“Exactly what do you have in mind?”
Liam reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a business card he’d gotten from his trust fund manager.
“BMB?” David raised an eyebrow.
“Billionaire Marriage Brokers.”
“You’re out of your mind.”
“A side effect from the tumor, I’m sure.”
David glared at the table. “So what, you buy a wife? Isn’t that human trafficking?”
“Hire. I would hire a wife uniquely chosen for me.”
“Uniquely chosen by whom?”
Liam picked up a kreple. It looked like a donut. “Pamela Jones.”
David licked icing off his thumb. “Is this prostitution? Do I need to call Mom?”
“Ha ha. No. There’s no hanky-panky. It’s in the contract.” Besides the fact that the drugs I’m on make that impossible … For that reason alone, he’d been happy to sign up for a business marriage—any marriage. The fact that Pamela could find him a wife who could also be his nurse was a benefit. David was a great brother and buddy, and Ella was an excellent personal secretary, but neither of them knew the first thing about medicine.
According to his doctor-issued time line, Liam had three months left. That was great on paper, but Liam suspected the doctor had been overly optimistic. He couldn’t explain his premonition, just that he knew if he was going to find a bride, now was the time.
Liam wanted to be married before he died. He wanted to know what it was like to have someone to belong to, and if that meant going through Billionaire Marriage Brokers, then that’s what he would do.
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The Masquerading Groom
The Masquerading Groom
By Taylor Hart
Chapter 1
As the sun crested over the Tetons, the water went from a dull brown to a clear blue. The little waves sparkled where the light touched the lake. Squeezing her eyes together for a moment, Sayla pushed away thoughts of that night over a year ago. Of the car crash and her husband’s warm hand no longer squeezing back as she waited for the paramedics. It had all been her fault. She should have died with Rob.
Narrowing her eyes, Sayla thought of the news from the doctor yesterday. She needed a surgery. Exploratory surgery to see what all the pain was in her lower stomach.
She let out a light laugh and wondered why it hadn’t surprised her, not really. She’d finally saved enough for the trip she and Rob had always talked about, and then she finds out she might die. She still hadn’t decided if she should even take the trip. It was either the trip or surgery. She could only afford one.
Part of her believed the surgery was a sign she didn’t deserve to still be alive.
“Excuse me.”
Jolted from her quiet grief, Sayla turned toward the marina.
The man was dressed in khakis, the Eddie Bauer kind of khakis, a ridiculous fishing hat with flies hanging all over it, a bright red flannel shirt, and brand-spanking-new hiking boots. The guy could have been a model in a Lands’ End magazine. “Do you work at the marina?” He took a few steps toward her while gesturing back to the shop.
Oh, yes, of course, the tourist needed some worms or something for his first fishing expedition. Looking around, she wondered if Henry would be coming to meet model guy. Henry, her boss and also the owner of the marina, liked to take the early bookings out fishing. She rushed past him, pulling her keys out. “What supplies do you need? Or are you just waiting for Henry?”
Giving her a hard stare, the man cocked an eyebrow. He shook his head and pulled out an envelope. “No, I …” He hesitated briefly before pressing on. “I was in here yesterday. I took the morning tour with Henry, and I couldn’t quit thinking about you all day.”
He was hitting on her? Letting out a long breath, she turned away from him and pushed into the store, letting the screen door slam into place behind her. Even though she tried hard not to be noticed, inevitably there was always some guy who wanted to take his chances with the redhead in the marina. It was one of the reasons she always kept her hair under a hat. Plus, being so close to the water made it frizzier than normal. She didn’t want to be noticed. She hadn’t dated since Rob died, and she didn’t plan to start now.
“Sorry, I’m in a relationship.” The easy lie.
The guy followed her into the store.
She flipped on the lights and immediately went to the cash register. There was no automated computer system. Henry liked it that way. She pushed the 1970’s power button on the cash register.
“You’re in a relationship?”
There was something unbelieving in his voice that made Sayla turn around and give him a second look. “So hard to imagine?” She couldn’t help her challenging tone. Sure, she’d lied. She wasn’t in a relationship, but normally, it was a conversation stopper. Most of the time the guys bought something and slinked away. Well, it wasn’t exactly slinking when the rustic wood screen door clunked into place. The point was they went away.
Except this one wasn’t leaving.
Letting out a breath, he lifted his hand, and Sayla noticed the thick, white envelope. “Listen, I know you aren’t in a relationship because Henry told me you aren’t.”
“He told you?” This, she didn’t believe because Henry always put on his growly-faced glare when a man lingered around the cash register with any sign he might ask her out. “Now I know you’re lying.”
The man flashed a smile, and she thought his teeth were too white. The glowing kind of white that didn’t look natural. He put up his hand. “Listen, I’m not interested. I …” He cut off and rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. He shook his head. “Gah, I …” he turned around and walked a few steps to the door. “This was a stupid idea.”
Now her interest was piqued. “What did Henry say?”
The man stopped then, and with an exasperated look, turned back. He spread his hands, holding out the envelope. “I told Henry about the movie star I work for and how I needed to find him a date for tonight.” He lifted and lowered his shoulder. “What can I say? It’s complicated, but he can’t show up without a date. When I told Henry I was offering ten grand in cash, he said you might be interested.”
“In being a hired escort?” Her heart raced, and she couldn’t believe Henry would even suggest such a thing. “No thanks.”
The man’s lip tugged up. “It’s not like that. Listen, Henry said refusal would be your first reaction, but he also mentioned you kind of needed the money for something other than the trip too and this might be a perfect solution for you—ten grand for three hours.”
She shook her head no.
“Look, it’s not that kind of date. It’s purely innocent. It’s a masquerade ball going on at Harold Swenson’s ranch outside of town. I had someone lined up to fly in from L.A. and go with him, but she cancelled yesterday. Henry said it might be something you’d … enjoy.” The last word hung in the air, like he wasn’t sure if the word might be a bomb that could go off at any second. “It won’t be out of control press. They’re having one photographer to take tactful pictures of everyone attending, but no one will be doing write-ups on the couples or anything. Harold wants all the exposure for himself.” The man flashed a grin. “You’ll be the mysterious redhead Sterling Pennington showed up with. Then you’ll disappear.”
That was a lot to take in. Sayla tried to digest the idea of Henry encouraging this crazy scheme. Calmly, she put both her hands palm down on the cash register to get her bearings. She had told Henry about the surgery yesterday. Under duress. After he’d pestered her on and off all day and finally insisted he know what the doctor had said. She’d had to tell him about the doctor in the first place because she’d had bouts of pain in her lower abdomen that had forced her to take sick days. She’d been unable to get out of bed during her period. For being such a bear most of the time, Henry truly turned into a mother bear when it came to her health.
Growing up as a foster k
id, she didn’t know if she liked the coddling or not. Henry hadn’t really given her a choice though. He’d even made the doctor appointment for her and told her she better show up or she was fired and kicked out of the cabin she rented from him.
Ugh. Now he was “solving” the problem. It peeved her. She could handle it on her own. “No.”
The model man let out a loud breath that whistled through his teeth. “Shoot, I was hoping this would be simple and we could get down to the nuts and bolts of planning it all.” He looked her up and down. “I have a team of people waiting to spray tan, shampoo and style, and fit you with a nice dress. You’ll look stunning.”
Sayla crossed her arms and flashed a wicked smile. Who did Henry think he was? A hired date? Her? No. No. No.
Just then, the screen bell chimed as Henry walked through. He wasn’t wearing his usual growling expression. “I see you’ve met Caleb.” The kind of face he gave her when he showed the big fish he’d captured that day stared back at her. He pulled off his fishing hat. Very unlike the hat of the absurd man standing in front of her, Henry’s hat was worn and had actual fishing ties he used almost every day during the summer.
Ignoring his pleasure, she shook her head and imagined little darts shooting from her eyes into painful stabs in his shoulder. “No way,” she said.
Henry frowned. “For Pete’s sake, Sayla, you have a gift horse staring you in the face.”
“No.” She insisted.
“You won’t let me pay for it. This is only three hours. You won’t even be seen by anyone. Then you can have the surgery and take the trip.”
She sputtered, still unable to believe Henry wanted her to do this insane thing. “What are you talking about? I’m not going to be some hired date.”
Henry pushed past Caleb and put both of his meaty hands down in front of her. She could smell a light fish scent accompanied by the Old Spice aftershave he wore. It wasn’t pleasant, but she was used to it. “Listen here, I know there is part of you that wants to simply take the trip and forget about the rest. Let your health go. But I won’t let it. You’re not taking the trip unless you get this surgery first. If I have to sit on you until the doc gets in there and gets a good look at you, that’s what I’ll do.” His eyes glassed over with emotion. “I’ll not lose you, ya hear?”
Taken aback at the passion in Henry’s eyes, hers immediately moistened, and she blinked. She thought of the picture Henry kept next to the cash register of him and his wife on a cruise in Alaska. A last testament to the love he had for his wife.
More emotion began going from her chest and into her throat. He cared. That meant more to her than she would admit. It was ridiculous, to entertain the idea she would do this, but the determination in Henry’s eyes told her if she didn’t get the money for this surgery, he would pay for it and wouldn’t take no for an answer. There was no way she’d let Henry pay for it. And she couldn’t give up on her trip. It was all she had since losing Rob. It was the something to live for she needed. The dream of it was the only thing keeping her going, giving her any kind of purpose.
“Fine,” she said quietly, still staring into Henry’s eyes. “Fine, I’ll go on the stupid blind date with a famous, egocentric movie star. Happy?”
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The Protective Warrior Page 16