The Faithful One: Billionaire Bride Pact Romance

by Checketts, Cami

  “More of an escape.” He smiled that devastating smile again and it was all Trin could do to not sigh dreamily. “I’m doing some triathlons in the area and training for the Ironman in Australia the first week in December. My training takes up most of my time.”

  Trin’s eyes widened. A full grown man who spent most of his time training for a race? As she worked most days from sunup until she dropped into bed, that bugged her a little bit. She didn’t need a training plan to stay in shape. She could put him to work on the grounds and he’d have all the exercise he needed.

  Maybe she should just make him a sign that read, Non-Contributing Member of Society, and hang it on his forehead. Okay, that was mean and judgmental. He seemed nice, she’d had that impression when he did The Bachelor and tried to let the girls down easily. She remembered the relief, like a boulder being taken off her shoulders when he had chosen a finalist but then later came out and explained that they were not a couple. Which was silly because she didn’t know him. She knew and loved his dad, but she’d never met Zander before today.

  Moriah brought a tray of lemonade and her Snickerdoodles. Darn her. Trin could never eat only one.

  Zander took a cookie and a glass of lemonade, thanking Moriah and giving her that trademark smile. Moriah’s dark eyes lit up and she ducked her head in a completely uncharacteristic Moriah move. Normally, she’d be batting her long eyelashes and swiveling her hips. “My pleasure, sir. I hope they tantalize your tasting buds.”

  Trin rolled her eyes at Moriah’s blatant flirtations. She broke a piece of a cookie and placed it on her tongue, savoring the spicy cinnamon, rich butter, and sugar. Yum. “They’re fabulous as always, Moriah.”

  “Thank ya kindly, ma’am.”

  Trin shot her a warning look. Moriah’s throaty laughter rang through the room. Trin swatted at her behind as she walked away.

  “You seem to have a good relationship with your employees,” Zander said.

  Trin raised an eyebrow. “They’re my friends.”

  Zander took a long swallow of his lemonade. “Then you’re even luckier.”

  Trin wondered at the longing note in his voice. The famous Zander Keller probably had women vying for his attention every second of the day. Surely, he didn’t need friends. No, everybody needed friends. Maybe he wanted a real friend, not just someone who wanted his body. But who wouldn’t want his body? Darn, she needed to think professional thoughts and stop checking out the striations in his arms.

  “What do you do for work, Mr. Hunley?” There she went again, being judgmental and trying to box him into a corner.

  “Please, call me Jason.”

  She pursed her lips. “All right.”

  He stood and walked around the room, checking out the white mantle above the fireplace framed with bookshelves and then looking through the French doors out at the wrap-around porch and sweeping lawn. Trin loved all the windows in the house, even though they were drafty when the temperature dropped, but for the most part they had great weather so the windows just embraced the sunlight and made her happy.

  “I feel like I’ve stepped back into the 19th century. I love how you preserved the authentic feel of that era yet everything is fresh and clean-looking.”

  “Why do you assume I did it?”

  He shrugged. “It just feels like … this is your house.”

  She glanced away from him. “It was my grandparent’s home. My mother inherited it, but sold it to the current owner, Mr. Keller, after they died. I was already basically managing the house and Mr. Keller,” Your dad, she wanted to say, “was generous enough to keep me on staff. Helping me finish my degree and allowing me to continue to manage the house that has been in my family for generations.” Talk about an info dump. Why did she need to tell him all of that?

  He looked sharply at her. “I don’t know that it’s generosity when you’re obviously doing a great job of taking care of the place and keeping it rented. The reviews I read were all glowing.”

  “Thank you. Mr. Keller has been a blessing for me. He spared no expense refurbishing the home and grounds.” She’d been able to be part of the details and it made her so happy—from refurbishing the wood floors to painting the white trim—her house was perfect.

  “How long has the home been in your family?”

  She didn’t remind him that it wasn’t in her family anymore, it was in his. She rarely remembered that fact herself. “It was built in 1860 by my great-great-great …” She half-laughed. “I can never remember how many greats.”

  “So right before the war?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Spoken like a true southern child.” He smirked. “So you grew up here?”

  “No, sir.” She smiled, liking teasing with him, but then her smile slipped quickly as she thought of her childhood. “We lived here until I was five then my daddy died, my mom remarried, and we moved to my stepdad’s home in Wisconsin.”

  “When did you end up back here?”

  “I graduated from high school and immediately came back here to be with my nana and papa.” No need to tell him her stepdad had given her enough money for a bus ticket and told her good luck being an adult. “Went to Huntingdon College just down the street and helped take care of the house. But Nana had a stroke and passed away my senior year and Papa died a few weeks later.” She smiled wistfully. “He couldn’t live without her.”

  She glanced up at Zander. His face had tightened and his blue eyes were cool.

  She cleared her throat, guess he didn’t want the romance story. “My mom didn’t want to deal with running the bed and breakfast, even though I promised her I could do it. My stepdad just wanted the money, so they sold it.” Again on the telling him too much and he was lying to her about who he was. A sickening thought washed over her—Mr. Keller didn’t trust her and had sent his son in to check on her. Then a worse thought came—Mr. Keller was going to sell the house and had sent his son in to figure out if it would be profitable. She wanted to call Zander out right here and now, but would that force his hand?

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Zander’s gaze wandered out the windows to the expansive yard and oak trees shading everything. She had one spot at the back of the property for her garden, but everything else was nice and tree-covered.

  “It’s a beautiful place.”

  “Thank you. I’m grateful to be here. Don’t know what I’d do without it.” Now, that was a fabulous idea. Lay on the guilt. They couldn’t sell her home. Maybe she’d still have a job if they did, but there were no guarantees, and nobody would be as good of a boss as Mr. Keller. He gave her the freedom to run her house the way she liked and she almost felt it was still hers, as if her grandma would walk out of the kitchen any moment or her grandpa would poke his head in the front door and have Trin snitch him a cookie.

  Mr. Keller had sunk a ton of money into the place with renovations, but she knew they were in the black now. Was it making enough money for him to justify those renovations or was he just wanting to sell and be done with such a small property?

  She forced herself to smile at Zander. No reason to make him suspicious. “We should get you checked into your room.”

  Zander stood, taking the hint, holding aloft half of his cookie. “I only took one because I know about southern hospitality and didn’t want to offend anybody, but you were right, these are fabulous.”

  “I always get after her when she bakes those.”

  “I try not to eat sugar, but there must be exceptions.”

  Trin eyed him warily. “I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t eat sugar.”

  Zander chuckled. The warmth and depth of it washed over Trin. She had to resist fanning her face. Darn southern heat, right? It wasn’t him that was heating her up. But it was November and the high today was only seventy. She couldn’t really blame the environment for the flush to her skin.

  “I’m eating it right now.” He took another bite of the cookie and a crumble of cinnamon sugar clung to the side of his lip. �
��Does that mean you can trust me?”

  “You’re wearing it right now.” Trin reached up and brushed the crumble from his lip. Her fingers seemed to linger of their own accord. His lips and beard were much softer than they looked.

  His eyes flashed up to meet hers. She swallowed hard and dropped her hand.

  “Thank you,” he murmured.

  Trin nodded and spun on her heel. Her heels clicked merrily on the tile floor. He followed her to the grand staircase and they walked side by side up it. He ran his hand along the oak banister. “Wow. I just keep feeling like I’m stuck in Gone with the Wind.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “That show terrified me. I’m waiting for Scarlett to sweep down the stairs and tell me off.”

  Trin laughed. “I’m scared of spiders,” she commiserated.

  “And you live in the south?”

  “I know, dumb, right?”

  “I’ll kill all your spiders if you keep Scarlett away from me.”

  They reached the landing and Zander extended his hand. Trin shook his hand, loving the feel of his strong fingers surrounding hers. “Deal.” She pulled her hand back, lest she forget she had a lot of reasons to be wary of this good-looking, lying man. “Women scare you?”

  “No, just harpies.”

  Trin had a flashback to him being on The Bachelor. He had gotten rid of any snarky or demanding women as quickly as possible. He’d ended up with some real sweethearts, but they still hadn’t made the cut. She would love to ask him about it sometime. If he ever owned up to who he was.

  “I’ll keep the harpies away.” She smiled at him and pointed to her right. “Just down this hall, sir.”

  “Oh, no, not you too. Everybody in the south calls me, sir, and I have to look around for my dad.”

  Trin understood thinking only older people should be called sir and ma’am, but she saw an opportunity and pounced. What if she was one of the harpies she’d just promised to keep him away from? She thought how to phrase the question, but settled for, “Are you close to your dad?”

  He nodded quickly. “He’s good to me.”

  They reached the Sunny Suite.

  “So, this is me?” Zander asked. He leaned against the door and Trin was reminded all over again why women thought he was such a heartthrob. The casual elegance. The perfectly sculpted facial features. The nicely-formed muscles that were large enough to be noticeable, but not bulky. He was obviously quite the athlete. She sighed and then caught herself.

  “Yep.” Producing the key, she turned it in the lock, swung the door open, and handed him the key.

  His fingers clasped around hers with the key between them. “No key cards at the Cloverdale Mansion?”

  “No, sir.” Her house was old school and she liked it.

  He smiled and released her hand. Trin took in a quick breath, reeling from his touch and the look in his eyes. He still hadn’t turned from staring at her to look into the room. It was one of her favorites—spacious and sunlit. He should probably check it out and stop checking out her.

  “Are you pleased with your accommodations, sir?”

  Zander cast a quick glance around the huge suite with large windows overlooking the rear lawn and gardens, a sitting area, huge bathroom with the original claw-foot tub and a brand new glass-enclosed shower, the four-poster bed that wasn’t original, but was period specific. He refocused quickly on Trin’s face. “It’s exquisitely beautiful.”

  She blushed and cursed whatever ancestor had made it so she didn’t have beautiful dark skin like Moriah. “Thank you,” she muttered. “Please let any of us know if you need anything. There are refreshments available in the dining room at all times. Breakfast is from seven to ten a.m.”

  She turned quickly and started back down the hall.

  Movement behind her made her turn. Zander was leaning against the doorframe again, simply watching her go. She tripped on the rug, but quickly righted herself.

  “Are you all right?” Zander’s footsteps catching up to her made her increase her pace.

  “Fine.” She held up a hand and almost ran to the stairs. She needed to get away from his penetrating stares and casually leaning body, and figure out how she was going to save her home.

  Chapter 3

  Chapter

  Zander sprawled out on the bed. It was comfy. He was impressed that he’d made it off the airplane in Montgomery and all the way here, with memories shadowing every step, and he was only slightly itching to open the small fridge in his suite and see if it was stocked with alcohol. Standing, he hurried to the fridge before reason could stop him. He wouldn’t drink any of the alcohol, he just needed to know what he was up against. Popping the door open, he sagged with relief. Bottles of water, fruit juice, and lemonade. Had his dad requested those refreshments in his fridge or was it standard to not stock alcohol at the Cloverdale?

  He lay back down on the bed and checked his phone for swimming pools in the area. He should have been thinking about training schedules for the next week and how he was going to get the sugar from that delicious cookie out of his system. Always a sucker for peer pressure, he didn’t know how to turn those ladies down when they offered the cookie. He was feeling a little sick, but his thoughts were full of the beautiful manager of this little bed and breakfast. She was tall and lean, but not like the working out at the gym kind of lean. She was the lifting, working, and cleaning kind of lean. He loved her hair, a red so dark it was like the rich, cherry wood of the cabinets in his Midtown condo. She had a straight nose, full lips, kind of a Julia Roberts’ look, and eyes that were a deep brown you could get lost in.

  He stood and chastised himself. He was here to monitor this bed and breakfast, but he had no clue why. Was his father wanting to sell it? Zander had only been here an hour, but he liked the feel of the place, the employees he’d met, and the spaces he’d seen were obviously well-cared for. He thought about Trin and how her mom had sold this place out of her family. It made him hurt for her. She seemed to think of the house as almost a relative and it was probably her link to the grandparents she’d loved.

  He’d never met someone so bonded to their home. Most of his associations were with athletes who traveled similar circuits and they were all focused on training for the next race. Trin was focused on caring for this place and her two employees. Admirable.

  Zander had no connection to a place like that, not anymore. He was glad his dad had hired Trin to run this home that meant so much to her. If his dad was wanting to sell he’d have to insist they put in a clause that the manager stayed on staff. But what if those people decided to sell?

  He shook his head. He was getting way ahead of himself. There was no telling if his dad wanted to sell or why he’d sent Zander here. He loved his dad, but the man enjoyed giving his son puzzles and letting him solve them. There would be no information coming if he tried to press his dad. He would have to play this out.

  One other thing was bugging him. There’d been something in Trin’s eyes. An indication that she knew exactly who he was. He glanced in the mirror. The longer, highlighted hair and beard must not be working. Then he remembered. He’d had similar length facial hair on The Bachelor. Had she watched that horrid show? If she knew who he was, why didn’t she say anything?

  He pulled out his razor kit and decided to change his look. He smiled to himself. It might be a little late. He was halfway through shaving when he realized, he hadn’t smiled this much in a long, long time.

  * * *

  Zander finished shaving and thought he’d go find Trin. He was supposed to be shadowing her, right? Well, his dad hadn’t exactly said shadow, but something like that. He hoped this version of Undercover Boss had cool rewards for the employees at the end like the real show, because right now he’d probably gift Trin the house her ancestors built. He wondered if his dad would approve. Not if he was planning to put it on the market.

  He quietly made his way through the house, almost tiptoeing down the stairs
. He shouldn’t sneak up on Trin, but it would be fun if he could hear what she was thinking.

  Making his way through the large living area and then the stately dining room with a table that would seat twenty, he heard voices in the kitchen. Perfect.

  He moved as quietly as he could to the door and stood, almost holding his breath. He realized he was smiling, again. What was it about this house, this woman, that made him smile? Not that he was miserable in general, but having seared his pleasure centers for so long with alcohol and marijuana, life seemed pretty dull. Sobriety was not really exciting.

  He did enjoy training, competing, interacting with fellow athletes and his employees, and helping his dad when he asked, but he didn’t have a lot of reasons to just … smile.

  He pressed his ear a little closer and could hear Trin and the other employee, was it Mary? No, it was something more exotic. Moriah. That was it. The dark-skinned girl was a beauty, but she looked about eighteen. Trin was the one that appealed to Zander. He hadn’t cared much about women, or really anything, for quite a while. The Bachelor had left a bad taste in his mouth. Why any woman would want to chase after an alcoholic just because he was rich was beyond him. It was kind of nice that Trin didn’t know who he was. Well, maybe she didn’t.

  “He’s a handsome devil, that’s for sure,” Moriah said.

  “Can’t argue that,” Trin responded.

  Zander grinned again.

  “But why is he lying to us?”

  Zander about fell over. How did she know he was lying to her? Had she guessed who he was? He leaned closer to the door. It swung inward and he sprawled into the kitchen. Jumping to his feet, he was sure his face was beet red. The two women had flour-covered hands, aprons on, and eyes wide with surprise.

  Moriah held a lump of dough in her hand. She waved it at him. “Mr … Hunley. Are you all right?”