Taming the Bad Boy Billionaire Bundle

by Sierra Rose

  “So we’re working for the billionaire sex god? I want to sneak a peek.”

  “He left already.”

  “Damn.”

  “I saw his tats once when he wore short sleeves.”

  “He has tattoos?”

  “Most definitely. Total bad boy! So are you going to go order that pizza or what?”

  Paige went and ordered the pizza.

  Chapter 2

  “OKAY, PIZZA IS COMING in forty-five minutes.”

  “Great. And thanks. Let me finish up these emails. I need your help on the numbers. We’re combing Excel worksheets for transactions from May 17, and it’s like a bad game of Where’s Waldo after a couple of hours.”

  “Why isn’t accounting handling it?”

  “Because he told me to do it. He doesn’t want any red flags to go up on the Johnson deal before we zero in on whether there’s an anomaly here. He wants to make sure there’s not an embezzlement situation going on.”

  “Oh. Then, should I be working on it?”

  “Probably not. But what’s the worst that can happen? He might just bend you over and spank you.”

  She playfully slapped her. “You are so bad! But seriously, I just don’t want you to get in trouble.”

  “I won’t. I’ll tell him straight out that I brought in another employee as an extra set of eyes. I’ll email him now.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  They spent the next forty-five minutes working and crunching numbers and working on files. Paige’s stomach rumbled, and she looked down at the time. “I’m going to head down to the lobby and get the pizza. I’ll be right back.”

  “Great. I owe you one. Margaritas are on me next Tuesday.”

  “Tuesday is ninety-nine cent margarita night, big spender,” Paige laughed.

  They ate in the break room, dishing about the latest This Is Us episode. Then they got back to the grind.

  “I didn’t get a pop in the breakroom because I’m trying to cut down on sugar. I think I need a drink first,” Paige said. “Where’s the water cooler on this floor? I didn’t see it. Is it platinum or something because the CEO’s on this level?”

  “No water cooler. We have a wine fridge outside Conference Room 3 full of bottled water for staff on this floor.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oooh, will I get tasered by security if I take one? I don’t work this high up.”

  She laughed. “It’s okay. Go for it. Grab me one, too. I’ll print the worksheets. You get first pick of highlighters.”

  “Pink for me!”

  Paige went down the hall, admiring the artwork. She was pretty sure that was an original Jackson Pollack by the first conference room. The color and texture were amazing. She made her way to the glass-fronted refrigerator stocked with designer spring water. She took two bottles, totally planning to save the bottle and refill it with tap water every day just to look fancy. As she shut the door on the fridge, she heard a voice on the otherwise deserted floor. A man’s voice, specifically the sexy voice of an angry man.

  “That’s what I need, a fake wife!” he said.

  She hesitated, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, but he wasn’t exactly being quiet and discreet. He’d left the conference room door open. She could see the face on the big screen on the wall with his Skype call—some man she didn’t recognize wearing a designer suit that cost more than her rent.

  “I don’t reckon anyone would believe you’d put a ring on it with the latest Victoria’s Secret Angel you’re dating.”

  “I’m not dating anyone exclusively,” the sexy voice growled.

  “You never are, mate,” the man on the Skype screen laughed, “which is half the trouble. They’d have a deal more confidence in you if you stayed with anyone more than a fortnight.”

  “That’s my personal life, which has nothing to do with my ability to helm this company.”

  “I agree with you there, but the board of directors does not.”

  “I know. Nothing more than a gaggle of men in Brooks Brothers suits gossiping like a load of matchmaking grannies, if you ask me. Fucking go play golf and stay out of my private life.”

  “I’d suggest a more diplomatic tone when you address the board meeting,” the face on the screen warned, “Luke, they’re not budging on this one. You need an image makeover. As your publicist and your friend, I’d be remiss to tell you otherwise. I can only play the ‘most eligible bachelor’ card for so long before everyone notices you’re an absolute scoundrel.”

  “That is the most archaic word. To think in this day and age, I still have to face the puritanical condemnation of a man’s right to sexual agency...”

  “If you start talking about men’s rights, I’m hanging up, Luke. You’re in charge of billions of dollars’ worth of business. Your board and your future clients would be reassured by a less adventurous lifestyle. No one is condemning you; we’re simply saying it’s perhaps time that you became an adult.”

  “I am an adult. I’m thirty-eight years old, but I seem to have stayed out past my curfew from the way I’m treated. What I need is an actress—someone to play the part of my wife. I would pay an absolute fortune to get some wholesome looking woman to pose for pictures, spend my money and give me the respectable appearance I need to get the board off my ass.”

  “That’s risky. You’d need a confidentiality agreement. Or, alternatively, you might consider actually settling down with a woman.”

  “Magnus, you’re hilarious. But I don’t pay you for stupid ideas like that. You’re the number one publicist in the world for a reason. I want you to find me a faux fiancée. And I’ll pay her a million dollars for the role.”

  “I need a drink after this. Cheers, mate,” Magnus said and hung up.

  Paige lingered in the doorway, intrigued.

  A million dollars?

  She’d just listened to this man discussing his problems with a publicist. About needing a stand-in for a wife and paying a fortune for it. It sounded fun. The charade of it, and also the money, which might turn out to solve Paxtyn’s medical bills. He’d told his publicist to find him a wife. What if one fell in his lap? Or walked in the door of his conference room?

  She shouldn’t have been listening. She knew that. But this man needed an actress to pretend like she was his wife? And he was willing to pay for one. Hell, she’d be his pretend wife for that crazy amount of cash. She was sinking in debt. And her sister desperately needed money for her medical bills. This might be crazy, but it was a way to get the money. Just be an actress. Paige could do that. But how the hell should she ask? Hey, give me the job! I desperately need the money. No, that sounded too desperate.

  She bit her lip hard as she pondered.

  She stepped into the room, cleared her throat.

  “Excuse me, I couldn’t help but overhear...” she began.

  Chapter 3

  LUKE LOOKED OVER HIS shoulder to see who was speaking to him. It wasn’t his employee, Gina. Gina’s voice was higher. This woman had a lower, smokier voice. He was torn between irritation at being overheard and arousal at the lush sound of her voice.

  However, when he saw her, it was a different story. This was some barefooted woman with a ponytail. And damn if she wasn’t hot as hell.

  “I’m still working right now. But if you could get the trash for now, that’d be great,” he said with a smile, wondering why the janitorial staff had such lax standards. You can’t clean offices without shoes.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Can you please just empty the trash can? You can come back in an hour to finish the room. If that’s okay. I don’t want to mess up your routine.”

  “But that’s not in my job description.”

  “It’s not?”

  “Nope.”

  “Are you new? Because I assure you it is.”

  “I’m not the cleaning lady. My name is Paige Waters. I’m working with Gina on the Johnson project,” she said, tossing her ponytail loftily.

  “I see. My bad.
I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I’m routinely mistaken for the janitor all the time. I guess I just have one of those faces.”

  He laughed. She was funny.

  “I didn’t authorize any assignments of additional staff to that project. You can understand my surprise at finding I’d been spied on by a shoeless water thief,” he said with amusement.

  She let out a nervous laugh. “If I were stealing, I’d have taken the entire refrigerator since it’s better than the one in my apartment. But apparently executives are too fancy for water coolers with paper cups, so I had to make do with what’s available. I thought everyone zoomed out of here for the weekend.”

  “Not me.”

  “My shoes were killing my little toe on the right foot, so I saw no need to keep them on after hours. And I am wearing pantyhose. I had no idea you were even here.”

  “Your eavesdropping would suggest otherwise,” he said, enjoying the flush on her apple cheeks at his remark. She was rather delicious right down to her evidently abused littlest toe. Her toenails were painted electric pink. He found himself wondering what color her panties were.

  “I didn’t mean to hear your conversation. But nobody is here, and your voice rang through the air.”

  “So you know my dilemma?”

  “Yes. Well, kind of. You need a fake wife.”

  He chuckled. “It seems I do. And I have no idea where the hell I’m going to find one. Do you have any ideas for me? Know any actress friends?”

  “How about I solve your difficulty and pose as your wife?” she said indignantly.

  He shot her the sexiest smile on the planet. He was sure she felt weak in the knees. “You would consider the job?”

  “Yes sir. I would.”

  “Why? When you work here.”

  “I’m having some, um, money problems. And it would really help me get back on track.”

  He looked her up and down. “You would be a wonderul candidate, I assure you that. But...” He paused in thought. “I feel like I’d be taking advantage of an employee and that might be improper. I won’t be engaging a current or past employee for a personal matter. It’s a matter of professional ethics.”

  “Professional ethics? Kind of rich from a guy who’s going to pay a fake wife. I guess faking a marriage isn’t unprofessional?”

  “It’s a professional necessity at this point. I assure you, I wouldn’t seek a wife for any other reason than expedience.”

  “So you’re a true romantic,” she said sarcastically. If only it didn’t sound so alluring when she said it with a roll of her eyes. They were brown, dark as coffee like her hair.

  She was beautiful, he decided. The sort of apple-cheeked prettiness that he’d liked as a teenager on the rare occasions when his prep school got to consort with the nearby girls’ academy. Fresh-faced and ponytailed, she could’ve been his fantasy at seventeen. But she was too sharp-witted to be the adoring cheerleader he’d dreamed of then. She was the sort of woman described as feisty, a handful, a firecracker.

  He rubbed his chin. “I’m sure I’m every bit as romantic as the average man of voting age. It’s a notion one tends to outgrow, or at least men do.”

  “I’m not holding on to any illusions myself. I don’t sit around watching those Hallmark channel Christmas movies and crying into my cat’s fur.”

  “You have a cat though,” he smirked, deciding she was a single lonely heart with probably two cats—so they wouldn’t be lonely while she was at work.

  “No. No pets. How about you? Secretly adore your yellow lab? Or are you more of a cactus man?” she teased.

  “I never had any desire for either. I do own a racing stable in Surrey, so that may count as pet keeping,” he said.

  He was baiting her, knowing she’d say something about nurturing or companionship or how it was barbaric to raise animals for sport. Luke wasn’t sure why he wanted her to rise to the occasion, why, indeed, that he kept her talking at all. He should dismiss her. But the air crackled with something lively and invigorating between them. He wasn’t sure if it was mere attraction or if it was the sheer novelty of finding someone interesting. Luke was accustomed to being completely bored in virtually every conversation.

  Her eyes twinkled as he peered at her. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

  “A high-ranking executive who is with the in crowd.”

  “I’m Luke Conners.”

  The color in her face drained as she looked down at the folders with his name on them. “Oh, shit.”

  This was Luke Conners, the playboy grandson of the old CEO. She’d had listened to the CEO discussing his problems with a publicist. And then propositioned him. Oh dear! Not her best moment.

  He sighed. “That wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for. I was hoping you’d be at least a little bit impressed.”

  “No, I’m impressed. I am! But I had no idea I just proposed to my boss.”

  “Fake proposed.”

  She took a deep breath. “Sir, I am so sorry. I don’t usually do stuff like this. And I asked if I could be the CEO’s wife. What is wrong with me?”

  “Fake wife. Can’t emphasize that enough.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “You said that. Listen, it’s okay. It’s natural to panic after the proposal. And I’m thinking next time you could get on one knee, maybe even make it over-the-top. Boy, you talk about me not being romantic.”

  She grinned. “I like short and sweet.”

  “And where was the ring? Every good proposal needs a good ring.”

  She laughed. “That proposal was the longest twenty seconds of my life. All those butterflies in my stomach were for nothing since I got shot down.”

  “Maybe all those pesky butterflies are from all the sexual chemistry we’re both feeling.”

  “Wow! That’s pretty forward for a boss to say that to his employee.”

  He stepped closer. “As forward as a stranger asking me if she could be my wife?”

  “Fake wife. Can’t emphasize that enough.”

  He laughed. “Throwing my words right back at me. I like you, Paige. It’s truly been a pleasure meeting you.”

  “Likewise.”

  She surprised him again, shrugging and turning away to leave.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Back to work. Gina’s waiting for me. She’s probably wondering what happened to me. Besides, there’s no point standing here. I offered to help you out. You objected to my employment status or social status, or just to me in general, and declined. So, best of luck to you, Mr. Conners.”

  “Wait,” he said, “perhaps I was hasty in my assessment of the situation. I’m concerned with engendering office drama if I were to become involved, even on the surface, with someone from the company. You look presentable enough to keep from raising suspicions, and you understand the circumstances because you overheard the conversation. I may wish to reconsider your offer.”

  “‘Raising suspicions,’ I guess means that people wouldn’t freak out and know it was fake because I’m such an ugly mutant that I couldn’t possibly attract your magnificence, right?”

  “No. Simply that anyone with whom I’m connected romantically is scrutinized in the press. Her eligibility will be discussed—attractiveness, level of education, career success, family connections. It’s something I’ve come to expect. If I were to become engaged to someone whose eligibility is vastly different from my now—”

  “There’s really no way to finish that sentence without sounding like a total snob. Just quit while you’re ahead, sir.”

  “It’s not snobbery. It’s reality. I went to Exeter. I graduated summa cum from Wharton. Cut my teeth on the London office. No one would believe I was serious about, say, a waitress or a—”

  “A cleaning lady? A secretary? You sound like a douche. No offense,” she smirked.

  “No offense?” he said, stunned.

  She didn’t hasten to apologize, didn’t seem to remember that he was head of t
he corporation that employed her, and she had been rude and insubordinate. She giggled. Like an equal who had gotten in a good jab.

  Also, she wasn’t intimidated by the fact he was the CEO, or by his condescending attitude. In short, she wasn’t taking any crap from him. That got his attention immediately.

  She took a step closer. “What I mean is, if you were really a total douche, you wouldn’t bother to be offended because you’d continue thinking you were made of awesomeness. And if you’re not a complete d-bag, then you’ll stop and think about the crappiness of your conceited remarks and do better. So, I hope it’s the second one, and I wasn’t hoping to insult you. Just—instruct you.”

  “You’re teaching me social skills?”

  “Maybe one or two. Someone ought to do it. Anyway, have a good night. I have water to deliver. Bye.”

  She turned and left. He stood there, not sure what to make of her. She was presumptuous. She was opinionated. She was nosy. It would be easy to mark her down as a secretary with bad manners and no sense of her place in the hierarchy. Except she was funny and smart and scrumptious.

  He resisted the urge to get a bottled water and pour it over his head to cool down. Because Paige Waters had him on edge. She’d been right—he wasn’t insulted. He was intrigued. He was turned on. He was completely focused on her. Not her specifically, of course. Just on his problem and the need to find a suitable woman to pose as his wife.

  Surely Magnus could manage it for him. He should just forget about Paige. About her bare feet and electric pink nail polish. About her generosity—she’d offered to help him. Sure, there was money involved, but also pressure, scrutiny, and plenty of inconvenience. So, it had been rather kind of her to offer, he supposed. One part of him was sure it would stir up too much office drama. And the other part wanted to dive straight on in.

  Chapter 4

  PAIGE COULDN’T STOP thinking about the gorgeous CEO. She wondered what it would be like to kiss him, to have his lips against hers.

  “Okay. Bad thoughts,” she scolded herself as she got off the elevator and walked back into Gina’s office.