Loves Billionaires and Corgis: A Feel Good Romance

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Loves Billionaires and Corgis: A Feel Good Romance Page 7

by Gina Robinson


  Maybe I shouldn't have said that? Maybe I should remember that he'd given me Bella?

  "I recognized you. The moment you walked in, my heart stopped beating. You took my breath away. I thought to myself that I have excellent taste in women." He paused as if composing himself. "I never thought I'd see you again." His shook his head. "I thought I'd gotten over you. Damn. I really did. You're like gold fever—impossible to shake."

  Uh? Not what I was expecting.

  "Thanks. I think. Unless you mean I'm more like a parasite or a bad infection." I was trying to lighten things up and put them in perspective.

  "Not like a parasite at all. You got under my skin. You worked your way right into my heart. I've never met another girl like you." He laughed in a self-deprecating way. "I saw you in Vegas, and that was it for me. I took an arrow right to the heart." He thumped his chest. "I knew you were the one. That's why I was so damned eager to get married before you got away."

  I bit my lip, softening to him. The girls were right—he certainly was a charmer.

  "You said you felt the same way." He studied me, looking like he hoped I'd suddenly remember my supposedly tender feelings.

  "Well, I was pretty drunk that weekend. When I drink, I tend to run off at the mouth and get really sentimental about things. Alcohol affects my memory, too, obviously."

  "Yeah, well, you ran," he said, stating the obvious. "But I didn't. All this time in the icy cold of the Yukon, I beat myself up. I wanted to know why. What had I done to scare you off? Why did you leave me?"

  Was he serious? I thought it was obvious—99.99 percent of people don't meet and get married hours later.

  "Cold feet," I said, truthfully. I finally got to use my past to my advantage. "I'm not good at commitment. You saw that with Mitch. That's how you found me, right? That video."

  "Yeah. And I have to give that guy credit. At least he was trying to get you back."

  "By force isn't the best idea," I said.

  Jesse looked like he wasn't so sure, but he kept his opinion to himself. "You really don't recognize me?"

  "I recognize your voice."

  He nodded. "Women seem to like my voice."

  That was an understatement. Maybe he was humble.

  He turned sideways and showed me his profile. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye and raised an eyebrow. "How about now?"

  I studied him. I shook my head. "Sorry."

  "Must be the beard," he said at last. "I shaved it off right before Vegas. That was the only few weeks I've been barefaced in my adult life."

  "That's probably it." I took a deep breath and hitched my thumb toward the door. "Okay, so down to business. What's going on out there? Why the camera crew?"

  "Gold Digger." He seemed to think that explained everything.

  I shrugged.

  "You really don't know? You've never seen it?"

  "No and no." I hated to be so blunt. I hadn't even given the Jesse Parker of Gold Digger a second look when I'd done my Internet stalking. It had seemed so improbable at the time that he was the one.

  "I'm a gold miner. I have my own operation. Me and my team mine thousands of ounces of gold a season. It's mining season now. We can only mine for a few months a year. The rest of the year, we're frozen out. Gold Digger documents our struggles as we try to find gold and meet our yearly gold totals. I'm one of the show's stars." He didn't sound or look like he was bragging. "We're in the middle of filming our new season. I really shouldn't have left the Yukon right now. Every hour counts and is another ounce of gold. My foreman is running things while I'm gone. When I saw that video, I couldn't resist the opportunity to find you again. Especially now that you're single."

  "But I'm not—"

  He talked over my objection. "Luke tried to talk me out of it until I told him the whole story."

  I slapped my forehead. Thanks a lot, Luke.

  "When he heard about our engagement, he ribbed me mightily. I'll never hear the end of it. When he stopped laughing, he realized it would make great TV.

  "Most of the show's drama comes from machinery breakdowns and conflicts with other miners. We need something new to mix things up. And boost the ratings. With women, especially. We do well with the female demographic. Better than you'd think. Women like he-men." He grinned, looking at me as if trying to determine whether I was among that crowd. "But Luke thought if we threw in some romance, we could do even better with the female crowd." His gaze traveled over me like he still couldn't believe I was real.

  "And here I thought you just wanted 'your' dog back. Was that just a pretense?" I hoped. I hoped. I hoped.

  "I want my dog back, too. But I'd prefer the whole package—woman and dog." He paused. "In Vegas, you really didn't know who I was?"

  "You were on the show back then?" I was genuinely surprised. I'd had no idea.

  "I guess that answers my question." He sighed. "I knew it was too good to be true. You were so damn feminine and hot. I like girly women. Elegant chicks who wear satin—"

  "Silk."

  "We have so few women in the Yukon, period. And most of them are either taken, or too macho for my tastes."

  "I suppose it takes a certain amount of fortitude and a strong constitution to live in the frozen north."

  "And here you were, eager to run off with me."

  "Eager" seemed like an overstatement. "Clearly, we had a bit of a communication problem, or gap, whatever you want to call it. I've never been eager to run to the frozen north. And I've never been a groupie of any kind. Certainly not a mining groupie."

  "I was sure I mentioned it." He scratched his head.

  "It's possible you did and I overlooked it. Or that running anywhere but there sounded good at the time. I was coming off a bad breakup back then. To be honest, off a broken engagement." I was running off at the mouth again.

  "The guy from the video?"

  "Mitch?" I laughed, nervous. "No. Someone else."

  His brow furrowed. "How many ex-fiancés do you have?"

  "Too many. But let's not get into specifics." I took a breath. "The whole Vegas thing was clearly a mistake. I'm a dedicated serial engagement kind of girl. But, apparently, I have real aversion to actually walking down the aisle. Seriously, don't take my actions personally."

  I looked him in the eye, wanting him to see my genuine feelings. "I'm really sorry if I hurt you. Really sorry. I was callous. I should have been honest and told you I couldn't go through with the wedding. Leaving you almost at the altar was harsh. I was drunk and scared and not in my right mind. Not an excuse, really, but it explains my state of mind, at least. Now, can we talk about Bella?"

  "Bella? You named my dog Bella?"

  "My dog."

  "I paid for her. I have the papers." He crossed his arms.

  "You gave her to me."

  He shook his head. "I don't remember giving her to you. It was more like a loan for the ceremony. My intent was that she'd be our dog. Help us bond. No our, no dog for you. I was going to name her Goldie."

  "Really? You have memory issues, too? Not surprising, given the circumstances. But here's the thing—Bella is mine. I've had her for two years. We've bonded. I've fed and housed her and paid for all her care. I think all that proves my point. I dare you to prove otherwise."

  "You kidnapped my dog. Taking care of her for two years doesn't pay me back or excuse the crime."

  "Look, let's be reasonable—what would you do with her in the Yukon? Wouldn't you be happier with a Husky or something?"

  "Probably. But you wanted a Corgi."

  I did?

  "See? You bought her for me. As a gift. She's not a Yukon kind of dog. If I'd realized your profession and where you lived, I'm sure I would have picked a more suitable breed. Aren't there wild animals up there that could eat her in a single bite? Eagles that could carry her off, for example?"

  "I want my dog back."

  I bit my lip and stared at the table a moment, dragging my finger through the condensation my glas
s had made. "Here's the thing—Bella is pregnant."

  Chapter Eight

  Make Believe

  Shelby

  Jesse looked as stunned as if I'd just announced that I was pregnant.

  I stared him down. "I'm not letting her go. You'll have to fight me for her."

  I took a deep breath. He seemed like a much more upright guy than I'd imagined, not the boogeyman of my fears. And there was the show to keep him honest. No decent viewer would put up with a man abusing a puppy.

  "I'll give you a puppy. You can't have pick of the litter—that's reserved for the stud's owner, the breeder." No need to say that meant Mitch would end up with it. "I had Bella bred with a purebred Corgi named Bruno. He has papers and everything. You'd have one of Bella's pups. A puppy for a puppy. That's fair. You get what you want. I keep Bella."

  Jesse looked like he might actually go for it. I held my breath. He was seriously mulling it over.

  I hated to spoil the favorable turning of the wheels of his mind, but I had to give him all the information. "There's a catch, though. Another dog got to Bella before I could have her bred. There's a chance of a mixed-paternity litter. A chance there won't be any purebred Corgis."

  Jesse's face clouded.

  "Hang on. This might be better for you anyway. The other breed is a purebred Aussie. So the pups could be Auggies. Which are adorable and totally loveable. Larger. Great herders. Very intelligent. And probably more suited to the Yukon than a Corgi anyway." I looked at him hopefully. I even batted my eyes.

  He took a long time answering. "All right."

  I exhaled, relieved. The eye-batting worked almost every time.

  "On one condition."

  Spoke too soon. "Yeah?"

  "You do the show this season. Go on a few dates with me. Sign a waiver that we can use that footage we just shot. Unless I miss my guess and misread Luke, it's pure ratings gold. The ladies love me. You're going to have to fight them for me—"

  I rolled my eyes. Fight them, indeed. "I have a boyfriend."

  "Two-timer."

  "Two-timer?" I was floored. How dare he—

  "As far as I'm concerned, we're still engaged." He smirked.

  "What?" I nearly came out of my chair.

  "You never officially broke it off." He looked like he was serious.

  "What? You want me to say the words? Because I can and I will." I crossed my arms. I was so not open to him. "I ran," I said. "That's a pretty good indication, I think, that I was out."

  "Temporary cold feet." He was impossible to ruffle. "Happens more often than you think. Like temporary insanity. Real sanity eventually prevails. You'll come to your senses."

  "I will n—"

  He held a finger up. "Don't say it. You can't break off an engagement that easily. Not with a 'shared' dog custody battle looming. And I still have the wedding ring I bought for you."

  I blushed and rolled my eyes a second too late.

  "You still have mine."

  I had a bad tell.

  His face lit up.

  I blushed. "There was no time to return it. I haven't gotten around to pawning it just yet." I glared at him. How do you deal with a man who won't let you break off an engagement? "I'm not giving up my boyfriend."

  "No problem. I'll fight him for you."

  I laughed nervously. "That's ridiculous."

  "Those are my terms."

  "You don't know who you're dealing with," I said. "My boyfriend is positively cunning."

  He shrugged and cracked his knuckles. "But can he throw a punch?"

  I scowled at him. "Besides which, I'm not a prize you can simply duke it out for." I tried to think calming thoughts. "Where would this filming take place, anyway? Here? The Yukon?" I shuddered. "I have a business to run. I can't just dash off to the Yukon on a moment's notice—"

  "You run some kind of girly lettering and bridal boxes services. You can do that anywhere."

  He would know that about me. I didn't like his attitude.

  I gave him my evil eye. "I cannot. I have weddings scheduled here."

  "You'll make it work—"

  "I can't." I hated to plead with him. "How would it look for my business if it gets out that I'm an actual runaway bride? I've already been falsely accused of it once before. Before that video of me being carted away from the wedding. It nearly ruined my reputation and business. If not for—" I stopped myself short from mentioning Dex's name.

  "Falsely? But you are a runaway bride. My little runaway." Jesse knew how to caress a word. Given his natural vocal timbre, it probably didn't take a whole lot of skill or practice.

  "It was another incident. You obviously haven't seen the video of me running away from my dress fitting in my wedding dress for my wedding to Mitch."

  "You ran away before the wedding?" Jesse looked insulted. Like I'd shown Mitch more consideration.

  "I had a longer engagement and a lot more time between the proposal and the wedding to think things through properly." I leaned across the table and put my hand on Jesse's forearm, pleading with my eyes and voice and entire being. "What you're proposing could ruin me—my livelihood, my relationship, my business—"

  "Or it could make you. Think of all the free publicity." He waggled his eyebrows, trying to encourage me, I supposed. "We'll pay you, of course. Luke isn't stingy. He pays well."

  I shook my head.

  "We'll spin the story in your favor. I promise. Luke's a story genius. You'll come out of the season smelling like roses." He inhaled deeply and put on a wolfish grin. "In fact, you already do."

  Damn my floral perfume.

  "Look, it's simple, Shelby. Do the show, give me a genuine chance with you, and I'll take second pick of the litter and give you Bella, no contest. No fight. If not, I'll sue your hot little ass for her." He tossed his napkin on the table. "Think it over. I'm heading back to the Yukon tonight. I'll be back in a week for your answer."

  Shelby

  All the way home, I did nothing but think it over. How did I get myself into these situations?

  I was still shaking when I got home. Bella greeted me enthusiastically. I picked her up and hugged her for dear life. What was the penalty for dognapping? Had the statute of limitations run out? How long would a trial last and how good were my chances of winning? Or affording the legal fees?

  Bella snuggled into me as I settled down on the sofa. What was I going to do? I couldn't even talk to anybody about this without giving myself away. I had nowhere to turn for advice.

  I looked dognapping up on the Internet. Dognapping was a property crime, not a criminal act like kidnapping. But who had jurisdiction—Washington or Nevada? It was a gross misdemeanor in both, with fines or minimal jail time, depending. And restitution. But here's the good thing—the statute of limitations in both was two years. Whew. Just barely past.

  But that didn't prevent Jesse from suing me in civil court for custody. And dragging my name through the mud.

  I wouldn't do jail time, but he could still end up with Bella. And all of her puppies.

  Chapter Nine

  The Entertainer

  Dex (Billionaire looking for advice for the lovelorn from a source without real authority.)

  I got a beer with Justin after work at a place he liked that had karaoke. No sports bars for us. We were geeks, just not sports geeks. Justin loved to sing. No singing today. I needed his advice on women. And you could say I was desperate if I was seeking out Justin's advice. He'd lucked into a marriage with my beautiful cousin Kayla. But he was my best guy friend. I had to work with the resources I had.

  We sat in high stools at a two-person table sideways to the karaoke stage and bar. No karaoke at the moment, but a TV was on over the stage.

  "I'm not the guy to ask." Justin looked uncomfortable and eyed the karaoke machine longingly over his craft beer. "You'd be better off asking Lazer."

  Lazer Grayson was another billionaire friend of ours, mostly Justin's. He was a few years older than us and was Justin's
business mentor. He also had a reputation as a former playboy and now owned a matchmaking service, Pair Us, with his partner, Ashley Harte. I was sure Lazer would be full of advice. And a lot of other things.

  Justin pulled his phone out. "I could ask Lazer. If he doesn't have the answer, which he will, he'll ask Ashley. Between the two of them, we'll get you set. Just asking for a friend—"

  "Over your dead body," I said. "I know over a dozen ways to kill that leave no trace." I grinned evilly. "I'd get away with murder."

  Justin rolled his eyes and set his phone aside. "You read too many spy novels. You say you asked Shelby to move in with you and she said she'd think about it? And left it at that. Sounds like she's conflicted."

  I was afraid he'd say that.

  "Wait a minute." Justin reached for a hand-cut French fry. "How did you ask her? I want exact words."

  I repeated the situation and conversation as close to verbatim as I remembered.

  "There's your problem," he said, stabbing another fry in the air to make his point. "You weren't direct enough. You beat around the bush. Real men don't beat around the bush. They come right out and say, 'Hey, baby, move in with me. How's Saturday?'"

  "I thought I made myself pretty clear."

  Justin rolled his eyes. "Clear as mud. You did what Kay accuses me of doing all the time—trying to fix things. Fix the situation. That's a whole different ball game than 'I'm hot for you, baby.' You offered protection. If she needed it.

  "You added a condition. Confused her with a choice. Maybe she doesn't feel like she needs protection. In which case, your offer is null and void, in her mind. She doesn't want to hang around your place making a nuisance of herself. You have to see it from her point of view."

  He took another fry and dipped it in fry sauce. "You didn't make it clear you want her. Her and only her. Women want to be wanted." He shook his finger at me. "That's the key. In her mind, she thinks you were just being polite. Doing what a boyfriend should do. You need to go the extra mile and make it obvious that you want her to move in with you."

 

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