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Blurb:
A forbidden, billionaire, interracial romance by Erica A Davis.
Diane Gilbert is the daughter of a Baptist pastor and has lived a very sheltered life.
Still a virgin at 26 years old, she is now forced into an arranged marriage with a man she doesn’t know and doesn’t like.
Her life seems to be set in stone…
Yet that all changes the instant she meets real estate mogul Gregory Benjamin!
Gregory first sets eyes on Diane at a funeral held in her church, and despite her shyness he is captivated by her beauty and desires to know everything about her!
And soon Diane finds herself swept away in a passionate and forbidden romance!
However, Diane knows that what they’re doing will never be accepted by her father…
Especially now that she’s pregnant with Gregory’s baby, it’s becoming more difficult to keep their relationship a secret!
Will their love survive?
Or was it doomed from the start?
Chapter 1
Diane was aware of the alarm tingling in her ears, but she didn’t want to deal with it. Even with the heating on, it was really cold, and her bed felt lovely and warm. It was too good to get out of, surely…
But she had to get moving. Her father was a heavy sleeper, but if the alarm went on for too long, it would end up waking him up, and then Diane would get berated for not getting up when she was supposed to. Diane didn’t really want to get into trouble.
She was too old to be scolded like a child.
Turning her alarm off, Diane almost rolled over and went back to sleep. Then she remembered that her father had a funeral to get ready for, and they couldn’t be late. The dead didn’t wait for good weather, or for everyone to be wide awake and ready.
Fighting back a groan, Diane pushed the covers off and sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She tried not to shiver too much as she put her feet on the carpet. How was it possible that the carpet could be so cold?
Half-tiptoeing, half-rushing, Diane hurried into the bathroom and locked the door. It was tempting to stand under the hot water for longer than she should, but Diane kept expecting her father to bang on the door and demand for her to get out and she was wasting water.
For heaven’s sake, she was a grown woman, and she was scared of getting on the bad side of James Gilbert. He wasn’t a bad man, just strict. Diane was used to it, but it still made her flinch if she was toeing the line of the rules; Gilbert liked everything to be just so.
At this time of the morning, Diane didn’t really have the same sentiment.
After showering and wrapping herself in a towel, Diane ducked back into her bedroom, drying her hair and deftly plaiting it down her back. Her clothes were already laid out, ready to be worn, so that didn’t take long.
But Diane did wish that she had put them on the radiator the night before. Standing in front of the mirror, Diane took a look at herself. A black skirt past her knees, stretchy and flowing, and a black rollneck sweater. Simple, nothing dramatic, and it worked.
At least, once the choir had done their part, Diane could melt into the background. Just as she wanted; working behind the scenes was how she liked it. It was better than being up in front of everyone, aware of all eyes on her.
Her father didn’t seem to realize that not everyone wanted to be watched with such scrutiny.
Stop thinking like that. You’re just following what he says and what God wants. Nothing more, so you shouldn’t have anything to argue about.
Checking herself once more in the mirror, Diane left her room and headed downstairs, glad that she had put on her slippers before she left the sanctity of her bedroom; she could feel the cold tiles of the kitchen even through the rubber.
Putting the kettle on, Diane went around the rooms, opening curtains and heading out to check the mailbox. Just a few flyers and a bill, so nothing much.
Diane headed back into the house, looking through the various flyers, which she left on the kitchen table where her father normally sat. Then she got on with making breakfast. It was something she did every morning, and Diane was so used to it that it was pretty much muscle memory.
If she had put a blindfold on, she would more than likely get it done exactly in the same way. Her father probably wouldn’t notice the difference.
She was just dishing up breakfast when James Gilbert walked into the room, shrugging on his jacket.
“Good morning, Diane. Did you sleep well?”
“Good morning, Father,” Diane accepted the kiss on her cheek, not stopping what she was doing. “I slept well enough. You?”
“Really well. Which is a good thing as well, given what we have to do today.” Gilbert went to his chair and sat down. “Poor Mrs. Maisley, she was a well-loved member of the congregation.”
Diane bit her tongue at that. While she didn’t want to speak ill of the dead, Natasha Maisley was one of those women you couldn’t help but dislike. She was a mean lady, although she fawned all over Gilbert.
Being the pastor of their local church, James Gilbert had pretty much everyone coming to him, and Natasha Maisley was one of them. Diane could spot what she was doing a mile away; she was trying to become the new Mrs. Gilbert, a pastor’s wife.
That wasn’t going to happen, though. Diane’s mother had died twenty years ago, and Gilbert hadn’t even bothered to look at anyone since. Diane couldn’t remember him having a girlfriend, or even going out on a date.
Once he was a widower, there were two big loves in his life: God, and Diane. And Gilbert took both of these loves very seriously. He had no time for anyone else in that sense, and Natasha Maisley should have figured that out by now.
It was a shame that her mother had passed away, especially in such a freak accident, but Diane couldn’t bring herself to be charitable about the woman after the harsh, unchristian comments aimed in her direction from the older woman. Her father would say that this wasn’t very kind of her, and yet Diane didn’t really care.
Even so, she kept those opinions to herself.
“Here’s your breakfast, Father,” Diane put the plate in front of Gilbert, “would you like your coffee now or later?”
“Now, please, sweetheart,” Gilbert watched her as Diane brought the coffee pot over and poured out a cup, “aren’t you having breakfast?”
“I already ate something,” Diane lied.
Gilbert sighed.
“You know, you’re not going to do yourself any good if you don’t have breakfast, Diane. I don’t want you keeling over on me.”
“I’ll have breakfast in a little while, Father,” Diane said as she began to tidy up. “It takes a while for my body to realize that I’m awake and to become hungry.”
That was true enough. It could take a couple of hours before Diane realized that she needed something to eat. She often grabbed herself a coffee on the way to the church and some food, so she wasn’t starving herself; her body just didn’t function when it was supposed to.
Gilbert looked like he was going to argue with her about it. Instead, he gave her a disapproving look before he picked up his knife and fork.