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Chapter Six
Lucas
"You flatter me." The truth was that I was more than flattered; I started to get aroused, becoming rigid from her compliment. "But I mean it—I think this arrangement is going to be mutually beneficial for both of us. I'd like to keep it as professional as possible." I willed my traitorous cock to fall in line.
She nodded. "Whatever you say, boss."
"Can you stop calling me boss?"
"Of course. Sir." She smiled at me, teasing.
The rest of our meal was subdued, spent discussing the pros and cons of each wedding venue and arguing about who had ordered the better entree. Dinner with Blake was, of all things, pleasant. I patted her hand as we pulled up outside of The Stratum. "I'll see you at some point tomorrow. Dinner with my family is at six. Ian's at your disposal, so feel free to go shopping or out to eat, whatever you like. I left a credit card for you and some cash in the kitchen. There's also a gym in the basement of the hotel, which you're free to use. Housekeeping keeps me stocked with food and wine. Please help yourself."
"That's really nice of you," Blake said. "I appreciate how generous you're being. The article about you in the Globe didn't do you justice."
"What—you don't think I'm a self-serving, ruthless egoist?" I grinned, oddly touched that she'd read up on me. "With a zombie-like appetite?"
"That's the one."
"See? You do flatter me. Most people take that article as gospel." I reached over and squeezed her hand again then pulled away quickly. "See you tomorrow."
The valet opened Blake's door. "Good night," she said. I'm pretty sure I flattered myself by imagining that her tone was wistful.
And with that, Blake headed toward the lobby, alone. I watched her easy stride, her blond hair flowing past her shoulders. Down, boy, I thought, but I only felt my erection thicken. Great. I was going to be jerking off at work again.
But that was better than the alternative: sleeping with Blake. Because then I would really never get her out of my head.
My cock didn't care about all that. It wanted to tell Ian to turn around so that I could go back and take Blake to bed. What the actual fuck of my own making, I thought, as we headed back downtown.
It was going to be a long year.
"What do you mean, meet your fiancée?" my father roared.
"I mean just what I told your assistant: I'm engaged. You will be meeting Blake, my fiancée, tonight at six p.m. Feel free to bring my step-monster. She's included in the reservation. Oh, and Serena will be there as well. Should be fun." I hadn't felt this giddy since I'd made my first billion and considered myself financially independent from my family.
"Since when do you have a fiancée? Since when do you have a girlfriend, or even go on a date, for the love of God?" My father sounded exasperated.
"As you know, I took some time off from dating after Elizabeth left me for you." It didn't hurt my pride to say it out loud anymore. "But seeing as I'm in my mid-thirties, I thought it would be the appropriate time for me to settle down and start thinking about a family."
My father scoffed. "And to inherit your trust."
"And to inherit my trust," I agreed. "The timing's perfect. I'm in love, Blake said yes, and now I finally get the money intended for me. You don't have a problem with that, do you? Seeing as it's not your money in the first place?" Franklin Ford was affluent in his own right, but my mother's family's vast wealth far eclipsed his.
My father clucked his tongue. "Of course I don't have a problem with it. I just want to make sure that you're doing this for the right reasons."
I started laughing; I couldn't help myself. "Suddenly, you're worried about the right reasons?" My father and I had never really discussed what had happened with Elizabeth. It was simply that one day she was my girlfriend, and I was happy—at least I thought I was—and the next, she'd moved in with my widowed and extremely wealthy father.
The same year my mother died.
I'd had to do some soul-searching for the reason she'd done it. I was wealthy in my own right, I was young and attractive, and I'd even been reasonably attentive to Elizabeth. But she always liked to be naughty. She always wanted to do the "bad" thing—sex in public places, she wanted me to spank her, stuff like that. I thought it was sort of hot until I realized, after she left me for my father, that what my girlfriend had was a classic case of daddy issues.
I guessed he did something for her I couldn't. I preferred not to think about it any further.
"Son, I know the topic makes you uncomfortable—"
"Oh, please, please don't try to talk to me about it now. It's been years. I resigned myself to the fact that you're a dirty old man who married my ex-girlfriend when my mother, your wife, had just passed away." That was the thing that upset me the most. I hadn't stopped mourning my mother, and my father had moved on at warp-speed. Time-warp speed.
He sighed. "Someday, when you're a lonely old man, you might understand. Besides, I know you don't believe this, but Elizabeth and I love each other. Very much."
