The Pretend Fiancé - Billionaire - Part 1 (Troubled Heart of the Billionaire)

by Sierra Rose

  “You know what, let me take care of that for you,” he said with a half smile. No way was his girlfriend—fake or not—riding the public bus around Phoenix, “and no more dollar store flip flops for you.”

  “These came from Old Navy. They have this sale once a year—”

  “No sales, Bella. You’ll have to maintain a certain image that is an extension of my own. For my girlfriend or fiancée to wear cheap plastic shoes—that makes me look like a cheapskate. A shitty boyfriend.”

  “I would never expect my boyfriend to pay my bills and buy my shoes.”

  “No, you wouldn’t. But the people in my circle would, and my stockholders would certainly judge me unfavorably if you’re running around Phoenix dressed like you can’t afford a coffee. Your job now instead of cleaning, is to go get yourself a designer purse and a grande at Starbucks and walk around the shops. Have a nice lunch. Buy something you like just because you like it. Act like a woman who has a new lover and nothing to worry about.”

  “Oh,” she said, getting to her feet, arranging the pillows and beginning to make the bed.

  “You don’t have to do that anymore,” he said with a half smile, “you have people to do that for you. Go for a swim or sleep late. Greta will call you about your appointment to go shopping.”

  He was surprised by the surge of sheer delight he experienced at the ability to spoil her. Here was a girl used to taking care of herself. It was a rare treat for him to get to pamper her. He was used to dating women who expected exotic trips and expensive jewels. Women who were impossible to impress. Not Bella. She wasn’t like anyone else he’d ever met.

  Chapter 11

  Bella had been for a leisurely swim, had a shower and wandered to the kitchen for breakfast. Greta had given her a two pm appointment with the shopper and PR had left her a message that there was a reservation at a hot new pop-up club uptown where the pair could be spotted out and about. It was nine in the morning and she had no clue what to do with herself. She wasn’t used to not working. She ate a yogurt and fruit and decided to head down to the stables. When she got there, Mariel practically tackled her, jumping up and down with excitement.

  “Babe, you were holding out on me. That is one sweet ride you got there!”

  “Uh—um, what?”

  “I got the vibe with you and Harvey, but it wasn’t until I saw that car that I knew he was serious. I’ve seen him walk out about two dozen girls out of this house in my time but I never saw him move one in, and right in style!”

  “Car?”

  “No. Do not tell me you haven’t seen it! Come on. Right now. Out front. Move!” She chivvied Bella ahead of her to the horseshoe drive in front of the Spanish style villa. Parked right in front of the fountain was a gleaming late model Corvette convertible in glossy candy apple red.

  Her jaw dropped.

  Bella approached it in disbelief, sure it must be someone else’s, some rich visitor. As she reached it, she saw an envelope taped to the steering wheel, her name scrawled across it. She reached in and opened it. The keys fell out in her hand and a note that read, My girl doesn’t take the bus. –Harvey

  She squealed. An honest to God, high-pitched, my-middle-school-volleyball-team-is-going-to-state-tourney squeal. The kind that went with ponytails and braces and poor lip gloss choices. She practically tore the door open and then paused, halfway in the car as if frozen.

  “What’s wrong?” demanded Mariel.

  “Nobody has ever done anything this nice for me.”

  “Enjoy the moment. It’s yours.”

  “I’ve never sat in a new car before. I haven’t. I have my license but I haven’t used it, not since high school when the payday loans came due and my dad’s car got repo’d.”

  “So it’s time to drive. I call shotgun!” Mariel jumped into the car, right in the open window of the convertible.

  “Hey, keep your boots on the paper. I don’t want horse shit on my floor mats,” Bella joked. Mariel laughed, pulled off her boots and tossed them out of the car onto the driveway.

  “Let’s go!”

  Bella’s phone rang, the work cell she was supposed to keep with her. Harvey’s face appeared on screen, and she hastened to smooth her hair, realizing she was being Facetimed, not just called.

  “So do you like your new ride?” he said archly.

  “Love it!” she said, “I’m just shocked. I never expected you to get me an actual car! I mean, it’s beautiful and perfect and everything I ever dreamed of, it’s just…so totally different from my real life.”

  “This is your real life now. Now that you’re with me,” he said.

  “You’re too sweet. Can I keep you?” she laughed.

  “Like in a cage? Nah, I don’t think so. But if we’re talking handcuffs, we’ll talk more later. Ah, wait. Scratch that. Those terms aren’t in our deal. And I promised to be a perfect gentleman.”

  She chuckled. “Well, you didn’t exactly sign on the dotted line.”

  “But I’m a man of my word. So enough talking to me. Go for a ride!”

  “Thank you, babe,” she said, reminding herself to use the endearment in front of Mariel. “I’ll thank you, you know, properly when you get home.”

  “Don’t forget your shopping appointment.”

  “Like any woman can forget that!”

  “Have fun. I can’t wait to see you in that car. I’d planned to be there when it was delivered, but I had to take a meeting.”

  “I can’t thank you enough!”

  “It’s my pleasure. Get used to being spoiled.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Just go have fun.”

  “I will. You’re the best boss, uh, boyfriend ever! I’m gonna take this baby out for a spin. Have a great day. I’ll see you soon.”

  “See you later.”

  “Bye,” she said sunnily and turned the key in the ignition.

  Mariel whistled under her breath as Bella slid the sleek convertible into gear and drove away, “This car is incredible. Do you realize it is like seventy thousand dollars? I used to have posters up in my room of this car when I was a kid.”

  “I would have to work for two years straight and never spend a dime just to afford the car and the tax, not even liability insurance or gas or anything else.”

  “Which is why it’s good to have a rich boyfriend, right?”

  “You know that’s not why I’m with him, right? I mean, yes it’s great that he’s generous and sweet like this, but I like him for himself. How funny he is and how smart and how kind.”

  “Of course, you do. I was joking. Of all the people I’ve seen him with, all the girls who’ve come and gone out of here, you’re the first one I’ve seen that didn’t come with dollar signs in her eyes. It’s pretty obvious you felt damn lucky to have a job here. You didn’t come to Arizona to land a rich guy.”

  “Thank you. I mean, I know that, but it bothers me if it looks like it was the other way around, like I came here to dig for gold.”

  “Just drive and enjoy the view,” Mariel said. “The mountains and the desert and all this speed.”

  She floored the gas and they drove at an ungodly speed as the wind blew through their hair.

  “How does it feel?” her friend asked.

  “Pretty amazing. This car practically drives itself. It’s so powerful and smooth.”

  “Ooh, tell him that tonight,” Mariel teased, “guys love words like powerful!”

  They drove through and got lattes and joked about not spilling in the new car, but both of them were really careful not to make a mess, all jokes aside. Both women knew how rare it was to have something so nice and so new, and neither wanted to mess it up at all. They only went back to the house because Mariel had stalls to clean out and Bella had to go shopping. She found herself in a department store dressing room with a patient, glamorous woman who had a tape measure.

  When Greta showed up for moral support, Bella grinned. Greta helped her choose things she liked t
hat the shopper approved of. They giggled together over how hot Harvey was (“Even my boyfriend admits my boss is hot,” Greta told her). In no time, Bella was ready for her close-up. She had never shopped this way before, and she found out she loved being fussed over and flattered, and given pretty things to try on without worrying about the cost, as long as she had Greta to stick up for her when something crazy was in play—like the fringe vest the shopper tried to insist on. When Bella left, a hefty garment bag of tops, jeans and dresses were ready to be sent to the mansion for her as soon as the shopper found shoes and accessories to suit each pairing.

  Dazzled, Bella drove back to the compound and took a bubble bath and shaved her legs. This was already so fun!

  Chapter 12

  The woman who came down the Spanish tile stairway dressed for an evening out was light years away from the wholesome, sweet Arkansas girl he’d made a deal with. This woman had on four-inch stilettos, a pair of jeans that hugged every curve, and a sparkly top that showed more skin than it covered. Her long honey-blond hair spilled over her shoulders and down her back in soft waves. She had the come-hither eyes of a siren. He swallowed hard, his mouth feeling dry. He wanted to put his hands on her body, to push that shirt up this instant and lick his way down her stomach. He could see a sliver of her stomach, pale, probably freckled. He should warn her about sunblock because Arizona could wreck that perfect skin. He wondered where else she had freckles and found he couldn’t string two words together to compliment her appearance.

  She looked like an angel from heaven.

  “How do I look?” Bella asked him, her eyes glittering mischievously. He opened his mouth to speak but instead of flattering words about how incredibly sexy and delicious she looked, all he managed was a growl. She giggled lightly, a sound that knifed through him with a jolt of desire.

  Harvey raked a hand through his sandy hair and pushed up his sleeves, keeping his hands busy so he would keep them to himself. He had an obligation to make this public appearance, to clean up his image for the sake of his career. So carrying her back up to his bed and keeping her there for the next twelve hours or so wasn’t a practical option. He was feeling incredibly impractical just now. The tension sizzled between them as he struggled to remember how to talk.

  “You’re stunning,” he said.

  “Thank you. And you look very handsome,” she grinned.

  “Shall we?” He offered Bella his arm but when she took it, slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow, he wanted to back away, to jerk his arm out of her insinuating grip. Because however gentle her touch was, it seared him, sending impossible surges of lust through his body, making it impossible to walk to the car like a normal person. He was by no means inexperienced. Why was this blonde, this girl different? On the surface she was only another attractive female susceptible to his charms, perhaps more homespun, more innocent or more hardworking than his other conquests, but nothing tangible tipped the scale in her favor. But she was different, somehow, and whether Harvey Carlson liked it or not, Bella was getting under his skin.

  The PR executive who was in on the plan advised him to arrive separately, then dance suggestively with Bella in the VIP room, then to get ‘caught’ kissing passionately as they left in different cars. It was a simple enough concept, but the challenge came from not kissing her passionately on the way to the cars first thing. He climbed into a chauffeured car as she drove off in the Corvette, blonde hair flying as she peeled out of the driveway. Just seeing her in it was so hot he couldn’t think straight. Actually, he could think, but the only thing he could think of was laying Bella out on the hood of that car and having his way with her.

  The club was dark and loud, but they had the VIP lounge practically to themselves. No filming or photos were allowed there, but PR had made sure their waitress had clear instructions as to what to video and when to post it on social media. Harvey ordered drinks and they sat close in a booth, sipping from each other’s glasses, sharing tapas and feeding each other playfully.

  “I could get used to this,” Bella said.

  “That’s the plan. Get used to getting spoiled.”

  He softly kissed her lips.

  They talked and danced and laughed.

  He danced with her to the pounding beat of the house mix and kept her body anchored to his hips, her arms in the air, the glitter from her top catching the flashing multicolored lights as she writhed in his grip.

  She gamely climbed up on the little stage in her stilettos and waved those arms and wiggled those hips until he called for her. He lifted her down and kissed her madly. When the time came to depart, they hurried hand in hand down the back stairs, the waitress close behind. Just before opening the door, Harvey plastered Bella against the wall, pinning her hands on either side of her head and dipped his mouth to hers. She parted her lips and he was lost, his tongue in her mouth, his knee pressed between her thighs.

  He could feel the heat from her body, pliant against his, and could sense her arousal. She was panting and breathless when he released her. They opened the door, and he kissed her again just in case there were more photographers planted outside of the club. This time, she clutched the front of his shirt and kissed him back ardently. This was definitely a photo opportunity, he thought, and he expected the Internet to burst into flames from the images.

  They left in separate cars. They slept in separate rooms. Or she slept. He, for one, couldn’t quiet his body or his mind from wanting her. Early in the morning he’d already done an hour in the gym and talked to the PR executive who was ecstatic with the response to the ‘secret kiss’ posts that took social media by storm. Speculation was rampant that he had a new girlfriend and couldn’t keep his hands off her. Tonight they’d make their official couple debut at a charity auction and at the weekend they were scheduled for an impromptu getaway on his yacht. It would give new meaning to whirlwind romance and hopefully, the board of directors would be swept off their feet.

  Harvey soon felt like he was working three jobs: CEO, actor in staged romance, and man, trying not to shag his pretend girlfriend. Because when they’d discussed the arrangement, Bella had used the phrase ‘strictly platonic’ about four times and he’d agreed to it. Just because there was strong chemistry between them didn’t mean he could go back on his word. She said kissing was allowed for appearances, but that was as far as it would go. Still, if she’d quit wearing intentionally alluring things like that little black cocktail dress, the one that was strapless which she wore to the silent auction—it would help his concentration.

  He had to get through a weekend of being with her nonstop off the coast of Mexico without any inappropriate touching—at least none that wasn’t staged for the cameras. How would he survive all this champagne-fueled partying and yachting, and remain a gentleman? The thought of it made him break out in a sweat. He was also going to be in the best shape of his life in no time because he was working off all that sexual tension in the gym—sometimes two, three times a day of circuit training just to take the edge off his lust for Bella.

  Chapter 13

  His private jet was just as unbelievably perfect as everything else she had seen from Harvey Carlson and his lifestyle. Her big, comfortable leather seat reclined and had a cup holder to house her chilled flute of champagne. She watched part of a movie while one of the flight attendants gave her a foot massage. That was actually part of the service on the private jet—one of the stewardesses was a certified massage therapist. So Bella munched peanut M&M’s and watched the latest Bradley Cooper flick while someone called Petra rubbed her feet. It was ironic since this was probably the first time in Bella’s adult life that her feet weren’t tired in the least. She was well rested. She was pampered while her pseudo-boyfriend Skyped with the new office in Jakarta. In Mexico, they deplaned to switch to the helicopter, which then flew them out to his yacht. A yacht big enough that it had a helipad on top.

  “I bet this cost a pretty penny to rent,” she said.

  “No. This
is my boat,” Harvey replied.

  “Wow. I guess after the compound, and the plane, I shouldn’t be surprised but this is crazy. You have completely taken my breath away.”

  It was crazy. Pool with a waterslide on board a ship level crazy. The stateroom was plush and fancy, with a Jacuzzi tub right in the bedroom and an awesome view of the sea. Bella changed into her new bikini and went up to the pool deck where she was supplied with a strawberry margarita before she even had a chance to put on her sunglasses. Sitting down on a lounge chair, she was ready to bask until Harvey put his hand on her leg.

  “Here, you need sunscreen. I’ve been worried about you getting burnt with that fair skin of yours.”

  “Do you make sure every single employee doesn’t get sunburn?”

  “Absolutely.”

  As a waiter walked by, Harvey waved him over, then held up the bottle of sun block. “I care about my employees getting a sunburn. Please put some sunscreen on.”

  Bella laughed as the waiter smirked.

  “I already did, sir.”

  Harvey chuckled. “Then you’re good. Carry on.”

  Bella burst out in more laughter. She was seeing a different side of him, one that wasn’t so stuffy and controlled. It was refreshing.

  With that, he squeezed white cream from the tube and started rubbing it down the length of her arms, along her shoulders and back, around her waist and to her stomach. She shivered under his hands, “I can do that,” she stammered, “thanks.” He seemed to be staring at her legs. She wanted to throw a towel over them, self-conscious that they were so pale.

  When the photographers and PR team suddenly surrounded her, she knew it was time for the fake proposal pictures. She wasn’t sure exactly how they were doing it, but obviously, they didn’t tell her so they could get her genuine surprised expression.

  “Should Harvey start professing his love for me?” Bella asked.

  “No,” said the photographer. “We’re just doing pictures. No video.”