Loves Billionaires and Corgis: A Feel Good Romance

by Gina Robinson

  I wasn't prepared for the shove he gave me. Caught off guard, I lost my footing and went over backward, hard and fast, flailing, reaching for anything to stop my fall, clawing the air and coming up with nothing but flashing lights that slipped through my fingers.

  The back of my head hit solid metal with a crack. The stool. The damn stool spun. My head bounced.

  As the call light of the slot machine flashed like a siren, I felt a sharp, blinding pain. Everything went black…

  Chapter One

  Liars in Love

  Two Years Later

  Shelby Hudson (Fake relationshipper, expectant puppy mama, runaway bride, for real. Woman in deep doo-doo.)

  The lines between reality and fantasy were definitely blurred in my life right now. I was in a relationship with a billionaire. The sweetest, hottest (fans self), kindest, most dog-loving billionaire in the world. Says me. But…

  There's always a but, isn't there?

  But—was my relationship real or was it fake? By agreement, it was still kind of fake. That was what we were calling it, anyway.

  It started out as an attraction, and an arrangement of convenience, and blossomed into something more. We'd both agreed to pursue it further. But neither of us were ready to admit just how real it was and was fast becoming. The truth was that we were both commitment-phobes. For different reasons.

  I'm not really afraid of committing so much as I'm afraid of committing to the wrong man. Marriage is supposed to be a lifelong affair. That's the general theory, anyway. No one goes in thinking marriage will be a great lark for a few days before we call it quits, right? If that's the case, just have a fling. Hookup.

  Some marriages do, of course, last only a few days or weeks. But most are much longer-lasting commitments. Speaking purely for myself, I want to be a lifer. Find my prince and grow old with him. Hold my rose-colored glasses, right? I've seen it happen. Since this is one of the biggest decisions in life, I didn't want to mess it up.

  Especially since a screw-up would definitely play head games with my career as well as my heart. I'm in the wedding industry. A popular hand letterer with a booming bridal subscription box business.

  I make these lovely themed fantasy bridal boxes that sell out within minutes of announcing them. Since dating Dex, I have even greater appeal because I'm living the ultimate fantasy—dating a billionaire. Have you seen how many books, online courses, and matchmaking services there are that teach women how to catch a man with money? How to be an elegant woman and dress the part? Look like you have money?

  And I'd just stumbled into one by pure chance when my little Corgi, Bella, went into heat and caught his studly Aussie Charlie's eye. And nonconsensual sex happened—Bella enjoyed it, apparently. But I didn't consent! I had arranged to have her bred by one of her own kind—another purebred Corgi. At the insistence of my former fiancé, Mitch. Long story.

  Yes, I have a former fiancé. Actually, I have four former fiancés. I have broken three engagements and ditched one groom at the altar. To be more precise, while in line waiting to purchase our discount Vegas wedding package before proceeding to the altar.

  Yes, I am a real runaway bride. Though I've managed to keep that a secret for two years.

  I've been falsely accused publicly of being a runaway bride from my fourth fiancé, Mitch, because of a viral video of me running from my final wedding gown fitting two weeks before the wedding. It looked a lot more incriminating than it was.

  And I've been mistaken for being a runned-away-with-bride when Mitch tried to kidnap me from a wedding I was a guest at. But no one except me and my jilted groom know about my real little runaway fiasco.

  For over two years, I've eluded the guy I left at the discount altar, hoping never, ever to see, or hear from, him again. After two years, I was getting cocky. Or maybe you'd call it careless.

  In my defense, my former groom and I had known each other less than twelve hours. We'd both been drunk that entire time. Getting married had seemed like just another Vegas roll of the dice. Wasn't marriage that anyway? Until I came to my senses and ran like crazy.

  I wasn't even sure my abandoned groom had my real full name. I didn't remember his, not even his first name. Yeah, that drunk. The only thing he'd given, the one thing I was afraid he'd take back if he ever found me, was Bella. She'd been my wedding bouquet and I'd run off with her.

  Once I'd gotten home, I'd changed up my appearance just like someone in the witness protection program. Like I was on the lam. To be sure he didn't find me. I wasn't sure he'd come looking. But I did it to protect Bella.

  I live in the Seattle area. We met in Vegas, so I wasn't sure where he called home. Could be anywhere. So we weren't likely to simply bump into each other. That was my hope, anyway. Everything had been great until…

  Damn Mitch for trying to cart me off from the Hudson/Kangley wedding (no relation) because he mistakenly thought I was the Hudson getting married. Of course the wedding videographer had captured Mitch with me thrown over his shoulder on video. Yeah, Neanderthal. At least he wasn't dragging me off by my hair.

  And that video had, naturally, gone viral. Because of course it had.

  I'd been fighting to escape from Mitch, pleading with him, telling him he'd made a mistake. I wasn't marrying anyone. And probably never would. Let me go! Caught up in the moment, and not thinking about viral videos, which, naturally, weren't the first thing on my mind, I'd forgotten about covering my face. And the videographer, wedding photographer, and numerous guests got some great shots of me. Including my good side.

  Two years of hiding out, of hiding my face on all my social media accounts like I was playing coy, ruined. Down the drain.

  My former almost-husband had found me and was speaking to me on my business cell phone in the reception area of the veterinarian's office. The sound of his voice chilled me to my soul.

  This was the worst possible time. Dex, my billionaire fake boyfriend, and I were waiting like expectant parents for Bella's pregnancy test results. I had my hopes up for puppies.

  Not to mention it was an awkward situation to begin with—there was a question as to whether Charlie was the father of any potential puppies or not. He could be. He might be. But so could Bruno, the less-than-stud-muffin Corgi I'd bred Bella with. We wouldn't know until Bella gave birth whether we had any purebred Corgis or any Auggies, and how many of each.

  Bruno had been a wimpy lover, in my opinion. But I was torn—I owed Mitch a purebred Corgi. No amount of bargaining could talk him out of it. Not even when I offered to speak on his behalf to the prosecutor about the charges against him for attempting to kidnap me.

  Mitch wasn't in his right mind, that much was clear. I still didn't know what I was going to do about him.

  When my cell rang, I should never have taken the call. Force of habit. Never turn away a potential client. How was I to know mayhem would be on the other end?

  Then I heard his voice. "Shelby. Baby."

  My heart stopped. The blood drained from my face. I went stone cold and pale from head to toe. I couldn't speak.

  He knows my name. He know my name.

  Of course he did. Now. It had been plastered all over the news and that cursed video.

  "It's taken two years since Vegas, but I finally caught up to you, my darling runaway bride. You broke my heart, baby. And embarrassed the hell out of me." There was laughter in his voice. Evil laughter, in my opinion.

  Fine. Be satisfied with yourself. This isn't funny.

  My mouth went dry. I lowered my voice even further and hissed into the phone, "What do you want?"

  "Hell, that's easy. I want my dog back." It sounded like he was on a construction site of some kind. There were all kinds of beeps and the roar of big machinery in the background.

  Just then, the vet came into the room, beaming. "Congratulations! You're having puppies."

  I hoped he—it would have been a lot more convenient if I had a name for him—hadn't heard that. If he put two and two together�
��

  Dex's face lit up. My heart melted. And immediately froze again.

  On former-groom's end of the phone, someone yelled, "Shut it down! Shut it down!"

  He cursed into the phone, using some very colorful language. He'd obviously been cleaning his language up for me.

  Only too happy to comply, I panicked and did the only sensible thing. I hung up and blocked his number.

  I bit back a string of curses. He had to have gotten my number off my website. If he had my number, he knew my business address. I wasn't dumb enough to list my home address on my website. I had a dummy street address from a post office box company. But still. It was a Seattle address. Which gave him a clue to where in the world Shelby was.

  Dex frowned and rose from his chair with Bella in his arms. "Something wrong, Shelby?"

  "Crank call." I shoved my phone into my purse. "A Nigerian prince wants to make me his queen now that one of my long-lost relatives has left me a fortune. All I have to do is give him my bank account number so he can transfer my inheritance to me."

  Dex lifted one eyebrow. "Sounds easy enough. Those Nigerian princes are really hands-on these days. You'd think he'd have staff for notifying people of windfalls. Not argue too fine a point, but wouldn't you be his princess, not his queen? Or does Nigerian royalty operate differently?" Dex's gorgeous blue-violet eyes narrowed. He was smart and intuitive. Never easily fooled.

  I played it cool. "No idea. I'm guessing he's in line for the throne. I'd be his queen. Eventually."

  "Hard to compete with that."

  "I don't know about that," I said, feeling the impact of Dex's smile. "I don't think he's a dog person." I scratched Bella behind her ears, cooing praise to her. "You're going to be such a great mama!"

  I threw myself into Dex's arms, hugging both dog and hot guy. "Isn't it fantastic!" It was partly a diversionary tactic mixed in with my very real joy.

  "It will be if we get some Auggie doggies. If we do, it will go to Charlie's head. He's already a real stud. Fathering another batch of puppies will make him impossible." Dex rolled his eyes.

  Charlie was a lovable dog, but he already had a sizable opinion of himself. All the female dogs loved him.

  The vet watched us with an amused look.

  I turned to her. "What do we do now? Do we have prenatal visits every few weeks? Is there a prenatal class we can join? Teach Bella how to breathe?"

  I was only half joking. I had no idea what to expect with a dog's pregnancy. I was a nervous expectant puppy grandma.

  The vet smiled kindly. She was the grandmotherly type herself. She had an old country vet's demeanor. I imagined her as a modern-day James Herriot. In short, I loved her.

  "Now you wait approximately forty-two days and then you whelp puppies."

  I shot Dex a worried look. Somehow, the thought of actually delivering puppies had never crossed my mind. "Can't we get a dog doula or something?"

  The vet laughed. "Don't worry. We'll take good care of Bella. I'll make an appointment for her for a week or so before her due date, if you like. I'll take x-rays if need be to see how many and how large the puppies are. We'll make sure they won't be too big to pass through the birth canal. If they are, I'll schedule a C-section."

  C-section. I shuddered at the thought.

  "In the meantime," the vet said, "I'll give you information on the best dog food to give our Bella, as well as what to look for during her pregnancy and signs that you should call me right away." She smiled fondly and cooed to Bella, "You're going to be a wonderful mama, aren't you, girl?"

  Bella might be. But I still wasn't totally reassured. I was going to be the problem here.

  "Have you whelped puppies?" I whispered to Dex, clutching his arm tightly.

  "A couple of times," he whispered back. "Don't worry. Nature will take its course. It'll be fine."

  Yeah. Easy for him to say. I was a total novice at this.

  The vet loaded us up with information. I should have been reassured, but after that call from Ex-Almost-Groom-Guy, I was totally shaken. I felt like I was being chased by shadows. I really had to come up with an easier name for that guy. How does Pain in the Butt sound?

  Even though the June day was cloudy, as we stepped outside, I pulled an oversized pair of sunglasses from my purse and slid them on. I lamented not having brought a baseball cap with me to wear low over my face. For now, this was the best disguise I could manage.

  Dex eyed me curiously. "What's up with the sunglasses? Getting a headache?"

  I swallowed hard. "Glare off the clouds. Flat lighting. It could give me a headache. I'm taking every precaution. I don't want anything to mar this great day and Bella's news."

  "Cloud glare?" He frowned, looking suspicious and definitely skeptical.

  "I'm surprised you've never heard of it, Mr. IQ." I smiled sweetly. Dex prided himself on his high IQ. Sometimes I liked to tweak him. I'd found his weak spot—if I acted confident enough, I could sometimes get away with a bunch of nonsense. It didn't hurt if I flirted a little in the process.

  Dex was still holding Bella. She loved him like he was her boyfriend and flirted with him worse than I did. I'd never seen her take to anyone like she had to Dex. He bent over to load Bella into the car, giving me a fine view of his great butt. Was it evil of me to want to fondle it? Those two made a pair—Bella with her momo and Dex's finely sculpted butt.

  "Cloud glare," Dex repeated. "I've heard of seventy-two million ways to describe rain and clouds, but never glare. Every photographer I know loves flat overhead lighting."

  "You haven't been listening to the right weather forecasters, apparently." I slid into the car, grateful for the cover. I had no idea where the ex could be hiding out. Even though I didn't hear any loud machinery noise nearby, I wasn't totally sure he wasn't lurking behind the nearest clump of bushes ready to pounce.

  Dex got in the driver's seat and pressed the ignition. "Now that you know Bella is pregnant, what are you going to do about Mitch?"

  Chapter Two

  Shelby (Cool disguiser. Scared prey. Fearful of having her dog dognapped.)

  How had talking about Mitch become the safe topic so suddenly?

  "If you level with him about the very real probability that Bella won't have any Corgi puppies, you might get him to back off and accept your offer. You have all the leverage." As confident as he usually was, Dex didn't look like even he fully believed what he was saying.

  Dex ran a unicorn startup. He was an expert negotiator and knew more about contracts than anyone I knew.

  On an intellectual, rational level, Dex was right. We should have had more than enough leverage against Mitch. But leverage means nothing against someone who's temporarily lost his ever-loving mind. Even though the misunderstanding over the fact that I was not the bride that day had been cleared up, Mitch hadn't let go of the idea that he could still convince me to marry him. As long as there was a chance of a Corgi pregnancy, and possible puppy, binding us, he wasn't letting go. Just like I didn't let go of the frame of that van door when he was trying to stuff me in and abscond with me.

  "All's fair in love and war" should be amended with a second clause—"people go insane in love and war."

  I sighed. The memory of Mitch carting me away from Adam and Chrissy's wedding against my will came flooding back.

  "You're not marrying someone else on our wedding day!" Mitch shakes me like I'm a naughty child. "You're not doing it. I'll kill you first."

  "I'm not marrying anyone," I scream at Mitch, beating his back with my fists. And I mean it. Maybe ever. He's so deluded. Why is everybody mistaking me for a bride today?

  I grab a fistful of his hair and try to pull his head back to make him listen to me and see reason. "Did you hear me? Put me down. I'm just a guest here."

  Dex is running after us, buzzing us with the videographer's drone. He hands the controls to his friend Justin, who continues trying to slow Mitch down by drone dive-bombing him and, consequently, me.

  I'm furiou
s, kicking wildly and futilely into thin mountain air. My feet are flailing, but Mitch is impervious, like he's made of iron. I'm doing more damage to myself than him. At this altitude, why isn't Mitch breathing hard?

  Mitch reaches the van and tries to stuff me in. But in my beautiful dress and gauzy cape, I'm like a large piece of unmanageable fluff that knows how to grab doorframes. I won't be easily stuffed in anywhere. My anger and fear, and the generous tulle skirt of my dress and my billowing cape, make sure of that. They've been the bane of Dex's existence all weekend since he first picked me up in his hot sports car and realized a moving van would have been a better option. But now my attire is saving me from certain kidnapping. I knew I loved this dress for all the right reasons. Like my friend Zander said, owning it was my destiny.

  What does Mitch plan to do with me once he gets me in that van? Drive me to city hall and force me to marry him in a reverse sort of shotgun wedding? Marry him in a dress he believes was bought for another? Has he kidnapped a marriage officiant of some sort, deputized a friend, maybe, who's in that van, ready to perform the ceremony while Mitch drives off? How crazy is crazy?

  My thoughts fly around, grabbing on to random ideas. Our marriage license is still valid. We have plenty of time left before it expires. Is he foolish enough to think he can get me to sign it?

  Even though he just said he'll kill me, I don't believe him. He's never been violent. But he's never kidnapped anyone from what he believes is their wedding before, either. Not to my knowledge, anyway.

  Behind us, Dex puts on a burst of speed. Dex is in fantastic shape. His personal trainer, Stryker, is one of the best in the business. Stryker has kicked Dex's butt until he's nothing but toned muscle. And it's a very fine butt, indeed. I can attest to that.

  Dex's expression is focused. He's dressed for a wedding in a suit that hides the ripple of his muscles as he runs. But I have a very good imagination and have seen those muscles ripple in action before. If you know what I mean.