Page 62 of If You Give a Billionaire a Bride

We’ve both been guilty of letting my dad treat us with disrespect over the years.

“So, how’s that sexy man of yours anyway?” August asks. “Have you fucked him yet, or are you still trying to convince yourself that you’re not going to sleep with him?”

Coffee sprays from my mouth, and I’m quick to wipe my mouth on the back of my hand. When I look down, I spot a coffee stain on my sleeve.

“Damnit,” I mumble. “Give me a warning the next time you switch topics to my sex life,” I deadpan.

I grab a single-use stain remover packet from my drawer, tear it open, and dab the spot on my blouse until it’s hardly noticeable. Thank god I’m always prepared.

“You know I don’t have a filter,” August shrugs. “Hell, if I were in your shoes, I’d be fucking that man six ways to Sunday.”

“You do know you’re talking aboutmyhusband, right?” I try to sound nonchalant, but a flicker of possessiveness sparks inside me.

“So, you have fucked him?” August smirks.

I nibble on my lip as a blush rises up my neck. It feels hot in here, like the temperature has spiked. “It’s none of your business,” I say, trying to brush him off.

Cash and I might not have had sex on the elevator, but I recall the way his strong arms felt wrapped around me as he held me close. As though I were the center of his universe, and he would do anything to protect me. There was no judgment or criticism, only tender caresses and soft-spoken words. My mind drifts to his cock pressed against his pants, the swollen tip jerking as I traced the outline with my finger.

August leans forward in his seat. “Come on, Everly,” he says, pointing at me. “It’s obvious by the flush in your cheeks you and Cash have hooked up, or at least you want to.”

“We haven’t slept together,” I say, hoping he’ll drop the subject.

That doesn’t mean I don’t want to.

It’s a good thing August can’t read my mind or I’d never hear the end of it.

“Mark my words, Ev. It’s only a matter of time before you two are fucking like rabbits.”

His conclusion catches me off guard. Thankfully, my coffee is safe on my desk this time, or I would have spilled it on my lap and needed a whole box of stain-remove wipes.

I’m just about to deny his assumption when we’re interrupted.

“Everly, have you seen—” Liam stops short in my doorway when he spots August lounging on my couch. “There you are,” he sighs.

“Here I am,” August quips. “Do you need something, or are you just keeping tabs on me, brother?”

Liam pushes his thick-rimmed glasses up his nose. His wardrobe is strictly professional, in contrast to August’s relaxed business style. He’s the epitome of a well-dressed businessman in his charcoal-gray suit, cobalt tie, and leather dress shoes. His hair is styled in a crew cut, a striking contrast to his midnight blue eyes.

“Richard wants the proposal for the Thames Park Towers project sent to him by the end of the day,” Liam says.

August narrows his eyes. “You’re joking. The bastard told us about the project yesterday. How the hell does he expect us to prepare an entire proposal in one day?”

“This is all my fault,” I interject.

August arches an eyebrow. “How do you figure?”

“If Cash and I hadn’t provoked my dad yesterday, he wouldn’t be piling all this extra work on us.”

“Yeah, right,” August scoffs. “The prick is always looking for an excuse to make our lives more miserable. Even if he hadn’t turned up in London yesterday, he’d still want this proposal finished today.”

“He’s right. This has nothing to do with you,” Liam states. He leans against the doorway with his arms folded across his chest.“I’ve been meaning to ask. How are you holding up? The news about Stafford Holdings buying out Townstead International was shocking, and I can only imagine how difficult it must be for you. Richard should never have asked you to stay married to Cash to keep the deal from falling apart, and I told him so yesterday.”

In some ways Liam reminds me of Harrison. He’s a fierce protector and takes his big brother role seriously. The difference is that he’s the reserved genius type who prefers to keep to himself. When he does speak, his calm and measured tone gives weight to his words.

“I appreciate you standing up for me,” I say. “We’ve put our blood, sweat and tears into this company, and I’ll be damned if it’s jeopardized. Whatever my dad is up to, we’ll be better off with the Staffords owning the company.” Liam gives me a wary gaze. He doesn’t know their family like I do, but he’ll see the truth in time. “And don’t worry about me. Cash and I are getting along well and spending time reconnecting with each other.”

I’m happier than I’ve been in a while. My pulse quickens whenever I see Cash, and I find myself looking forward to our evenings together. He’s kept his promise to make me smile every day, and I think it’s fair to say I’m rather fond of my husband—more than I like to admit.

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