The Billionaire’s Lust (His Submissive, Part Seven) (9 page)

“Sure/No.” Jacob and I said in unison. I frowned at him and he glared right back.

I ignored him. “We’d love to have you.”

She clasped her hands together with glee, her manicured nails glittering...along with a wedding ring that eclipsed her left hand. I knew that Jacob’s father had passed away years ago so seeing it made me feel odd. My inner voice told me that I didn’t know what their relationship was like, but I felt like Jacob and Allegra’s revelations helped me put together a fairly accurate picture of what Carlton and Alicia Whitmore’s marriage was like.

Jacob’s father was filthy rich and he had a young, beautiful
trophy wife...but she wasn’t just in it for the money. She loved him. Loved him even though he had an affair that lasted for years. Loved him when he ended the affair and shut his heart off to both his wife and son. The fact that she was still walking around with the ring, the very symbol of their love and marriage was...unsettling.

I gave myself an internal shake and walked over to help her with the
plates, trying futilely to hide the fact that I was bra-less. I didn’t exactly have the cup size to pull it off without making it fairly obvious that I was missing support, so I needed to put something on stat.

I put down the last plate and
turned toward the stairs. “I’m just going to run upstairs real quick and--”

“You don’t have to put a bra on for me, dear. I have a pair of my own and I’m sure my son i
s more than acquainted with yours.”

And I was
pretty sure every inch of skin on my body flamed red with embarrassment.

So Alicia Whitmore
didn’t mince her words. I tried to tell myself that was a good thing, but from the look Jacob gave her, I think we were both in agreement that there was a line...and talking about my breasts at breakfast was over it.

I sunk into the chair beside Jacob and realized that
‘look’ wasn’t even the right descriptor for the way he was eyeballing his mother. He was glaring at her like one more misstep and he’d toss her from the balcony.

I reac
hed over and gripped his thigh and he blinked, like my touch roused him from a trance. He glanced at me and gave me a small nod. He was okay for now.

I uncorked the syrup, about to douse my pancake with the sticky sweet sugar u
ntil I remembered. I offered his mother a sympathetic smile. “Sorry we didn’t have any extra, I wasn’t expecting company.” I pointed at the kitchen. “I could whip you up a couple of pancakes real quick if you’d like.”

“
I haven’t had a-” She twisted her mouth. “-‘pancake’ since I was a child. But you’re such a sweetheart for offering.” She shifted her eyes to Jacob. “You didn’t tell me she was so sweet, Jakey.”

My fork clattered to the table.
Jakey
. It sounded so familiar...and then I remembered another woman using the same name. Saying it in the same whiney, sing song tone.

Rachel Laraby.

“Everything okay, Leila?” she purred.

I told myself
it was a coincidence and that Rachel just happened upon the nickname because there weren’t too many variations for a name like Jacob. The only other explanation would be that Jacob lied when he said he wasn’t serious about her. She wouldn’t have had any other reason to have met his mother outside of being his girlfriend and during their meeting, overheard Alicia’s pet name for her son. There was another, less probable reason, but that was even more troubling. Rachel hadn’t tried to contact me or Jacob since Italy--could she have contacted Alicia?

I pushed my suspicions away. It was early. I was hearing things. My nerves were playing tricks on me. “I’m fine
, Mrs. Whitmore. Just a little tired.”

She plucked another
grape from the vine and popped it in her mouth. She chewed it slowly, savoring the silence as Jacob and I watched her.

“My son
doesn’t keep you too busy does he, Leila? I know he can be quite the slave driver--”

“What did
you just say?” Jacob growled, already up, the veins at his temple bulging.

She looked up at him innocently. “What do you mean?”

“Who have you been talking to, Mother?”

I’d never seen him so angry, practically frothing at the mouth. Not even with Cade.

She didn’t even flinch. “Sit down, Jacob. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

I was confused by it all, looking back and forth between the two of them for clarity, but I found none. Every question led to another.
My head was spinning like I’d just stumbled off a Tilt-a-Whirl.

“How about you answer my question or you can get the hell out?” Jacob thundered.

I gaped at him, flabbergasted by his fury, but finding my voice. “Jacob--”

“Oh don’t worry about him,” Alicia said with a flippant chuckle. “We should talk about you and I
, Leila. You’re going to be my daughter after all--and all I know about you is the scraps I can glean from Jacob and skimming tabloid rags in the supermarket.”

“Yet another l
ie,” Jacob scoffed, slowly lowering himself back in his chair. “We both know that it’ll be a cold day in hell before you do your own grocery shopping. There is no luncheon, is there?”

She shrugged a shoulder, bringing her mug to her lips. “People change
, Jacob. Once upon a time I wouldn’t have believed the man who called marriage an ‘arrangement for the deluded and weak’ would ask me for my mother’s wedding ring, but here we are.” She took another gulp and moaned with pleasure. “This is delightful, Leila. French roast?”

I nodded slowly.

She inhaled it for a second more before putting her mug down. “So tell me about yourself. Was it always your dream to be swept off your feet by a charismatic billionaire?”

“I am warning you--
” Jacob glowered.

I gave him
a tight smile. “It’s fine.” I poured syrup onto my pancake. “I studied communication, marketing, and publicity in college and graduated at the top of my class. Someday, I’d like to have my own business. Charismatic billionaire or not.”

“I could tell she was smart,” Alicia said, dabbing the side of her mouth even th
ough she’d only consumed a couple of grapes. “I’m going to use the bathroom then we can finish up here. I know you two had plans other than spending your morning with me.”

Once her stilettos became a muffled tap, I whipped to face Jacob. “What the hell is going on with you and your mother?
And
Jakey
--”

“We don’t have nearly enough time to get into that
right now.”

“Maybe we should make time,”
I hissed. “Because she’s dropping not so cryptic comments about us. About
me
. And I want to know how you could go from that letter I found to not being able to stand being in the same room as her.”

His eyes were still raging,
but he let out a sigh, trying to calm himself. “The day after I wrote her that letter, we had a conversation that changed everything. The things she said…” His voice trailed off and I could tell he was getting riled back up.

My throat tightened. “About me?”

“About everything,” he corrected. “It took my mother and I a long time to work through our past and she went from being so excited about meeting you to swearing she’d put an end to us if it was the last thing she did.”

I dropped my head in my hands. “I don’t understand. I don’t even
know her. What happened to change her mind?”

“I have a feeling that someone
didn’t take lightly to the rescission of our contract.”

“
If you say that crazy woman’s name...” I left it unsaid as I heard his mother’s shoes click excitedly as she breezed back into the room.

“Why don’t we just cut to the chase?
” she said, dropping the niceties. She walked to the island and opened her clutch, pulling out a small rectangular case. When she flipped open the cover, my heart lurched to my stomach. Not many people carried them around anymore, but there was still no mistaking what was in her hand.

A checkbook.

“How much do you need to start your own business and forget this whole marriage thing, Leila?” She clicked her pen and poised the tip on the blank check. “Because the only way I’m letting you marry my son is over my dead body.”

###

Thank you for taking the time to read The Billionaire’s Lust. Please consider leaving a review. xoxo, A.C.

Ava Claire is a sucker for Alpha males and happily ever afters. When not putting pen to paper or glued to her e-reader, Ava likes road tripping, karaoke, vintage fashion, and searching for her own brooding billionaire.

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