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  The Billionaire’s Purchased Wife

  L. Nicole

  The Billionaire’s Purchased Wife

  Copyright © 2019 by L. Nicole

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including but not limited to being stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, groups, businesses, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  WARNING: This book contains sexual situations, violence and other adult themes. Recommended for 18 and above.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Synopsis

  1. Victor

  2. Grace

  3. Victor

  4. Grace

  5. Victor

  6. Victor

  7. Grace

  8. Victor

  9. Grace

  10. Victor

  11. Grace

  12. Victor

  13. Grace

  14. Victor

  15. Grace

  16. Victor

  17. Victor

  18. Grace

  Epilogue

  Epilogue Two

  Bonus Epilogue

  Also by L. Nicole

  About the Author

  As the oldest of four children, Victor Serepova had everything a man could want, except one thing.

  A woman to share it with.

  Jealous of the relationship his brother Nikolai had found with his Gabby, he decided to succumb to pressure and agree to an arranged marriage his father had brokered. They meet and there are no sparks whatsoever, but Victor resigns himself to the bargain.

  Then he meets, Grace.

  Grace Clarington needs rescued more than anyone Victor has ever met. Left alone with all of her father’s debts after his untimely demise, she’s desperate. Victor swoops in and agrees to pay off every debt she owes, including the six-million-dollar foreclosure on her family home. All he asks is for in return is one small thing.

  He wants Grace.

  L. Nicole is back with the latest Billionaire Bad Boy. Victor is a man on a mission. He wants Grace and he’s willing to do anything to get her—even buy her. As always guaranteed safe read, happily ever after, and Insta-love. Life is hard. Take a break from reality.

  1

  Victor

  God, she’s boring.

  That’s the only thought that enters my brain, and I feel horrible for thinking it. It is however the truth. There’s nothing at all that stands out about Maria Fontaine. She’s pretty enough, but there’s no spark, nothing that makes me even a little interested in keeping our conversation going. Her voice is mild, nondescript, and heaven help me it is taking all I have not to yawn.

  I know I’ve decided to get married and start my family. It’s more than time. Seeing Nikolai with his Gabby has made that crystal clear.

  I want what my brother has. Love isn’t something that I am particularly striving for. My brothers and I have always been taught and believe that when you find the one, you know it instantly. Nikolai says he’s definitely found that, and I envy him. But, at my age, if it hasn’t happened yet, I doubt seriously that it’s going to. I’m okay with settling into a marriage of convenience, and that’s what marriage to Maria would be. I get a wife and children and she will get security and children. Our marriage will also form an alliance between two major shipping empires. It all makes sense on paper.

  The problem happens when I’d rather be reading the paper than looking at the woman who is supposed to become my fiancée.

  “Would you like to?” Maria asks and I blink. I have no idea what she’s asking. I don’t know what she’s talking about. Hell, I don’t know what she’s said since about five minutes after I got to our table.

  “I’m sorry, Maria. What did you say?” I ask, the reality sinking in more and more that this isn’t going to work. Her demeanor appears docile and some may want that in their spouse, but I want…passion. Heat.

  More than this.

  We’re at a restaurant, a small café in downtown Burlington, Vermont. It’s our first meeting in person, and if my lawyer and best friend Charlie wasn’t here, I’d feel as if I was drowning. I asked him to accompany me as a safety net, but he is also here to discuss the terms of our prenup agreement. Maria’s lawyer is in attendance also, and I’ve probably spoken more with her attorney than her. To be fair, the man in question is louder and demands attention.

  “I asked if you would like to walk downtown and get to know one another without an audience,” she states calmly. There’s no excitement behind her words at the prospect.

  I should say yes. I shouldn’t feel this panic at the thought of spending time alone with the woman that I am supposed to marry. Still, the thought of bolting from this restaurant surges through me.

  “I’m afraid Victor is unable to do that. We have a pressing engagement that we’re actually running late for,” Charlie—bless his heart—replies in my stead, glancing at his watch. As far as I know, we don’t have anything scheduled, but I’m not about to argue with him either. I want out of here. I figure that Charlie can read me well enough to know that.

  “Perhaps tomorrow, then. There are things we need to discuss if we decide to move forward,” she cautions.

  “I shall call you tonight,” I tell her, standing up. When she goes to do the same, I wave her back down. “Please, you stay and have your dinner. I’ll call you.”

  “Tonight?” A tiny tremor of worry sounds in the edge of her voice. I lean down and kiss her cheek, purposely avoiding her eyes. Does she guess that when I call her tonight that it will be to cancel our agreement? Shit. When I do that, will I be jeopardizing a great connection with our family business?

  “Tonight,” I say quickly, and then do my best to not run as I make my escape.

  I let out a muffled sigh, once I’m back outside. This is a mess, the same exact mess that Nikolai warned me about what I’d be getting into. It’s really annoying when my brother proves to be smarter than I am.

  “So, I take it there’s no need for me to add in Maria’s changes to the prenup?” Charlie questions, and I can hear laughter in the damn bastard’s voice.

  “No need,” I agree quietly. “Jesus, Nikolai was right. This was a mistake. What am I supposed to do now? I’m afraid to go back into the office, in case she follows me there and discovers I lied about needing to leave lunch early. However we handle this, I need to do it carefully so there’s no blowback on the business. Fontaine shipping is powerful in their own right. The last thing I need to do is make an enemy there.”

  “Does that mean you may end up marrying her, for your company’s sake?”

  I frown. The thought of giving the rest of my life to that woman terrifies me. I want a marriage…only not with her.

  “I can’t. If there was even an ounce of attraction with her, I would. But, there is nothing. It would be like sentencing myself to life in prison without the possibility of parole. Except, perhaps prison would be more exciting.”

  “Oh damn.” Charlie laughs. “I think you exaggerate, my friend. She’s very pretty and with that red hair of hers, I’m sure there are sparks underneath the surface. Perhaps you just need to uncover them.”

  “I don’t have the inclination. She’s not what I want, Charlie.”

  “If you are sure.”

  “I am most definitely sure,” I affirm.

  “Would you like
to go with me to see the house that just came on the market in Winooski?”

  “I could, although if I’m not getting married, my reason for buying a home outside of the city of Burlington is more or less null and void. I can continue living in my apartment here when I’m in the country.”

  “I think you should really look at this house, Victor. It’s something else. They don’t come on the market very often in this neighborhood.”

  I start to tell him no, but something about the look on Charlie’s face makes me say yes, instead. There’s this twinkle in his eye that tells me I want to see this house. Besides, I need to try and avoid Maria and her father for the rest of the day…

  “Let’s go,” I say with a shrug and Charlie smiles a smile that almost makes me worried about what he has planned…

  2

  Grace

  “Ms. Clarington, are you sure you want us to open the doors to the garage and stable too?”

  “Are you ever going to call me, Grace, Cal?” I ask, summoning what small smile I can muster for him.

  It’s been a hell of a day, and it’s only half through. I look at my father’s grandfather clock and notice that it’s barely twelve. The open house lasts until six o’clock this evening, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold it together until then.

  My feet hurt, my head hurts, and honestly, all of that pales in comparison to my heart.

  My heart hurts.

  It hurts so bad that I feel like I can’t breathe most of the time. It started when I lost my father to a heart attack three weeks ago. It only got worse when I discovered the dire financial straits that my father was truly in, and the intensity of it is inexplainable at this moment. As I watch strangers mill in and out of my family home, discussing what they would do if they buy the place, how horrible the wallpaper is and how the price I’m asking is way too much… I feel like I might be dying.

  I want to scream at them, throw them out of my house, and curse them until I can’t catch my breath… until the pain inside of me somehow eases.

  I don’t know if it would work, but the temptation to try it is so damn alluring I nearly shake with the urge.

  “I’m not made that way, Ms. Clarington. I work for you.”

  “You’re my friend, and soon I won’t be your employer at all. Will you still call me, Ms. Clarington then?”

  “Probably,” he says with a grin. “I’m a creature of habit.”

  I give him a weak laugh, my heart hurting too much to give him more. “We should probably open up the stables. Let’s have the garage doors open but leave Dad’s private office locked,” I tell him.

  “Will do. It would break your poor father’s heart if he knew what was happening here. He wanted you taken care of.”

  “He tried to protect me too much. If he had told me sooner how bad things were, perhaps I could have helped him.”

  “Your father is a lot like me, Sweetheart. He was from an era when the man of the house was supposed to protect his family, especially his child.”

  I nod, too choked to get words out, because that is who my dad was. The fact is however, if he had told me, maybe I could have helped him consolidate his debts and liquidate some of his assets so we could have saved the house. With his death, that is off the table, and there’s nothing I can do.

  “Grace! Sweetheart, how are you holding up?”

  My head jerks as I hear Charles’ voice from the door. I turn to seek out my old friend and the first real, full smile I’ve felt in a month spreads my lips.

  “Charles,” I breathe, the word barely a sigh. I all but run to him, and he wraps me in his arms.

  “That’s my girl,” he says gently, holding me close. Tears sting my eyes as I breathe in his cologne. The earthy scent soothes me. It’s warm, familiar, and friendly. And today I need a friend. I wasn’t prepared for how hard this would be.

  “Charles,” I whisper again, trying to get control of my emotions. I don’t know how long we stay in our friendly embrace as I do my best to rein in my pain. I can’t lose control, not now and not in front of Charles. I force back the tears, pulling away, and ignoring the bitter way they sting my eyes. “I didn’t know you were coming today,” I tell him, desperately hoping my voice sounds stronger than it feels.

  “I only wish I could have been here sooner, honey. I’m so sorry about your father. I was out of town, or I would have been at the funeral. By the time I learned of his death, the service was already over.”

  Guilt hits me, but I force myself to keep the smile on my face.

  “Dad didn’t want a big service. You know how he felt about parties and having people around,” I respond, playing it off. While all that is very true, I didn’t have a big service for my father because I’m still trying to find the money to pay the basic funeral service now. Having him out additional nights would have cost extra money and the funeral home denied my request, since I could only pay the bare minimum required for the service they did provide.

  “He definitely wouldn’t have wanted a big fuss. I just hate like hell that I missed it. Your father was one of a kind,” Charles says, and I hear the pain in his voice—probably because it mirrors what I feel.

  “He was. He always loved you.” My father was always fond of Charles and spoke well of him often.

  “The feeling was mutual. I hate that you’re having to sell your home, Grace. It’s just not right.”

  “There’s nothing else I can do. I had no idea things had gotten this dire. Dad never mentioned a word of it.”

  A faint smile crosses his features. “He wouldn’t have. He wasn’t cut from that type of cloth.”

  I nod my agreement. Charles is telling the truth, but that doesn’t mean I’m not having a hard time accepting that my father was losing everything and hadn’t even warned me.

  “But, you knew,” I respond, and I see the guilt on his face when he winces at the accusation.

  “Not until recently, and I know you will be upset, but he made me promise not to tell you, Grace. I couldn’t disappoint him or betray his confidence.”

  I know of course, and I feel bitterness move through me in waves, but I lock it down. It won’t do any good at this point. I don’t want to argue with an old friend. My father’s gone and soon my home and most of his belongings will be too. My life will forever be changed and there’s really nothing I can do about it. I will miss the material things of course, but it’s the loss of my father that will break me in ways that I’ll never get put back together again.

  “Are you here to put an offer in on the house?” I ask Charles, only slightly surprised. He always did love my family home.

  “Afraid not. I did however bring a perspective buyer,” Charles replies.

  “You did?” I ask and I don’t recognize joins us.

  “Grace Clarington, may I introduce you to Victor Serepova, of Serepova Shipping. Victor, meet Grace Clarington.”

  “Of Clarington Construction and Innovations,” the handsome man beside Charles finishes. My heart seems to flip in my chest at the sound of his dark voice. It’s abrasive and strong… like rough steel before it’s been honed. The masculine sound dances across my nerve endings, and I swallow down a wave of nervousness.

  “I’m afraid that was my late father. I’m just plain Grace Clarington,” I joke weakly, reaching out my hand to the stranger, hoping he can’t tell that my palm is suddenly sweaty. He brings out a strange reaction in me. I wish I could chop it up to an overload of emotions that I’ve had today, but I don’t think that’s it.

  I think it is just… him.

  “There’s nothing plain about you Ms. Clarington,” he literally purrs. Then, he takes my hand, swallowing it in his much larger one. His touch is unbelievably warm and so powerful my body quakes in reaction. The moment he captures mine, instead of shaking my hand he brings it to his lips. It feels like electricity zaps me.

  No. That’s not it.

  It feels like what I’d imagine being struck by lightning feels like. It’s powe
rful, raw, and exciting all at once. My hand jerks in reaction, but he holds it firmly, refusing to let me go as his lips continue to graze against my hand and knuckles. His kiss is warm and innocent and yet it feels conversely carnal, and I can do nothing but stare at him…

  Thoroughly confused and feeling like my life is about to take another monumental turn.

  3

  Victor

  All I can think is that Nikolai is right.

  There’s no denying it. I’ve finally met the right woman.

  Grace Clarington is it. She’s the one.

  It might sound insane, but I knew the moment I looked at her and when I heard her voice, that feeling only intensified. If I was left with any doubt at all, that changed when I saw her hug my best friend. I wanted to rip Charlie’s head off of his damn shoulders. The urge to do it was so strong that I had to tighten my hand up into a fist to keep from pulling him away from her and beating the hell out of him. I don’t know what I would have done then, but I am pretty damn sure it would have included throwing Grace over my shoulder and dragging her away from all other men and claiming her like some sort of beast.

  Christ.

  I need to get a grip—and maybe I would have if she hadn’t reached out her hand. That’s just too much temptation. The minute my hand closes in over hers… I’m gone.

  There’s no other way to say it. My heart skips and then the beat gets stronger, as if it’s beating in rhythm with hers and is stronger just from her presence. She was made for me.