Also, he has to produce an heir within the year."

"Wha—?" Penny shakes her head. "I’m afraid this is all waaay over my pay grade. You’ll have to explain to me what your being married has to do with your becoming the head of the company."

"My father believes whoever is at the head of the company needs to be someone settled in life, someone who's a family man, in order to prevent any scandals from rocking the future of the corporation." Abby places her fingers together. "Our father refuses to concede on this point."

She glances in Abby’s direction. "So, why don’t you take over?"

Abby laughs. "And inherit the ton of problems that go with it? No, thank you. I’m happy focusing on PR—and for the time being, helping Knight with the PR of this company, and then I have Cade.

Call me old-fashioned, but I want time to focus on my marriage and Cade and our future together.

" Her features soften, her eyes shine, and for a few seconds, I’m envious of the happiness my sister has found.

Sure, Cade was an asshole, in terms of how he got her to fall in love with him.

But apparently, they’re happy now. And my sister is content.

I’ve seen how Cade looks at her, how they look at each other.

They are soulmates, despite needing to get past their checkered history to get there.

And now, they have each other’s support; they are each other’s best friends and life partners.

Something I will never have, for not another soul will understand what I’ve been through.

"Of course, it’s not like someone getting married means there are no scandals that follow, but that’s my father’s archaic thinking for you." Abby rolls her eyes.

"Okay, fine, so he"—Penny jerks her chin in my direction—"has to get married to hold onto the company. That’s his problem."

"You’re my employee, so it’s your problem," I insert smoothly.

She blinks rapidly. I glare at her, and she pales, then ducks her head, and takes a sip of whatever she has in her mug.

"I think, uh, I need to sit down." Then, before I can give her permission, she walks over to the sofa and plonks down on the corner nearest to Abby.

Of course, her cup sways, and some of the liquid sloshes over onto her skirt.

"Oh, no, and this is my favorite, too." She places the mug on the coffee-table, then glances around.

"Here—" Abby reaches into her bag, pulls out a packet of tissues and hands it over. Penny pulls one out and dabs at the blot on her dress. "No, no, no, why do I always spoil my clothes like this."

Because you are adorably clumsy?

Did I use the word adorable?

I shake my head. "Leave it, woman, you’re only making it worse."

"But the spot stands out against the pink." She balls up the tissue in her hand, and her lips droop down.

Of course, you could take it off and work the rest of the day with your panties and your gorgeous thighs on display—in my office, of course. Wouldn’t let you show that to anyone else.

Fucking hell, the lack of sleep is getting to me, clearly.

I straighten. "So, it’s settled. You’ll draw up a list of eligible women who meet the criteria, and I’ll choose one from them."

"Wait, what?" she yelps. The phone slips from her hand and falls to the settee next to her. "How do I know what the criteria—"

"Because you’re going to draw it up for me."

She begins to shake her head. "I wouldn’t know where to start."

"I’ll help you." I allow my lips to curve a little.

She scowls. "Uh, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea."

"Nonsense, it’s a great idea. We’ll get dinner tonight, and I’ll walk you through my requirements."

"See, I knew this would work out." Abby rises to her feet. "The two of you work so well as a team."

Penny scowls.

I nod. "Thanks, sis." I walk toward Abby and take her arm to guide her toward the door. "I knew I could count on you."

"Wait, wait, I’m coming, too." Penny jumps up and dashes in our direction.

I see Abby out, then shut the door, turn and push my shoulders against them. "Where do you think you’re going, Ms. Easton?"

"Uh, I have work to do." Penny slows to a stop a good four feet in front of me. Like that would stop me from touching her, if I wanted to. But I’ll allow it, considering I need help in locking down suitable candidates to fulfill this damnable stipulation my father has concocted.

"Put everything else on hold. Your priority is to find me a wife."

"This is crazy. Are you hearing yourself? I cannot find you a wife. This is the twenty-first century. One doesn’t go sourcing wives in the market."

"You’re right about one thing. It is a market."

She shuffles her weight from foot to foot. "I’ve no idea what you’re talking about."

"I’ll pay a million dollars when the woman marries me, and then a million for every year we stay married. Plus, I'll add two million for every kid she produces—once I confirm the offspring is mine, of course, via DNA testing."

She gapes at me. "Do you think you can buy anything?"

"Do you think I can’t buy everything?" I step forward; she skitters back. Damn, but I find her skittishness around me so damn alluring. The fact that she, clearly, dislikes me and hates that her body responds to me but is powerless to stop it sends a jolt of adrenaline shooting through my veins. I advance on her, and her big, blue eyes grow enormous. She slides back, and when I don’t stop, turns and darts forward and around my desk.

"What do you think you’re doing?" I drawl.

"Uh, just, uh, the view." She stabs a finger at the window, and when I round the desk, she slips around the other side and toward the door. She’s almost out the room when I call her name, "Oh, Ms. Easton."

She flinches.

"Don’t forget your phone."