10. Royce
Iremained by Willow’s side while she slept, observing the bruises and marks on her face. Fury flickered in my chest all over again, eager to beat the crap out of Stuart, end his life—except for the damn promise I made.
From the moment Willow told me about her pregnancy, a burning ember of resentment found its way into my heart. I hated Stuart, but I hated myself even more. And then there was this overwhelming feeling of guilt. If it wasn’t for me, he would have never met her. I should have never allowed the assface to get close to Willow.
I’d never felt such fierce affection for any other woman. I’d never wanted anything to be mine so much that it fucking hurt my chest. Yes, I knew there was a laundry list of reasons why wanting her was wrong—she was having a baby that wasn’t mine, she was my baby sister’s best friend. There was also no way she was into the kinky shit I was, and would probably be disgusted by me if she ever found out. But I couldn’t make myself stop caring for her. If she’d let me, I’d worship her until my dying breath.
As the morning crept and dawn neared, true to my vow, I woke Willow up and carried her to my car.
I flicked a glance her way, at her small form slumped against the leather seat of the Land Rover. Thankfully my brother-in-law had left his car during one of his visits, so I took the liberty of using it this morning. It was a more comfortable option for Willow than my sports car, not to mention safer.
She was fucking beautiful, wearing a pair of leggings that belonged to my sister and the white dress shirt I’d worn to her party. Even with bruises marring her usually flawless skin, Willow was a fucking vision to behold. Her lush dark curls framed her plump cheeks, and something tugged at my heart. It was always like this with her, and I’d been a fool to miss my chance.
She was mine, and that baby growing inside her should have been mine. I’d let time slip away, and I had no one to blame but myself. What a fucking fool I’d been.
Over the years, no matter where in the world we were, something always drew us back together. I was too stupid—and too blind—to see she had a hold on me.
It wasn’t love. It couldn’t be. However, it was a maddening feeling that refused to ease.
Willow’s gaze slid over to me as I shifted gears, making my way to the hotel. The anger ignited in my chest every time I thought of that fucker Stuart, and every mile that brought us closer to our destination heightened it.
My hands curled so tight around the steering wheel that the leather cracked in protest.
“Royce.” Her whisper was enough to cut straight through my fury. Our gazes locked for only a moment, but a knowing gleam shone in her eyes. “You’re mad. I’m mad too. But please don’t be reckless.”
I hid a smile at how well she knew me. “I promise, but it’s about time someone taught that fucker a lesson.”
“Agreed,” she answered, nodding. “To a degree.” After a heartbeat of silence, she continued, “And please don’t pull the big-brother scolding tactic with him.”
My good mood faded at her words. The fact that she’d refer to me as a brother irked me.
“Big brother?” I said, my voice eerily calm.
She offered me a tired smile. “You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t know.” She was never one to hold back, so I kept my expression neutral as I added, “You’ll have to enlighten me.”
She let out a heavy sigh. “Please don’t lose your temper. You’ve always been overprotective and it’s what I like about you, but I don’t want you to end up in trouble because of me. Stuart made his bed, it is time he lie in it. However, not at the expense of your freedom.”
“Do you want any kind of support from him in terms of?—”
“No.”
A cursory glance at her confirmed she meant it, and my expression softened. “And your… his… your baby?”
Jesus, it took all my willpower to say it. The metallic taste of blood on my tongue matched the distaste of Stuart having any connection to Willow or the baby. Not because I was jealous—although, yes, I was—but mainly because the man was dangerous, and Willow’s face was a stark reminder that she would never be safe around him.
After a long silence, she finally responded with resignation.
“Obviously I can’t stop him from coming around his own child, but the baby’s safety will be my priority. My m?e always said that if a man hits you once, they’ll do it again. If they cheat on you once, they’ll do it again. And I trust she’s right.”
“Good.” I exhaled a long, slow breath and pushed a hand through my hair. I agreed wholeheartedly, and it was exactly that which had me questioning for years whether I was good enough for Willow. I didn’t cheat—not exactly, although my sexual preferences could be perceived as such. Degradation, praise, masochism, spanking, and sometimes even tying my partner up and whipping them.
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
Frustration and self-loathing burned beneath my skin. Right now, all I wanted was to be what Willow wanted and needed, but I was fairly certain that her finding out about my affinity for BDSM would forever change her perception of me.
And that I couldn’t handle. I couldn’t lose her as a friend too.
The pressure in my chest expanded while her clean, warm scent filled the car, intoxicating me while clouding my head.
I stayed silent for several blocks, weaving through parts of Lisbon, my mind running a million miles an hour. There had to be a way to help her out of this mess—a way to help ease my guilt at having brought Stuart into her life.
We were sitting at a red light when the solution hit me like a ton of bricks.
“We are getting married.” Twin flames ignited into a full-blown inferno in my chest with the words out in the open, bouncing off the Land Rover’s windows like a ping-pong ball.
Willow sat up straight, staring at me wide-eyed. With each passing second, I was certain it was the best idea of my life.
“We’re what now?”
My pulse beat a furious rhythm as I pulled over a block from the hotel and locked eyes with her.
“We’ll get married,” I repeated patiently. The roughness of my voice matched the intensity of my emotions. Goddammit, I needed to get a grip before I scared her away. “There’s no better way to make Stuart understand he’ll never have you. Depending on how this next hour goes with the motherfucker, he’ll live, but he won’t step foot in your baby’s life.” Although I told myself that I was doing this for her, I knew it was entirely for selfish reasons. “You don’t want me to kill Stuart, and I don’t want him thinking he can ever get close to you. I may have connections in the underworld and access to more weapons than a small army, but Stuart has connections too. He also has an ego that won’t enjoy being bruised.”
I had no desire to ever again experience the terror that gripped me when I found Willow hurt in front of my home. Even more terrifying was the possibility of me not being there.
Surprise crossed her face, and she tilted her head in what I hoped was consideration of my proposal. It wasn’t the most romantic one, but it was out in the open, and I refused to take it back.
“Royce, I’m pregnant.” She spoke slowly, as if she were speaking to a child.
“I’ll take care of you and the baby.”
“But—” Her sentence cut off with a soft gasp when I wrapped my hand around her nape, closing the distance between us.
“Marry me, Willow.” Insecurity, such a strange and unfamiliar feeling, snaked its way into my heart. “We’re best friends. We already know we get along. We can make it work.”
“That’s not exactly the way I envisioned…” She faltered, swallowing, before she added, “A proposal.”
“Fuck normal, Willow. This is you and me. I promise to protect you, honor you, and be good to you and your baby.” The roughness of my voice startled me, but not more than the intensity of these feelings twisting inside my chest.
“But I’m broke and jobless.”
The moment the words were out of her mouth, she knew she slipped. Our gazes met and awareness flushed through her with the knowledge it was another secret she’d kept from me.
A stray strand of hair wisped around her face and I lifted my hand to tuck it behind her ear. The touch was light and reverent, and a tiny shiver racked her body. I couldn’t tell if it was a positive or negative reaction, so I focused on her face instead.
“When did you lose your job?” My voice was soft with a hint of vehemence.
“A few weeks ago.” I remained quiet, seeing the lie on her face. “A little over a month ago.”
“Why?” Chewing on her bottom lip, she was probably debating whether it was wise to lie or not. “I want the truth, Willow.”
She sighed in resignation. “Stuart showed up during one of the productions and lost his temper. My boss didn’t take it well.” She swallowed. “He wasn’t fond of physical violence.”
No. Fucking. Shit.
“And you hid it from me, why?”
“I don’t know.” She faltered, embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “I’d learned I was pregnant earlier that week, and it felt wrong to run to you.” Another shiver rolled down her body and I closed my eyes, drawing on my patience. “I felt like such a loser.”
Her dark lashes lowered, throwing shadows against her cheeks, and I pressed my forehead against hers for a moment before getting myself together.
“You should always run to me.” She remained quiet, her eyes glistening with emotions that gutted me. “No matter what, when, or how. You come to me. Understood?”
She nodded.
“You still want to go through with your plan with an unemployed woman?” she murmured.
“Absolutely. You’ll never have to worry about money again. Not when you’re with me. Besides, you’re brilliant. You can help me with my company.”
She let out a strangled laugh. “I know nothing about your investment strategy. I can’t help you with it, not if you want to remain a billionaire.”
I had inherited the majority of my fortune, but I also expanded it—much like my brothers—by investing in real estate, stocks, and a start-up of several successful recreational stores.
“Then be a trophy wife. Anything you want.” Restraint and emotions roughened the edge of my voice. There was no way I was letting her go. She was mine to protect.
“I’m pregnant, and the baby isn’t?—”
She was trying to find reasons why we shouldn’t be together, and I wouldn’t have it.
“I’ll give you and the baby a beautiful life.” She shot me a dubious look, still unconvinced, but refusal wasn’t an option. Not anymore. “I vow on my mother’s life.”
She sighed. “I believe you, but I’m not your problem. Nor is my baby.”
“You’re under my protection, so is the baby. And just so we’re clear, you’re not my problem. You’re my solution.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Huh?”
My mind was working furiously. “You’ll be doing me a favor.”
“How’s that?”
“It will give me peace of mind to know you’re protected.” My eyes dropped to her lower abdomen. “Both of you.”
A frown creased her brow. “That’s… I’m grateful… flattered that?—”
“Do it for me,” I interjected. “If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me.” I was grasping at straws here, trying to come up with a reason to convince her why this was a good idea. “You’ve jumped in for me at the business events I attend that offer me a plus-one. If we’re married, I don’t have to worry about it.”
She snickered softly. “Yes, and I know how easy it is for you to find a date.”
“But none of them are…” I let the unspoken word hang between us. I didn’t want to scare her away, so I quickly reined in my emotions. “Those women don’t stimulate me. Plus… they’re not helping me restore my image. The tabloids have been costing me business. I can’t let the people who rely on me for their livelihoods suffer because of some bad press.” Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth, contemplating my words. “It’ll be a win-win for both of us,” I added.
I brought my thumb around and pressed it against the base of her neck where her pulse drummed.
“So… it would be strictly platonic?” She studied me with a defiance that I’d come to know well over the years of our friendship. “Because the last thing I need right now, Royce, is to be a footnote in your book, or anyone else’s for that matter.”
“Strictly platonic,” I agreed. For now. Because Willow was so fucking wrong.
She could never be a footnote in any book. She was the book, a whole encyclopedia.