Temporary Wife (Episode 3)

by Rossi St. James

  Temporary

  Wife

  Episode Three

  ROSSI ST. JAMES

  COPYRIGHT 2015 ROSSI ST JAMES

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher or author. If you are reading this book and you have not purchased it or received an advanced copy directly from the author, this book has been pirated.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or, if an actual place, are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  DEDICATION

  To fans of hopeless romantic comedies from the late nineties – this one’s for you!

  Rossi

  OTHER BOOKS BY ROSSI ST JAMES

  Biker Stepbrother 1

  Biker Stepbrother 2

  Biker Stepbrother 3

  CRAVED (By the Alpha Billionaire #1

  CLAIMED (By the Alpha Billionaire #2)

  CHERISHED (By the Alpha Billionaire #3)

  STEP SCANDAL 1, 2, 3

  TEMPORARY WIFE - Episode One

  TEMPORARY WIFE – Episode 3

  Sign Up Below!

  Subscribe to Rossi’s mailing list to be the first to hear of new releases, special sales, and contests!

  DESCRIPTION

  So I’m wearing a beautiful diamond ring on loan, and there’s this gorgeous billionaire who keeps referring to me as “Mrs. Avery” who kind of makes my stomach do somersaults whenever he comes around.

  But it’s all fun and games until the attraction hits us both like a ton of bricks. It’s all fun and games until the groom gives a speech at his wedding that indicates he might still be in love with me. And it’s all fun and games until my fake husband and I consider consummating our fake marriage.

  The biggest question though? What happens after my carriage turns into a pumpkin at midnight Saturday night? When I’m no longer his temporary wife? What happens then?

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  ONE - ODESSA

  TWO - LINCOLN

  THREE - ODESSA

  FOUR - LINCOLN

  FIVE - ODESSA

  SIX - LINCOLN

  SEVEN - ODESSA

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  PREVIEW – CRAVED by the ALPHA BILLIONAIRE

  ONE - ODESSA

  “When were you going to tell me?” My arms were crossed and my foot tapped the hotel carpet beneath my tired feet as Lincoln stood in front of my room.

  “Tell you what?”

  “Don’t play dumb.” An annoyed breath escaped my lips. “About Charlotte. Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

  “Is this our first fight as a married couple?”

  “And you knew I was going to her wedding and you didn’t say anything!” My voice raised a notch higher than it should have, surprising both of us. I knew deep down I had no right to get mad, at least in theory. We weren’t really married.

  “I didn’t think it would matter to you.” He stepped into my room, shutting the door behind him. “You’re overreacting, Odessa. Please. Let’s not make this into a big thing.”

  “But you lied.”

  “I didn’t lie.” He drew in a sharp breath. “Maybe I omitted some pertinent information, but I didn’t lie. I’m not a liar.”

  I paced backwards, falling onto the edge of the bed in a frustrated heap. “Why didn’t you tell me? I mean, I was gossiping about Charlotte to you on the plane, and you didn’t say a single word.”

  “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he said. “You didn’t exactly paint her in the best light, and I didn’t know how to tell you I used to date her.”

  “But you proposed this whole fake marriage thing after you knew I was going to be attending your ex’s wedding. The same wedding you, too, are attending,” I said, staring up at him and hating how dangerously sexy he looked as he loosened his tie and whipped it off in one fluid move. I suddenly remembered he’d just come from dinner with Charlotte. Why was he wearing a suit and tie? Did he take her somewhere fancy? It wasn’t enough that Charlotte got to marry the man of my dreams, she had her almond shaped, gel-manicured nails dug hard into the heart of my fake husband too. I swallowed my irrational jealousy like a bitter, jagged pill and silently chastised myself for caring. “You’re still in love with her.”

  It was all starting to make sense. That was the only explanation. Why else would this dashing, handsome billionaire want to fake a marriage with me? I knew there had to be something in it for him.

  “I suppose you could say our situations have many…parallels,” he said with a bittersweet smile. He drew in another long sigh and took a seat next to me. He smelled so fucking good I could’ve pounced on him right then and there if I wasn’t so upset.

  “So you wanted to use me to get back at her?” I asked for clarification.

  “Not much different from what you were doing with Derek,” he said. “You’re no saint either, Odessa.”

  “Oh, I know I’m not a saint. But I’m not self-serving either. And here I thought you were just a kind stranger.” I glanced down at the canary diamond on my finger, and I smirked at how ridiculously big it was. And then I laughed at the absurdity of our situation. All of it. I’d officially reached an all time desperate low. One for the books. The kind of story you couldn’t even make up if you tried. “Where’d you get this thing anyway?”

  “It’s on loan,” he said, laughing. “A friend of mine owns a jewelry shop on Michigan Avenue. I have to give it back Sunday.”

  “I really am Cinderella.”

  “I’m sorry I’m not your Prince Charming.”

  I turned to him, suddenly feeling bad for lashing out on him the way I did. I could’ve been nicer. “You never claimed to be.”

  “Then I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Charlotte,” he said, his brows rising as if to silently ask me to forgive him. “There’s nothing sexy about a billionaire on his way to watch the woman he once loved marry someone else.”

  “You were trying to be sexy on the plane?”

  “Did it work?”

  “A little.” I winked, inadvertently leaning in closer to him.

  “When I saw how similar our situations were, I thought we could help each other,” he said. He slipped his hands behind his head and lowered himself back onto the bed, kicking off his shoes. “I see how that makes me an asshole, Odessa. And it was never my intention. This weekend is going to be hard for me too. I just thought if I showed up with a pretty girl on my arm, might make the hard parts not as hard.”

  “You think I’m pretty?” Never mind everything else he said. My ears honed in on that one word. The one I hadn’t heard in forever because I was too wrapped up in work to care about going on dates. I’d forgotten how good one superficial word like that could make a girl feel.

  “God,” he said incredulously, sitting up and resting on his elbow as he leaned toward me. “You’re fucking stunning.”

  His words tickled my stomach and made it impossible for me to stay mad at him for much longer.

  “You’re just saying that.” My cheeks warmed as I batted his words away, though secretly I longed to him them again. It wasn’t everyday that a ridiculously attractive billionaire loaned me a diamond ring and told me how hot I was.

  “Stop being so insecure, Odessa.” That wasn’t what I wanted to hear. His tone darkened. “It’s rather tiring.” He sat up and raked his hand through his hair. “You want
to know the difference between women like you and women like Charlotte?”

  I nodded, unable to speak as I was still in shock by his sudden moodshift.

  “Charlotte owns her power,” he said. “She knows she’s beautiful. She doesn’t shrink down or hide or apologize for it. She’s not afraid of life. She’s not afraid to get hurt or put herself out there. She’s not afraid to take what’s hers. She sees what she wants, and she goes for it.”

  I stared down into my hands, picking off my nail polish before drawing my legs up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. “Wow, Lincoln. Um…”

  “My point,” he said, “is that you are everything she is and probably even more. Act like it. You need to get your shit together, Odessa.”

  My brows furrowed as I snapped around to lock eyes with him. “My shit is together. I’m a very successful, college educated, indepdent woman.”

  “All you’ve done since I’ve met you is talk about how much better you are than Charlotte, but when I give you a compliment, it’s like you don’t know what the hell to do with it.”

  He had a point. It was sharp. And it hurt. But he was right. “No one’s ever pointed that out before. I guess I didn’t realize I did that.”

  “Do me a favor,” he said, scooting closer to me. I inhaled a lungful of his musky cologne, letting myself drown in it for a moment before realizing our lips were suddenly inches apart. “When you walk into that rehearsal dinner on my arm tomorrow night-”

  “We’re going together?” I cut him off.

  “Yes,” he said. “Now as I was saying. When you walk into that rehearsal dinner on my arm tomorrow night, all eyes are going to be on us. And every couple in that room are going to wish they were us. I can do my part. Can you do yours?”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’ll try.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not good enough, Odessa. You’re a beautiful woman. You’re smart. And sexy as hell. You deserve to be with me. And I know I’m worthy of a woman like you.”

  Lincoln wore his arrogance like a well-tailored shirt, and I was quite certain he was the only man on earth who could make it look sexy.

  “Derek and Charlotte might be happy without us,” he said. “And there’s nothing we can do about it. But for our sakes, we’re going to prove to them that we can be happy without them.”

  TWO – LINCOLN

  “Look at you.” Odessa opened her door and stood before me, a vision of refined midnight as sparkles played off the skintight black dress that hugged her hourglass frame.

  “You like?” she asked, eyebrows raised. “Wait. No. Forget I said that. I know you like. I can see it all over that face of yours.”

  I hadn’t meant to be so harsh on her earlier, but God, someone needed to tell her to pull her head out of her curvy little ass and own her power.

  “I had another dress picked out, but it didn’t seem right,” she said. “After what you said, I went out and bought this one.” She spun around in front of the mirror by the bathroom sink, standing on her toes. She tugged up on the bust of her dress as her abundance of cleavage spilled over. Leaning over her sink, she picked up a tube of lipstick and slicked a coat of crimson over her full lips, rubbing them together and capping the tube when she finished. Her long hair spilled in soft waves down her back, pinned back with a shimmering clip on one side. She looked like a goddamned vintage Hollywood movie starlet. “You going to say something or you just going to keep standing there with your jaw on the floor?”

  That’s what I was talking about. I wiped the drool from the corner of my mouth and offered a smile. It took all the strength I had not to rip the dress off her and kiss her. I had to remind myself she wasn’t my wife. Not my real wife anyway. But damn, was she going to look good playing the part that night.

  “You ready?” I asked.

  She stepped into a pair of red-bottomed black heels, bracing her hand on my shoulder for balance. “Aren’t you going to kiss me? Isn’t that the proper thing for a husband to do in these types of situations?”

  I leaned in, inhaling her soft, floral perfume and grazing her cheeks with my lips. “You look beautiful, Mrs. Avery.”

  She grabbed a black satin clutch from the counter by the sink and headed toward the door. “What are you standing there for? We’re going to be late.”

  I laughed, still unable to take my eyes off her. Oh, yes. She’s going to play the part well.

  Maybe too well.

  THREE – ODESSA

  Lincoln’s driver dropped us off in front of First Presbyterian Church in downtown Chicago. I climbed out of the car and smoothed my hand over my desk, my heart beating wildly in my ears. Apparently Lincoln was an usher in their wedding, but I was just glad I didn’t have to go to these things alone.

  “You okay?” he asked, coming up from behind me and slipping his hand in mine. Our fingers threaded together as if it were the most natural thing in the world for them to do. “Deep breath.”

  “Psh. I’m fine,” I lied. “How about you? You’re looking a little green around the gills.”

  “I think my grandma uses that expression,” he teased. He squeezed my hand and pulled me closer to him as he marched toward the church doors.

  Lincoln pulled the church door open and motioned for me to go in. The sweeping cathedral and stained glass windows should’ve caught my attention first. Instead, Charlotte was standing there, chatting with two girls who looked an awful lot like her. She stopped, mid-sentence, and turned her attention toward us.

  “Linc?” she said, her brows furrowing as her plastic smile stayed permanently placed on her pink lips. “You and Odessa know each other?”

  Lincoln squeezed my hand tight. “We know each other well. She’s my wife.”

  His words weren’t cutting or vindictive. They were happy and sweet and kind. And proud. I thought I’d feel used. I didn’t. He leaned over and kissed my cheek, pulling me into him, and I could’ve sworn I felt him breathe me in.

  Two seconds of jealousy flashed over Charlotte’s face before it returned to its former spray-tanned glory. “I-I just didn’t know you were married. When did you get married?”

  “A couple weeks ago?” he scrunched his brow as he looked at me. “It all happened so fast. Met this girl and couldn’t let her get away.”

  Tension in the air so think I could drink it lingered between them. I got the feeling there was much more to their story that I didn’t know about, and a part of me didn’t want to know. I liked the bliss of not knowing. I liked pretending he was mine and he always had been.

  Her sister stood behind her, their arms folded as they stared at Lincoln with scrutinizing faces and pinched noses. They were little doppelgangers of Charlotte, and I had to stifle a laugh at that realization.

  “Odessa, did you get your dress? Everything fit okay? Not too tight?” Just like that, Charlotte snapped back into cordial bride mode. It was eerie how she could turn her emotions off and on like a switch.

  “I did. Thank you. Yes, everything fits perfectly.” I offered a cordial smile in return, ignoring her jab at my curves.

  “Where would you like us?” Lincoln asked, looking past her shoulder and into the cathedral area.

  “Maureen!” Charlotte called out sweetly. “Maureen’s the wedding planner. This is her show. I’m just playing the part of the blushing bride.”

  Derek sauntered up out of nowhere, and I wondered how long he’d been standing there watching the dog and pony show. “Hey, everyone. Thanks for coming.”

  “Hi, Derek,” I said. “This is my husband, Lincoln.”

  I slipped my arm behind Lincoln’s lower back and rested my other arm against his abs, suddenly realizing how ripped they were even through his thin, white dress shirt. My heart paced. If he wanted to consummate our fake marriage later that night, I probably wouldn’t have any objections.

  Derek examined Lincoln the way a father would inspect his daughter’s first date. And then he smiled and extended his hand. He genuinely
looked happy for me, which was a far cry from the way we’d left things after lunch the day before. “Nice to meet you, Lincoln. Thanks for coming.”

  Derek shoved his hand in his pocket and rocked back and forth on his dress shoes, his gaze shifting back and forth between us.

  “D, should we go find Maureen?” Charlotte asked, slipping under his arm and gazing up at him through her fake lashes. “Dinner reservations are in an hour, so we need to get started with the rehearsal.”

  They walked away, her sisters following like little minions, and left us alone in by the church doors.

  “That wasn’t so hard,” I said, slipping away from him. He probably wanted space. For a split second there, it felt real.

  I expected him to comment on the way Charlotte seemed slightly jealous or how bothered Derek seemed, but he said nothing of the sort. He simply grabbed my hand once again and slipped his fingers through it. If he was hurting at all, he did a damn good job of showing it.

  We found the rest of the party gathered around a woman barking orders and telling everyone how it was going to go, and Lincoln took a seat in a front pew as the wedding party practiced walking down the aisle in order.

  The entire time, I could feel his eyes burning into me. They should’ve been on her. On Charlotte. And I should’ve been watching Derek. Instead, I stole glances where I could. He looked so damn fine sitting there in the front row, hunched over with his elbows on his knees as he stared up at me. I offered him a smile when our eyes met, and he returned it. His smile was real enough to ignite the butterflies in my stomach and send a tingle to my core all at the same time.

  It’s all in your head, Odessa. Don’t read into it.