The Billionaire's Purchased Wife Read online

  This is definitely new territory for me.

  “No, my Grace. My name is Victor Serepova. I want you to call me Victor. I was calling you krasota, it’s an endearment in Russia.”

  “What does krasota mean in English?”

  “Moya Krasota roughly translated is my beauty.”

  “It sounds pretty in Russian,” she says, her cheeks blooming with color. She avoids eye contact with me, however. I put my finger under her chin and tilt her face, so she’s forced to look at me. I want those pretty eyes on me.

  “You are the pretty one, Grace.”

  “Mr. Serepova—”

  “Victor. My friends call me Victor.”

  “But, we’re not friends,” she muses, and I can’t tell if she is toying with me or if she means that. I want to be so much more than her friend.

  “Don’t you want to be my friend, Grace? I don’t want to be just an acquaintance in your life. I don’t want that at all. I want to be a part of your inner circle. I want to be an integral part of your life. I want you to let me in, Grace Clarington.”

  “Wow. When you called me and said you had a business proposal for me, I don’t think this is exactly what I was expecting.”

  “If I had called you and told you I wanted to go out on a date with you, that I planned on bringing you into my life, keeping you in my life, and making you happy, would you have gone out with me?”

  “I think maybe I should go home. There seems to be a misunderstanding here.”

  She looks around the room and then at the opposite side of the table, as if she’s trying to figure out how to get over there and away for me. I’m blowing this. Shit! I know I’m blowing this. I can hear Charlie in my head, laughing his ass off. I’m usually so laid-back, easy-going, and here I am screwing it all up. The worst thing about it is, I’m not sure I can fix it. I’ve said too much, came onto strong, and now she’s panicking.

  “I’m sorry Grace. I need you to understand that this is never happened to me before.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. What has never happened to you before?”

  “I’ve never been obsessed with a woman before. I’m not sure what the proper protocol is here. I want you. I’ll do anything to have you. I want to make you mine.”

  “I’m pretty sure—although to be honest, this hasn’t exactly been something I’ve experienced before—but, I’m almost positive that you’re not supposed to tell woman that you’re obsessed with her. It’s not sweet, and to be quite honest it’s more than a little…creepy.”

  “Have I ruined it already?”

  She downs more wine. “That’s the thing, there’s nothing to ruin. I don’t know you.”

  “Grace...”

  “Listen, I’m sure you’re a nice guy. But, I don’t know you and I’m really going through a lot right now. There’s just too much on my plate to try to decipher what your damage is.”

  “My damage?” I ask, disbelief thick in my voice. How come every other woman I’ve ever met would be throwing themselves at me and unless I’m mistaken in my guess Grace is giving me the brush off.

  “I have my father’s company to try and save and if that’s not possible, I’m going to have to sell it off in bits and pieces. That means firing good men and women who deserve the job they’ve invested their lives in. That means letting my father’s legacy completely go. I don’t have time to deal with this.”

  “Grace—”

  “You said you had a proposal for me, I guess I foolishly thought it was something to help me save my father’s business. Obviously, that’s not the case. Which means, I don’t have time for this dinner. I’m sure—”

  “I do have a proposal, and I think you will find that it will solve all of your business woes,” I interrupt.

  “I honestly don’t… Wait. You do have a business proposal?”

  “Well, no. I mean I guess you could look at it like that, but I do…”

  “What are you saying, Mr. Serepova?”

  “Victor,” I correct her.

  “Victor.”

  “I have a proposal, and I think it’s the answer to all of your problems. I mean that’s not my only reasoning obviously. I’m hoping that this might become something you would like to happen,” I respond to awkwardly, not quite how to approach the subject, but she’s not giving me time to explain myself.

  “What kind of proposal?”

  “Grace, I want you to marry me. I want a family. Children. I’m at a place in my life that it’s time to have these things. I’m attracted to you and you need my money.”

  For minute, she’s completely silent. She doesn’t say a word. Shock is evident on her face, and she just stares at me with a stunned expression, her mouth slightly open.

  “You want me to marry you for your money?”

  “I do, get it?” When she doesn’t laugh, I stumble through explaining—like an idiot, an idiot that meeting her has obviously turned me into. “I mean, I’m kind of hoping to get you to say I do.” I’m trying to lighten the mood, but I can see that this is not working just from watching her face. I’m a sinking ship here and I’m going down way too damned fast.

  “So your business proposal isn’t actually about business at all?”

  She’s upset, I knew this, but now I can tell she’s also mad. I know that I’ve gone about this completely wrong, but I have no idea how to fix it, so I just decide to trudge on. I’m a man who always gets what he wants, and Grace is not giving me what I want right now. I could be an asshole and swoop in and take over her father’s company…her whole life, but maybe I’m vain because I want her to want it. To want me.

  “To be fair, I didn’t actually call it a business proposal,” I defend.

  “I think I’m starting to understand now,” she murmurs. She gives me a look that I can’t read. Then she shocks the hell out of me by crawling under the table.

  For a minute, I’m sitting here, transfixed, as she drops down on her knees. Dirty thoughts run through my mind. Thoughts of her on those knees between my legs under this very table. My fingers in her hair, ruining the style…ruining her for all other men. After all, this is the woman that I’ve been dreaming about for days. Then, she goes down on all fours and crawls to the other side of the booth. My eyes are glued to her ass. This taut, bubbled ass that is pressed against the tight fabric of her skirt and sticking out, begging me to smack it.

  Jesus.

  My cock roars to life, pressing against the zipper of my slacks so firmly that impressions of the zipper’s teeth are being permanently branded onto the shaft, my head growing wet with desire. As she disappears from my eyesight, I force my gaze to raise up and watch as she stands.

  Fuck the fact that she did all of that with not one hair falling out of place, turns me on even more.

  “Grace—”

  “I understand, Victor Serepova, that you are certifiably insane. I don’t know what you thought you would accomplish tonight—”

  “Grace, please, let us—”

  Her hand flies up. “I can assure you that not only will I not marry you, but I will also contact Charles and suggest he find you some medical help, because you definitely need it.” Her hand trembles with anger. I’ve wounded her pride because she says, “Marry you, like I’m my father’s chattel. What kind of woman do you think I am, Mr. Serepova? I’m not for sale. You can’t buy me.”

  “Grace, if you would just let me explain…”

  “I don’t want you to explain. In fact, I don’t ever want to see you again. I’m leaving and if you try and follow me, I’m going to call the cops.”

  “Grace—”

  “Goodbye, Mr. Serepova.”

  Then, she just walks away, her back straight, anger evident with every step, and she never stops. She never looks back.

  I let her go, there’s not much more I can do. She’s got me torn up inside. I’m all in knots over her and I don’t know how to handle her. The desire I feel to have her consumes me. It’s all I can think ab
out. I definitely messed this up, I just hope I can find a way to fix it.

  6

  Victor

  “I can’t believe you. I told you that you needed to be careful with Grace,” Charlie laughs.

  “Man, I don’t need you to give me shit here.” I’m embarrassed enough as it is.

  I know Charlie thinks he’s being funny. He’s cracking up at the thought of me getting my ass handed to me by a girl. Normally, I can take his shit—especially since I really deserve it in this case. The problem is, Grace is not just any girl.

  She’s special.

  “I’m just saying, there’s a reason I told you to go slow.”

  “Well, I didn’t, okay? I can’t change that, so I need you to do this for me. I don’t have any other choice and you’re the only one I can ask.”

  “So, you want me to buy her house at full price, and tell her it’s an anonymous buyer?”

  “No, I want you to buy her house at double the asking price.”

  “Jesus Christ, man! Do you realize how much money that is?”

  “I’m worth billions, Charlie. I believe I understand simple mathematics. She needs the money and for now this is the only way I can help her. Pay her double.”

  “Victor, man, I know she’s caught your eye, but you’re talking a lot of money here. Maybe you should step back and think about this. What are you going to do with this house? Hell, you’re not even in Vermont most of the time.”

  “I thought you said Grace was a good woman?” I ask him, starting to get annoyed with him. I want this done and wrapped up. Then, I have to concentrate on how to get Grace to melt towards me. We’re meant to be together. I can’t explain but I knew the instant I saw her that she was the one for me. This is fate.

  “She is. She’s a damn good woman, but Victor, she shot you down.”

  “That won’t stop me.”

  “Maybe it should? I hate to be the bearer of bad news here, but I talked to her after your meeting and she wanted me to have you committed. You might be attracted to her, but I honestly don’t think it’s mutual.”

  “It will be, I just need to win her over,” I tell him. I need something to impress her and soften her feelings toward me. I just have no idea what that is. I’ll figure it out. Grace will submit.

  “If you think buying her house will do that, you’re dreaming. That’s only going to make her hate you more.”

  “What the fuck, Charlie? It’s like you don’t know me. That’s not why I’m buying the house. That’s why you’re doing it anonymously.”

  “Then, what are you going to do?” he persists, and I lower my head and pinch the bridge of my nose, wishing I knew the answer to that question.

  “I wish I knew the answer to that question, Charlie. I really do. You know her, what would you suggest?”

  “Buddy, I’m going to be honest with you. For as long as I’ve known Grace, I can’t remember seeing her with a man once. I’m not even sure she’s ever had a boyfriend.”

  My heart quickens, as my mind moves over the possibilities. The thought that no man has ever touched her has my body shifting into overdrive with desire, but a woman like Grace surely has had suitors. Another thought plagues me and I frown.

  “Do you think she’s into men?”

  “Do you mean is she attracted to them? I believe so, I haven’t heard much discussed either way, to be honest. Though her father did say he was going to have to start setting his daughter up on dates if he was ever going to have grandchildren because Grace is so painfully shy.”

  “She didn’t seem shy last night,” I respond, trying to reconcile Charlie’s description of Grace and the Grace that I met last night.

  “You weren’t on a date with her, Victor. She thought it was a business meeting.”

  “It was kind of a date,” I grumble, knowing he’s right, but needing to respond just the same.

  “Yeah, right. If you had asked Grace out on a date, she would have turned you down before you could even blink.”

  “You’re supposed to be my friend, is there a reason you’re trying to be an asshole?”

  “I’m not doing anything other than stating the truth.”

  “Whatever you say. Do you have anything that might actually prove useful in winning Grace over?” I ask, hating that I have to resort to asking him for help, but not having any choices.

  “Beg?” he suggests in a questioning voice and then, while still laughing, hangs up.

  The bastard.

  7

  Grace

  My stomach is twisted up into knots. I’m running out of time to sell the house. I need to decide what I’m going to do. I go over the offers and none of them are any that I want to accept. My thoughts drift back to Victor Serepova. The conceited bastard who thought I was for sale, but would that be so bad? He’s attractive. Dark hair, that if I’m honest, my fingers itches to touch. Dark eyes that cut into me and make me feel exposed. It felt like he could see straight through my fear.

  Fear of the way he made me feel.

  The way my skin pricked in awareness at his closeness, the way the scent of him, it all made me weak in the knees. The man terrifies and intrigues me.

  My insides quiver at the idea of him saying he would bail me out of financial ruin if I gave him what he wanted. My body…He wanted marriage and children. I always thought I would marry for love but maybe…maybe I could resign myself to his offer. It would solve all of my problems if the offer he presented me with was genuine.

  I shake my head. I can’t believe I’m even considering this but, when I think about how many families will be affected when the company closes its doors if I can’t make a miracle happen, my heart sinks. They depended on my father to employ them and now that falls on me. But if I say yes what does that make me? Love could come later…arranged marriages are a thing.

  We could fall in love…couldn’t we? I bring up Charles’ name on my contact list. He’ll know how to reach him. I’m going to do this. I’m going to say yes to Victor Serepova.

  I’m about to dial his number before I lose my nerve when my cell phone chimes.

  I get alerted to a new text from the agent handling the listing.

  I look at the numbers and I can’t believe it. The new offer on the house is so big that I can’t comprehend it. Maybe I do have a guardian angel after all. If I play it smart, this money can not only pay the mortgage owed, but could float Dad’s company long enough to find investors to help keep it open. If not that, I can at least keep it open long enough so that the employees might be able to find other jobs.

  I still can’t believe that this offer came in so late. I had almost accepted the other offer. This seems like an answer to prayer, or a miracle. I’d given up on believing either of those existed at this point, but apparently, they do.

  The doorbell rings, and I look at it without moving for a minute—I’m too used to having someone answer it for me. Since I can’t afford to pay anyone, that will definitely be changing—that along with a million other things. I found the employees who’d been with my family the longest good jobs in the same community using my friends and my father’s connections. Some of the employees will even be getting pay increases at their new jobs—which makes me happy. I actually don’t mind that I won’t have a maid or butler anymore. I never had them when I was away in school, and the employees we had here were family. We were close in ways that I know I will still stay in touch with them and that’s all that matters.

  I actually need to start looking for houses or apartments to rent, because once I accept this offer, I can’t keep staying here. This won’t be my house any longer. The truth and that hurts more than I could ever explain. In some ways, it’s like losing my father all over again. It’s definitely like losing my mother, because this is the only house that I have memories of her in.

  When the doorbell rings again, I shake my head because I zoned out. The stress is just getting to me, it’s all too much. I walk over to the door wondering if I should just take
the afternoon off. I wouldn’t even have to do anything specific. Even sitting on a park bench will get me out of this house, and maybe I could think about other things, give myself a break.

  It’s not that I don’t have friends. I do. Most of them are busy with their husbands, children, and jobs. I know they would make time for me if I reached out, but I prefer solitude when my mind is racing with so many thoughts.

  I open the door, and gasp at the sight.

  There’s this gigantic bouquet of flowers that’s so huge it’s literally wider and taller than the delivery guy. It’s filled with hydrangeas, irises, lilies, daisies and several other flowers that I recognize, but don’t know the name of. There are even roses thrown in the mix, but the roses are all white. It’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen, and it had to cost a fortune.

  “Delivery for Grace Clarington,” a voice behind the mountain of flowers says.

  “I’m Grace,” I say, still shocked and surprised. I’m touched at the thoughtful gesture.

  I go to hold them, but they’re so big that it’s definitely a struggle. I finally manage to wrap my arm around the large crystal vase and pull it towards me. A young boy, who looks like he is still in school is revealed, smiling at me.

  “Let me just put this down and I’ll get you a tip,” I mumble, turning away from the door.

  “There’s no need, ma’am. The tip is already taken care of.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Definitely. You have a nice day.” He waves while turning to leave.

  I manage to close the door with my hip and carry the flowers over to my desk. I search for a card and finally find it hiding behind a large, pink hydrangea bloom.

  Moya Krasota,

  I let my desire overtake me and upset you. Please know that I want nothing more than to get to know you and spend time with you. I hope you will give me that chance. I wasn’t sure what flowers were your favorite. So I picked the ones I found to be the most beautiful, like you.