Wanted: Billionaire's Wife

by Susannah Erwin

  Phoebe closed her menu and put it down on the plate in front of her, careful to square the corners so they were aligned perfectly with the plane of the table. “My son has never been married before, Danielle. And certainly not to someone whom we’ve never met, whose name barely shows up in a web search, much less on any social rosters of any import.”

  “You’ve learned to use a web browser. Good for you,” Luke said. “Let’s cut to the chase. You wanted to inspect my wife. Here she is. She even agreed to the inspection, which says far more about her than any internet search could. Now, can we order?”

  Jonathan cleared his throat. “It’s a rare occasion when I can have lunch with my son and his beautiful wife.” He patted Danica’s hand where it rested on the table’s surface. “It’s such a nice day, wouldn’t you agree? I do miss living here at times. Tell me, did you grow up in California?”

  “No, Rhode Island.”

  “Ah, Newport! I know it quite well. Do you sail? I’ve always said there is nothing in a man’s soul that can’t be cured by an hour of wind in your hair and sea salt in your face. Bracing!” He chuckled, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

  “Sorry, I don’t sail,” Danica said. “And you probably know Newport better than I do.”

  “Tennis, then. Surely you play. We must have you out to the club when you come to Florida. Doubles, perhaps, although you two kids would wipe us old folks off the court. Speaking of—” he turned to Luke “—your stepmother and I are at the top of doubles ladder this month, again. The interclub tournament should be a cakewalk this year. At the board meeting, I told them the club is going to need a bigger trophy case. Ha!” He guffawed. “The guys at the club are still laughing.”

  “Danica isn’t much for organized sports,” Luke said, flashing a conspiratorial grin in her direction.

  “No?” Jonathan’s eyebrows met in the middle of his forehead. “Golf?”

  She shook her head.

  “What about skiing? That’s not too organized. Especially not the way we do it.” He chuckled and shook his head. “By the time we arrive in Vail and open the house, it’s too late to hit the slopes. We hit the schnapps.”

  “Sure. I ski,” Danica said. She had a feeling if she didn’t land on a sport, Jonathan would continue to quiz her until he found one. And it wasn’t a lie. Much. In high school she went on a school trip to a ski resort in New Hampshire and fell down the bunny slope a few times.

  “Great!” Jonathan flashed two rows of very white, very straight teeth at her. “It’s settled. Christmas in Colorado.”

  “Dad—” Luke began.

  “Oh, please, Jonathan.” Phoebe cut off her son. “One, you just met the girl. Two, no one knows who she is or what she wants from Luke. This...whatever it is...came wholly out of the blue and I can’t believe you’re swallowing this malarkey. Three, you have no idea if she will still be around next week, much less by Christmas. Four, Irene said—”

  “All right.” The thunderclouds building on Luke’s expression erupted into a storm. He stood up. “You wanted a meeting, you got one. It’s now over.” He put his hands on the back of Danica’s chair, ready to pull it out so she could stand up. “Danica, let’s go.”

  “Lucas Dallas, sit down,” Phoebe commanded. “We’re not done, and we won’t be until we’ve figured out how to handle this situation you got yourself into. You have very specific obligations to uphold and we need a plan.”

  “I have a plan,” he responded. His gaze caught Danica’s. It brimmed with many things, chief among them long-held pain mixed with frustrated exasperation.

  And apology. To her. For exposing her to this. Concern, for any discomfort his parents caused her. Her heart squeezed so hard, she was surprised she could still breathe.

  He broke contact to look at his parents. “And the plan is we’re leaving. Ready?” He offered his hand to Danica.

  No. She wasn’t ready. She didn’t know what to do. What to say. Phoebe wasn’t wrong. Danica might still be around for the coming Christmas, but she wouldn’t be present for Christmases further in the future. Her relationship with Luke was indeed, from a certain point of view, malarkey.

  But not for the reasons Phoebe inferred. Danica didn’t want anything from Luke or his family. Certainly not money—although, her guilty conscience piped up, she accepted the consulting gig because of the dollars he promised her. But it wasn’t the reason why you agreed to the marriage, her libido shot back.

  Her heart remained silent, but only because she knew what it would say. She was in love with Luke. Had been, ever since their dinner at the taqueria.

  It was also hopeless.

  She rose to her feet, wincing at the loud noise as the metal chair scraped across the tiled patio floor. “Mrs. Ailes, I understand your concern. This is the first time you’ve met me, and I’m married to your son. I would be suspicious if I were in your shoes too.”

  Luke’s gaze flashed a warning signal she would be stupid to ignore.

  She did so anyway. “I’ll tell you the truth. Your son—”

  “Danica.” Luke’s tone could have carved granite. He wasn’t cautioning her to stop speaking. He was demanding.

  “Your son,” she started again, despite the typhoon of disapproval aimed in her direction, “is a very special man. I didn’t want to fall in love with him. I fought it.” Did I ever. “But the more time I spent in his presence, the more it was inevitable.”

  She didn’t dare look at Luke. Still, she sensed he held himself ramrod straight, not moving a muscle. “I know this marriage is sudden, but the emotion is real.” On my side, at least.

  She took a deep breath, and then slowly let it out. “I can’t impress you. But you should be very impressed by your son. He deserves your trust and support, in all matters. Including who he marries.” Whoever she will be, after I’m long gone.

  Phoebe stared at Danica throughout her speech, her dark blue gaze unblinking. But at the end, she raised one perfectly groomed eyebrow and nodded, ever so slightly.

  “That was a beautiful speech, my dear,” Jonathan said. “Just beautiful.” He turned to his ex-wife. “See, Phoebe, it won’t be a problem getting her to sign a postnup even though the wedding already occurred. You always did worry over trivial things.” He clapped his hands together. “Well, now that we have that settled, let’s have a meal. Sit back down, you two.”

  Danica barely heard him over the whooshing of her pulse beating loudly in her ears. She didn’t dare look at Luke. “I need to visit the ladies’ room. You three talk.” She walked-ran toward the dim, cool interior of the restaurant.

  But once she was inside, shivering in the air conditioning, she did not turn down the hallway the hostess indicated to her. Instead she turned right, through the central dining room toward the main exit to the street, and kept walking.

  She would never get used to Luke’s world. Could never adjust. Ski chalets in Vail, country clubs, social rosters...she shook her head. It was as if she had spent the last half hour in another country. Scotland, maybe. Or Australia. Somewhere where she understood the basic words, but the context was wholly new.

  She took in her surroundings for the first time. The main street was lined with restaurants and shops, the kind that had hand-painted wooden signs on the outside but scarves that cost as much as a monthly payment on her student loans displayed inside. A block away she spotted a turquoise bench, flanked by terracotta pots bursting with red geraniums. It was a bit too cheerful for her present mood, but at least she could sit and contemplate her next move.

  The bench was warm from the sun, but an ocean breeze kept the temperature pleasant. Good, because her cheeks were hot enough to be a fire hazard. She cringed at the thought of seeing Luke after she’d declared her love for him to his parents, of all people. What must he be thinking? She drew her knees up, encircling them with her arms, and buried her face on top of them.


  “You have a habit of running out of restaurants.” Luke’s solid presence sat down next to her.

  She took a deep breath and raised her head. There was a faint smile on his face. He didn’t seem upset she had run out on him and his family. If anything, he was a bit wary. As if he didn’t know what to expect from her.

  And why would he know what to expect, when that speech had surprised herself? Better to get this conversation over with so they can both pretend it never happened and go back to their previous arrangement. She unfolded her limbs and gave him a lopsided smile. “I didn’t run out of the taqueria. I even offered to pay.”

  “I’m also counting the sushi at the benefit.”

  “Hey, Chef Nagao was the one who ran out. Of fish.”

  He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His gaze remained wary. “I’m sorry,” he said simply.

  He was sorry? For what? She was the one who’d opened mouth, inserted foot, ankle and calf. “You have no need to apologize.”

  He snorted. “You were already doing me a favor by coming to lunch. You didn’t have to give that speech too. Now I really owe you.”

  “A favor?” She unfolded her legs and sat up straight, turning so she could meet his gaze head on. He thought of what she said as a favor? She didn’t know whether to be happy at the out he gave her or upset he thought her words weren’t 100 percent real. “I didn’t—”

  He made an impatient sound deep in his throat. “You know what I mean. But that went above and beyond.” He picked up her hand, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles. As always, hot lightning sparked where their hands connected and spread through her veins. “I appreciate it, Danica. I appreciate you.”

  Appreciate. It was a nice word. In the past, she’d wished Johanna had used it more frequently when applied to her work. But coming from Luke—

  It was like being handed a brussels sprout when one craved a steak. She didn’t want his appreciation. She wanted his love.

  But it wasn’t on the menu. She pulled her hand from his and gave him a wide smile. “Just trying to do my temporary husband a solid,” she said brightly. “I’m sorry I ran out.”

  He gave her a one-sided smile. “I’m sorry I put you through that.”

  His approval wrapped around her like a warm blanket. It should be enough. He gave it so rarely.

  But while she enjoyed his appreciation, it wasn’t enough. Would never be enough. “You did warn me,” she said, plastering a smile on her face. “We should go back to the restaurant, so I can apologize to your parents for being gone so long.”

  “You mean so they can apologize to you. Which they will. But they left right after you. Seems an earlier tee time for my father just happened to open up, while my mother conveniently forgot she had plans to meet friends in the city.” He stood and offered her his right hand. “I know a great burger joint between here and Palo Alto. Interested?”

  She nodded and took his hand, his fingers curling around hers, and he pulled her off the bench. It felt so natural to continue to hold his hand as they strolled through the charming downtown on the way back to his car. She paused to point out the terrible wine puns on display in a cheese shop. “Everything happens for a Riesling,” she groaned.

  “I just called to say Merlot,” Luke countered. “Que Syrah, Syrah.”

  She laughed, turning to resume their journey toward the carpark. But she stopped, just for a second, when she caught a glimpse of their reflection in the shop’s window.

  They looked like a couple. A real couple. Out for a stroll, enjoying the beautiful weather. Enjoying each other.

  But she knew the truth. Luke was engaged in a game of wits with Irene and Nestor Stavros, and she was just a chess piece. She kept her gaze focused on the sidewalk all the way back to the car.

  Nine

  Luke drove the borrowed truck as fast as the speed limit would allow to Danica’s rented house. In the weeks since the marriage, Danica had spent nearly every night at his place, but she still maintained her own place. Finally, he’d put his foot down. It was important this marriage had all the appearances of a real one when Nestor returned to town. She needed to be in full residence at his place, not ping-ponging between two addresses. It surprised him how much he looked forward to seeing her clothes in his closet. Her books on his bookcase. He liked knowing there would be physical proof she was ensconced in his life.

  He certainly didn’t mind having Danica there at the end of every day. He’d never lived with anyone before—it had never made practical sense—but the longer he spent with Danica, the more the situation appealed to him. Already he could sense his house, purchased for its investment value, becoming a home. A place where he wanted to be, rather than a building in which to store items and sleep. Things were falling into place, neatly and orderly.

  Except one. He couldn’t tell if Danica wanted to move in as much as he wanted her to. The fisted knot in his stomach tightened. After the lunch with his parents, she had been quiet. Too quiet. He knew it had been a bad idea. But he’d calculated the risk and took it anyway. He’d figured the odds were in his favor, because she had a way of making even the most onerous obligations seem achievable and fun.

  Then his parents had had to behave like, well, his parents. As long as he lived, he would always be grateful—and knocked off his feet—that Danica had stood up to them. No, strike that. She’d stood up for him. She’d gone toe to toe with the Demon Czarina of Bay Area society and the passive-aggressive charm offensive that was his father—and won.

  Luke fought his own battles. He had ever since he could remember. He enjoyed it. He relished the strategy, the countermeasures, the surprise attacks. He thought fifteen steps ahead and eighteen months into the future. By the time his opponents gathered to attack, he had moved onto the next battlefield.

  It was unsettling to have a champion. Unsettling, but triggering an almost painful warmth that swelled inside his chest.

  He pulled the truck in front of a small, nondescript house. A chain link fence surrounded a patchy yard, littered with children’s toys. Danica ran down the front path to meet him. Raising an eyebrow, he indicated the plastic dump trucks and naked baby dolls. “Something I don’t know?”

  “My roommate occasionally babysits to make extra money,” she said, after accepting a kiss. “She has a good job as a pediatric nurse, but costs have skyrocketed the last few years.” The front door opened directly into the living room, and she ushered Luke inside. The late afternoon sunshine barely pierced through the curtains lining the windows and did little to dispel the shadows. Still, he could see the room was well kept, even if most of the furniture had seen better days. Several cardboard boxes were stacked neatly against a wall.

  “You didn’t tell me you shared a house,” he said.

  “When I moved here, I didn’t realize how expensive it is to live in the Bay Area. I was lucky Mai needed someone to rent her spare room and we hit it off. It worked out well. So, um...” Danica played with the bracelet on her wrist. “Thanks for coming over. But I was happy to call movers.”

  She was being tentative. Just like she’d been after the lunch with his parents. “Glad to help. Besides, I keep missing my trainer appointments. Someone, not naming names, keeps me occupied in bed in the early morning.”

  She laughed, and he relaxed. Maybe it was just nerves. They were legally married, but living together was a big step.

  It didn’t take long to load Danica’s possessions from the front room. Mai owned most of the furniture, so it remained with the house. He frowned after they placed the last box inside the truck.

  “What about the bedroom?” he asked. The ever-present spark when he was near Danica ignited even though now was not the time. No doubt the bed was stripped of its sheets and pillows. Too bad, because he couldn’t think of a better way to recuperate from a short afternoon of moving medium-size boxes than by snuggling un
der the covers. And by snuggling, he meant hearing her breathily scream his name at least two or three times before burying himself in her warm depth.

  “Um.” Danica suddenly couldn’t meet his gaze. “Everything I’m taking is in these boxes.”

  “In case you’ve forgotten, you’re moving in with me today.”

  “What do you think you loaded into the truck?”

  “A partial load.”

  Her eyes darkened. “We agreed I would live with you as your wife. I’m doing that. The sooner we get to your place, the sooner I can unpack.”

  Logically, she was right. He didn’t care. It smacked of the false reassurances his parents would give him whenever a stepparent moved in or out. Oh, they’re just moving some unwanted things elsewhere, don’t worry. Or, You can leave a few toys here, but maybe take the rest to your mom’s house. What do you say? Just for now. It was never “just for now.” It was always forever.

  “Where’s your bedroom?”

  “Down the left hallway. Why?”

  He picked up an empty box and strode off.

  “Oh, no, you don’t.” Danica caught up to him just as he reached what had to be her room. Here the heavy curtains were tied back to let in golden sunshine that accentuated the cheerful profusion of bright colors and floral prints. Artwork decorated the walls, and photos were crowded next to books on the shelves.

  He thrust the box at her. “Get packing.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Stop being ridiculous. I’m keeping some of my things here, that’s all.”

  “Why?”

  Her gaze wouldn’t meet his. “I honestly didn’t think you would mind.”

  He did. More than he thought possible. “Not answering my question. Why—”