The Billionaire's Deal: The Complete Story: An Alpha Billionaire Romance by Crystal Kaswell Page B

medication, but at this point, I don't think it matters."
    My chest tightens. I don't like the sound of that. "Why not?"
    "She has liver disease. Same thing that killed my father. Asshole drank himself to death. Mom isn't quite as much of a lush, but it was enough." He shakes his head. "I should have convinced her to quit drinking. This wouldn't have happened."
    "You're her kid. You can't convince her to do anything."
    His eyes go dark. "I could have. She knew better. We all knew better."
    "Maybe she... maybe there are treatments." It hits me, and somehow I feel even more naked. There are no treatments. This whole charade is for his mother's benefit. It must be because—
    "She's dying, Kat." He presses his palm against the porcelain. "We thought she had a year, but things took a turn for the worse. Best case scenario, she has three months."
    A black hole rips open inside me. Meryl seemed like such a sweet woman. It's not fair. It wasn't fair when my parents were in that accident. It's bullshit how unfair life is sometimes. I offer Blake my hand. "I'm sorry."
    He nods. "She's always worried about me. After my father, it makes sense, but I don't want her to die worrying."
    "What about your father?"
    He brushes it off like he didn't hear it. "We need to sell this. We need to convince her we're madly in love."
    "Why not tell her the truth?"
    He looks me right in the eyes. "She thinks her marriage cursed us. She's still guilty she stayed with him."
    "But why would she be guilty?"
    This, too, he brushes off. I dip my hair, rinsing out all the shampoo and most of the products. When I break the surface, Blake is waiting with a bottle of conditioner.
    He runs it through my hair. "If you have any objections, I'd like to get them out of the way."
    "You're pretty much at my mercy," I say. "I mean, you've already proposed to me. You can't find a new fake girlfriend now."
    His fingertips graze my forehead. "I want you. Not anyone else."
    "You're stuck with me."
    "No, I want you."
    I pull back and duck my head into the water to rinse the conditioner. This is the first real moment of quiet I've had all night. Thoughts swirl around my brain. Objections. Encouragement. I barely know Meryl, but I know enough to want her happy.
    Even if it's a lie. Surely, a lie that makes you happy must be better than a truth that hurts you.
    Tension builds between my shoulders. It doesn't feel right. She's a kind woman. I'd hate to lie to her, even if it means she'll die happy.
    "I don't even know what I would be objecting to," I say. "Are we going to stay engaged until she... until she passes, or are you rushing to get married while she's still alive."
    "I want her at the wedding."
    "But, you said three months. You can't expect to plan a wedding that fast."
    He shakes his head. "I could have a wedding planned tomorrow if I wanted." His voice gets low. "Money can buy just about anything you want."
    I shift back. "Well, I'm not a thing and you can't buy me. Got it?"
    Something in him changes. He nods. All steely and determined. "Think about this practically. I'll ask you to sign a prenup. We'll go through a typical negotiation process. I'll pay for your lawyer."
    "So what? You're offering me more money. You can't buy me, Blake. Not with the mortgage or with my sister's college or with half your damn company."
    "You don't want money?" It's more a challenge than a question.
    "Only enough to live," I say.
    "So take the money and live for years." He leans closer. "You'll have enough to put your sister through her PhD, to put yourself through school, to buy a beach house and summer in the Hamptons."
    "My sister will hate me for lying to her." I bite my lip. The money is a comforting thought.
    "What would you do if you never had to work again?" He stares at me with big, earnest eyes. "Do you really want to spend your life serving other people?"
    It's the first time I've seen him this earnest.
    "Does your mother mean that much to you?" I ask.
    He nods. "I'm going to