by Leigh James
And then I was going to get back to what was really important: running my empire. Alone.
BLAKE
Elena came hustling through the door, her cheeks flushed, as I put the finishing touches on my makeup.
"Are you all packed and ready?" she asked.
I nodded, gesturing to the luggage I'd neatly assembled over the course of the afternoon. Elena had let me have free range over AccomoDating's wardrobe. I'd packed gorgeous designer dresses, skimpy bathing suits, expensive jeans and T-shirts, and of course, lots of sexy lingerie.
I hadn't packed a wedding dress, though. That was the one thing Elena didn't have. Lucas and I were going to have to figure that out.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. I had no idea what sort of women my new client preferred or what his tastes were like. My earlier Internet search of him had come up largely empty, aside from the Globe article. There were items here and there about his technology empire, his latest start-up acquisition, and older photos of his proper-looking parents attending various society events. I’d found lots of pictures of his sister, Serena. She was stunning, with long dark curls and the figure of a Hollywood starlet. She appeared to be a lady who lunched, served on several boards, and attended what seemed to be an endless string of black-tie events.
Elena patted my hand, bringing me back to the present. "The client's added some terms to the contract," she said.
"What?" I asked, immediately suspicious. This close to so much money, I was waiting for the rug to be yanked out from under me—a learned response.
"An additional economic incentive." Elena gave me a reassuring smile.
I didn't want to get my hopes up. "Please tell me what you mean."
"Mr. Ford just told me that if you follow the terms of the contract to the letter for the next year, he'll give you more money."
A nervous flutter went off in my chest. It took me a second, but I finally recognized what the feeling was: hope. "Go on."
"This is big, Blake." Elena's eyes sparkled with excitement. "He said if you pull this off, and the family believes this marriage is real, he'll give you another million dollars at the close of the assignment."
I almost fell over. "Seriously?"
She nodded. "Seriously. You know I don't joke about money."
"Wow… just, wow." Two million dollars. For the first time in my life, I was finally going to rise above the poverty line. Not only that, I was going to get the actual hell away from it.
"He's waiting," Elena said. "He seems antsy, and he's definitely all business. Not exactly into small talk. But very handsome."
"Works for me," I said, grabbing the over-sized designer pocketbook I'd borrowed from the wardrobe and throwing it over my shoulder. The bag was new; I'd taken the tag off of it that afternoon. It had cost more than my monthly rent, which I found utterly ridiculous. But I had to look the part. I had to seem like a billionaire's fiancée, not an escort hired to pretend to be a billionaire's fiancée. My cheap plastic tote from Target wasn't going to cut it.
"Are you sure you're okay with this? It's a big commitment…" My boss's voice trailed off.
"Don't get soft on me now, Elena." I kept my tone light. The truth was, her concern touched me. "I'll be fine. In fact, I'll be two million dollars more than fine. How many people get to say that?"
I'd already promised myself that if Lucas Ford was mean, or if he was dangerous at all, I would leave the assignment. Money was important, and I needed it badly, but my safety came first.
The money came a very close second.
Elena nodded. "I just want to make sure you'll be okay."
"You don't need to worry about me. I can handle this," I assured her. "It's just business."
She reached out and clasped my hand. "I know how much this will help you. You and your mom can finally get a nice place. Somewhere safe. But I mean it, Blake, if you have any second thoughts, call me. I'm here for you."
"Thank you." I smiled, trying to reassure her. "I'll be fine. And just wait until my mom hears about the money!" I couldn't wait to call my mom, to let her know that by the end of this assignment, we would officially be in the monetary clear. I would just have to get her to swear, up and down, that she wouldn't tell my leech of a sister.
Elena called our bouncer, Ty, and had him collect the luggage. "Mr. Ford's car is out front," she instructed him.
I watched as Ty grabbed the bags and headed out of the back room, carrying the clothes I would be wearing for the coming months as I lived out my days in a stranger's home.
A stranger who was about to become my husband.
LUCAS
A very bulky, menacing-looking man came out of the back room, carrying two suitcases, his biceps popping. He gave me a warning look as he headed outside.
"What?" I asked, standing up.
"What d'ya mean, what?" he asked, his voice as strong and heavy as his body.
"Why are you giving me a death look?" I prided myself on getting to the point.
He stopped and turned to me, not putting the suitcases down. "Blake's my girl," he said. "You hurt her, I'll come and find you. You break her heart, I break your face."
I nodded, crossing my arms against my chest so he could see my own biceps, which weren't quite as large as his, but came pretty close. "Well… okay. If that's all."
"Yeah, it is," he grunted, then carried the enormous suitcases down the stairs.
I cracked my knuckles again, but I decided I wasn't going to fight him. Not right then.
More movement extended into my peripheral vision. I turned to see a tall blonde come out, throwing her long hair behind her shoulder and smiling at me prettily. She took my hand firmly. "Blake Maxwell," she said, her voice throaty and pleasant. "Pleasure to meet you."
She looked even better than in her photo. I hadn't thought that was possible.
I shook her hand, absolutely dumbfounded by her beauty. "Lucas Ford," I said, somewhat stupidly. Her smile broadened, and I caught a glimpse of her white, even teeth. Jesus, she was gorgeous, and nothing about her looked remotely fake. I caught myself wondering what it would be like to touch her skin, to pull her against me.
Down boy, I warned myself. Jesus. We hadn't even made it through the front door, and I was ogling her.
Ogling wasn't part of the deal I'd made with myself.
"Well, I'm all packed and ready to go," she said, her voice gentle.
I shook my head as if to clear it. "Great." I turned to lead the way.
But there was nothing great about it. My escort was so pretty, it hurt to look at her. And I was going to have to marry this girl and pretend that it was real, all while keeping my hands to myself. Because that was one promise I'd made. In order to keep my exposure—physical, emotional, psychological—to a minimum, I wasn't going to sleep with Blake.
Not at all. Not ever. Not once.
It was going to be a long year.
BLAKE
The billionaire was cute. Gorgeous, actually, but with the way he'd fumbled when he saw me, he seemed almost puppy-like. I mentally breathed a sigh of relief—I'd been worried what he'd be like since I'd gone back and re-read that article. I took in his curly dark hair, green eyes, and the large muscles going on underneath his dress shirt, which was open at the throat. He was on the verge of being seriously sexy, but he practically tripped down the stairs as he led me to his fancy SUV. Ty was out there, watching us, a smirk forming on his face as he saw me work my magic on yet another customer.
Ty told me he'd come and punch this guy if he turned out to be a freak. I winked at the bouncer as I accepted Lucas's hand and climbed into the back of the car. My look told Ty, don't worry, I got this.
And here I'd been all nervous that I was about to be married to a stranger.
I settled into the luxurious leather seat next to my client. Lucas looked at me and smiled tightly. "This is… awkward."
"We'll be fine," I said. I reached over and squeezed his hand. "I'm thrilled about the job. Thank you for the opportu
nity."
"Wait till you meet my family," he said. "You might want to hold off on the gratitude. You're going to earn every dollar from this assignment."
"That sounds ominous."
"That was my intention. I'm the nicest one of the bunch." He trained his green eyes on me, and I shivered. A glimpse emerged of the intense CEO who swallowed other companies in a zombie-like haze. "And that's saying something, because I'm not very nice."
I looked out the rearview window, Ty disappearing into the distance. "Oh." My voice came out small. So Lucas Ford was a dick. "Great."
He smiled at me again, and I noticed that he had a dimple. Just one, in his left cheek. "I'll make an exception and be nice to you."
My nerves abated. "I'll make an exception and be nice to you, too."
His dimple deepened as he regarded me. "Blake Maxwell, you have a deal."
Chapter Three
Lucas
"Tell me about yourself." I bit the inside of my cheek, wincing. Everything I said seemed ridiculous to me. For someone who didn't do anxious, my nerves seemed to be carrying the day. It must be all of Blake's blond hair, scrambling my brain.
In my real life, I barely bothered with conversation with the women I slept with. But I had to talk to my fake fiancée. I didn't have a choice if I wanted this to seem real, and it had to. If Serena suspected I was just doing this for my inheritance, I had no doubt she would go running to the trust administrator to contest the terms in an attempt to inherit every cent of our family's billions.
Blake shrugged, her movement breaking my reverie. "There's not much to tell. I've been working for Elena for about a year." She said this quickly, as though she didn't want me thinking about her occupation. "And before that, I was a hostess and a waitress at some local restaurants."
"Which ones?" I asked.
"L'Hereux, Demain." Her pronunciation of the high-end French restaurants was flawless. "I worked at Ministry for a while."
"I like Ministry," I offered.
"It's pretty inside." She smoothed her skirt. "Where's your office?"
"Downtown." I seriously sucked at small talk.
"Where do you live?" Blake asked, undeterred.
I jerked my thumb toward the left. "Newbury Street. I have a penthouse suite at The Stratum."
"That's a beautiful building."
"That's why I bought an apartment there. What about you? Do you live in the city?" I asked.
"I live in Southie. And not the nice part." She gave me an embarrassed smile, and for the first time, she seemed like a mere mortal, not some underwear-model goddess.
"I like Southie—even the not-nice part. My favorite diner's there. MiMi's. On Kneeland Street."
She smiled more fully, flashing those brilliant white teeth. "That's my mom's favorite."
"No way. Does she live down here?" I asked.
"She's actually my roommate." Her face softened. "She likes the roast beef hash, which I just don't get. It disgusts me."
"You're crazy. I like it, too. Your mother has excellent taste."
"I'll relay that to her." Blake picked up a lock of her hair and twirled it while I tried not to stare. "So what about your family? They're local, right?"
"My father lives in the city with my stepmother." I laughed and scrubbed my hand across my face. "It feels silly to call her that. She's thirty-six."
Blake raised her eyebrows slightly. "How old's your dad?"
"Seventy-six."
"Oh. Huh." She looked momentarily boggled. "What about your sister?"
"Serena. She lives close by, too. But thankfully, I don't run into her too much."
Blake looked at me with sympathy. "Why are they so terrible?"
I shrugged. "You'll see soon enough."
"What's our story going to be, anyway?" she asked. "Do they think you're dating someone already?"
I surprised myself by laughing. "I haven't told them a thing. I'm going to introduce you to them this weekend. I was thinking we could plan a dinner."
"That sounds good… but can you tell me more about your situation? And your trust?" Blake asked. "Elena mentioned something about it, but she didn't go into much detail. I like specifics. I want to do the best job I can for you."
"Good. I appreciate that." I stared out the window as the city passed by. There was a lot of traffic on Massachusetts Avenue, commuters heading back to the suburbs from their downtown jobs. "The trust is from my mother's side of the family. It's a generation-skipping trust, which means that my mother never inherited any of it. It will pass directly to me and my sister if we comply with its terms. The provisions of the trust stipulate that in order to inherit the corpus, Serena and myself both need to be married by the age of thirty-five, and that the marriage must last for at least one year."
"What's the ‘corpus'?" She wrinkled her nose. "And why would it have terms like that?"
"The corpus is the bulk of the money in the trust instrument. And as for the terms, it's pretty common to have terms that denote that the grantee is mature enough to handle the inheritance." I scrubbed a hand across my face. "In my case, my mother's family wanted to be sure that the heirs only got access to the money if we were mature enough to take care of it. And they thought that marriage—one that wasn't short-term—was a good marker of that… or their trust and estates lawyers did."
Blake was quiet for a moment, appearing to process what I'd told her. "You said Serena was older than you?" Blake asked. "Is she married?"
"She was. She's divorced now." I turned back to Blake. "But she's qualified for her portion of the trust. She's met the requirements. The only thing standing in the way of her inheriting the whole thing is me. She doesn't get her money until it's been determined whether or not I'm getting the other half. That's why you're here."
"But otherwise, she gets everything?" Blake asked.
I sighed. "That's right. And if you knew my sister, you'd know why I don't want that to happen."
"I can't wait to meet her," Blake said, deadpan.
BLAKE
We pulled up outside The Stratum, and the valet opened my door.
"Wait a minute," Lucas snapped.
The valet nodded and immediately closed the door.
"This will be the first time we're seen in public." Lucas turned to me, his green eyes searching my face. "Are you sure you're up for this?"
I nodded. "Absolutely. This money will be life-changing for me. I'll be able to take care of my mom, not to mention what a million dollars would do for me."
"If this works, you'll get two million." Lucas's intense gaze held mine. The outrageousness of what we were doing hung in the air between us.
I smiled at him gamely. He needed to see that I was his ally. "I can do what you're asking, and I'm more than happy to. I promise I'll do what you ask, when you ask. Okay?"
"Okay. Then I should give you this." He pulled out a box and opened it. "We should start as we mean to go on." An enormous, square-cut diamond engagement ring glittered in the box, leaving me breathless.
I stared at it, open-mouthed. "Huh. Wow."
"I don't socialize with the people in my building too often, but they should see you wearing the ring. Everyone should."
I ogled the huge ring. "They'll see it, all right."
He took my hand, giving me a solemn smile and simultaneously, the chills. "Blake Maxwell, will you marry me?"
I smiled back at him. This was not how I'd pictured this moment as a little girl… but since when had my life ever gone as I'd hoped?
"Lucas Ford, I accept." He slid the ring on my finger, and I wondered vaguely whether his driver, who was double-parked and completely silent, thought we were insane. Then the valet opened the door again. I stood on the sidewalk, watching the diamond sparkle in the late-afternoon sun. I remembered the money.
And I no longer cared what anyone else thought.
The lobby of the hotel was as I remembered it. There were marble floors, marble columns, and teak woodwork. It was very luxurious and
a bit severe, sort of like Lucas Ford himself.
I didn't tell him that I'd been there before. With other men. I hoped that none of the staff would recognize me. If they did, I prayed they at least had the decency to pretend otherwise.
I tentatively put my hand on Lucas's arm as we headed toward the elevator. If people were going to believe that we were a couple—engaged, no less—there was no time like the present for us to act like one. Lucas shot me a look but then took my hand. Even though I was five-feet-eight, I felt positively tiny next to him as he hustled me through the lobby. He pulled me close against his six-feet-three frame, nodding curtly at the hotel staff, not stopping to say hello to anyone. Lucas Ford was clearly a lone wolf. It was going to be difficult to convince people that he had finally chosen a mate. He released my hand when he got inside the elevator.
"Lucas…" I let my voice trail off. "Would it be okay if I ask you some more questions?"
His green eyes scanned me, making me shiver again. "Such as?"
"Such as, why did you hire me? Why didn't you ask a friend? Or actually…" I let my voice trail off.
"Actually what?" He faced the elevator doors as they opened then strode through. From what I could see, there was only one door on this floor. We had reached the penthouse suite, occupation one.
Now two.
He opened the door, and I momentarily forgot about all of my questions. Holy guacamole. Even though I’d been to The Stratum before, I'd never been in the penthouse suite. It had all the usual touches one would expect—gleaming hardwood floors, gorgeous furniture, original artwork. But the best part was the floor-to-ceiling windows that took up an entire wall, overlooking the park. I went over to them and looked out, gaping.
"Wow." The park stretched out before me, its flowering trees and sparkling ponds glinting in the afternoon light. "This might be the best view in the city."
Lucas came up beside me. "I've always liked it." He turned to me. "Now, what were you asking me?"
"I'm asking why you hired me when you have all of this." I gestured to the view, the apartment, and finally to Lucas himself, which brought a small grin to his face. "It can't exactly be difficult for you to find a date."