His Little Wife Lie: A Billionaire Fake Marriage Romance

by Storm, Sloan

  Only a brutish, arrogant ass would try such things. I glanced at him. Yes, I am talking about you.

  I would so not allow any of that. Ever. In private, I mean. On the other hand, a girl's gotta make living.

  I nodded at the attorney. Yes, I understand.

  "Very good."

  Griff just sat there, staring at me. I'm sure he knew full well all the talk about how he wasn't allowed to touch me was turning me on. I hoped he was enjoying himself. Wait, no I didn't.

  Grimacing, I looked at the lawyer again. How long is this agreement anyway?

  The attorney shuffled some paper. "Moving on to the penalty clause."

  Penalty clause?

  "Should Mr. Foster violate any of the proscribed private behaviors, you will receive an additional five thousand dollars per infraction. Conversely, if you refuse any of Mr. Foster's overtures in public, you will forfeit five thousand dollars per infraction."

  Wait. I frowned at Griff. "Hang on. What? We never talked about anything like that."

  He didn't hesitate. "It's there to protect you, Sneaks. We can remove it if you're not comfortable."

  "It seems lopsided to me though." My inner negotiator sprung to life. "You having to spend five thousand seems like a small penalty compared to me having to give up five thousand. Don't you think?"

  Griff lifted his chin. "Hmm. Good point. I'll increase mine to twenty-five thousand per infraction. If you refuse me in public, one dollar for each. Better?"

  Wow. Take that Tiny Me! What do you think about that?

  "Much better. Thank you."

  The attorney marked up the agreement with our changes.

  "Noted. Moving on. Once you sign the agreement, you will immediately receive five hundred thousand dollars wired to your bank account. After you've been recognized by the state of Oregon as being legally married, you will receive the remaining five hundred thousand dollars, also deposited to your bank account. If, at any time, Mr. Foster determines the marriage no longer necessary for any reason, you are agreeing to an uncontested divorce. You also agree to give up any claim to Mr. Foster's estate or holdings thereof."

  I mean, I knew the divorce would be part of the whole arrangement, but for some reason the mention of it bothered me. No idea why. Maybe it's because I only ever thought I'd get married once in my life and certainly, never divorced.

  On the other hand, this wasn't real. Whatever.

  With that, the attorney put down his pen and looked across the desk at me. "Do you have any questions?"

  I didn't at first. And then, out of nowhere, it popped into my head.

  "What about sleeping arrangements?"

  Griff spoke up. "You'll have your own room, actually, wing of the home. Completely separate."

  "Is it in the agreement?" If it wasn't, it needed to be.

  "Yes, Ms. Weischlitz," the attorney replied. "I apologize for not mentioning it. Anything else?"

  "No. I don't think so."

  The attorney nodded and spun the agreement around, offering me his pen." Sign here, please."

  I took it from him and held on tight, eeking out my signature with a shaky scratch. He took it from me, and Griff stood from his chair, pulling a pen from his suit coat pocket. I watched a smile come to the corner of his mouth. With a flourish, he signed it and slipped his pen back in his pocket. The attorney took the signature page and stacked the document on his desk, patting it with his hand and looking at me.

  "I'll have a copy of this prepared for you in case you want to discuss it with an attorney."

  Griff clapped his hands together, startling me. I jumped in my seat, snapping my head in his direction.

  "Let's make this official!"

  I looked up at him and frowned. "Isn't that what we did?"

  Griff motioned for me to stand. When I did, he reached around behind me, digging the fingers of his huge hand into my lower back. My breath stopped, and he pulled my body toward his, crashing it into his hard torso. He lingered there before angling his lips toward mine, pressing them into me.

  It all happened so fast, there wasn't time to resist. And then I couldn't remember. Was I supposed to?

  He pulled away from me, our eyes never left each other. "Get used to it, Sneaks. We're going to be spending a lot of time in public."

  I knew right then and there, getting used to it wasn't going to be easy. Griff turned toward the attorney, extending his hand while my tongue slid across my lips, still wanting more.

  The attorney congratulated me, and I sputtered out and awkward thanks. At least that's what I think I did.

  And just like that, I was officially engaged.

  On paper.

  * * *

  Minutes later, I was back in the limo with my betrothed, the fairy tale now legally binding.

  Even though neither of us had ever been in this situation before, he seemed much more content. On the other hand, I felt like the proverbial fish out of water - hapless and flopping, trying like hell to survive.

  Griff seemed upbeat, excited. He was going on and on, telling me we had a busy time ahead. Next on the agenda would be getting me plugged into the social scene so everyone knew we were engaged. According to him, there was a lot to do and not much time to make it happen.

  "Speaking of that." He snapped his fingers and wiggled his eyebrows at me. "I can't believe I almost forgot."

  I wasn't sure I wanted to know. There always seemed a surprise lurking. Not all of them were good. Griff leaned away from me, reaching inside a compartment in the back of the limousine. At first, I couldn't tell what he was doing.

  "Time to look the part, Sneaks." In his hand, a jewelry box. Griff curled his fingers around it and pried it open. Holy shit!

  My hand flopped across my chest, keeping my heart from bursting out of it. "Is that a real diamond?"

  He slapped his knee and tossed his head back, roaring with laughter.

  "Seriously? Did you really just ask me that? Give me your hand."

  I lifted it and Griff grabbed hold, pinching the ring between his fingers and sliding it over mine. A hard gulp hammered its way down my throat.

  "Almost a perfect fit." He let go of me and eased back into the seat. "We'll get that fixed."

  Half-listening, I sat there hypnotized, moving my hand from side to side. Even with the faint lighting coming in through the tinted windows, a kaleidoscope of colors sparkled from the massive rock. It seemed ironic that the symbol of our phony marriage was the most real part of it.

  "What do you think? Do you like it?"

  Do I like it? Umm, yeah. What the hell kind of question is that?

  I looked at him. "Of course. I mean, it's stunning. I don't understand though. How… When did you have time to get this?"

  He gave me a satisfied nod. "I have a lot of friends in town. Let's leave it at that."

  While he spoke, I lowered my hand to my knee, still in awe of the stone.

  "You really shouldn't have gotten me anything like this." I looked at him again. "It's too much."

  Griff gave a casual flick of his wrist. "That's what's expected."

  God, it was so heavy. It almost felt like I had a sixth finger on my hand.

  I reached for the box. "I'll keep it safe. Unless we're going out, it will stay in here."

  Without a word, he scooted close to me, reaching for my hand and taking it in his.

  "Don't be ridiculous." He closed his other hand over the top of mine, giving it a gentle caress. "You have nothing to worry about. No one is going to steal the ring from you. The sooner you get comfortable wearing it, the sooner our relationship starts to look more real."

  He lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed it before giving me a quick wink. Wait. Is this public or private?

  "And anyway, I get it back after the divorce."

  Funny. I knew he meant that as a joke. And really, I should've laughed. But everything was so surreal. Agreements, kissing, an engagement ring, and the inevitability of divorce. I was having a hard time maki
ng sense of it all. Not that it made any.

  "Griff, I…"

  He extended his index finger. Hold that thought. The limo came to an abrupt stop. "Home at last."

  The door opened, and a man poked his head inside, beaming a mouth full of white at us. "Mr. Foster! Good afternoon!"

  "Terrence. How the hell are you?"

  "Excellent! Even better now that you're back."

  Griff started to exit, extending his hand for me. I stepped out, and Terrence's big smile reappeared.

  "And this must be the future Mrs. Foster!" He pinched the brim of his doorman's cap between two fingers. "Pleasure to meet you. I'm Terrence."

  "H — Hi, Terrence. You can call me Lily. It's nice…"

  Before I could say anything else, Griff interrupted me. "Have all the arrangements been made?"

  "Yes, sir. Absolutely."

  After the introductions, Terrence gathered our things, and we headed inside. We made several stops on the way to the elevator, Griff stopping to shake hands and chat with the staff. Of course, they all knew my name already. I kept thinking I'd meet someone who didn't, but it never happened.

  Eventually, we made our way to the elevator. Adorned in gold and mirrors, it had more buttons than the cockpit of a fighter jet. Terrence produced a card from his coat, inserted it, and tapped the largest button of all. It read PH. After an ear popping ascent, the doors opened into a great room. Directly in front of me, a massive bank of floor to ceiling windows.

  Jesus.

  Terrence stepped to one side and extended his arm. "Welcome home, Mrs. Foster."

  I stepped out, and Griff followed. "I can take it from here, Terrence."

  "Nice to meet you again, Mrs. Foster."

  I smiled at him. "You too."

  The elevator doors closed with a whisper, and I followed Griff inside.

  "Let me give you a quick tour," he said, wheeling my carry-on next to him. "Then I've got to get going."

  "You're leaving?"

  "Yes. I've got to get to work."

  "Oh." I wasn't sure why I hadn't thought of that. Of course billionaires have to work. That's why they're billionaires - because they work all the time.

  We continued walking, entering the main living area. He proceeded to give me the highlights, showing me the kitchen and the hallway leading down to my wing. The place was at least the size of the creamery offices, maybe bigger.

  "The chef has stocked the fridge." He kept rattling off details. "Your room has been prepared and is waiting for you. Oh, and come here."

  Griff led me over to the windows, and I froze. "Oh whoa." How high were we?

  He took notice and tried to reassure me. It helped. But not much. He spent a few minutes pointing out some things he thought I might enjoy. A handful of beautiful parks, perfect for running. Some great restaurants in case I didn't like what the chef had prepared.

  "Anyway, there's plenty do around here. You should get out, see the city."

  I appreciated it, but it felt like I was being dropped off at a daycamp or something. "When will you be back?"

  Griff leaned against the window, hands in his pockets. "Missing me already?"

  "No." I looked away from him, taking in the enormity of the place. It started to feel, I dunno, cold all of a sudden.

  He eased himself upright. "I've quite a bit of catching up to do around the office. Is that going to be a problem?"

  "No, I mean, I guess not. I know you need to work."

  The beginnings of a smile came to the corners of his mouth. "Look, just think of it as a vacation. Relax and enjoy it. And anyway, you're going to need your rest. My personal shopper will be here first thing to take you dress shopping for tomorrow night."

  "What's happening tomorrow night?"

  He frowned at me. "I'm sure I mentioned it."

  "No."

  "My best friends, Trav and Gunnar. They're having a little get together for us. It's nothing too elaborate. A couple hundred people, some media."

  A couple hundred people? Media?

  "Sneaks, you're marrying the most eligible man on the entire West Coast, probably the country. Inquiring minds will want to know how you managed it when no other woman could."

  Griff started to walk away, leaning in toward my cheek. Um, what is he doing? This had to be private.

  "Close call there." His voice not much louder than a whisper. "Christ, almost spent an extra twenty-five grand, and the first day's not even over yet."

  He moved away. The motion was like a gravitational force, pulling me toward him. Oh man. This is going to be a problem.

  Griff straightened his jacket. "I'll be back very late tonight. If you need anything, let Terrence know."

  He turned and walked away. I stood there watching until he disappeared from sight. The elevator door opened and closed, and just like that, I was all alone.

  I started to wander around, checking out the decor and taking in the views from a safe distance. His place was immaculate, more like a museum than a bachelor pad. The furnishings were modern, yet tasteful. He must have had a decorator, no way he'd pulled it off by himself. The Griff Foster I met at the ranch was too unsophisticated, too primitive.

  Which one was real?

  Looking out the window, I noticed the beginnings of rain. At first, it was a light drizzle, but in a matter of minutes, the skies started to darken, and the light mist gave way to a steady, hard downpour. Maybe I'll go out later.

  I decided to check out my room, taking the hallway toward my wing.

  Walking inside, I stopped, hearing the soft subtle sounds of jazz music playing in the background. The drapes were closed, a warm orange glow illuminated the room. I walked over toward the bed where a robe and slippers waited for me. It had been turned down with fresh flowers and a small chocolate placed on the pillow. On the nightstand was a piece of paper and a pen. Across the top the words, Preference Sheet. I was to fill it out so the chef would know what kinds of food I liked.

  Was this a home or a five-star hotel? All of a sudden, I wasn't so sure.

  Maybe it was the insanity of the past couple of days, maybe it was the inviting environment. Whatever it was, it felt like I belonged in that bed. A few minutes later, I'd taken off my clothes and slipped into the robe, melting into the most comfortable mattress I'd ever experienced.

  And then I remembered. The money. I'd completely forgotten about it.

  Swiping on my phone, I logged into my bank account, shaking my head in disbelief. It was already there. Turning my phone off, I eased my head into the pillow and blew out a deep breath. Three days ago, I was just a working stiff, barely able to help mom with rent money.

  Now look.

  I reached for the silky sheets, tugging them toward my neck, when I felt the weight of it again. Even in the faint lighting, the ring still sparkled.

  No turning back now.

  14

  Reluctant Debutante (Lily)

  Griff wasn't kidding. The next day was a whirlwind. His personal shopper showed up after breakfast, and we'd spent most of the day together. I wouldn't say I was starting to get used to living like this, but it was easier than yesterday.

  In the evening, I was in my room, naked, standing in front of a full-length mirror, and trying to decide which dress I wanted to wear. I'd narrowed it down to two choices. It's not like I was a fashion expert. No one wore dresses back home. Except for weddings. Oh, and funerals. But this was neither, and I felt lucky his personal shopper did the heavy lifting because I never would have been able to decide.

  Anyway, she'd suggested a couple of them. For several minutes, I stood there holding each one in front of my body, hoping a decision would come to me.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  I glanced toward the door. "Who is it?"

  "It's Griff."

  I hadn't seen or talked to him since he left for work the day before. "Um, not now. I'm not decent."

  He didn't respond. Nothing but silence. And then, another series of knocks followed
by a terrible impersonation of a woman.

  "Housekeeping," his voice cracked.

  I smiled and shook my head. Ass. "I said no! I will be ready in a few minutes."

  "Don't keep me waiting, Sneaks. We're leaving in fifteen." Fifteen!

  I reached for my cell phone, not realizing I'd lost track of time. Oh shit! Hustling to finish, I managed to get ready in record time and stopped in front of the mirror. With a final shimmy and tug on my dress I left the bedroom.

  Griff came into view. He stood there on his phone, thumbs racing, when the sound of my heels caught his attention. With a subtle shift of his chin, he looked toward me. He wore a suit with no tie, the top buttons of his shirt undone. My eyes shifted toward his tanned skin, exposed and tempting me. I approached, and a big smile spread across his face.

  Those brilliant blues roamed, moving up and down my body. Get an eyeful because that's all you're gonna be getting.

  "Well, well… if it isn't Mrs. Fake Foster. Let's have a look." He slipped his cell phone in his jacket and motioned with his finger for me to turn around.

  I stopped, lifting my arms a bit and giving him a slow spin. By the time I finished, he'd moved and stood directly in front of me, his face inches from mine. I sucked in a tiny breath. It caught in my throat, frozen there like his eyes were on my lips. What is he doing? An inappropriate place between my thighs tingled.

  "Your perfume? Is it new?" He closed his hand around my wrist, raising it toward his nose.

  I hummed a response between closed lips. "Mm, hmm."

  The tip of it brushed against my arm. He inhaled, sending a puff of heat to my wrist. Oh man. He knew exactly what he was doing. I twitched at the wrist, unconsciously trying to pull free of him. I worried that if I didn't, the zipper on the back of my dress might undo itself.

  But he held me firm and continued working his way up my arm, following the faint floral scent all the way to my neck while my body turned to gelatin. By the time he took a final whiff, I'd almost forgotten to breathe again. And, of course, I did nothing to stop him.