Accidentally Married to the Billionaire (The Billionaire's Touch, #1) Page 4
“I can’t say I’ve gotten over it. She took my dog and now she’s going to get my dad’s company away from me if I don’t find a way to block it!”
“I just had the best idea!”
He took a giant swig from the bottle. “What’s that, Marj?”
She grabbed the bottle and took a drink herself. “Why don’t we just get married?”
His jaw dropped. “What? Listen, you’re a beautiful woman, and I’m madly attracted to you, but I’m not looking for a serious relationship right now.”
“And neither am I. But it’s the obvious answer. Dad wanted you to tie the knot to keep your job. So do it. The legal angle didn’t work, so scam the will and follow it to the letter if not in the spirit of the law,” she explained.
He set the bottle down. “So just have a fake marriage?”
“Sure. Don’t tell me it never crossed your mind.”
“It did. But I was hoping to win before having to resort to something so drastic. I don’t want to drag somebody through the mud. It would be hell. How can I put anyone through that?”
“You know it’s the only option left. And where else are you going to find anyone? It’s not like you can put an ad in the newspaper or on a giant billboard. This has to be done very discreetly and not draw attention.”
He downed another gulp and made a face. “I know. But I got people.”
“Who can magically help you whip up a wife?”
“I sound pathetic.”
“Listen, I’m the perfect candidate for the job.”
He winked. “So why should I hire you on?”
“Because I’m going to be the best damn fake wife you’ve ever had. I’m not going to go blab to the media about it. Let everyone think I scored a hot executive on my business trip and hit the jackpot.”
His pretty eyes glittered in the dim light. “You know, this could work. You’re brilliant! Absolutely brilliant and clever. I’m going to give you a raise.”
She laughed. “Do we have to pretend to be in love?”
“It would be best if we appeared to be. The terms are clear that if I am married less than one calendar year, the inheritance is still forfeited, so you’d have to sign on for a full fifty-two weeks. I’d be willing to compensate you. I mean, whatever you’re paid salary-wise at Simpatico, I’d double it.”
Gripping the neck of the bottle, she took another swig, then another. “Like a hooker with health benefits?”
“Not a hooker. A companion. You’d make public appearances and fulfill the terms of my father’s will so I could go ahead and run the business.” He blew out a long breath. “Man, this is crazy.”
She grabbed his arm. “Listen, people get married for stupider reasons. Besides, we can’t let that dog stealing bitch win!”
“As much as I appreciate the gesture, I find it a little alarming. What reason could you possibly have for wanting to help me?”
“Truth?” she asked and took another long drink.
“Obviously.”
“I’m lonely. I just started at Simpatico last month because I quit my last job. The guy I was with, my boyfriend...he knocked up his secretary and I couldn’t face him every day. So my new job pays less, and it’s a little unstable since your company just took it over—I mean we had a ‘merger’ that I’m here to fictionalize. Plus my roommate moved out, so I’m trying to pay all of the rent and utilities on a smaller budget. And this dress cost a fucking fortune!” she finished.
“From where I’m sitting it was worth it,” he said with an appreciative gaze.
“Thanks. But it was a stupid impulse. I don’t usually indulge like that. I don’t buy expensive things or drink too much, which I clearly have tonight since I’m confiding in a complete stranger. The point is, it sounds like fun to marry you, to thwart the Wicked Queen and be rich for a while. I don’t want a diamond tiara or anything, just to have a break from worrying about money all the time.”
“Your ex sounds like an asshole. I’m not sure you’re in the best place to have a marriage of convenience since your heart just got broken, though. And I’m not ready for a real relationship. Besides, they never work.”
She stared deeply into his eyes. “No real relationship needed. I’m going to have a great year, but I’m not going to fall in love with you.”
“Are those supposed to be wise words from my loving, future wife?”
“Very wise words.”
He chuckled. “I can’t believe you’re even considering this. Are your credit cards maxed out?”
“Hell yeah.”
“See? You so need me.”
“Yes, I so do. I’m a hot mess and I need somebody to straighten me out.”
He winked. “I can definitely straighten you out.”
She laughed as she blushed. “I love sexual innuendos. But seriously, back to the legal stuff. How will it work?”
“You’ll have to sign legal documents to the effect that you will never speak of the terms of our marriage or divorce. You won’t have a shot at the Cates fortune itself, just a settlement when we break up.”
“Right. Well, I didn’t think a year of marriage would entitle me to billions, Brandon. And I’m trying to help you, not steal your fortune away like your stepmother.”
He pulled her close and started to sensually kiss down her neck. “I know that, darling. And I can’t thank you enough. I can’t wait to show you how thankful I am.”
“My heart’s pounding.”
His trailed his tongue against her bare skin. “So is mine.”
“Then let’s do this. Because I see no other alternative. You’ve tried every legal avenue to attack the terms of the will. The only thing left is for you to comply with them.”
“You’re going to great lengths to keep your job,” he said.
“I’m hoping to see great lengths very soon,” she whispered in his ear. He softly chuckled and she continued. “We have to fight injustice and oppression. And I think together, we can take her down.” More wet kisses trailed down her neck as goosebumps erupted. “I think you deserve a break, Brandon. You’re getting screwed.”
His hands ran down her curves. “Oh, I hope so.”
She laughed as she playfully nudged him. “You know what I mean.”
“I know. So marry me, Marjorie Reynolds.”
“Okay. We can start planning first thing tomorrow.”
His eyes twinkled. “Why wait? We need to defeat evil as soon as possible. Marry me right now.”
“Your fake proposal needs work,” she purred in his ear. “Lots of damn work.”
His gaze narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“That wasn’t very romantic. You’re going to have to step up your game if you want to win my heart, er, I mean my companionship. You’re supposed to get down on your knees and declare your fake love, and then put a ring on my finger. Then declare we defeat evil. Give me the proposal I’ve always dreamed of. Even if it’s fake. Let me live the dream, even for one little minute. Guess you haven’t watched any chick flicks lately.”
“All right. Can you give me a few minutes? I’m going to give you the best damn proposal you’ve ever seen. What are your favorite kind of flowers?”
She grabbed his tie and seductively pulled him close. “It would’ve been nice, but on second thought, I don’t need it. All I know is that I’m dying to kiss you. And I don’t want to wait another second.”
“Marriage first, kisses second.”
“I have my ID. This is Vegas. So let’s do this.”
“Do you want to dance first? Some kind of—courtship?”
“You can buy me a cupcake after we get married. How’s that for embracing tradition?”
“What’s your favorite flavor?”
“Chocolate. If there was a chocolate mocha, like a coffee flavor, that would be it. I love coffee, as black as my soul,” she purred.
He took out his phone, tapped at the screen a few times and then held out his hand for hers.
“We can p
ick out an engagement ring, something suitably lavish. It’ll be a photo op.”
“We’ll both need wedding bands too.”
“We’ll get it all taken care of. I found an all-night jeweler we can stop at.”
“Classy. Did the rings fall off a truck? Is it inside a convenience store?”
“No, it’s in a city where people get married in the middle of the night all the time. And according to the website, Elvis Presley bought rings there.”
“Well, why didn’t you say so? If it’s good enough for the King, it’s good enough for me. Let’s go.”
“Where do you want to get married?”
“Some chapels have a theme, some are drive-through, and some are very upscale.”
Marj blinked. “You don’t look like the theme or drive-through type of guy. So that leaves us upscale.”
“Upscale chapels are found in resorts and those require reservations.”
“We can make the wedding tomorrow,” Marj said. “But can we still have the honeymoon?”
He wrapped his arms around her. “You’re addicted to my kisses, aren’t you?”
She pulled him close as her heart beat wildly. “Absolutely.”
“And I’m addicted to yours as well. Listen, I don’t need a fancy chapel. Let’s just go to the strip.”
“Fine by me.”
Laughing, he took her hand and led her out of the hotel to a waiting car. His hands were big and powerful. His palm seemed to engulf her hand in a not unpleasant way. She was disappointed when he released her hand in the car as he directed the driver. They stopped at the courthouse and showed their ID’s, got a marriage license in less than ten minutes.
“I guess I didn’t pay too much for this dress since it’s going to be my wedding gown,” she mused.
“It’s something new and something blue. Got anything old?”
“My earrings. I got them at a flea market, antique—or at least used.”
“So let’s assume they were stolen and pawned, and we can call them something borrowed as well.”
“This gets more and more romantic.”
He stroked his thumb over her lower lip. “Tell me about it. Can two drunk people plan this any better?”
She laughed as she leaned closer. “I don’t think so.”
Cupping her face, he stared deeply into her eyes. “I’m so glad you want a honeymoon tonight. Because I want nothing more than to feel your soft lips on mine.”
“You’re so damn sexy,” she said.
“And you’re so damn beautiful. How did I luck out like this?”
“Who needs Lady Luck? When I’ve already won the jackpot.”
He pushed a strand of hair from her eyes. “Are you feeling this crazy chemistry we both have?”
“Yes, you’re literally setting my soul on fire,” she said.
“Then we both agree to have sex in this marriage?”
“Hell, yes. I’m not living with you for a year and being a nun. If you feel the need to take a mistress, do it discreetly and for goodness sake, don’t tell me.”
“If I had a mistress, if I had anyone at all that I wanted a relationship with, do you think I would have picked up a girl in a bar and proposed?”
“I picked you up,” she corrected.
“Regardless of who initiated the plan, we have rings to select. What kind do you like?”
“The diamond kind,” she deadpanned, expecting him to balk at her remark and insist on the cheapest stainless steel $19.99 ring they carried.
Chapter 6
One look around the store, and it was obvious that it didn’t cater to the twenty dollar budget crowd. She stood beneath the dim lights of the russet interior, her hand resting tentatively on one of the many glass display cases as a clerk sized her finger at a seven and began withdrawing velvet trays of glittering rings. One after another, the clerk passed her rings and she tried them on, extending her hand to judge the fit and appearance, then glancing at her companion who shook his head. The narrow, Milgrain band bright with a tiny constellation of diamonds made her feel flushed and dizzy as a new love. She looked at Brandon who nodded.
“Something bigger. She likes that one. Do you have the same style, more carats?”
She responded with a gasp. Her eyes grew round. He was not only willing to buy the most beautiful ring she’d ever seen, but he also wanted a bigger and better one for her. She shook her head.
“This one is perfect. Really. I’d be lucky to have it.”
“You might, in your everyday life. But Mrs. Brandon Cates had better have three carats and platinum around that finger or no one would believe it was true.”
“Fair enough. Marketing I can understand. I just don’t want you to think I’m greedy,” she said.
“What I think doesn’t matter nearly as much as what the lawyers think,” he said coolly.
The clerk brought a ring of similar design but encrusted with three rows of diamonds wrapping all the way around the ring. It was like an extremely valuable and somewhat heavy disco ball on her hand. The light caught the huge diamond from every angle, making it glitter and sparkle. It was eye-popping. She looked at him incredulously.
“It’s beautiful,” she said mesmerized.
“Think you can wear it?”
“And not get mugged?”
“You won’t be mugged. You’ll be moving in a very different sphere than you’re used to, Marjorie. Does it look like something you could get live with?”
“Yeah, I guess I could live with three carats of diamonds on my hand. Sure,” she said flippantly, and the clerk boxed the ring and handed it over as Brandon slid a black credit card across the counter to him.
Marj kissed him on the lips. “Thank you, Brandon. It’s just gorgeous.”
“No, thank you. I’ll forever be in your debt.”
A folder of paperwork went with the ring, inspections and authentication and a certificate that declared it to be comprised exclusively of conflict-free stones. She carried the folder awkwardly and pointed out that he needed a ring, too. He pointed out a plain platinum band and submitted to being sized before paying for it as well.
An old man in an expensive Armani suit walked in with a pretty blonde woman who smiled at them. She wore a sparkly, black dress and spiked heels. When the man left her to go talk to the shop owner, she came over and leaned on Marj.
“Are you as drunk as I am?” she asked.
“If you’re this drunk you shouldn’t be getting married.”
Brandon laughed at Marj’s comment. “Isn’t that...wait, what’s the phrase? The pot calling the kettle black.”
Marj nudged him. “Hey! It’s different with us. We’re saving an entire company from the ice queen’s tyranny. Plus, I’m trying to help you get the keys back to your kingdom.”
“Well, I’m looking for a man with a large bulge in his right pocket,” the drunk blonde said.
Brandon had enough of her and pulled Marj away. The blonde stumbled, then caught her balance and waved goodbye to us.
“No diamonds for you?” Marj teased.
“I’ll leave the sparkle to you. Let’s get hitched.”
“Wait,” she said, seizing his hand, “give me the rings.”
Brandon complied, and she laid them on the black folder and took a picture with her phone. Then she pressed her cheek to his and smiled dazzlingly for a selfie.
“Anyone who’s getting married takes pictures of every little thing. Trust me. Those photos will go a long way to proving authenticity.”
“Good thinking. Anything else?”
“Yeah, give your phone to the clerk and kiss me. We’ll need a picture.”
Marj slid the dazzling ring on her finger and held it out as if to admire it as he kissed her. Unfortunately, when he covered her lips in a slow and tender kiss, she totally forgot she was supposed to be posing. In fact, she forgot where she was, what her name might be, and anything else relevant except for some sort of primal response of the ‘me woman, you man’
variety. Passion flamed between them like a roaring forest fire. His mouth was hot and he consumed her. Her bones seemed to melt at his touch, her mouth opening at the onslaught of his tongue. He did clever, wicked things with that tongue until she made a noise, an actual audible noise of the very tackiest kind in an upscale jeweler’s shop in Nevada.
The sound of her own moan made her pull back in embarrassment. She knew she looked disheveled now, her face flushed, her lips bruised, her hair rumpled from his hands. Those hands—the telltale thick-wristed strong hands—had tangled in her long auburn hair, as if he, too, were oblivious to their surroundings. Instead of a posed photo for Instagram followers, the picture on the phone looked more like they were ready to do it up against the glass counter. Which, maybe was better for convincing PR than her planned snap would have been.
“You put on quite a show, Cates,” she said.
“Show’s over. It’s time for wedding bells.”
“I bet the bells are extra. We just need a bare-bones ceremony. I do. You do. We get the officiant to sign and bingo, you’re the unquestioned heir to Power Regions, Ltd.”
“If only it were that simple. We’ll have months of legal wrangling to establish the legitimacy of our marriage and to prove that it’s a match of affection, not convenience. Think you could pretend to like me for eight million dollars?”
“I could pretend to like you for this ring. Do I get to keep it?”
“Yes. I mean, I don’t want it. What am I going to do with a woman’s wedding band when this is all over?”
“Should we maybe not talk about this in front of your driver?”
“Soundproof partition,” he explained.
“Ah. But as a rule, we’re not telling people, right?”
“Right. Keep it between us.”
“Ooh, I was just thinking, if I, like, commit some heinous crime, you don’t have to testify against me! I could totally kill someone, tell you all about it and I’m safe!”
“If you’re committing heinous murders I wouldn’t characterize you as safe. Is that part of your plan?”
“No, I’m just thinking out loud. There are perks to this. I mean, my taxes will be less if I’m filing jointly I think.”