Page 7 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Liam

"So let me get this right, you and Lila are not getting married, but you and" —my mother turns to my fake wife-to-be— "I’m sorry, what’s your name, dear?"

"Isla." She holds out her hand. "Isla Bailey."

"Isla." My mother shakes her hand briefly, then pulls back. “You and Isla are getting married?”

We’re seated at the dining table in my mother’s house.

"Lila and I decided we weren’t suited for each other, after all. Plus, as soon as I saw Isla, I knew she was the one," I murmur.

My mother frowns. "So, while you were still with Lila, you were attracted to Isla?"

I hesitate. "I never should have proposed to Lila. I was marrying her for all the wrong reasons. Luckily, Lila realized it first and called off the wedding."

My mother’s eyebrows shoot up.

"And you accepted it?"

"I knew she was right. It was the correct thing to do."

"Hmph." My mother firms her lips.

I asked Isla to join me tonight for dinner with my mother because I wanted to see how she would handle it.

Also, I wanted to test her. I didn’t think the person who’d be on trial would be me.

I forgot how smart my mother is. She may not interfere with my life, but she knows me well.

She knows how I hate being told ‘no'. Seems I’m going to have to convince her it was all for a good reason.

I allow my expression to soften with what I hope is a sentiment as close to love as possible.

"From the moment I set eyes on Isla, it was like a thunderbolt.

Now I know what the poets meant and what the philosophers hinted at.

For the first time, I understand what it means to wake up in the morning and think of another person before yourself. "

Isla’s lips part. She holds my gaze, and for a second, something shifts in their depths.

Apparently, I’ve done a good enough job with my words for her to almost believe me.

Then she seems to catch herself and scowls at me.

She’s wearing a pale blue dress that picks out the color of her eyes, molds to her figure, and falls to below her knees.

A dress with a high collar and long sleeves that I had sent to her place with a note that said: Wear this.

I expected her to protest, but to my surprise, when I rang the doorbell to her apartment, she opened it dressed in the clothes I’d sent her.

It didn’t stop her from complaining about the fact that the dress covers too much and she’s seen nuns dressed more provocatively.

It gave me pause as I thought, did I choose this dress to ensure my wife-to-be would be covered up from the eyes of the outside world?

Of course, we’re going to meet my mother, so I wanted her to be dressed appropriately.

Yes, that’s all it is. Also, if I’m being honest, I enjoyed the brief altercation with her in the car on the way here.

Now, I tip up my lips. "We knew we were meant for each other from the moment we met. Isn’t that right, precious? " I reach across the table and take her hand.

She stamps the heel of her Ferragamos—which I also bought for her—into my foot.

Pain shoots up my calf. I manage to keep the wince of discomfort away from my features.

My mother looks from me to Isla. The expression on her face indicates she’s dubious.

She needs to buy it, though. If she doesn’t, how are we going to convince the entire world watching the event that we’re truly in love?

Same way I was going to do it with Lila, I guess. Except, I actually liked her.

I watch Isla from under lowered eyelids.

What’s she going to say? Is she going to play along and convince my mother or—her expression softens.

Her eyes shine, color flushes her cheeks, and I watch as she swallows.

"It’s true," her voice trembles. "From the moment I saw Liam, it was like my life had been turned upside down. I knew I had to be with him. It was like I had no choice.” I glare at her, but she continues, “Now I know what I’ve been waiting for. Now I know what all those love songs were written about. I’ve planned so many weddings, but I’ve never wanted to get married myself.

Not until I met him." She turns her gaze on me.

"Liam Kincaid, you swept me away with your tenderness, your sensitivity, your patience.”

Her lips tremble.

Patience? Ha! I would swear those words are said in sarcasm, except the expression on her features belongs to a woman who only has eyes for the man she loves. I almost believe she means everything she said... Just like I meant every one of my words.

“It’s been you all along; only you." She looks between my eyes.

Her blue eyes turn dark until they resemble the sky before a downpour.

Specks of silver flash deep inside like lightning.

She turns her palm up, and I wrap my fingers about hers.

Soft, slim, fragile. Like the most delicate of flowers.

Pink blushes her cheeks. Her lips part. I lean in closer until my breath mingles with hers.

She holds my gaze for a second more, then turns toward my mother. "So you see, what we have here is a once-in-a-lifetime kind of love. I understand we didn’t find each other in the most conventional of ways, but I can assure you, what we have is genuine."

The spell breaks. I blink and think, damn, she’s good. I almost believed her myself. My mother’s expression has thawed, too.

I bring Isla’s fingers to my lips and brush them over her knuckles.

Her breath hitches. I sense the tension vibrating off of her body.

I transfer her hand to my other palm and wrap my arm around her.

"It’s only after I met Isla that I realized how deep, how overpowering, how truly all-consuming a sensation love is.

When I’m not with Isla, I can’t wait to see her.

To hear her voice. To make her laugh. To see her smile.

To watch her eyes light up when I surprise her. "

Her pupils dilate.

"And when she’s not with me, every part of me misses her. I want to take care of her, protect her, cherish her."

Her lips part. She melts into me, and that’s when I straighten and tip my chin in my mother’s direction. "So you see, our feelings are real and mutual. It’s just taken us a while to acknowledge it."

My mother’s features are positively melting.

Her eyes glimmer. She sniffs, then brings her handkerchief to her face and dabs under her eyes.

"Oh, it’s so moving to hear about two people who are so in love and looking forward to starting their new life together.

You make a really good couple. And I have to admit, the chemistry between the two of you is something. "

I allow myself the satisfaction of a smile.

"I couldn’t be happier. We’re so looking forward to getting married, aren’t we, pumpkin?" I press a kiss to Isla’s hair. She looks up at me with an adoring look in her eyes. Something hot squeezes my chest.

"Only you don’t fool me."

Isla and I stare at each other, then as one, we whip our heads toward her.

"Excuse me?" I say through gritted teeth.

My mother pats her lips, then drops her handkerchief on the table. "I understand why you decided to go with a marriage of convenience."

I open my mouth to speak, but she raises her hand.

"I really do, Liam. I was against your father putting that clause in his will requiring you to get married and produce an heir before you could claim your inheritance.

I fought him on it, but he refused to budge.

Perhaps he had an inkling that it was the only way you would marry and settle down, and he wanted only the best for his children.

" She places the tips of her fingers together on the table. "So, I don’t hold it against you, but the two of you need to figure out a way to convince the rest of the world about it because right now, the animosity between the two of you is so evident, it’s practically turning the air blue. "

"I—" I shake my head. I’m seldom rendered speechless, but I can always count on my mother to throw a curveball. It’s why she’s still the president of our company and sits in on board meetings. Nothing escapes her eagle eyes, after all.

The silence stretches. What am I supposed to say to that? Not only was I trying to pull a fast one over my mother, I thought I’d get away with it. I haven’t felt this tongue-tied since she caught me watching porn on my father’s laptop when I was thirteen.

"You’re right." Isla’s voice cuts through the space. "It’s a marriage of convenience, and the two of us have some serious work to do on it before we can convince the rest of the world it’s not."

I glare at her, and she merely raises her hands.

"It’s true, and you know it. This was a bad idea; we won’t be able to convince anyone of the legitimacy of the relationship.

No doubt, it looks strange that you swapped one bride for another.

And... I really feel bad about stepping into Lila’s shoes.

She’s my friend. She’s going to think I had this in mind all along when I told her she shouldn’t marry you. "

"You told her she shouldn’t marry Liam?" My mother’s brow arches.

"Ah—" Isla coughs. "Lila met me the day before yesterday and asked me if it was a good idea for her to marry Liam. I… Well, I couldn’t lie to her. She’s my friend, after all. So, I told her she should follow her instincts."

"And she walked out on Liam."

"It would seem that way, yes." Isla wriggles around in her seat. "I honestly didn’t think she’d walk out on the wedding. Not when it was so close. I really feel guilty about it."

"Seems one of you had the guts to face the truth, at least." My mother looks at Isla with something like admiration on her features. "It takes guts to do what you did, young lady. I take it, you knew it was possible you’d be left without having a wedding to arrange at all?"

Isla hunches her shoulders. "I didn’t think it would be my own wedding I’d have to organize instead."

"Is he compensating you well for your role in this charade?"

"Mother," I say in a warning voice.

She waves a hand in the air. "Don’t interfere when it’s us women speaking."

Fuck! That’s all I need, my mother taking a keen interest in a cause means she never leaves anything halfway, and right now that project is my wedding. I’d set out to come up with a scenario that would convince the world. I didn’t think I would be the one in the hot seat instead.

"You could, of course, use me to spin this," my mother murmurs.

"Eh?" I stare at her blankly.

Isla leans forward in her chair. "That’s an interesting thought. Who better than the mother of the bridegroom to give her blessing for this event?"

"Even better when the mother of the bride is also by her side," my ma retorts.

Isla is already shaking her head. "Oh, no, no, no, that is a bad idea. I can’t tell my mother I’m involved in a fake marriage scenario, especially if… I mean, when I get pregnant later—"

"Which I assume is going to be by artificial means?" my mother interjects.

Once more, I gape at her. "You’re taking this rather well." I scowl.

"I might be of a different generation, but I’ve kept up with the times." My mother smiles serenely. "I understand how these things work nowadays. And if this is the only way I’m going to get a grandchild from you, then I can’t complain, can I?"

"Uh, I don’t think my mother is going to take this all that well." Isla reaches for her glass of wine and drains half of it. "I’d rather not tell her the truth, to be honest."

My mother tilts her head. "So, you’d let your mother believe that—"

"Yeah, that we’re in love and if… when I get pregnant, that it’s a child conceived in the natural way, yeah," —she places the glass of wine on the table, then leans forward again— "Mrs. Kincaid."

"Call me Rosie, please."

"Rosie, it’s awfully sporting of you to understand our situation, but I can assure you, my mother would not understand why we’re doing this.

All she’ll remember is that the relationship is fake, and she won't be able to keep it a secret. It won’t be long before my entire extended family is aware of it, too, and from there. .. It’s a short jump to the media."

My mother frowns. "I understand what you’re saying, but I still think we need to have your mother involved for when we speak to the press."

"Oh, god." Isla presses the heels of her hands to her eyes and mutters, "This can’t be happening to me. Please, someone, pinch me."

I reach over and pinch her arm, and she yelps, then lowers her hands to the table. "That hurt."

"Good," I growl. Now she knows how I feel…

"What are we going to do?" Her mouth droops. Her eyes wear a pleading look. Damn, she’s adorable when she’s all frustrated. "Liam?" she murmurs.

I reach over and place my hand over hers. She stiffens but doesn’t pull her palm away.

"I think I know a way out." I turn to my mother. "But we need your help."