The Billionaire's Runaway Fiancé (Invested in Love)

by Jenna Bayley-Burke

  Her brows knit together. “The raise and the car said that. Dinner wasn’t necessary. Lovely, but—”

  “We work very well together. I’d like for us to do more of that.”

  “Are you promoting me?”

  “Absolutely.” He reached into his pocket, gripping the blue box in his fist. He shouldn’t be nervous. This was business.

  “But I’m not qualified to be a project manager.” She shifted in her seat, her lips twisting. “I learn quickly, and with a little mentoring I—”

  Curtis cleared his throat as he set the ring box on the table between them and opened it to face her. “I was thinking of another position.”

  “Glory be to Christmas trees, what is that?” She clutched her throat and leaned back as if the ring might bite her.

  “An engagement ring.”

  Her mouth moved, but no words came out as expressions raced across her face. Surprise, elation, distrust, anger, hope.

  She reached out and shut the ring box with a snap. “It’s time for me to wake up from this dream.” She stood, grabbing her purse from the floor.

  “Robyn, wait.” He snatched up the ring box and followed her as she nearly ran out of the dining room, catching her just before she made it out the door and spinning her to face him.

  A riot of color swirled on her face. The intense green of her glassy eyes, hot pink on her cheeks, a deeper rouge on her full lips, the rich brown of her hair spilling over her shoulders.

  “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I’m out.” She spat the words like bullets.

  “This isn’t a game. Come sit, and I’ll explain everything. I want to be completely honest in what I expect.”

  Her mouth twisted wryly. “This whole day has been about playing me. It’s cruel, Curtis. You can’t put someone’s emotions in a blender like this and then…then…”

  “I need you.”

  She didn’t say a word, just tilted her head and stared at him like an exquisite work of art, or a marksman looking for the perfect place to deliver a bullet for maximum pain.

  “I know it’s not the fairy tale you want, but I need you.”

  “You need me to make your office run smoothly, not to be your wife.”

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “I have no idea what to think.”

  “The paparazzi tonight explained it in ways words never could. Until they see me as settled in a relationship, they’ll take every dinner, every outing where a woman is involved, as a possible social affair. If the world thinks we’re engaged, life would be considerably easier for me. But it wouldn’t be just for me. You’ll have everything you’ve ever dreamed of. I’m in a position to take care of you completely.”

  “I don’t want your money.”

  “That’s one of the reasons why I want you.”

  I want you. The words hung in the air between them. Robyn’s eyes fluttered closed, and he knew he was almost there.

  “It won’t be forever. A year at the high end, and you’ll be free to live your life with security enough to do as you please. Start a business, travel, go back to school.” Something sharp twisted in his chest at the thought of Robyn not being in his life. They’d remain friends, he’d make sure of it. “I can give you what you need, anything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

  “I know,” she whispered, leaning forward until her forehead rested on his shoulder.

  Chapter Four

  With the last gasp of his energy, Curtis pushed his bags inside and closed the front door. Exhausted didn’t begin to cover it. He wanted to sleep for days, but he had to be back in the office in four hours. After a week of crisscrossing the country, trying to salvage the over-budget tram project in Portland and the stalled Chicago high-rise, the last thing he needed upon coming home was to wake up Mrs. Rutledge.

  He loved her, but she’d left messages saying they needed to have a chat once he got home, and he didn’t care to. She was either going to retire or grill him about the engagement announcement, and he didn’t want to deal with either scenario until he had a full night’s sleep.

  “Are you hungry?”

  He jumped at the sound of her voice behind him. Of course she would have waited up. She worried about him beyond comprehension, which was why she’d elected herself his housekeeper long before he could afford one.

  “I’ll make you a sandwich. Come into the kitchen.”

  With a grin on his face, he shook his head and followed her, flicking on the light. The Mexican tile and hanging copper pots gave the room a warm feel, the bright colors livening the space. The decorator had balked when he’d instructed her to let Mrs. Rutledge choose everything. Now he was glad he hadn’t resorted to the granite and stainless that twit had suggested.

  Curtis tugged the knot of his tie until it loosened. “I can make my own sandwich. You should get some rest.”

  “Don’t be silly.” She bustled about the room in her lavender robe, gathering what he would need. From the refrigerator, she pulled out a turkey sandwich, already cut on the diagonal and garnished with a bunch of grapes.

  “I see you’ve baited the trap. If I’m about to be lectured, that requires cake.” He pulled off his tie and unfastened his cufflinks, rolling up his sleeves.

  With a huff of exasperation, she procured a slice of cheesecake. His eyes widened. That did not bode well. He’d never had a lecture that required cheesecake before. Lemon or chocolate, sure, but cheesecake?

  “Are you retiring?” He turned away so he wouldn’t have to watch her answer, taking a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water.

  “No, why? Does Robyn want to run the house herself?”

  “Robyn?” He sat at a barstool, pulling the sandwich to him.

  “Your fiancée. Robyn Tindall. That sweet girl who’s been pining after you for months. You never gave her any notice, then you bring her to dinner at your parents’ house and announce your engaged. You’ve been away on business ever since. You have never traveled this much in one month, Jason. You’re not getting on another plane until you explain what is going on.” Her lips compressed into a tight line, and she folded her arms across her chest.

  He tunneled his fingers through his hair, wondering if he could trust her with the truth. Probably, but she wouldn’t approve of that, either.

  “Jason, this is not a good idea.”

  “You like her. You never like anyone I’m seeing.” He bit into the sandwich, trying not to think how different this reaction was from his parents’. They’d been wide-eyed and caught off guard, but the idea of a wedding in the future had been enough to keep his mother at bay. His father had declared Robyn perfect marriage material but warned him not to let his personal life encroach on work.

  “Do you love her, or are you taking advantage of the poor thing?”

  “Poor thing? Robyn can take care of herself.” Wasn’t she supposed to be worried Robyn might be taking advantage of him?

  “Not where you’re concerned. Jason, you don’t hear the way she talks about you.”

  “She’s not starry-eyed. She knows exactly who I am.” His heart stalled as their eyes met. Robyn might know everything there was to know about Curtis Frye, but he’d never mentioned Jason Curtis. Junior or Senior. Damn.

  He knew she’d agreed to the charade only as a favor, not because of money or influence. But would she be like the only woman he’d told, who found the first excuse to end things when she learned he wasn’t truly a Frye, but the son of a man in prison for murder?

  “Of course Robyn knows you. She runs your life.” Unfolding her arms, she linked her hands together in front of her robe. “I don’t understand what prompted this. The two of you weren’t dating.”

  “I’ll admit, it was a fast decision. But we know each other very well, and I’ve always thought very highly of her.”

  Irritation flashed in her gray eyes. “Don’t start lying to me now, Jason. We’ve always been honest with each other.”

  “If you’ll calm down for
a minute, I’ll explain.”

  Mrs. Rutledge stuffed her hands into the pockets of her robe. “I don’t think I’m going to like what you have to say.”

  He rolled his eyes. “It’s a convenient publicity arrangement.”

  She lowered her head, shaking it slowly. Her disappointment wrapped around his throat even with the counter separating them.

  “Robyn agreed. She’ll be compensated generously.”

  She glanced up, her eyes looking as if they could pierce shards of ice into him. “There isn’t enough money in the world to mend a broken heart, Jason.”

  The image of Robyn crying in his office flashed in his mind. “I won’t hurt her. That’s not what this is about. We’re simply giving the media a different follow-up story for the ‘Ten to Watch’ piece. One so boring and happy they’ll lose interest and no one will go sifting through the garbage of my past.”

  “All of that has nothing to do with Robyn. Why put her through this?”

  “I trust Robyn. Would you rather I chose some parasite with no intention of holding up her end of the bargain? Someone who’d sell the story anyway?”

  “I’d rather you chose someone you love, instead of someone who loves you and will be heartbroken when you end the game.”

  “She is not in love with me. Wealth is a powerful aphrodisiac. Once she has her own money, she won’t care what happens to me.” Tension edged into his shoulders at the thought.

  “Who are you trying to fool here, Jason? This scheme of yours will not work without someone getting hurt, and I don’t want to see that happen to either of you. Why risk it?”

  It hadn’t felt like a risk. An emotion he didn’t recognize niggled at the center of his chest. He frowned, his certainty of the plan deflated. “I promise, I won’t hurt her.”

  “You proposed and left town, leaving her to deal with your mother alone. I’ve been running interference, but Camille wants a wedding date. The least you could do is make up a story about wanting to take her to an island somewhere and elope.”

  Curtis blinked. “You already knew it was a front, didn’t you?” He grabbed for the cheesecake. He’d earned it.

  Mrs. Rutledge chuffed, shaking her head. “It’s a front all right, but not for what you think.”

  His mouth full of cheesecake, he couldn’t ask what she meant before she’d turned and left the kitchen.

  …

  “Soon, Mom. You’ll meet him soon.” Robyn nestled the phone between her neck and shoulder, shuffling the photos on her desk.

  “Baby, when your sisters got engaged they—”

  “Mom, they were both younger than me when they got married, and living at home. Besides, Curtis isn’t the ask-permission type.” And it wasn’t that kind of engagement. For Curtis, it was a business arrangement, but in time, she might bring him around to see things her way.

  If she hadn’t agreed to his scheme, his determination might have sent him fiancée shopping, and watching a gold digger take advantage of the situation did not sit right. She’d made him consider her by working hard and being indispensable to him. Now, she had better access to show him how things could be if he let himself feel something for her. It was the only hope she had to be more to him than an employee. He’d love her. Someday.

  “How did things go with his parents?”

  “Good, I think. His mom wants to help choose the gown, and she had some advice for how I should dress after the wedding.” The outfits were already helping her feel more like his wife than his secretary.

  “She told you what to wear?”

  In the most fluidly manipulative way possible, without a hint of rudeness. “Curtis says she does it for everyone in the family. She likes them to look a certain way.”

  “I repeat, she told you what to wear? And he let her?”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “At the time, it seemed helpful.”

  “Is he a mama’s boy?”

  “No, Mom.” Not even close. His housekeeper seemed to know him better than his parents. The family was polite and cordial, but not hang-out-in-your-pajamas casual like hers. There was a lot of love there, but it was consolidated, coordinated to match the situation. “It’s not like that. He appreciates all the opportunities they gave him, so he tries to go along with what they want.”

  “Why?”

  Robyn shifted in her seat. “He was adopted.”

  “So?”

  His other siblings weren’t. Of course, since she and her sisters were adopted, her mother wouldn’t appreciate that Curtis saw a difference between biological and adopted children. And she agreed—so she couldn’t even argue his side.

  “Having his mother select a designer wardrobe for me isn’t really something to get upset about.”

  “Hold on, honey. His mother is buying your clothes? Dressing you like her doll? What kind of Stepford operation is this?” Her mother’s fingernails clicked in the background.

  “It’s fine, Mom. His sisters have gorgeous clothes. I’d love to have their hand-me-downs.” Heck, she’d love to fit into their hand-me-downs. She stifled the sigh. She hadn’t had a blended coffee since Curtis’s proposition. Or a single one of Carmella’s pastries. “Curtis said asking to handle my wardrobe is a sign of acceptance.” Best to leave out the part where she’d been scheduled at the family hairdresser and makeup artist for wedding consultations.

  “His mother still dresses her children? Good gracious, you all refused to shop with me once you were out of elementary school.”

  “She’s amazing at it. She was a designer before she had kids.”

  “Please be careful. You don’t have to change anything to make them like you. Curtis loves you because of who you are.”

  If only. “I’m fine, Mom.” She plucked the property listing for the private island in the middle of Lake Shastina from the top of the pile of papers. “I need you to turn down the mama bear and turn up the brilliant real estate guru. I called about Sapphire Isle.”

  “For the wedding? Getting everyone there would be a logistics nightmare. They have only the one dock.”

  If only there were an actual wedding to plan. He thought the focus on his personal life would blur within a few months of the engagement announcement and disappear entirely in a year. There would be a long engagement, but no wedding. Much cleaner legally, and she couldn’t stand the idea of being divorced from him. “Golden is looking for existing resort properties.”

  “It’s a private estate, Robyn. The island is just three square miles. I doubt that would be of interest to a corporation as large as Golden City. They want huge lots of land to build up and out. Not to mention it took years to build because it can’t be accessed by land. Everything has to be barged over.”

  “Actually, they want privacy. Sapphire Isle has that. Is the listing on your website current?” Curtis kept vetoing proposals from the rest of the staff. She’d heard all his rejections of properties and thought she had a lead on what he wanted.

  “The listing is current, but the house is outdated. Everything is operational, but the buyer would likely want a total renovation to bring it into this century. We show it a few times a year, rent it out even less.”

  “When can we see it?” After Mr. Dodson, the old gold miner, passed on, there had been no one to take care of the house. A distant relative had hired her parents to sell it a decade ago.

  “Sapphire Isle? Are you looking for someplace to honeymoon? You really should try something more exotic.”

  Honeymoon. Only if she got really lucky. Getting Curtis to notice she was more than an assistant would be a slow process. Especially since she’d seen him twice in the last month, and one of those times was to sign his ridiculous relationship contract. New Orleans needed his attention more than his quasi-relationship, chiefly because his PR guru was creating a fairytale engagement for all the world to see. She smiled, remembering how he’d said he trusted her to handle the publicity, but there was no one to trust with his projects in Louisiana. It had come with a kiss. On
the forehead, but still.

  “Curtis wants privacy, and with the flight restrictions over Lake Shastina since it’s at the base of Mount Shasta, Sapphire Isle is perfect.” Not to mention she might be able to coax him into letting her work on the project with him. Transforming the estate into a private resort fit his plans. And since her parents had held the listing for so long, Robyn had dreamed of ways to redo it for years. Getting her ideas on paper should speed up the process and leave them time to figure things out. In bed. If at all possible.

  “I’ll fax over the rental agreement this afternoon.” Papers rustled in the background.

  “No, Mom. Curtis wants to buy Sapphire Isle.”

  Banging and bumping clanged in her ear. She pulled the phone away and smiled.

  “Sorry. I dropped the phone. I thought you said Curtis wants to buy Sapphire Isle.” The property her parents had been trying to sell for the better part of a decade.

  “If he agrees, we’ll need to rush escrow.” The scream on the other end of the line made her laugh out loud. She listened to her mother yell the sale across the office.

  The phone clicked in her ear. “Not so fast, babe.” Her father’s voice came across the line. “When do we get to meet this boy?”

  …

  “So, what do you think?” Her green eyes sparkled with excitement, her fingertips tapping the edge of his desk.

  Curtis blinked, forcing his gaze back to the file she’d presented to him. He’d been doing that all day, looking at her instead of concentrating on work. It was a good thing he’d be headed to Denver in two days. Ever since she’d agreed to the relationship charade, he’d been preoccupied with what she did, how she moved.

  After his conversation with Mrs. Rutledge, he couldn’t forget her warnings that Robyn was in love with him. That alone should be reason enough for him to call off the ploy, but instead, it made him study her even closer. He couldn’t afford this kind of distraction permanently.

  “I think it fits what you are looking for,” Robyn began, twisting her hands in front of her. Good thing the desk was between them. If not, he might reach out and calm the movement. “The privacy and exclusivity of a deluxe resort with the comfort and intimacy of a bed-and-breakfast. The perfect compromise for someone with too much money who wants to be catered to and left alone.”