CharmaineLouise Books — VIP Subscribers Exclusives!
CharmaineLouise Books — VIP Subscribers Exclusives!
Glitzy. Glamorous. Steamy.
The Latest Trilogy in STEELE International, Inc. - Jackson Corporation A Billionaires Romance Series Crossover:
Read on for your exclusive VIP Subscriber First Peek for Grant My Desires Lachlan & Haley Part III Chapters 1, 2, and 3. Read on then click here to pre-order your copy today from Amazon to have in on your device at midnight on Tuesday, November 16. Kindly leave a review for other readers to know your thoughts.
Enjoy! xoxo Charmaine Louise
“I never thought I’d say this to you. I always figured it would be Lachlan I’d have to curse out—hell, even beat my best friend’s ass—over you. But oh, no… Haley, you messed up, didn’t you?”
My eyes widen at my brother’s declaration.
Sebastian Steele, the eldest of The Big Four—as I nicknamed my overbearing brothers. Or The STEELE Quaternity as the media dubbed the multibillionaires for being the most sought-after of the world’s eligible billionaires. Their near-limitless wealth, power, and good looks attract women like bees to honey.
Well, three of them are out of the lineup, including Baz with Lola, then Malcolm The Enforcer with Starr, and Roger The Responsible with Leonie. My fraternal twin, other half of the Dynamic Duo, and youngest of the four, Harris, still clings to his playboy card like a life preserver in a tsunami.
Baz pins me with his platinum gray eyes—a Steele trait along with ebony hair and olive skin tone. As I stare back at my handsome brother, I can agree with women finding them attractive. At six feet, four inches with a muscular frame, he towers over me, and I’m no petite woman at five-eight. An Alpha Dom who oozes sex appeal with no effort whatsoever, women can’t help but to vie for his attention.
However, Lola—his petite spitfire wife—snagged him. Her Independent Woman-cum-sub proved too much for Baz to resist. Their passionate love affair started with a meeting for her luxury lingerie company, Lola’s Coterie, then had its fair share of setbacks. So he can speak from experience about relationships with trials.
“You know how I know? Lachlan’s been evasive for weeks. At first, his excuses of work made sense to prepare for time away during your honeymoon. But when he didn’t have time to see me while I was at STEELE Aberdeen—in your own backyard—I knew shit was fucked up. Even then, I assumed he was at fault. But now, paying more attention to you, I can tell you’re the one at fault, Haley. What did you do?”
Effortlessly, Baz shifts between older brother and leader. An ability he’s cultivated over the years as the leader of our siblings. Then most recently as the CEO of STEELE International, Inc. It’s our family’s multigenerational, multibillion dollar luxury real estate development and management company based in New York City with global offices and properties.
After his retirement a few years ago, our father, Morgan, trusted Baz to carry the legacy into the future. My brothers and I respect him and accept his leadership. Each sibling works at STEELE: Malcolm president of the Entertainment Properties Division; Roger, president of the Residential Properties Division; Harris and I, as the tech wizzes coder and hacker, respectively, co-founders of our subsidiary STEELE Technology and Cyber Security.
Our mother Michelle—known as Shelley by those closest to her—runs STEELE Foundation that builds and manages attractive, affordable housing for urban, lower-income families. The name is a play on the house foundation, being strong and supportive like steel. The annual fundraiser at my parents’ beachfront mansion within our family’s compound—Steele Southampton Village—marks the end of the summer season. It’s a well-attended event that generates millions each year.
She met our father when she was a shopgirl at a STEELE retail property. A native New Yorker with an independent streak and a feisty personality, she captivated our father who’s ten years older and an Alpha Dom. Married for almost forty years, my parents have a relationship to strive for.
Baz and Lola, Malcolm and Starr, Roger and Leonie, Lachlan and me.
Lachlan, my teenage crush turned first and only lover now husband. Well, at least for now…
It’s been six weeks since Lachlan left our penthouse flat in Aberdeen, Scotland after a major disagreement.
Sixteen years ago, when I was sixteen and he was twenty, I realized I was in love with Baz’s best friend and our cousin. That summer, my mind finally admitted I couldn’t deny my attraction to Lachlan.
With gorgeous movie-star looks similar to the debonair Cary Grant, his rugged masculinity and charm leave women breathless. A six-foot-four-inch well-formed frame and blazing emerald green eyes, thick, sable brown hair slicked back from his chiseled cheekbones, and strong jawline with a cleft chin adds to his allure. Not to mention a swoon-worthy Scottish lilt lessened by years spent in the United States. Jackson. Lachlan Jackson.
Best friend or cousin no longer mattered to me.
Cousin since our mothers are best friends who formed a closer bond than they have with their blood siblings and relatives. Blood isn’t always stronger. It’s those who treat you with respect and love you that count above all.
Lucinda—aka Lucie—as fate would have it, also married a billionaire ten years her senior and an Alpha Dom, Connor Jackson. She ran away from a less than stellar life in New Orleans to New York City and became a bartender in one of their pubs. Jackson Corporation’s—their Aberdeen-based, multigenerational, multibillion-dollar global company—repertoire includes fine dining, distilleries, and vineyards worldwide.
The Jackson’s Irish and Scottish family created the finest single malt Scotch Whiskey and became billionaires years ago. King James VI titled the Jackson family as Marquess of Huntly with their family seat—Jackson Castle—in Banff, Aberdeenshire.
To go from a regular working girl to the Marchioness of Huntly is just plain ole wow! Another fairytale like my parents’ romance.
Aside from Lachlan the first son, and the heir to the family seat with the title Earl of Aboyne, they have Lydie the eldest, Lucien The Sexy Chef, and Laurent. All of them take after the Jackson clan with green eyes and dark brown hair. And like The STEELE Quaternity, they refer to the boys as The Jackson Trio for their multibillionaire, power, and bachelor status.
With Connor as the CEO, each sibling works at Jackson Corporation: Lydie, Overall Vice President and Vice President of the Board; Lachlan, President of Liquor and Second Vice President of the Board; Lucien, President of Jackson Corporation Restaurants/Bars/Lounges and Third Vice President of the Board; Laurent, Director of Jackson Corporation Cigars Division and member of the Board.
Lucie runs Jackson Foundation that operates alcohol treatment centers for lower-income individuals and support for their family members. The annual fundraising gala is the highlight of Aberdeen’s social calendar. Patrons from across the United Kingdom and the world attend.
The Steele and Jackson Matriarchs being best friends carry beyond us being cousins into our family businesses. STEELE serves and sells Jackson products in STEELE properties around the world, as well as in Jackson restaurants, pubs, stores, and businesses.
Just thinking about how close we are makes my heart clench with sadness.
Before Lachlan left me, he dropped the gauntlet: “It will either be a vow renewal or a divorce. The choice is yours, Haley.”
Some days it feels like six months. Others six long years. I miss him so much I ache. A hole sits in my chest where my heart belongs. I rub the spot as Sebastian speaks. In hopes the new habit I developed will ease the pain.
Although, as Baz stated, this time I fucked up. Big time.
Despite my teenage crush, neither Lachlan nor I acted on our feelings. It wasn’t until three years ago I learned his view of me as Baz’s kid sister and a little cousin morphed into an attraction that summer too. He wasn’t the one to make the move, though. I did.
After a year of bliss, where he insisted we keep our relationship a secret to prevent Baz from losing his mind and ending their friendship, or worse, I couldn’t accept second place and left. Lachlan and I spent a year apart, during which I reconnected with a classmate from Harvard Business School—our family’s legacy school, along with Harvard undergrad.
Callum Graham, Duke of Montrose. Another handsome Scottish billionaire with green eyes and long blond hair whose father is grooming him to lead his family’s Graham Energy, Oil & Gas Company, based in Aberdeen. He’s also an Alpha Dom four years older than me who could have had my heart if it were not for Lachlan.
During our time apart, Fiona Ridel—Princess Fiona the Fair of the enchanted violet eyes and ash blonde waist-length hair—continued her crusade to capture my Lachlan and his ring. The thirty-one-year-old Scottish heiress who his father wanted to make Lachlan’s bride and mother to his heirs…
Despite almost a year with Callum, I couldn’t help but to go back to Lachlan when he professed his love for me in front of our families. The Big Four were none too pleased. But I could not care less. Lachlan Jackson was mine without hiding from our families.
On a trip to Sorrento, we encountered a crowd of people dressed in white heading to Chiostro di San Francesco. A mass wedding was about to occur. In the spur of the moment, Lachlan dropped to one knee and proposed.
Once again, we shrouded our relationship in secrecy. Only our families knew of our nuptials. At my insistence. This time it was my need to make the perfect impression on Scottish society, nobles, and royals. I agreed with Mom Lucie’s suggestion we have an engagement party, then have my fairytale wedding at Jackson Castle and announce it as a vow renewal. Which led to Callum still pursuing me and Fiona sidling up to my Lachlan even though she and Callum claimed to be a couple.
Six months later and three before our public wedding, Lachlan lost his shit when Callum—who trapped me outside of the ladies’ room at a fundraising gala in Aberdeen—asked if I was married to Lachlan. I denied it. They fought. We left. We fought. He left.
All of this time, I continue with the wedding preparations and working as though nothing is amiss. I decided not to tell my family—not even my girls Lola, Leonie, and Starr or Blair and Billie Lola’s CMO and COO, respectively—because the reality was too painful.
It hurt less not to face the fact Lachlan left and wouldn’t answer my calls, text messages, emails, smoke signals with more than one-word responses.
I stayed at our Aberdeen penthouse flat for two weeks. But Lachlan didn’t come home and refused to tell me where he was staying. A trip to his office provided the news he was out of the country on business with no return date available.
So I returned to our newly remodeled duplex penthouse in The STEELE Tower on Billionaires Row at Fifty-seventh Street and Fifth Avenue in New York City. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that, I suppose. But then again, I guess not since I had no idea Lachlan returned to Aberdeen according to Baz. So my husband doesn’t miss me. At. All.
No one found it weird Lachlan and I weren’t together since I travel to work with my clients in their offices around the world directly. He’s not involved so much in our wedding planning since Sergeant Shellie and Lieutenant Lucie run it with some of my input. Easy peasy…
At least I thought I was doing a pretty good job of being normal. Until now. Obviously my ruse didn’t work since Baz all but glares at me. Damn.
“Oh, Baz,” I wail as I slump back against the leather sofa in the living room. My dove gray eyes fill with tears.
He moves from the silk-upholstered chair to sit beside me. One arm wraps around my shoulders to pull me to his massive chest while a hand sticks a loose tress of my waist-length ebony hair behind my ear.
Patiently, Baz waits for me to let it all out. I sit back with a hiccup and dab the wet spot on his black cashmere v-neck sweater. He shoos my hand away with a chuckle.
“I don’t think that will do it, Hal,” he says. Then he goes to the bar and pours two Waterford Crystal snifters of Jackson Special Blend Scotch. “It may be three in the afternoon. But I think this situation requires more than tea. Wouldn’t you agree?”
I nod, and he hands a snifter to me.
“Now, fess up,” he commands all Alpha Dom.
I take a gulp of the fragrant amber liquid for courage, then cough. It may be smooth, but not a toss-back liquor for my alcohol-consumption level.
Baz laughs and shakes his head.
“Go on,” he says. His request not to be denied.
Knowing I can trust my brother to not make me feel like a fool—albeit I am one—I confess the whole sorry tale of that horrible night. As expected, he gives me sage and to-the-point advice.
“Get your ass back to Aberdeen and fix this shit, Haley Jackson! Now.”
An hour later, I’m aboard my Gulfstream G650ER private jet bound for my husband.
“Lachlan. Baby. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me, my love. I miss you more than you can imagine. Please, My Lord. I love you, Lachlan Jackson.”
My wife’s warm breath skims across my cheek as she whispers words of love and forgiveness. Moisture dots my skin as her tears fall to my face. A soft sob escapes from her full lips.
With the hungry growl of a beast deprived of his mate for weeks, I grip her hips and roll her lush body beneath me. Soft curves meld to firm angles—including my suddenly rock-hard ten-inch cock—as our bodies align on the bed. The too large for only me king-size bed.
My wife’s sob turns into an equally hungry groan as my mouth crushes hers. A shudder wracks her body as my tongue forces its way past her parted lips to taste every inch of her warm, wet mouth.
Our tongues duel for dominance. But the Alpha Dom in me will have none of it. My sub will obey. I growl, and she shivers. A nip to her plump lower lip and a tweak of her beaded nipple has me swallowing her moans of carnal pleasure.
My bare cock twitches against her belly.
Fingers trail along my flank, across my v cuts to seek out my heavy arousal. The wandering tips barely touch my thick shaft when I growl and yank the arm over her head. One sizable hand pins both of her wrists against the white silk sheets. She gasps into my mouth. I swallow it.
Still in need of a deeper connection between us, her legs part to cradle my pelvis to hers.
I allow the mischievous behavior. The warmth at the apex of her thighs welcome me. I grind against her groin as I purr in carnal delight.
“Oh, Lachlan… Do you forgive me?”
Sh pants as I suckle the sensitive skin behind the shell of her ear.
“Tell me… Do you?”
My mouth trails down her neck as my mind remains oblivious to her questions.
She wriggles beneath me. Her arms push up on my palms.
My biceps flex to tighten my grip on my wayward wife.
Her sharp cry snaps me out of my lust-filled haze.
“Lachlan… Are you even awake?”
I shake my head to clear it further.
What does she mean? I’m—
“Lachlan, baby. You’re still sleeping.”
What the bloody fuck?
My eyes pop open.
They take a moment to adjust to the darkness. But I don’t need my vision to sense Haley. Imprinted on my brain, her elegant perfume fills my nostrils. A delicate yet intense floral scent of jasmine, orange flower, and musk blend harmoniously. The contrast like my woman—sensuous yet innocent.
Except she’s not innocent.
To Callum Wanker Graham, of all fucking people. Her ex-boyfriend. My archenemy.
I sit back on my haunches and run my hands over my three-day stubble and through my tousled hair. Then tug the strands. Perhaps the pain will help clear the last vestiges of my wet dream from my muddled head.
Haley scoots back against the headboard and stares at me.
I stifle a groan at my aching blue balls as I climb off the bed to turn on the nightstand lamp. Without glancing in her direction, I stride towards the en suite bathroom.
Time for my millionth and one cold shower…
Minutes later I return to the bedroom in black, low-slung sweatpants. My muscles ripple as I pad barefoot across the floor.
Haley still sits on the bed with her arms wrapped around her bent knees. The luxurious curtain of her ebony wavy hair covers her face as her cheek rests against her forearms.
Again, I don’t have to see her fully to know exactly what she looks like. Gorgeous. My beautiful Baby Girl, sub, wife. Long, thick lashes brush her cheeks with her dove gray eyes closed. The dimples in her cheeks not pronounced until she laughs. Flawless skin on a heart-shaped face. Cheeks that bloom a beautiful pink when she screams my name in ecstasy or crimson when angered. Kissable moist lips—and not just on her face.
I shake my head again. Get ahold of yourself, Lachlan, I chide.
But it’s been much too long without my wife. I miss and love her more than she can imagine. Yet, I refuse to give in. Too much secrecy again and again. It’s not good. For her. For me. And definitely not the best for our fledgling marriage.
Sure, I went along with her and my mother to keep the truth about our marriage under wraps until the wedding. I damn sure don’t want to make it difficult for my wife to join society that extends beyond Aberdeen to nobles and royals throughout the world. God knows I’ve hated being bothered with it all my whole life. But one does what one’s wife wishes. And I plan to make every single wish of Haley’s come true.
Even if it means time apart.
She needs to get her head together. There comes a point when one can no longer deny the truth. Case being Graham taunting her about the veracity of our marriage. I thought my head would explode when she answered no.
Instead, I walked away. Best to have space than an all-out end. Although I gave her the options. If her words hold truth, then it’s vow renewal and not a divorce.
“It’s best we have this conversation in the living room,” I tell her as I head for the bedroom door and open it.
The rustle of fabric precedes Haley walking through the doorway ahead of me. An oversized off-the-shoulder sweater and leggings can’t hide her curves from my eyes.
My arms ache to pull her close to my chest and bury my face in her hair. Not yet.
She settles on the sofa. I take a chair. She frowns at my seat choice. Not yet.
“Lachlan, did you hear what I said to you before we kissed?” She asks as she fiddles with her fingers on her lap.
In the light of the living room’s lamps, I take a moment to absorb her beauty. Damn, I missed this woman. It’s just so dumb we wasted six weeks apart over nonsense. My hesitancy makes her bite the corner of her mouth as she tries to hold back tears glistening in her dove gray eyes.
“I thought I was dreaming. So kindly repeat what you said,” I respond, wanting to be certain with no doubt of her feelings. Plus, she needs to repeat her apology. Again and again.
I sit back and fold my arms over my bare chest. Then smirk when her eyes widen at my bulging muscles.
Aside from countless cold showers and working nonstop, I hit up the Scottish Arts Center training in Historical European Martial Arts even more than usual. A hefty Highland broadsword and targe certainly amp up my upper body. While the footwork strengthens my legs. Plus bare knuckle fighting and free weights…
Not that I was a shrimp before. Hell naw. But five times a week will boost any body to the next level. And Haley is beyond impressed, I chuckle to myself. Then flex.
She blinks and clears her throat.
With a determined expression, she rises from the sofa and kneels before me. Her left hand reaches for mine. The Jackson Emerald glints in the low light. It’s our most important family’s heirloom. The thirty-three carat, flawless, pure green, Colombian emerald has an octagonal step-cut set on a diamond platinum band.
Along with other traits, an emerald can signal unfaithfulness if it changes color. A glimpse of it shows the deep green hasn’t changed a bit. Not that I expect Haley to cheat on me. She didn’t for a year during her time with that bloody wanker.
I take a deep breath and give my hand to her. The sight of Haley on her knees makes me want to throw her to the floor and ravish her until the sun rises, then some more.
“Lachlan, I’m so sorry. I was wrong to deny our marriage. It doesn’t matter what anyone says. They can go fly a kite! I miss you, baby, and I love you even more. Please forgive me,” Haley states with imploring eyes as she squeezes my hand between both of hers.
I close my eyes as waves of emotions roll over me.
The weight of her body as she climbs onto my lap makes me open them. She cups my face between her palms. Our gazes lock.
“I love you, Lachlan Jackson. You are my man. Mine! Now forgive me so we can put my madness behind us. Do you understand?”
I laugh out loud at her use of my Alpha Dom question I put to her. She flipped the script. But again, I allow—conditionally.
She squeals when I flip her over onto her belly, yank her leggings down to her knees, and rip her lace G-string off. The tug against her sensitive flesh elicits a yelp and her attempt to close her legs.
I wedge a leg between hers and place both of her wrists crossed against the small of her back.
She tosses her long hair over a shoulder and growls.
I chuckle wickedly.
“Oh, no, Naughty Girl. You will pay the price for your unacceptable behavior,” I say. “Did you think your words of love and forgiveness would be enough for your transgression?”
She sputters, then gasps as the first of many spanks land on her round ass in quick succession. Her hips gyrate as the pain morphs into erotic delight. The tips of my fingers smack her pussy lips and come away soaked. She hisses and bucks.
The room fills with the squelching sound of my hand smacking her wet pussy and her wails. The musky scent of her arousal blooms all around us. It increases when I thrust two thick digits inside of her core. The inner walls clamp around them greedily.
My Naughty Girl undulates against my cock caught between her hip and my eight-pack abs. It strains against my sweatpants, forming a tent beneath the soft cotton. I ignore my carnal needs.
Her punishment continues until she lies spent over my thighs. Gasps and sobs fall from her mouth as her tears drip to the floor.
I remove her leggings and flip her around to straddle my legs. My hands knead the heated, swollen flesh of her ass.
She whimpers and buries her face in my neck as she wraps her arms around my shoulders.
“I—I—I’m so sorry…” she croaks.
My purrs soothe her.
Moments later, I speak.
“Haley, you are my wife, and I love you beyond measure. Let this serve as a lesson for both of us. No more secrets, and no one comes between us ever again.”
I rise and carry my wife to our bedroom where I strip the sweater and her lace bra off, then place her on the mattress on her belly. A hand to her lower back keeps her still. I go to the en suite bathroom and return with a moistened cloth and a tube of cooling gel. I wipe her face and smooth her bottom before I kiss both and tuck her in the bed.
“But Lachlan, we need to talk—”
I hush my wife as I spoon behind her and groan when my groin connects with her hot ass.
“Later in the morning after breakfast,” I say.
She yawns and nods, sleepy from the intensity of her erotic spanking.
I wrap my arms around her and bury my face in her fragrant hair.
My Baby Girl is home at last.
Where she belongs.
“Why didn’t you tell me, brother?” Baz asks.
We’re on the terrace of his and Lola’s duplex penthouse at The STEELE Tower. My Baby Girl and I flew in yesterday for Lola and Starr’s joint virtual baby showers viewed via giant screens Haley and Harris installed. Starr has hers in the garden at her Benedict Canyon Drive mansion in Beverly Hills.
The family split attendance at both, with Starr’s parents present too. Along with My Baby Girl and me, Blair and Luc Montaigne—Lola’s mentor and the Parisian multibillionaire head of his family’s multigenerational Banque Montaigne empire—gather on the terrace. The others sit in the garden with Starr and Malcolm.
Lucien provided the mamas’ favorite dishes from his restaurants in both cities for their lunches. One of his pastry chefs created lifelike and tasty cakes in the shape of a cradle. Of course, they oohed and aahed over them. He’s such the charmer.
During a break in the games Blair led, Baz takes the opportunity to question me. More than likely since I avoided him over the last few weeks, not wanting to out-and-out lie to my best friend. Hell, it was bad enough being evasive with my mother, who seemed to pick up on My Baby Girl’s absence.
I shake my head and sigh.
“Do you tell me everything that happens between you and Lola?” I ask, then continue when he shakes his head. “Well, Haley is my wife, and I don’t go around discussing our relationship with anyone, either. Not even to my best friend.”
Baz stares at me for a moment, then nods in understanding.
“I can respect your decision,” he says. Then his eyes slide to Lola, where she sits with My Baby Girl. “I have to tell you, Haley was a disaster these last few weeks. She thought she could hide it from me, especially since she traveled a lot. But I know my baby sister. She was stressed and unhappy. I got the truth out of her and told her she was wrong this time.”
I follow his gaze.
She glances up as though sensing me. A broad smile spreads across her face, making her dimples appear. So gorgeous my heart aches. When she winks at me and sticks her tongue out at Baz, we chuckle.
“Yeah, she’s much better… Obviously,” he adds drolly. Then turns to me and asks, “And you?”
My thoughts go back to the morning after my wife returned home.
“Oh, Lachlan, I’m so glad you forgive me!” She exclaims in between bites of the omelet I made for our breakfast. “And to feed me in bed! How you spoil me, your Naughty Girl, Sir.”
Her jubilant laughter tinkles around our bedroom.
I scoop another forkful into her mouth and respond, “You will thank me properly as soon as you have a full meal in you. You will need your energy, Naughty Girl.”
The light in her dove gray eyes dims, and she slows her chewing. Her gaze drops to my lap where my erection tents the sheet. After she swallows, she clears her throat.
“Lachlan, I um…” she hesitates when I cock my head with a raised eyebrow. “Promise you won’t get mad. Okay?”
I growl low in my throat. My wife had better not have done anything sexual that would make me need to promise such a thing. Meanwhile, I’ve been self-medicating.
She rushes on with her hands up, palms pressed together.
“Nothing bad. Well, not that bad I don’t think,” she hedges, then continues. “I want us to wait until our vow renewal wedding night to make love again.”
My brain short circuits. Unintelligible words sputter from my gaping mouth.
“I mean, it’s tradition and such an important night. I know we’re already married and had our first wedding night. But this is after our fairytale wedding. Please, Lachlan?” My wife asks with her hands clasped together tightly.
I shake my head to clear it and stare at her beautiful, heart-shaped face and wide, beseeching eyes.
She continues to murmur please until I nod—anything to keep my wife happy—and she launches herself across the bed at me. We fall back against the headboard as she straddles my thighs. She peppers my face with kisses, and my cock leaps at the close contact. With a gasp, she scrambles backwards as though electrified.
Six more weeks of cold showers and hand jobs. Damn.
I glance over at Baz and laugh out loud. If only he knew.
He sits back, surprised, while the girls jump at the unexpected outburst.
“All good there, Jackson?” Luc asks with a twinkle in his dark denim blue eyes. “Perhaps I need to join the two of you for a drink instead of re-folding these onesies!”
Everyone’s laughter gets interrupted by a commotion from Starr’s baby shower. She’s gone into labor, and they rush her to hospital. Their excitement and the party tire Lola. So we bid her and Baz good night and leave.
Once My Baby Girl and I enter our duplex penthouse a few floors below on the fiftieth and forty-ninth floors, she sighs wistfully.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
She shrugs and continues to walk down the hallway to our bedroom suite. As we walk past a guest suite closest to our rooms, she pauses, glances over her shoulder at me, and opens the door.
I follow her inside.
She and Leonie designed each guest suite differently. This one has a sitting room with a yellow floral decor leading to a bedroom in shades of cream with yellow accents and the en suite bathroom in travertine. It’s a tranquil atmosphere.
My Baby Girl stops in front of the double doors of the bedroom and stares at me.
I raise an eyebrow questioningly.
“This would make a lovely nursery. Leonie says it won’t take much to convert it,” my wife says and pauses. She bites the corner of her lower lip before she continues. “What do you think, Lachlan?”
Her top teeth worry her lip again, and I want to suck it into my mouth.
Instead, I frown.
“Um… I don’t know, Haley. Don’t you think it’s a bit soon to think about kids? I mean, we’re just getting back together,” I respond.
Her head snaps back as she blinks rapidly.
But before she can answer, I rush over and swoop her into my arms, nuzzling my nose against her neck.
“I’m only teasing! Of course, this would make a fantastic nursery, Mrs. Jackson. In fact, let’s fill each guest suite with a baby. The more the merrier!” I exclaim. Kids? With My Baby Girl? Hell yeah!
She wraps her arms around my shoulders and buries her face in my hair.
I turn the knob on the double doors and kick them open as I carry her to the king-size bed. Lying down on my back, I pull her half across my body. Her head rests over my heart with her hand on my chest and one leg between mine. My hands stroke her arm and back.
“That many, huh?” She asks, giggling.
I nod vigorously, overjoyed by the thought of our babies running around.
“Absolutely! We’ll make our own clan, enough for a polo or rugby team. How’s that?” I respond.
She laughs some more as her fingers play at my cashmere sweater.
“Well, my last birth control injection was a couple of months ago. My doctor tells me it can take a few months to get out of my system,” My Baby Girl says. Then she rises onto an elbow and stares down at me. “Wouldn’t it be amazing if we get pregnant on our vow renewal wedding night?”
Her dove gray eyes glimmer in the light from the setting sun outside of the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows.
I reach up and slip a lock of her ebony waves behind her ear, then cup the back of her head to bring her face closer to mine. My mouth covers her soft, full lips. She moans into my passionate kiss. I feast on her until she’s breathless.
“Oh my, My Lord. A girl couldn’t ask for a better response than that one,” she says.
My eyes flick between her kiss-swollen lips and obsidian eyes, pupils blown with lust. Slowly, I run the tip of my tongue across my lower lip to collect the taste of her sweetness.
Her gaze tracks my movement. Unconsciously, she mimics me. Her little pink tongue pokes out to swipe over her luscious lip.
“If you keep looking at me so fuckable, Little Temptress, I won’t be able to wait until our vow renewal night to fill your womb with my seed.”
A soft gust of warm breath slips between her parted moist lips.
My cock twitches with the need to be in her mouth.
With a herculean effort, I roll off of the bed to tower over her.
“Look what you do to me, Little Temptress,” I say as I point to the increasing bulge in my jeans. My cock punches against the restrictive denim painfully. “Six more weeks of this. Up! I need to take a cold shower. Again.”
For a moment, she remains on her elbow, staring up at me with sultry eyes. The flush of arousal colors her cheeks a pretty pink. Beneath the silk wrap dress, the outline of her peaked nipples visible clearly. While the soft fabric rode up to expose her long, toned legs.
It would be so easy to give in to the carnal temptation. But I promised my wife we would wait. And so we shall.
I extend my hand to her. She blinks at it, then slips her hand into mine with a resigned sigh.
“Need I remind you, Mrs. Jackson, this was your bright idea. Tradition you claim,” I say as I lift her from the bed to her feet.
She wobbles and clutches my biceps to steady herself. Then shakes her head.
“Of course not, Mr. Jackson. However, you prove temptation personified, My Lord!” She rejoins.
I throw my head back and laugh heartily.
“Touché, Mrs. Jackson. Touché!” I say between chuckles.
We leave the guest suite soon to be the first nursery and head for our rooms. I take my much-needed shower while she changes.
When I exit my dressing room in a t-shirt and slouchy sweatpants, I notice she’s chosen a tank top and cashmere robe with matching lounge pants. I laugh to myself at her attempt to hide her bodacious curves. Nothing can detract from her sensual allure. Forever My Little Temptress.
We settle on the sofa in the sitting room. As she scrolls through her mobile, I check my calendar for the upcoming week. My administrative assistant scheduled meetings for me to attend while I’m in New York City.
“Oh, Mom Lucie asks if you need any help with our honeymoon.”
I glance up to find My Baby Girl staring at me. She’s trying to hide her excitement. For weeks, she’s tried to get out of me our plans. But I told her it’s a surprise. Now, I see she’s gotten my mother involved.
I cock my head and narrow my eyes.
My Baby Girl squirms, knowing she’s cold busted.
“No, thank you,” I respond. “But nice try, Naughty Girl.”
Her eyes twinkle with mischief as she giggles and shakes her head. She returns to her mobile, and her fingers fly across the screen. When she finishes, she fills me in on the latest developments with the wedding planning. Her excitement proves contagious.
We spend the next two hours looking at sketches, seating charts, the guest list, activities, and more. Sergeant Shelley and Lieutenant Lucie—with the help of the planners—do the heavy lifting. It’s perfect since I’m not that keen on selecting colors, going round to shops. No thanks. I set my boys with their tuxedos while my father, brothers, and I have new kilts, along with custom tuxedo jackets and accessories already taken care of. I have My Baby Girl’s Jackson clan sash, too.
After the ceremony, the charitable polo match ranks high on my list. We plan to split the proceeds between Jackson Foundation and STEELE Foundation.
My siblings and I play as a team since we could pick up a mallet. Our father—a top player for years—insisted my brothers and I learn the sport of kings. It was our mother who demanded Lydie learn too, or none of us would. And in typical Lydie fashion, she strove to prove to our father she can do as well—if not better than—as her brothers. It was the best decision since we are always the team to beat.
After a while, My Baby Girl and I decide to order Thai food and watch a film on Netflix in the media room downstairs. I love how she enjoys action films like me. Her having four older brothers has its benefits. Sometimes.
As the credits roll, she sits up from resting her head in my lap and stares at me.
“What?” I ask.
She takes a deep breath.
“Are you nervous about getting married to me again?”
Now my head snaps back, then I scowl. Where the hell did that come from?
I must have spoken the question aloud because she blushes and swipes at the bridge of her nose.
“We’ve been through so much… I—I just want to be sure you’re still okay with everything. That’s all,” she mumbles, with her head hanging.
I place my index finger beneath her chin and raise it to bring her eyes on a level with mine. They search her face for any sign of her being nervous. That would finish me off. Fortunately, I only see her concern about my feelings.
With a shake of my head, I respond, “No other woman exists for me but you, Haley Jackson. Never have and never will in this lifetime or in the next and any thereafter.”
I lean forward and brush my lips over hers as I press our foreheads together. We inhale each other’s breath before I continue.
“This is a ceremony for you, my love—your fairytale wedding at Jackson Castle. For me, our marriage happened in Sorrento eight months ago. So, no nerves whatsoever. Do you understand?” I ask.
Her eyes fill with tears as she nods.
“Words, Mrs. Jackson. I will have your words.”
A breathtaking smile spreads over her face as her cheeks pinken.
“Yes, Mr. Jackson, I understand completely. And I love you beyond measure,” she responds.
I pull her onto my lap and bury my face in her hair.
“I cannot wait to marry you again, my love,” I murmur.
Lachlan and Haley's Trilogy:
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