Fake Marriage with the CEO (A Billionaire Romance)

by Amanda Horton

  I have to win her. I can’t lose her, I can’t. Her mind was still a mystery. He didn’t know what her decision would be. And if she said no... The thought of never seeing her again scared him. Before Wolfe knew it, his phone was in his hand. He dialed.

  “Simms, your report on Miranda Okafor had a name and number of the building owner. Give him a visit. You’re going to make an offer to buy the property.”

  ***

  Miranda sat on her bed, watching the dawn slowly illuminate the New York skyline. But while the sunlight sharpened the New York City buildings, it did not bring her any lucidity. All night long, Wolfe’s offer had played in her head, but she was nowhere near coming to any decision. The practical side of her nature insisted this was the solution to her own dilemma. But a very small reckless part of her was suddenly making its presence felt.

  It had everything to do with Wolfe Hawkins. His proposal was recipe for disaster. She was attracted to his power and his sense of humor, hidden behind the façade of authority. She didn’t even want to dwell on his physical looks. Miranda may have convinced herself that love and its ilk was beyond her grasp, but that didn’t mean immunity from sexual desires. And Wolfe promised to be a sexual fantasy come to life.

  C’mon Miranda. Take the risk. At least the memories will keep you warm when you’re old and completely alone.

  “Shut up.” Shaking her head, Miranda tried to rid herself of the lingering thought. She glanced at the clock. It was still early, but she may as well make a start for work. With any luck, being in her beloved kitchen might help bring clarity to her thoughts.

  Her phone rang.

  “Miranda, this is Mr. Thompson.”

  “It’s so nice to hear from you,” she replied. Mr. Thompson owned the building she wanted to lease. He was enthusiastic about her plans, one of her earliest supporters.

  “I’m not sure you’ll feel that way once you hear what I have to I tell you.”

  She felt sudden fear. “What happened? Have you changed your mind about the building?”

  “No, that’s still on the table. But something strange just happened. I got an offer to buy the building. The offer is very tempting—but I promised you the building would be yours once we signed the contract.”

  Miranda was so taken by surprise she couldn’t say a word.

  Mr. Thompson continued. “The sooner we finalize our transaction, the better. I have to feel that I’m not losing out by passing up on the opportunity to sell. Money like that would help a lot in my old age.”

  “I-I understand, Sir. This is just so sudden.”

  “How are you getting along with that guarantor you mentioned?”

  Miranda swallowed. She knew what she had to do. “I have one. I’m closing the deal with him today.”

  ***

  The trip back to Wolfe’s office was less daunting than the first. Not even the sound of triumph in Wolfe’s voice when he took her call to request an appointment put her off.

  As she stepped into the lobby, she saw him there waiting. His eyes shone like a child given an unexpected treat. “Miranda.”

  Miranda smiled, returning his greeting. Clearly Wolfe hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said that his father’s business meant the world to him. “I’m here to discuss the business agreement we talked about last night.”

  Even though it was Saturday, the office was still very busy. As Wolfe led her through the reception lobby to the elevators at the end of the hallway, Miranda felt speculative looks aimed in her direction. Wolfe placed his hand on her back to guide her, and Miranda was conscious of looks ranging from disapproving to envy sent her way.

  “My secretary, Jenna.” Wolfe waved to a woman who stood at their approach. “Jenna, this is Miss Miranda Okafor. We’re going to be seeing a lot of her.”

  Miranda exchanged a tentative nod with the other woman. She’s beautiful. Every inch of her, from her glossy hair to her faultless manicure and skirt suit displayed cultivated femininity. Miranda was conscious that she’d run straight to Wolfe’s office in casual leggings. What am I doing here? This is a mistake!

  As she stood alone with Wolfe in his office, Miranda’s conscience bothered her. Last night she had the option to say no to an absurd proposal. Today, she needed him. Mr. Thompson’s unexpected call forced her into this. Her dream was fading fast and she couldn’t let that happen. Yet, along with the guilt, she felt something like elation. This was an entirely new world, a world she knew nothing about. She stole a glance at Wolfe.

  Wolfe straightened his tie. He caught her gaze and smiled at her, a crooked smile that implied a cocky confidence. But even as he smiled, his fingers drifted back to his tie.

  Miranda bit her lip. Just how many times had he straightened his tie since she’d arrived? Could he be nervous? “You can still take the offer back, you know. People say I’m a certified lunatic.”

  “You’d have to be to consider my idea. But just between us... I think sanity is overrated.” Wolfe’s eyes sparkled.

  Miranda looked down, fighting the urge to blush. “So… this arrangement, what exactly does it entail?”

  “You will be my secretary. I’ll be your taskmaster,” he said, his voice serious.

  Miranda wheezed, rising from the sofa and scrambling for the door.

  “It’s a joke—joke!” Wolfe cried, throwing out an arm to stop her from leaving.

  Miranda spun around, her expression triumphant. “Gotcha!”

  Wolfe grinned as he dropped onto the sofa motioning for Miranda to join him. “I think we’ll have fun testing each other’s limits.”

  Miranda smiled wondering exactly what these limits entailed. His arm stretched across the back of the sofa, not touching her, and yet she could feel him each time she leaned back. The side of his thigh brushed against hers, bringing disturbing images into her head. She crossed her arms around herself.

  Wolfe frowned, noting her gesture. “You’ll be safe with me. I won’t ask you to do anything you don’t want to or make you uncomfortable. We’ll work on this together to make sure we’re both happy with it.”

  It wasn’t Wolfe’s reactions Miranda was afraid of, but her own. “Will there be a contract? I mean, this is a business agreement after all.”

  Wolfe nodded. “Yes. I’ll ask my lawyer to go through the fine points with you.”

  She looked away.

  Wolfe drew even closer, giving her a waft of his aftershave. “What is it? You have to be honest with me to make this work.”

  “You mentioned that I have to move in with you…”

  “That part is non-negotiable, I’m afraid.” Wolfe’s expression was sympathetic. “I hope you don’t find the idea repulsive, but Mom will expect it. As I said, she’s no fool.”

  Miranda dropped her gaze. “I understand. I agree to moving in...but the marriage part. Can we hold that off as long as we can, please?”

  Wolfe gave her a peculiar look. “Any reason?”

  How to explain her fear of being trapped in a loveless marriage? Someone like Wolfe who had women bending over backwards for him would never understand how it felt to be rejected for not living up to an ideal. “It’s just... I have this fear of lasting relationships.” Miranda winced at the sound of her own voice. The excuse sounded lame, even to her ears. “I know it sounds crazy because it’s just a business arrangement.... But can we pretend an engagement to start with? I’d probably freak out at the wedding and not show up.”

  Wolfe sat silently, deep in thought.

  Miranda waited for his reply. Her palms were clammy. Have I ruined everything? Her refusal of marriage was probably a deal breaker. Suddenly, she was afraid he would call it off.

  “Okay.” Wolfe looked up with a smile that could have knocked her flat. “No marriage for the time being.”

  “Really?” She was so relieved she threw her arms around him.

  Wolfe held her tightly giving her a taste what it was like to be in his arms. It felt good. All her reservations vanished. She drew back a
nd gazed into his eyes. For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. She waited...

  He lowered his eyes and pulled away.

  Embarrassed by her sudden yearning, Miranda stood still, unsure of what had just happened. The knowing expression on Wolfe’s face didn’t help her equilibrium in any way. He knows I wanted him to kiss me.

  Wolfe turned back to her, removing a small box. “Take this.”

  Miranda opened the box. She gasped. Nesting on delicate velvet was an antique style engagement ring in rose gold. It was exquisitely cut and studded with diamonds. She stared at Wolfe in confusion. “Is this—real?”

  He nodded, reaching out to take the ring from the box. “It belonged to my mom. She passed it on to me after Dad died. I’ve had it inside my safe all this time. I thought I’d give it to you now. We’re supposed to be an engaged couple and Mom would swoon at the idea that I’ve finally found someone to give it to, right?” He gestured for her to hold out her hand.

  Unable to breath, Miranda extended her left hand ring finger.

  “Miranda, will you accept this ring as a sign of our agreement?”

  “Yes.” Miranda felt a lump form in her throat. “I’ll take good care of it until it's time to give it back.”

  Chapter Six

  A few weeks later, Miranda found herself inside one of New York’s best salons, staring at her reflection. A beautiful woman stared back. Her ebony hair was piled up on her head, enhancing her neck and sloping shoulders. She wore a strapless gown in a pale shade of coral with a mermaid silhouette. It clung to her body, enhancing her narrow waist and ample breasts. Her makeup was flawless, enhancing the natural beauty of her skin. She looked every inch Wolfe Hawkins’ fiancée.

  Too bad it’s just as fake as our engagement. Today was the day the entire mad scheme came crashing to a halt. Wolfe believed it was time to announce their engagement. He told Miranda he’d arranged a small gathering of family and close friends. Miranda swallowed back a jolt of fear. She’d protested she wasn’t ready, and that she had nothing to wear. Wolfe had whisked her away to this salon. He’d done everything possible to set her mind at ease, but it was no good. I don’t belong in his world... and I never will.

  “Your fiancée has arrived.” The salon staff’s words jarred Miranda out of her thoughts. She stood, grateful that Wolfe had allowed her request to skip high heels this time. She had enough to worry about without the added difficulty of navigating in unwieldy heels.

  As she stepped out of the private room, Wolfe turned toward her, his face lighting up. “You look stunning.” He turned to the employees, standing dumbly in his presence. “Doesn’t my girl look astonishingly beautiful?” He offered Miranda his elbow, escorting her to the waiting car with elaborate courtesy.

  The trip took place in silence. Wolfe gave her an encouraging glance now and then but was occupied with his own thoughts. Miranda was grateful for the chance to steel her nerves to the challenge of mixing with high society, but part of her wondered what he thought. Already regretting his bargain?

  Wolfe turned the BMW through an ornate gate, heading down a winding driveway. “We’re here.”

  Miranda’s eyes widened. Their destination was ahead of them, a country club surrounded by the deep shadows of a well-manicured eighteen-hole golf course. The light of the crescent moon sparkled on the artificial lakes surrounding the buildings. A sprinkling of delicate fairy lights fooled the eye into thinking the moonlight extended to the building itself. It was an awesome view from afar, but as they drew nearer, Miranda’s apprehension increased.

  Wolfe cut the engine and turned to her.

  Her back rested stiffly against the leather upholstery of the BMW. She stared out at the atrium, watching guests pour into the club. This is a simple gathering?

  Wolfe’s hand settled over hers with what felt like an electric shock. “Relax. Breathe.”

  “I feel like Cinderella attending her first ball.”

  “It’s an intimate gathering. You have nothing to worry about.”

  “My idea of intimate doesn’t go past five people. This looks like half of New York City in attendance!” Miranda managed to jerk her gaze away from the crowd to look at Wolfe. “Did you prepare the guest list yourself?”

  Wolfe smiled sheepishly. “I asked Mom to. She doesn’t know the reason why. I forgot that she will take any excuse to throw a party. You’ll like her.”

  Miranda frowned, resisting the urge to run her fingers through her elaborately styled hair. “But will she like me is more the question. She’ll see right through me and know I don’t belong here.”

  “Rubbish. I like you. Shouldn’t that be enough?”

  Miranda exhaled noisily. He likes me? She’d thought she couldn’t be more jittery, but Wolfe’s statement had set off another bout of nerves. How to interpret his statement? Did he like her as a colleague or...? She realized Wolfe sat waiting for her. “Okay, let’s do this.” She climbed out of the car.

  Wolfe offered her his arm. “You sound like you’re going to the dentist instead of a party.”

  As his arm guided her toward the entrance, Miranda felt a rush of gratitude. Surely, with Wolfe supporting her, she couldn’t help but succeed. The thought reminded her of why she was there at all. It’s for the kitchen. Miranda raised her head high. She might not be used to these occasions like the other women in their glittering frocks, but she was damn sure that she could make a better omelet than anyone present!

  Inside, the club was even more stunning. Chandeliers blazed from above, illuminating thick carpets and the modern paintings on the wall. Orchestral strains floated in the air, mixing with the pungent smell of jasmine flowers. Twin staircases flanked the entrance, leading to a mezzanine floor.

  Wolfe guided her past the staircase and into a long gazebo where they were greeted by tables with immaculate linen and elaborate settings.

  An elegantly dressed woman in an embroidered gown came forward as they entered the room. “Wolfe, darling.”

  Wolfe released Miranda, leaning in to kiss the woman on her cheek. “Mom, this is Miranda. Miranda, meet my mom, Mrs. Diane Simpson.”

  The look of surprise on the woman’s face was comical. Obviously, she didn’t expect Wolfe to arrive with a date. “I thought you were bringing someone from the office.” Diane beamed. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Miranda. Pardon my shock. My son is a constant surprise.”

  Miranda forced a smile, murmuring a greeting. Without Wolfe’s touch, she felt extremely out of place among the gathering. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “You mustn’t listen to Wolfe,” Diane said immediately. She elbowed her son playfully. “You should have told me you were bringing such a beautiful date! Come.” She put her arm out to take Miranda’s hand. “Let me show you to our table.”

  Miranda followed. The discovery that Diane shared her son’s humor was welcome. Her spirits soared. Maybe I can pull this off after all.

  As they approached their table, Diane cleared her throat. “This is my husband, Bruce.”

  Miranda schooled her features into a neutral expression. So this is the wicked stepfather. His eyes bulged as he took in Miranda. As he got to his feet, he swayed slightly. An empty glass beside him suggested he’d started the party early.

  Wolfe greeted his stepdad coolly, taking the empty seat at the head of the table. Miranda’s hopes of remaining by his side were dashed as Diane led her to a chair beside Bruce Simpson. Still, this is why we’re here — to make a good impression on his family. Miranda smiled, prepared to make chit-chat with the man.

  Very quickly, Miranda found herself sharing Wolfe’s dislike of the man. He made no attempt to hide his curiosity about her relationship to Wolfe. “So you’re Wolfe’s latest, hmm? I have to admit that he knows how to pick ‘em.” He leered, his eyes dropping to her breasts.

  Miranda fought the urge to slap him. “Actually, we share an interest in philanthropy.”

  “And is that how you met?�
� Diane’s eyes shone. Miranda looked at her face and felt a sudden qualm at the idea of deceiving the woman. She was evidently pleased with the idea that her son had met someone.

  “Yes, actually, it is.” At least that was the truth. Miranda took a deep breath. “I understand you do quite a lot of charitable work yourself. Maybe you can give me some pointers.”

  Diane was evidently delighted, eagerly sharing her experience. Miranda nodded, finding out that the woman possessed all the ease of conversation of her son. Her eyes traveled to Wolfe, engrossed in conversation with a sprightly old woman to his left. From what she could hear of their conversation, Miranda gathered she was the curator at the Guggenheim. They were engaged in lively debate over an art piece. The curator made a snide comment and Wolfe threw back his head in laughter. His eyes met hers and he winked.