Fake Bride: A Billionaire Boss Fake Marriage Romance

by Cassandra Bloom

  “You’ll tell me. For now, bring your bag. Once we’re there I’ll get you sorted out. Oh, do you have any problems with flying?”

  30 minutes later we’re on top of the building. We board the helicopter and Maya grips my knee as Mike takes us up into the sky. She’s not scared, but she isn’t comfortable. Good. Comfort leads to complacency. Mike takes us 15 minutes outside of town, up into the mountains. I have him land at the helipad near the cabin where we’re going to spend the next few days.

  “Do I even need to ask if this is yours?” she says.

  “Only if the muse moves you,” I say, taking my bag out of the helicopter.

  “What are we doing here?” she says.

  “Research. More research.”

  “Like last night?” she says. I hear the mixture of hope and irritation in her voice. Perfect. Let her keep smoldering. It’ll be more fun when she finally blows her top. So far everything is going according to plan.

  “We’ll see,” I say. We go inside and set our stuff down in the foyer. The cabin belonged to my father. Lots of people say they need a way to “get away from it all,” but dad meant it. He proved it. This cabin traverses the boundary between isolation and solitude.

  “It’s gorgeous,” says Maya. “How long are we going to be here?”

  “Two weeks, if I’m right about certain things. But how long can you afford to be here?” I say. “We might be hiding out for a while. That wild cop is still out there looking for me, you know. I need to lay low.”

  Maya rolls her eyes. “Conrad, seriously. What are we doing here? Can we just talk like adults for a few sentences? Without riddles?”

  “Yes. Yes, we can. We really are here to do some research, Maya. That doesn’t mean it’s all going to be doom and gloom, or fun and games. There will probably be some of both.” I thought about how it had felt when she reached into my pants. “But right now I want to take a quick nap. I’ll explain some things to you later. Your bedroom is to the right at the top of the stairs. If you want to go for a walk or sit outside there’s a pond in back. It’s impossible to miss. Before we start working tonight, there’s something I need you to think about for me.”

  “And what might that be?”

  “I need you to think about whether someone can actually learn to become a good person.”

  That catches her off guard. She’s always prepared to respond to something flippant with something brassy. She’s not as good at handling sincerity. When people are off balance, that’s when you really need to watch them.

  Before she can say more I go to my room and lie down. I got plenty of sleep last night, but something about her takes it out of me. In a good way. But when I get in bed my eyes won’t shut. I think about the first time I saw her. She has no idea that she was there when a piece of the old me died.

  I’ve spent so many nights in this room. I miss my dad. I can admit it. We understood each other. When you have as much as I do, the ability to make small talk with people disappears. It’s tough to know what people want from you, but they all want something. So many people act as if we’re great pals, but in the end, they always ask for something. It sounds like such a cliché, but is it so wrong that I want to know that someone wants me because I’m me, and not because of what I have?

  Well, Maya wants something I have. More than one thing, in fact. That’s not a bad thing. She’s here because she’s curious. She’s here because she’s part of my story. She doesn’t even know.

  But she will. Tonight, she will. And it’s going to feel good to get a few things off my chest.

  Chapter Eleven - Maya

  I go for the walk. I didn’t sleep much last night and he damn well knows it. But I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of listening to me yawn all afternoon. It’s lovely out here. I can’t tell if I think it’s lonely or not. I wonder how often Conrad comes here, and what he gets out of it. Thoughts of him from last night rush in between every breath I take. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here. I also don’t know how I’m supposed to get through the next few days without my stuff. I’ve got a toothbrush and my change of clothes. That’s about it.

  The pond is the color of the cloudy sky. It’s so quiet out here. You can get used to anything, and the background noise of the city barely registers to me anymore. Until I’m in a place like this, where I can actually hear the water stirring in the slight breeze. It’s the kind of place, and moment, that you want to share with someone. It’s been a long time since I’ve shared anything real with someone besides Angela. My most serious relationship had been with a guy named Ian. It was good but not great. Still, I thought we might wind up together. When Ian told me he was leaving me for someone else, I couldn’t believe it. It hurt, it always does, but once he was gone, it wasn’t just him that I missed. I thought about how we would never do certain things together again. Even if there were a million perfect moments in my future, there was no longer any guarantee that anyone would be there to share them with me. In a way, it felt like I had stopped existing, and I don’t mean that in the “You’re not complete without a man” way. But other people prove to us that we’re here.

  Which brings me back to here. Where is here? What are we doing? I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for a real mystery. Now I’ve got one. Of course, the mystery could turn out to be why I let myself get talked into any of this.

  There are ducks on the pond. I didn’t see when they flew in, but now they’re drifting around in a lazy circle. Now I see a frog on the bank. It’s a regular wildlife party out here. But now I’m thinking about Conrad and his hands, and shoulders, and how he’s lying in a bed—or so he says—thirty seconds from where I sit. The real animal is in the cabin and I still don’t know what he wants from me.

  I turn to look, half expecting to find him watching me from the upstairs window like a serial killer. But the window is empty. Conrad’s not in his bed anymore, though, he’s walking down the trail towards me with a smile on his face.

  “Here,” he says, handing me a bag of bread slices. Then he whistles.

  “You can’t whistle for ducks,” I say. “They’re not like—”

  At the sound of his whistle, the ducks turn and glide towards us. Shows what I know about ducks, I guess. “Wow, I say. You’re like the duck whisperer.”

  “Maybe that’s the book you should write,” he says. “The Man Who Loved Ducks.”

  I tear a few pieces of bread and toss the chunks into the water. The ducks go wild. They were obviously expecting this. “What makes you think that my book would be about you?”

  “I think there’s a big role for you in it,” he says. Conrad sits in the chair next to me and sighs. Then he takes my hand. I turn my head to look at him, but he’s staring at the lake. I don’t take my hand away. Whatever this is, it’s a shared moment.

  “Are you happy?” I say.

  He laughs. “I’d have to be a pretty ungrateful, crazy bastard to say no, right?”

  “Does that mean you’re a crazy, ungrateful bastard?”

  He turns towards me. “The truth is, I’ve never been that interested in happiness. I’m not sure what it means. At least, that’s what I thought. I always had a plan. I always knew what was going to be next. So I executed the plan and I got what I wanted. Did that make me happy? I didn’t really think about it like that.”

  “You’re talking about it in the past tense like something changed.”

  Conrad smiles. He squeezes my hand. “Something has. Something did.”

  “What was it?” The sun is starting to set behind him and it’s making his blond hair look like it’s on fire.

  “That’s for me to know and you to find out,” he says, taking his hand away. “Now, you’re still my assistant. It just so happens that I need some assisting this evening.”

  “After the stunt you pulled last time, you think I’m going to come anywhere near you?”

  “Yes. I think you will. It’s my job to know what people are like.”

&
nbsp; Whatever it is, it’s a shared moment.

  “Come on,” he says. “I’ve got a couple of things for you. Then we’ll eat. Then we’ll get to work.” He stands up and takes the bread from me, which I had forgotten about. He throws the slices into the pond like they’re Frisbees. The ducks rush back into the water in a quacking mob. I watch his broad back as he strides back to the cabin. There’s nothing to do but follow him. To see where this leads.

  When I get inside, the kitchen table is covered in toiletry supplies. “I know we left quickly,” he says, “and I wasn’t sure how long we’d be here, so I had my pilot go into town and get some supplies for you.”

  It looks like enough supplies to keep us here until Judgment Day. “So, we might be out here for like…a year?” Is this going to turn into a horror movie? Does he know something I don’t? Has the world I knew been destroyed by nuclear radiation and we’re the last people in the world?

  “Not a year. We don’t have enough food for that,” he says, getting into the refrigerator. “But what we do have, I’m about to cook for you. So strap yourself in.”

  As shared moments go, even if we’re about to plunge into the apocalypse, there are worse ones than having a hot billionaire cook for you in a cabin. “I’m strapped,” I say. “But I still want to know what we’re doing out here. What are we working on?”

  “Well,” he says, “Isn’t it obvious? We’re just trying to get to the bottom of it all?”

  I ask him what in the world he’s talking about. He happily ignores me.

  Chapter Twelve- Conrad

  Now that she’s here, I’m having second thoughts about telling her. But I’m going to. She’s been more than patient with me. But first, I’m going to cook. She’s sitting in the living room reading something. I keep sneaking glances at her. I’m sure she knows. I'm worried about how natural this feels. This is what people do, right? They spend time at home together. They eat dinner. They talk. They reveal themselves.

  I’m not in the habit of revealing myself. What people know of me is what I show them, and it’s always a calculation.

  While the steaks are cooking, I ask Maya to go into the wine cellar and pick whatever looks good to her. She comes back up with two bottles of red and astonishment on her face. I take a bow. I’ve got a hell of a wine cellar. Then she goes back to her book and I finish cooking and set the table. After lighting two candles I call her in and pull out her chair for her. I have outdone myself, but right now I don’t understand it much better than she does. I did more than I needed to.

  “So,” I say, after we ooh and aah our way into the steaks. “I have a bit of a confession to make.”

  Maya takes a sip of her wine, holding my eyes over the rim of her glass. She isn’t going to make this easy for me. She isn’t going to ask. She thinks she can outlast me, and maybe she’s right, for now.

  “I wasn’t hiring for an assistant, although I really do want to write the book. The truth is…I put out that ad so I could meet you.”

  She sets her glass down. “What? Why would you want to meet me?”

  The fact that she has to ask means that she can’t see what I see. “Once I saw you on that video, I knew that you were someone I wanted to know. In person. This isn’t easy for me to say, Maya, but I feel like I already know you.”

  “After one video, a couple of times together, and running out on me after getting me so horny?” She’s smiling, but she’s confused as well. Wary. Wariness is a sign of intelligence.

  “That’s the other part of the confession. It wasn’t just that video. It was all of them.”

  “Wait, you watched all of my videos?”

  “As many as I could find.”

  “Conrad, there are over five hundred hours of my lectures on Youtube.”

  “Then yes, I’ve watched them all. Don’t you think you’re worth five hundred hours?” I’m starting to feel the wine. I’m starting to feel how she would feel in my hands. How she would taste on my tongue.

  “I’m flattered. I think. But why did you watch them all?”

  “Because of the way you talk. Because you’re trying to understand the world. Because it’s my job to understand what people are like, and how they fit together. And to know if they’ll fit together.”

  “That’s all?”

  “It’s enough. Most people just don’t care. They think that they live a passionate life because they have a favorite show. You aren’t like that. I couldn’t stop. I felt creepy, honestly, like I was a stalker.”

  “Well, I put them online so people would watch them. That’s what they’re for. I just didn’t think that any playboy billionaires were going to be watching them.”

  “You were saying things that I needed to hear.”

  She takes another sip of wine. It’s no secret that everyone looks good in candlelight, but she is angelic. Is it wrong to feel lust for an angel? Either way, it’s happening.

  “And everything I know tells me that we’ll fit together,” he says.

  She puts down her glass. “Okay. But now, Conrad, I need you to hear something from me. And I want you to really listen.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m listening.” What the hell is she playing at?

  “Tonight we’re going to talk about your project. I’m still willing to be your assistant. But first I need something from you.”

  Is she going to ask for a raise? Does she want a credit on the book?

  “I want you to take me upstairs and do whatever it is you’re dying to do to me. Are we clear?”

  Now she’s speaking my language. She’s bold, but she has no idea what she just let herself in for.

  “Crystal clear,” I say, standing up so fast that my chair falls behind me. Within seconds I have tossed her over my shoulder and I’m heading upstairs, taking them two at a time.

  Chapter Thirteen- Maya –

  Conrad tosses me onto the bed like I’m lighter than air. “Don’t move,” he says, starting to unbutton his shirt. When he’s done he drops it to the floor. His body is better than I had imagined it would be, and I had imagined a lot. His abs are as good as his shoulders are as good as his arms are as good as his jawline are as good as his traps. When he unbuckles his pants I have to disobey. “Let me,” I say, moving despite his commands. I’ve got my fingers in the waistband of his shorts and now I’ve got them off of him.

  If I was a worshipping type of girl, this cock might be the kind of thing that would get me to go to church. Hell, if it feels as good as it looks, I might convert here on the spot. I take him in my hand and he’s so hard. He’s so ready. But he slaps my hand away. “Turn around,” he says.

  I do what he says and position myself on all fours. He pulls up my skirt and yanks down my panties. He leaves a trail of kisses down my back, over my ass, and reaches beneath me, filling his hands with my breasts. He unzips my blouse and undoes my bra in seconds. He puts his fingers in his mouth and wets the tips, which he then uses to play with my nipples. I’m pushing backward with my ass, trying to find a touch of his cock, but he moves, enjoying my search.

  There is a sharp sound and mild sting when he slaps my ass.

  “Do it again,” I say, moaning.

  He spanks me again, a little harder.

  “Oh my God,” I say. “Please. Conrad, please, I need it.”

  He clamps his hand down on the back of my neck. The other hand grabs my ass and moves me into position. His cocks slaps against my ass and the thought of it in his massive hand makes me quiver. Just when I start to beg him again he rubs against my wetness with the tip of it. He puts it in an inch, then two, then withdraws. When I open my mouth to talk he reaches up and puts his thumb in it. I taste it against my tongue, suck hard, and he thrusts himself inside of me. I nearly explode with a sensation so strong that it hardly registers as pleasure. I’m lost, knowing only that my waist in his hands, his cock is slamming into me, and I can hear myself making noises that I’ve never heard
.

  He reaches around and starts toying with my clit. I push myself back against him. I can’t touch him enough. I can’t feel him enough. But I also feel buried inside of him. He leans forward and presses his chest lightly into my back. His hands slam down into the mattress outside of mine. He begins to thrust faster, harder, and he’s growling in my ear.

  “Don’t ever stop,” I say.

  “I wouldn’t know how,” he says, licking my earlobe lightly. I come as hard as I ever have, and I’m terrified that I’ll never have this experience again. Maybe if I close my legs around him tightly enough he’ll never be able to get away. Then I come again and I feel him pulsing inside me, but I’m not ready for him to stop. It takes all of my willpower to crawl forward a couple of feet. The feeling of him withdrawing is agony, but I know what he needs now. It won’t be long.

  Conrad -

  When she pulls away I’m so frenzied that I nearly chase her down. But she returns to me within seconds. She puts her hands on my chest and pushes until I’m lying on my back. She runs her tongue the length of my cock, then climbs on and straddles me. I cup her ass in my hands and she begins to rock.

  I sit up and put a hand in her hair. I pull her head back and put one of her nipples in my mouth, sucking gently, then not so gently. Her moans grow louder, then start to become screams. I spank her lightly, then not so lightly. I put my hands under her ass and lift her, guiding her up and down my shaft. She puts her arms around my neck, completely surrendering. Her hips drive against me over and over. I kiss her neck pull her down harder. She’s taking it all and my only regret is that there’s no way to go deeper.

  When I want a different view I lie back and tell her to ride me hard. She puts her hands on my chest while I run my fingertips up and down the insides of her thighs. I get her off once, then again. The sight of her shivering, shuddering body nearly puts me over the edge, but I’d never forgive myself if I let this end now. Not yet. Just when she begins to slow her movements, I reach back and lightly press against her ass with one fingertip. She stiffens, then relaxes, and now I’m inside her in one more way. With my cock inside of her and my finger playing with her ass, I sit up once more and kiss her. She bites at my lips and chin. It’s a hell of a thing, to see two people reduced to appetites. It’s the best thing there is.