Page 6 of My Dirty Father In Law
I stare at Jordan Lewis, unsure what’s going on. Why is he speaking about his lineage, and in such a lyrical way too? It’s a little bizarre, and I’m a tiny bit freaked out. But then the billionaire fixes me with a stare, his eyes so blue and piercing that I feel pinned to the hospital bed.
“Harry was my only child,” he rasps. “He was my only son, and the Lewis line was going to continue through him. Now that he’s gone, you must do the work.”
I stare at the huge alpha male.
“What do you mean?” I ask in a slow voice. “Of course, I’m happy to help.”
Jordan gives another jerk of his square jaw, his features harsh.
“You must conceive a Lewis child so that the family doesn’t die out. It’s your duty, Juliette. You were going to become Juliette Lewis, and there’s no need to change course now. There may be many Lewis descendants in this part of the world, but our blood line is the most pure, and it must go on.”
I stare at Jordan, my ears beginning to ring.
“Um, I think I’m missing something here because Harry’s gone,” I say in a slow voice. “I know this has been a shock for you, not to mention an immense tragedy, but there’s no way that I could conceive a child without my fiancé. Plus, as far as I know, Harry didn’t bank his sperm, so I don’t think it’s really possible...”
Jordan stares at me, a harsh flush on those high cheekbones.
“You’ll conceive my child instead,” he bites out. “It’s the same bloodline. Our family will not die out. The Lewises will continue, and our lineage will survive and prosper. It’s my duty, and besides, you wear our ring already. It’s your duty as well, Juliette.”
My jaw drops as I stare at the handsome man. I’m going to conceive Jordan’s child? I guess it makes a weird kind of sense because if they’re really wrapped up in bloodlines and lineage, then conceiving a child with the father of your fiancé could work. But still, this is bizarre and just plain insane! Who cares about lineage and bloodlines anyways? A few hours ago, I was fake-engaged to a cute, redheaded boy. But now, he’s gone and his dad wants to impregnate me? The whole thing is too crazy, and I decide to take a gentle tack.
“Mr. Lewis, I understand your grief,” I say in a slow voice. “I think the loss is making you a bit delirious because the death of your son was so sudden and unexpected. It’s a huge shock to the system, and I think what I should do is to call the hospital social worker, and she’ll be able put you in touch with grief counseling, as well as other resources?—”
But Jordan cuts me off.
“I’m not delirious,” he rasps, staring straight at me. “Nor do I need counseling or social services. What I need is to impregnate you.”
I stare at him.
“Well, I hear what you’re saying, but actually, I can’t stay in the United States. I’m a French national, and my student visa is expiring in sixty days. I was going to get a green card via my marriage to Harry, but now that Harry’s gone, it’s an impossibility. So I guess I’m on the next flight to Paris!”
Jordan Lewis stares at me, his handsome features immobile with rage, grief, and shock.
“You need a green card,” he bites out.
“I do,” I say quickly. “And unfortunately, the clock’s ticking. Like I said, I only have sixty days, so Harry and I were going to rush to City Hall and tie the knot, before filing the paperwork with Immigration. But obviously, that’s impossible now. I’m sorry, Mr. Lewis,” I apologize with heartfelt sincerity. “I know your family and lineage are important to you, but IVF is a drawn-out procedure, and I’ve heard it can take months, if not years, to conceive. It’s just not going to work because of timing issues, but what choice is there? ICE is super-strict these days, and unfortunately, I’ve been caught in its net.”
Jordan listens while looking at me, those blue eyes gleaming.
“I can get you a visa,” he growls. “After a student visa expires, you can apply for Optional Practical Training, isn’t that right? Then you get an additional two years in the United States.”
My heart starts pounding in my ears.
“Yes, that’s right. Students can apply for OPT to extend their F-1 by two years, so long as the job is in their field of study. But what job did you have in mind?” I say in a slow voice. “I mean, can you find me a job just like that?”
At that, Jordan throws his dark hair back and laughs, although the sound is harsh and grating on my ears.
“I think you forget, sweetheart, that I’m the CEO of a multi-national firm that employs thousands of people. I’m sure we can find you a place at Skyview Partners. What did you say your major was again?”
“Public relations,” I reply in a hesitant voice, my pulse beginning to thrum. “Is there a seat at Skyview Partners in the PR department?”
Jordan pauses.
“Sweetheart, what do you know about wealth management?” he asks.
“Almost nothing,” I admit immediately. “Is Skyview Partners like a bank? Is that what wealth management is?”
He shrugs those broad shoulders, his blue eyes gleaming. The wheels are turning in Jordan Lewis’s head, and I know he’s hatching a plan given this new information.
