Love Contract (Bride of the Billionaire)

Again she turns away from me, but this time I let her. It’s the only way I can hide my smile from her. I take the moment to drink her in with my eyes, savoring every curve of my new bride. If I wasn’t sure about keeping her before, I damn sure am now.

7

Daisy

The rest of the ride to the party is awkward as hell – at least for me.

Winter doesn’t say much, but I’m sure he’s used to situations like this. I mean, it can’t be the first time he’s brought a girl he hardly knows to a party, right?

I, on the other hand, still can’t wrap my head around the fact that this is actually happening. I know that there is now five hundred thousand dollars in my bank account, but not really. I guess it would be like seeing the DNA test results showing that Johnny Depp was your father. You’d accept it, but how would you process it?

Also, I’m now married?

It’s all just too crazy to take in, and when we pull up to the party, things get even crazier.

Like a movie, the lavish grounds are littered with people – men in suits, some in tuxedos, and women in gowns, some sleek and flowing, others tight and sexy. There’s more money than I’ve ever seen just in the cars parked out front. I recognize a Ferrari, but that’s about it.

Winter takes my hand and guides me out of the car. I must look like a deer in headlights. I’ve never been less comfortable in my life. Thank God I have Winter here with me.

Jesus, did I really just think that? Thank God for Winter?

Ugh. I really am starting to fall for him, aren’t I?

“Let’s go find my father,” he whispers in my ear. “And stop gawking.”

“I’m not gawking—!”

“You are,” he says sharply. “Just act like you’re better than all this. Everyone else will be.”

And he’s right. Everywhere I look there’s another face of a man or woman who looks like they think they own the world. The men are all wearing watches that I can only imagine the prices of, and the women are practically dripping in diamonds and gold.

“Where’s my necklace?” I ask Winter as he leads me into the home, not quite as spectacular as his, but close.

“You wanna be Cardi B or something?” he asks. From across the room, a silver-fox of a man in a blue suit with the collar open sees us enter and makes his way toward us. I know immediately it’s Winter’s father. “There he is. Remember. You love me.”

“Son.” Winter’s father is speaking to his son, but his eyes are on me.

“Hey, Dad,” Winter replies. “This is my wife, Daisy. Daisy, this is Henrik, my father.”

Henrik takes my hand and smiles. He smiles like he’s drunk, and when he speaks again, the smell of whiskey on his breath confirms it.

“She doesn’t look like a whore.”

I can’t help but gasp but do my best to cover my mouth and pretend like I have something in my throat. Right on time, a waiter passes with a tray of champagne. I snag a glass and take a casual sip.

“Thanks, Dad,” Winter replies stiffly. “She’s the girl I told you I’ve been seeing—”

“What’s my son’s favorite movie?” Henrik asks me.

“Scream,” I say casually. “The first one. He doesn’t like the third.”

“Did he make you watch that silly TV show of his…?” Henrik asks. “What’s…what’s it called? The one with that house full of horny, brainless idiots who can’t have sex?”

With a single glance at Winter, I can see he has no idea what his father’s talking about. Thankfully, I do. “Too Hot to Handle? No. He wanted to, but I refused. I don’t like garbage TV.”

Henrik nods slowly. I can see he’s still not convinced. He takes a step closer and eyes me up and down. I try not to let him see just how uncomfortable I am.

“And tell me this…Daisy. How big is my son’s cock?”