Page 27 of Billionaire's Fake Plus One

“Answer the fucking question Zane.” As soon as I get the address, I storm out of the library. I stop in front of the bedroom, my hand hovering over the door. But I don’t knock. She wants space: I can give her that…for now at least. I spin around and walk out of the suite.

I jog to the lodge’s private garage and get into my rental SUV. My hands tighten on the wheel periodically as I drive to the restaurant where Brittany and her female guests are dining. I park haphazardly in front of the exclusive venue.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be staying.” I tell the maitre 'd, on alert. As soon as I walk into the reception, the hostess gets to her feet.

“There’s a private event going on now, sir. You can’t be here.” I slam the door open and scan the restaurant. “Sir!” he says urgently but my gaze lands on Brittany’s conniving face. I storm over to her. By now, some of the guests have noticed me, and the conversation slowly dwindles.

“We need to talk.” I bite out as I come to a stop in front of her.

Brittany glances up at me coyly, a smile playing on her lips. “This is a women-only event, Lucien. You should be fishing with the boys.” My eyes barrow at her threateningly. “Okay, Okay, I’m coming. Ugh.”

She gets to her feet, flashing our audience a fake smile. “I’ll be right back, ladies. My brother-in-law has some pressing information for me.” I spin around, and she follows me out of the restaurant. “What the hell Lucien? You can’t do that!” she yells in a low voice.

I want to rail at her. Shake her. Maybe then some sense will be shocked into her skull, but I refrain. She only told Willow about our past to get to me and ruin my relationship with her. I’m not going to give her the satisfaction of seeing just how well it worked. “During dinner tonight, you’ll apologize to Willow,” I growl.

“What? Not a chance. You’re insane if you think I’m going to do that.” She rolls her eyes to mock me.

I smirk, “You will or I’m cutting Zane off. I’ll take over his trust fund and his managerial position at Baldwin Elite? Poof, gone.” I snap my fingers.

She narrows her eyes at me angrily. “You can’t do that. He’s your brother for God’s sake!”

“Half-brother.” I correct. “I can and Iwill, Brittany. I know you’re only marrying him for status and money. Take away the money, and you’ll be nothing but a penniless woman with expensive taste and a useless husband.”

She growls in frustration, and I know my message is well understood. I turn to my car.

“Why are you doing this for Willow, of all people? Do you really love her? She’s just a nanny!”

I whirl to face her so fast that she takes a cautious step back. “Take her name out of your mouth. You’re not fit to clean the shoes on her feet,” I warn. Then I get in my car and drive off, leaving her standing there, her mouth agape.

20

LUCIEN

Ipace up and down the library, strategizing different ways to show Willow that she isn’t irrelevant to me. I don’t know when or how, but fuck, she’s very relevant to me. She was still in the bedroom when I got back from the restaurant and hasn’t come out since. We have an intimate dinner with just family in less than an hour, and I’m not sure she’ll show. Not that I’ll blame her if she stands me up. I deserve it.

I grab the back of my neck impatiently, frustrated with myself. I contemplate doubling the money she’s set to make at the end of this week, but I quickly discard the idea. Throwing money at her won’t work. Willow isn’t the type to be impressed by bribery, and she might end up getting angrier.

There’s a sharp rap on the door, and my heart starts pounding as I spin eagerly to face the door. I should’ve known that I was fucked at that moment. When have I ever been eager to see a specific woman? I can’t remember if I ever was. Women have always been interchangeable. If it doesn’t work out with one, there are thousands more. But here I am salivating because I know the only possible person at the door is Willow. Does it mean she’s no longer angry?

I open the door, and I’m stunned speechless. She’s in a long, brown dress that clings to her curves. Her hair is piled up on her head, exposing her long, graceful neck. Her breasts are pushed up, exposing more than a hint of creamy flesh. My mind goes blank as I stare at her.

“The bedroom is free, so you can go get ready now,” she says coolly, her blue eyes distant. Yeah, I’m still very much on her shit list. She turns around before I can respond, and I almost swallow my tongue. The expanse of her back is excruciatingly bare. Fuck, I didn’t see that when she picked the dress.

“Willow, you look…you’re stunning,” I blurt out, my eyes glued to the exposed skin of her back as I follow her to the living area. I’ve never reacted to a woman as viscerally as I do with her, and I haven’t been this horny since I was a desperate teenager.

She perches on one of the chairs elegantly and crosses one leg over the other. I wait for a few minutes. “Willow, about Brittany…I should’ve told you, and I-”

“We’re going to be late for dinner, Lucien.” She cuts me off. “We don’t need to have this conversation now. I disagree with her last sentence, but she’s right. We’re going to be late. The only events we can’t blow off in this wedding are this dinner and the actual wedding ceremony. So, I reluctantly walk into the bedroom to get ready.

Thirty minutes later, we’re making our way into the intimate dining room on the lodge’s ground floor. Everyone’s present already, and their gazes move to us as we enter the room. Willow stiffens beside me. I place my hand on the base of her spine to comfort her. The moment my hand comes in contact with her bare skin, heat courses through my body, and my pants become tight. Fuck. That won’t do.

I drop my hand to hers to intertwine our fingers. It feels so natural and intensely intimate to hold hands like this. She raises her brow, and I smile gently back.

“Nice of you to finally show up,” Lauren, my step-mother, whines.

I smirk at her as we stroll to the table. “Lauren, lovely as always.” I help Willow into one of the two empty chairs and slide in beside her. “Abigail, Maya.” I nod in acknowledgement at my aunts. “Your husbands couldn’t make it?”

“You know how work can get, you being a workaholic yourself,” Abigail says and turns a curious gaze at Willow. “And who is this?”

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