by Lexy Timms
Brant’s heart seemed to have lodged in his throat. “What are you saying?”
This time it was she who shifted, cupped his face in her tiny hands the way she held his entire world. “I’m saying that maybe there’s room for compromise…that maybe not everything is all or nothing.”
Not her hands. The entire world was in her eyes.
Those glorious, beautiful eyes.
He hardly dared to breathe. “So where do we go from here?”
“Somewhere without earthquakes?” She wrapped her arms around him and smiled. The light in her eyes was glorious to see. “Maybe, if you’re not too busy…Carmen can get a priest here in about three hours.”
Epilogue
“This is brilliant,” Gloria gushed as she gazed about her in open admiration, which only went to show what a great actress she was. Half the hotel was still in scaffolding, one full wing was condemned outright, and they still hadn’t cleared away all the rubble from the bit that had collapsed in the earthquake a month ago. “A five-star resort, but still so far in the never-world that the paparazzi don’t bother.”
Mel rolled her eyes. Five-star. Granted, if the place would ever be finished it might be that again someday. Right now The Greens could hardly compete with a Howard Johnsons.
“That’s why we did it here,” Brant said, ever the diplomat. “Just to keep them away.”
Gloria swatted him. “Hush you,” she said. “If you weren’t getting married tomorrow, I’d part your balls with my knee.”
“Careful.” Mel stepped between the two, playfully shoving them further apart. “I’m going to want those later.”
Gloria laughed and kissed Mel’s cheek. “You’re going to be a terrific addition to the family! But don’t let your guard down; keep my pseudo-brother, here, on his toes.”
“Okay,” Mel agreed. “I don’t need those!”
“Hey,” Brant protested, looking from one to the other in mock fright. “I’m right here!”
“I love how his eyes flash when he’s angry,” Trudy murmured, coming up behind Gloria and wrapping her in a hug from behind that left the starlet blushing.
“You used to be nice. Back before Gloria, here, got her hands on you,” Brant muttered, but he wasn’t mad. He’s actually playing. Enjoying himself. So are they.
Now it was Trudy’s turn to blush as Mel laughed with the rest, wondering why she’d ever been afraid of these people.
“Who did you finally get to perform the wedding?” Gloria gave Brant a vicious wink.
“Turns out that in Belize you just have to apply for a license and you’re legally allowed to officiate. Who knew?” Mel said with a shrug. “No training required.”
“You do know I’m a nurse, right?” Carmen groused as she walked by. “I’ve been a hospital administrator, now I’m a wedding…” she muttered something in Spanish. “What the hell do you even call that?”
“Her?” Gloria pointed to Carmen’s retreating back.
“Her,” Brant and Mel said together.
“BRANT!” A sonic boom broke through the little reception. At the garden entrance, a giant with long hair and huge grizzled beard rushed through the crowd and scooped up an amused Brant and lifted him off the ground as though he were a child.
“Oh shit,” Gloria whispered, her drink sliding through nerveless fingers, shattering on the ground. “It can’t be.”
“Was Brant just accepted at Hogwarts?” Trudy whispered.
“Was Hagrid black?” Mel asked dubiously.
“Was Hagrid gay?” Tina asked, leaning in and pointing at the rather pretty man hanging off the giant’s sleeve.
“Billy!” Gloria shouted, and threw herself at the monster. He opened his free arm and caught her, holding them both in his bear-like embrace. He practically roared before setting them both down gently.
“Mel!” Brant called, “This is…”
“Billy?” Mel guessed and clenched for the attack. Only, Billy surprised her by reaching for her hand and holding it gently, old-world style and smiled down… way down at her. There wasn’t so much as a hint of falseness in that smile, and Mel warmed to him instantly.
“Hello, William,” Linda said coolly from behind them.
“Ma’am.” Billy’s smile faltered and he actually bowed a little.
“Any idea?” Trudy asked out of the corner of her mouth.
“I think he used to play American football. I remember his face from somewhere,” Tina said doubtfully. “I used to date someone who liked the…what you call it…the Super Bowl.”
Mel blinked a few times. “I’ll ask tonight.”
“Me, too.”
As the three friends headed off to presumably catch up, Mel found herself surrounded by her own parents and Brant’s mother.
“Wise of you to push the wedding up, my dear.”
“Well, we had to wait until the resort was…at least reopened somewhat,” Mel admitted somewhat doubtfully. “It might have been wiser to wait. I hadn’t expected so many people to come. The whole place was shut down not that long ago.”
“Yes, I know, dear. I had a charming conversation with a rather husky workman who announced himself as the man who took a shot at my son.”
Mel laughed. “No…” She shook her head. “He was shooting at the jaguar that was stalking… okay, that really doesn’t sound much better.”
“Lark?” Her mother took her arm and drew her away from the crowd. They walked through the gardens, unspoiled by earthquakes, a riot of tropical flowers blooming in all directions. She paused there, in a hidden bower, and took her daughter’s hands in her own. “Tell me honestly. Is this really where you want to raise the baby?”
Mel stared at her mother, dumbfounded. “What baby?”
“Please.” Linda waved away her protests. “Mood swings, upset stomach. I noticed you never drank alcohol in L.A., and you’re not now.”
“I don’t drink,” Mel said, blinking in astonishment. “I haven’t since, well, since the accident. How could you not know that?”
“But, Lark, honey, you have to admit you were all over the place emotionally. You changed more than the thermometer does back home during spring thaw.”
Mel thought for a moment. Okay, maybe she’d been a little…unreasonable. That didn’t make one pregnant, though.
She was a doctor. She knew these things.
She sighed. “Look, I guess I was pretty bad there. But I’m not pregnant…” she trailed off, wondering just how many other people had come to this conclusion. And just how crazy had she been acting? “Would you excuse me?” She suddenly had to see Brant. Not that he was hard to find. One only had to find one very large giant and there he was.
Mel hauled him away without so much as an apology to the others. Let them think what they may. Brant laughed and followed her willingly enough, not even questioning when she threw herself into his arms behind a particularly glorious rosebush.
“I’m so sorry, Brant, for how I acted. You didn’t deserve all that drama. Your mother and mine thought I was pregnant I was so out of control. Listen, I know I said this before, but I’m serious. If you still want to do the foundation…”
“No,” Brant said, laughing in protest. “It’s in someone else’s hands now. But if your clinic wants to apply for membership, I think you’d have a better than average chance of being included.” He leaned in, whispering so that his breath tickled her ear. “I know people.”
“Brant! I’m serious!” She batted his arm, but spoiled the effect by laughing.
“So am I!”
Mel shook her head. “Sometimes I don’t even know what to do with you. What’s the name of that foundation anyway?”
“Meadowlark,” Brant whispered against her ear.
Mel stilled.
“You’re serious?”
“Am I ever not?”
“You have your hand under my dress and you’re telling me you’re always serious? Wait…that’s…what do you think you’re doing?”
“If you don’t know, I’m not doing it right.” His fingers slipped beneath silk. Found someplace warm and already very moist.
“There’s a party going on only a few feet away!”
“I’d say there’s a party happening right here…”
Mel twisted. Squirmed. Not really in an effort to get away anymore. “Does all your dialogue have to sound like it comes out of ‘80s romantic comedies?”
“Maybe you’re the one talking too much,” he murmured against her mouth, capturing her lips with a thoroughness that left her gasping for air.
Now it was her hands that were busy. A button sprang off his shirt and got lost in the grass. Neither cared.
Hagrid’s…no…Billy’s laugh boomed from somewhere. Mel was aware that this wasn’t the time or place. She pulled away reluctantly, breathing hard, her carefully pinned hair cascading down around her face. There was a dim awareness that they were supposed to be at the party. Wasn’t that the point of rehearsal dinners? That they rehearse at some point? She opened her mouth to say so, but was silenced by another kiss as he caught her hand and dragged her back to him.
Brant looked at her. Really looked. Her knees melted when he looked at her like that.
A girl could get lost in a look like that.
“So, you’re really not pregnant?” he asked, wrapping her in his arms again.
Mel laughed. “You, too? No, I’m not. Never was.”
Brant reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys to the Jeep. If they left now, they wouldn’t be missed for at least an hour.
A lot could happen in an hour.
Brant leaned down and put his mouth to her ear. “You wanna be?”
THE END
BONUS BOOK – FAKING IT
Copyright 2017 Lexy Timms
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to an actual person, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
All rights reserved.
Faking It
Fake Billionaire Series # 1
Copyright 2017 by Lexy Timms
Cover by: Book Cover by Design
Faking It Description:
He groaned. This was torture. Being trapped in a room with a beautiful woman was just about every man’s fantasy, but he had to remember that this was just pretend.
Allyson Smith has crushed on her boss for years, but never dared to make a move. When she finds herself without a date to her brother’s upcoming wedding, Allyson tells her family one innocent white lie: that she’s been dating her boss. Unfortunately, her boss discovers her lie, and insists on posing as her boyfriend to escort her to the wedding.
Playboy billionaire Dane Prescott always has a new heiress on his arm, but he can’t get his assistant Allyson out of his head. He’s fought his attraction to her, until he gets caught up in her scheme of a fake relationship.
One passionate weekend with the boss has Allyson Smith questioning everything she believes in. Falling for a wealthy playboy like Dane is against the rules, but if she’s just faking it what’s the harm?
Fake Billionaire Series
Faking It
Book 1
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B073X8QYH3
Temporary CEO
Book 2
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B073X9368J
Caught in the Act
Book 3
Amazon: COMING SOON
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Chapter 1
Allyson Smith swung the baseball bat as hard as she could. When it hit the ball, she instantly regretted it. The ball flew through the air, headed right at her boss’s head.
Her eyes widened. She called out to him, but it was no use—it seemed like everything slowed down under the stadium floodlights. The ball inched closer and closer to Dane Prescott’s gorgeous face. That perfect face that had been on the cover of every tabloid in New York City. That face she needed to stay intact if she had any hope of surviving the upcoming weekend from hell.
Her brother’s wedding was this weekend. If there was a chance of getting her meddling family off her back she had to get a convincing photo of her and Dane looking cozy together. Bit tough to look cozy in a photo if your pretend boyfriend’s sporting a black eye, or has blood shooting out of his nose.
“Mr. Prescott, look out!” She raced to him, the heels of her stilettos sinking into the wet grass.
Somehow in her desperation to get her family to back off she had inadvertently let it slip out that she was dating rich, sexy Dane Prescott. Of course, she wasn’t. Dane dated heiresses and aristocrats, not forgettable assistants like her. Her family didn’t know that, so a photo might get them to leave her alone for once. But first, she had to save his face.
Dane ducked. The ball whizzed over his head and he turned to watch it sail off into the distance, lost somewhere in the outfield.
She wobbled unsteadily on her feet, tripped forward, and crashed into him. Panic gripped her at the thought of getting mud on his expensive suit.
He caught her, his huge hands wrapped around her waist, keeping her from dragging him down. “I’ve got you,” he said.
His words sent the strangest thrill through her.
The sensation of his big hands holding her steady made her head swim. They had never touched each other like this before. The closest she and Dane had come to any sort of intimacy had been on those rare days he needed his jacket pressed and she’d helped him take it off.
Dane blinked down at her, his blue eyes hypnotizing and seducing, making her forget they were still on the job. She so often forgot. “You know, first base is that way,” he said, gesturing towards the plate. He smiled that dazzling smile of his, and she practically melted against him.
The hand that was still on her waist burned through the flimsy fabric of her blouse. Whenever he was near Allyson became painfully, heart-stoppingly aware of him. Aware of his towering presence, and that muscular body that he had molded from college hockey and a lifetime in the gym. The CEO of a sports equipment company had to look his best, and Dane was no exception.
There wasn’t a day that he didn’t left her completely breathless. And tonight, in the stadium, she barely dared to breathe.
At the sound of applause a few yards away, he released her to join in the applause. He was clapping. For her. The British executives who had crowded on the grass to watch their little demonstration seemed to approve.
Dane was still smiling as he put his hand on the small of her back to guide her towards the executives.
“That was most impressive, Ms. Smith,” John Handel, the Vice President of Handel and Company, called out as they approached.
“Thank you,” she said.
“A
llyson played softball in high school,” Dane informed the executives. “That’s why she’s got such a great arm.”
She smiled. It was nice of her boss to talk her up, especially since it didn’t happen very often. Not because he didn’t notice her, but because of how demanding their work was. Most days they could barely catch their breath, much less find the time to lay on praise.
Dane motioned the executives towards the line of hired servers who were waiting with refreshments by the empty stands. As the executives scurried across the grass, Dane took her gently by the elbow and lowered his head. That was the sign that one of their private conversations was about to start. This was her chance.
After three years of working as his executive assistant, Allyson knew Dane’s habits better than she knew her own. She leaned in close to him, getting a whiff of his familiar clean, crisp aftershave.
“I think that went well, don’t you?” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his perfectly-tailored gray pants. His gray suit was immaculate, Italian, and cost more than most people made in a week. To Dane Prescott, 33-year-old billionaire CEO of Prescott Global, that was chump change.
“They seem happy,” she breathed, her voice so soft she almost didn’t hear herself. He made her that nervous.
He reached to push back a stray lock of hair that had fallen over her eyes. She trembled at the close contact. Dane was always so obsessed with the smallest detail. He didn’t miss anything.