Her Bad Boy Billionaire Lover (Billionai - By Bretton, Barbara Page 0,31
so strong, so overpowering that he wanted to turn back the clock and try to make things right....
#
They had driven up from Miami to retrieve the last of her things from the pink palace where she'd lived with her father. Jake had been braced for another fight, but McLean was out of town on business and he had found himself almost disappointed.
"It's better this way," Megan had said as she tossed silk blouses and gold necklaces into a leather suitcase. "Daddy just needs time to get used to the idea that I'm married." She'd turned to him, a smile on her beautiful lips. "He's really a wonderful man, Jake. I know you two will be friends." Her smile widened. "Daddy wants to help us...he even said he'd buy us a little house in the neighborhood so we can all be together."
Something inside Jake snapped. "You're not daddy's little girl anymore," he'd said, turning the suitcase upside down on the bed. "You're my wife."
"Jake!" She'd sounded surprised. A touch fearful. "What on earth--?"
"Leave it," he said, scattering the expensive clothes across the floor. "You don't need this shit."
She scrambled around, gathering up hundred dollar blouses and fifty dollar bras. "These are my things. I'm not going anywhere without them."
"The hell you're not."
"These clothes belong to me."
"They belong to your old man."
"They're mine."
"You don't get it," he said, in amazement. He wanted to wring her lovely neck. "I'll buy you new clothes."
The look on her face spoke volumes. There was a hell of a big difference between Kmart dresses and Donna Karan originals. Even he knew that.
"Isn't that foolish, Jake, when I already have so many wonderful things?"
His gaze travelled the room. The furniture probably cost more than he'd made in his life. Heavy silk drapes. Antique dressing table. Cozy family pictures in silver frames. He thought of the station in Queensland where he'd grown up, of the pallet where he'd slept in the kitchen because there wasn't a room for him in the crowded house.
Who the hell was he to tell her to leave her belongings behind when he couldn't afford to buy her even one of those fancy outfits that filled her closet. McLean had told Jake what he thought of their chances. The bastard's words ate at his gut like a cancer. Six months at the most...you can't expect a girl like Megan to live hand-to-mouth....
McLean didn't think Jake knew what poverty could do to a woman, but he did. He'd watched his sister Angie die a little every day as she cooked and cleaned and dreamed away her life in that shack they'd called home.
"Why are you looking at me like that, Jake?" Megan's feathery brows were knotted in a frown.
"Come here." His voice was rough. His emotions were running high.
She knew what he was about. "Not here!" Her laugh was nervous and delighted both, as he crossed the room to where she stood. "Someone might see us."
He kicked shut the door. "Nobody will see us."
She giggled as he pulled her into his arms. "I can't do it in my old room, Jake. It's--"
"Exciting." He cupped her breasts. "The word you're looking for is 'exciting.'"
She moaned as he moved against her. "What if Daddy comes home?"
"Shut up," he said, claiming her mouth. He didn't want to hear about daddy or the servants, about fancy clothes and privileged lives. He wanted to claim her in the oldest way possible. The most primitive. And he took her, fast and hot and hard, in the room where she'd grown up, surrounded by all the things he'd never be able to provide for her. Not in a million years.
When she cried out his name, a high fierce cry of ecstasy, he'd almost believed they could make it work.
#
We should've talked to each other, he thought as she made her way toward him with the grace that was as much a part of her as her auburn hair and sharp intellect. Making love had been easy. Maybe too easy. Perfectly mated physically they'd paid no attention to the other puzzle pieces that made up the whole of a marriage.
"Jake." Megan stopped a few feet from him. Her green eyes were wide and questioning. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Because you're beautiful," he said, unable to stop the words. "And because I was wondering how life would have been if you weren't."
"We never would have married, for starters."
The cynicism in her voice took him by surprise and he said so.