Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
She was quiet for an instant and then raised her hand to my cheek, stroking it softly.
“I know you will, Liam,” she said, and gave me a gentle kiss of promise. My heart turned over, and I determined to do my best by this wildflower and her baby boy.
14
Liam
I choked as I saw her walking down the aisle. She was so beautiful, small and slim, yet elegant and dignified, projecting more class than a queen. She wore a knee-length dress of white lace as we stood before the podium, her smile warm and inviting as we turned to face the Justice of Peace.
Finally! I had my wildflower where I wanted her. My beautiful girl was about to become my bride. I wasn’t taking any chances this time. After her brush with death two weeks ago, I’d practically become her warden. I wouldn’t let her out of my sight, and trailed her from room to room through our apartment.
Seeing her lying in the hospital bed had caused my world to come crashing down. I’d realized with sudden clarity that my life wasn’t worth living without her, that she was my everything. I’d confided my love to her comatose form, and as luck would have it, my wildflower had woken and forgiven me.
But there was still the unsettling problem of our family relationship. You see, Wildflower and I are step-siblings. Her biological father, Robert Woodson, is my stepfather, making us some fucked-up family. She’d been reluctant to marry me at first, arguing that our son Georgie would always be tainted by the smear of incest, but I’d steamrolled her. I’d insisted, arguing that Georgie would benefit from a stable home with two parents who loved him. Beneath my onslaught of words and mindblowing sex, I’d overcome Wildflower’s defenses and here we were, at the altar at last.
The rush to City Hall was my doing. As soon as she’d said yes this morning, I’d booked an appointment with the magistrate, intent on legitimizing our union asap. I wasn’t taking any chances. She was going to be mine, physically, emotionally, and legally. I’d whipped out the ivory dress from her closet and almost dressed her in it myself.
She’d laughed when she’d seen how eager I was.
“Liam,” she gasped breathlessly. “There’s no rush, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Baby, I can’t wait,” I’d growled. “I’ve spent two years apart from you, and I almost just lost you again because of that stupid event. I’m so sorry,” I murmured, burying my face in her hair. “I want you to be Mrs. Miller asap.”
She’d stroked my hair comfortingly, murmuring, “Okay, we’ll go this afternoon then. Don’t we have to find our birth certificates or something?”
“I’ve got all that covered,” I said. “I had my staff look up your records and everything’s taken care of.”
She pulled back. “My birth certificate?” she said curiously. “Really? You were able to locate it?”
“Sure, why not?” I said. “You were born in Queens, right?”
She bowed her head. “Yes, but I’ve never even seen my birth certificate. My mom was terrible with records, so I’ve always just trusted that my name is Alison Johnson. It could be Wildflower Jones for all I know,” she teased.
“But how did you enroll in school and get all that legal stuff done?” I asked, nonplussed.
She shrugged. “I don’t know exactly. I guess my mom was able to finagle it somehow. A student ID turned into a driver’s license, and I never needed more than that. I’ve never travelled internationally, you see,” she said shyly. “So I’ve never needed a passport.”
I growled. That was about to change. I was a rich man and was going to shower all of my resources on Wildflower and my son, including international travel on my private jet, staying in the best hotels, and enjoying luxuries they’d never had. Okay, so she was practically an undocumented immigrant, but she was my undocumented immigrant and I was about to make her mine … forever.
15
Alison
He was so handsome, brooding and dark, standing at the altar. He was staring at me so hard that my heart skipped a beat and my cheeks flushed. I knew I’d always feel this way about him. I always have and always will.
With his raven hair and black suit, I knew I’d lucked out – how many women got to marry their Prince Charming who was loving, handsome and rich to boot? But his money made no difference to me. I would have married him even if he’d been a pauper. The blue eyes glued to my form as I moved up the aisle made me grow hot again. How had I landed a husband so persuasive, magnetic, and charismatic?
The truth was, I wasn’t sure. Liam had swept me off my feet when I was nineteen, and since then life hadn’t been the same. Our first weeks together had been like a fairytale, but when I’d discovered that we were related, I’d fled without a word, not wanting to taint him with the rumor of incest. He was a powerful man, and a favorite of gossip columns. They’d have a field day if they knew Liam was dating his stepsister.