The Billionaire's Heir (Taming The Bad Boy Billionaire 4)

Mitchell relaxed another inch but snapped quickly for more champagne.

“Tell me a little about married life.” She grinned enticingly, reaching over to take his father’s hand. “I understand you recently eloped. Is it everything you hoped it would be?”

A wave of bile rose up in my throat, and I wondered if she realized how disgustingly bizarre her behavior was. They were the same age, she and Nick, just 24, yet she was holding his father’s hand, winking at him, and asking about wedded bliss. Is she fucking kidding?

For the first time since I’d known them, I noticed that Mitchell was unable to meet his son’s eyes. He stared instead at the linen tablecloth, as if waiting on pins and needles for a response.

Nick’s face hardened infinitesimally before he forced a smile. “Actually, I’m not sure I’m the best person to ask.”

During his slight pause, his father and I shared a heart attack.

Finally, he added, “I’ve only been married about forty-eight hours.”

Mitchell exhaled silently in relief, and I flashed Nick a quick smile, one that was genuinely returned as he brought the back of my hand to his lips.

“But, yes, so far, it’s everything I hoped it would be...and more.”

Claudia watched us carefully before flashing a saccharine smile herself. “Well, I do hope you’ll be around to help us plan our own wedding.” She shot Mitchell a mischievous grin before dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I have a hunch your father might invite you to be his best man.” She offered another wink of her perfect lashes again, but I couldn’t tell if it was for Nick or her fiancé.

At that point, Mitchell decided not to push his luck. Instead, he snapped his fingers again for a server to clear our plates, then lifted his eyes tentatively to his son. “Care for a drink? You still prefer rum and Coke, do you not?”

Nick stared steadily back. That had not been his drink of choice since about the sixth grade, but he knew his father was trying to make an effort, if only to impress his cradle-robbed bride-to-be. After a second, he glanced down and nodded. “Sure, Dad, that’d be great.”

As Mitchell got up to make the drink himself, Claudia leaned forward once more, this time turning her predatory smile on me. “So, Abby, have you and Nick talked at all about having children? I know Mitchell would love nothing more than a little grandson running around these lawns.”

My stomach performed an Olympics-worthy round of gymnastics flips and somersaults, so violently that I spilled a splash of lemonade on the table. “Oh! I’m sorry!” I said with a squeal of embarrassment, trying to sop it up with a linen napkin.

A trio of expressionless servers rushed forward to take care of it, and they wiped it clean and replaced the drink before I even had a chance to say another word.

“Abby and I aren’t thinking about that right now,” Nick swiftly intervened, taking my hand firmly in his. “We’re still in the early stages, figuring things out. The last thing we want to do is rush into a family.”

A wave of numbness crashed over me, melting from the top of my head down to the tips of my toes and taking my smile with it. “That’s right,” I said flatly. “We don’t want to rush.”

Claudia considered that for a moment before her eyes lit up with a manic gleam. “I couldn’t disagree more. Mitchell and I can’t wait to start a family.”

Oh really? Has she forgotten that Mitchell already has a family, one who is sitting right across from her at the table?

A look of faint amusement flitted across Nick’s face, and I knew he was up to no good. “Is that right?”

“Yes,” she said without a shred of uncertainty in her voice, her eyes dancing as she imagined it the same fantastical dream all the other wives had before her. She was about to marry a billionaire who found women disposable, and she knew the first thing she had to do was anchor him down with kids. “I can’t wait to be a mother.”

Either my gag reflex was on high alert or the woman was literally making me ill. My hand slipped distractedly down to my stomach, and I stifled a shudder, wondering what kind of awful hatchling the succubus might produce. But I knew I had to play nice so I said, “I’m sure you’ll be terrific at it.”

She beamed at me, thrilled by my assessment, before turning back to Nick. “In the meantime, I’m going to get some practice with you.” Then, before he could pull away, she reached across the table and took his hand, flashing him what she clearly thought was an indulgent, maternal smile. “I know this might be a little awkward, Nick, what with the age gap and all, but I’m hoping that in time, you won’t just see me as your stepmother but also as your friend.”

It was a good thing Mitchell set the rum and Coke down when he did, because Nick polished the outdated tonic off in about two seconds flat. He then moved swiftly to his feet, pulling me up with him, and declared, “On that note, I think Abby and I need to settle in.” He flashed his father an indescribable look before pulling open the door to the house. “Will we be in my same room?”

“Yes, son,” Mitchell said quickly, glancing up the stairs. Under normal circumstances, such an abrupt exit would have thrown him into a frenzy, but at that point, the only emotion he seemed capable of was an apologetic kind of gratitude. “Harold laid out some clothes for the two of you. Dinner is at six.”

“Can’t wait,” Nick muttered, pulling me up the stairs with him.

He didn’t look back and didn’t stop moving until we were safely inside our Hamptons bedroom, a monstrous space that was larger than my entire Brooklyn apartment. There was a series of metallic clicks as he secured not one but three separate locks. The second he was finished, he paced swiftly forward and collapsed on the bed.

“It was a terrible idea to come here,” he said, moaning into the comforter. “I can’t do this, not again.”

I laughed quietly and perched on the bed beside him, offering him a sympathetic back rub. “She’s a real snake, isn’t she?” A series of chills ran down my skin as I recalled the conversation. “Thank goodness that salad showed up, or she might have dislodged her jaw to swallow me whole.”

His lips twitched up in a reluctant grin as he flipped onto his back and stared up at me. “They’re always like that, every single one of them.” He shook his head and let out a soft sigh. “It makes me wonder how things ever got started with my mom. She was so...different.”