The Tycoon's Make-Believe Fiancee
The Tycoon
’
s Make-Believe Fianc
é
e
By Elizabeth Lennox
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Copyright 2014
ISBN13: 9781940134963
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author
’
s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, currently known or future inventions except as may be expressly permitted in writing from ElizabethLennox.com.
Royston Carmichael stared at the woman who had just entered his office, not believing his eyes. “Wyndi?” he whispered hoarsely, completely poleaxed by the presence of the blond woman. And then his fury exploded. “Is this some kind of a joke?” he demanded, his hands fisting at his side. “I don’t know who you are, but my sister is dead! So whatever game you’re playing…”
Wyndi couldn’t believe what she was hearing. And the pain in her brother’s eyes was very real, desperately raw. She stepped forward carefully, her eyes gentling as she tried to reach her brother. “Royston, it isn’t a game. It’s me. Wyndi.”
He glared down at the tiny woman who looked startlingly, hauntingly similar to the little sister he’d tried to protect so many years ago. But it was impossible. “My sister died of pneumonia,” he growled, furious that anyone would try such a horrible trick. “The case worker told me my sister died. You’re going to have to leave. Now!” he almost shouted.
Wyndi shook her head. “They lied, Royston. I didn’t die.” She hesitated for a moment. “Think about it. Was there even a funeral?” She waited a moment, letting that question sink in. Wyndi’s smile brightened. “I’ve been looking for you for years, Royston. I promise you, I didn’t die and I am here and healthy.” She could tell that he was listening, but the tension in his shoulders was too strong. She could see that he was holding himself back, just like he’d done when they were kids.
“You’re not going to win this one, Royston,” she laughed, immediately understanding his tactics. “Mom and Dad used to laugh whenever you pulled this on them. Remember when you wanted to join the junior football team and they said no? It was too dangerous for you?” she prompted. “You stood in the kitchen while mom pulled the cookies out of the oven, your shoulders all tense, like you were about to go into battle. But Dad stepped in front of you, put a hand on your shoulder and told you that you could do soccer instead of football.” She watched waiting for some reaction. “And at their funeral…” She paused as the emotions choked off her words, but suppressed the sadness that sprang up. She had to finish, had to prove that she really was his sister. “At their funeral, you did the same thing, trying to hold back the tears and be strong for me…” She couldn’t finish the sentence because she was swept up into a hug, her brother’s arms lifting her up into his strong arms while he buried his face in her hair.
“They told me you’d died! If I’d known you were still alive, I would have found you! I would have protected you!” She felt the shudder as his emotions rocked his body, and she held him close, trying to ease the pain he was feeling.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, almost giddy with relief and happiness that she’d finally found him. And that there was a perfectly good explanation for why he hadn’t searched for her. “Royston, it’s okay. You don’t have to feel bad – it was so long ago. And I’m doing great now! I’m just so happy to be with you now. I’ve been searching for you for so long!” Royston might be holding back the tears, but she let them fall freely, overjoyed to have finally found her brother.
Royston held the slender woman in his arms, feeling her tears against his cheek, and he pulled back. Setting her down on her feet, he looked down at her, taking in how gloriously beautiful she looked. And happy! Damn, she looked happy! “What happened to you? I didn’t believe them at first,” he told her, thinking back on those painful years after their parents had died. He’d been so furious that anyone would try and separate the two of them, and disgusted with himself for not being strong enough or smart enough to put food on the table for her. He’d failed as her big brother, but never again! “I kept running away from the foster homes they put me in, determined to get back to you. They probably told me you’d died just so I’d stop trying to find you.”
Which was no excuse, he thought silently. “Are you okay? You’re going to have to tell me everything. I lost track of you after we were separated, but I promise you, I kept trying to find you!”
Tamar stepped forward, gently touching his wife’s shoulder. “We have that appointment,” he reminded her.
Wyndi bit her lip, not sure what to do. She had to meet with this doctor, but she wanted to stay with her brother.
“What appointment?” he demanded, instantly concerned. “What’s going on?”
Wyndi smiled gently. “It’s nothing,” she assured him, putting a hand on his arm. “I just have a…”
“Who is this guy?” he demanded, turning to face the man who dared to touch his baby sister. “What the hell are you doing to Wyndi?”
Tamar relaxed, amusement shining in his eyes. “I am her husband. And she has an appointment that she cannot miss. We stopped by here first to…”
Wyndi stepped in at that point, not wanting to hurt her brother with the news that they hadn’t been sure of his reaction. “Tamar is taking me to see an obstetrician,” she explained, her eyes darting between the two men she loved. “Tamar specifically set up this meeting with you before my other appointment, just in case.”
“Just in case of what?” Royston demanded, putting an arm around her shoulders protectively.
Tamar stepped in when his gentle, kind wife hesitated. “We weren’t sure why a man of your means hadn’t searched out for his sister,” he explained. “So I ensured that, if you were to reject her for any reason, she would have something happy to go to next. Hence, our first visit with her new obstetrician. She will hear our son’s heartbeat in less than thirty minutes.”
Wyndi’s heart melted at the sweet, caring gesture of her husband. He was always trying to protect her from anything, both physical and emotional. She reached out and touched his hand, silently telling him how much she loved him.
Royston took in a deep breath and squeezed her shoulders gently. “You’re going to be a mom?” he asked reverently.
Wyndi nodded, her hand automatically coming up to cover her still-flat stomach. She wasn’t showing, was actually only a few weeks pregnant. But Tamar was insisting on getting her checked out, just to make sure she was okay and the baby was healthy.
She looked up at her brother, concern etched on her face. “Royston, are you okay? Are you happy?” She reached out and touched his shoulder again. “Do you have someone in your life that makes you feel good?”
Royston chuckled at the further evidence that this was indeed his baby sister. She had always been concerned about his moods, telling him silly, kid jokes when he looked irritated or sneaking him cookies when he’d gotten in trouble for one reason or another. “I’m happy now,” he told her, taking her hands. “Will you come back after your appointment? I want to hear what you’ve been up to, what you’ve done with your life.”
“Of course.” She smiled brightly, so excited she could barely contain her happiness. She reached up and touched his cheek. “Are you happy though? Are you genuinely happy? I’ve been so worried about you. I saw a few pictures online and you don’t look very happy,” she said softly.
Royston threw back his head and laughed. “My sister has just come back from the dead and I’ve been told I’m going to be an uncle in a few months. What could be wrong?”
She bit her lip, still not convinced. “But all the women,” she said softly. “You don’t look happy with them at all.”
Royston chuckled and squeezed her fingers. “I’m very happy,” he told her firmly. “In fact, I’ve found the love of my life and we’re getting married soon.” It was a complete lie, but he didn’t care when the worry from his sister’s face instantly cleared away.
“Wow! I get my brother back and a sister in law!” She was almost jumping with excitement. “When do I get to meet her?”
“Tonight,” he said without thinking. “Have dinner with me tonight and you can meet her but you’ll have to tell me everything that’s happened to you over the years. Deal?”
Wyndi laughed, delighted. “It sounds perfect!”
“We have to go,” Tamar urged gently.
“I’ll see you tonight,” Royston said, seeing the indecision on her lovely face.
Since she needed to reassure Tamar that she was going to be okay throughout this pregnancy, she relented even though she didn’t want to leave her brother just yet. “Okay. Tonight over dinner, we’ll catch up. Sounds perfect!”
Royston watched the couple leave, his mind going through all of the issues he’d have to deal with now that he’d found out his sister hadn’t died all those years ago. His sister! Damn he couldn’t believe that she was still alive! He was thrilled of course, but the guilt that had been gnawing at him ever since he heard that she’d died wouldn’t give him peace, even though she looked happier than he’d ever thought possible.
He didn’t have time to deal with that guilt now though. He had things to do. First and foremost, get a more detailed background check on this Tamar guy. If his baby sister was married to him, Royston wanted to make sure that he was worthy of her. No way was he going to let her be hurt again!
After hanging up the phone with his security chief, he felt confident that he would have a more thorough report in a few hours from his team.
Happy. He chuckled at the way her sweet, blue eyes had looked up at him. She wanted him to be happy. Yes, that was the Wyndi he remembered. She’d always been so concerned about him, when she wasn’t trying to get into his business. Shaking his head at some of the ways she’d irritated him, he couldn’t believe what a beautiful woman she’d grown into.
Happy. Damn! Happy? Hell, if his baby sister wanted him to be happy, he’d damn well prove to her that he was happy.
Now he just had to find a fiancée. And he had to figure out how to be happy. How the hell did one become happy?
Miranda’s fingers flew over the keyboard, panic and irritation slowing her down. She tried to take a few deep breaths, hoping that would still her shaking fingers. She had to get this right and she had to finish it fast. She glanced at the time once more and then regretted it. She had less than five minutes!
Pushing herself harder than she ever had before, she printed out the reports then went through them one more time. The clock told her it was five minutes past noon. The CEO of her company, a.k.a. “Head Jerk” had demanded these reports no later than noon. That didn’t mean twelve oh one. That meant twelve o’clock, on the dot.
And here it was, five minutes after twelve. Shoot!
She still spread the reports out on her desk and went through the numbers. The only thing worse than being late was giving the man inaccurate reports.
“Are they ready?” her boss asked, poking his head around the doorway. She saw the sweat on his forehead and upper lip and understood his concern. She was feeling more than a little panicky herself.
“Almost,” she replied, looking at the numbers on one report to ensure that they matched the other report. Perfect!
“Here!” she said, sliding them all together. “Ready for His Majesty.”
“Oh no! I’m not delivering these seven minutes late.” He moved into the room, grabbing the reports that someone else handed to him and sliding them into the right order among the multitude of reports that the other team members had produced. “Here,” he said, handing Miranda the whole stack. “You bring them to him.”
Miranda stared at the man, dumbfounded. “Why me?”
Her boss dumped all the reports on her desk and walked away. “Because he won’t bite your head off like he will mine,” he said and disappeared.
Miranda looked at the clock one more time, then gathered them all up, sliding her own reports into the correct place. When she was finished, she took another moment to make a copy of everything, then almost ran down the hallway.
“He’s out to lunch, right?” she called out to Laura, the Head Jerk’s administrative assistant.
Miranda caught Laura’s smile and breathed a sigh of relief. “Great!” she said, but she was already rushing past Laura’s desk so she didn’t catch the woman’s negative shake of her head before bursting into Head Jerk’s office.
She caught sight of the empty desk and her shoulders relaxed. The man was out to lunch so there was no way he would know that the report was late! Whew! What a bonus!
She put the report in the middle of his desk and started to turn away. She was just about to step back from his desk when she saw something out of the corner of her eye. It was a movement, just a slight one, but she froze.
Well, most of her froze. Her mind froze. Her feet froze. But her legs were in motion and it was hard to stop them since her mind wasn’t telling her legs to pull back. So when her legs kept going but her feet refused to shift properly, it was inevitable that she would almost fall over the chair in front of his desk.
She groaned and slapped her hand over her now-bruised knee. “What are you doing here?” she snapped, then instantly regretted her outburst when she saw the dark eyebrow move upwards.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she replied, immediately trying to look contrite. “That was rude of me.” She was trying to scurry out of his office but it was hard when her feet were still in not-wanting-to-cooperate mode.
“Stop,” Royston called out.
When the woman immediately froze, he watched her, fascinated. She really was a stunning woman. Her dark brown hair curled softly around her delicate features, and her green eyes sparkled. Of course, at that moment, their sparkle was probably something he should be offended by, but he was only amused. He also liked those full red lips, which were currently drawn in a thin line as she tried to keep from snapping at him again. He’d seen her several times in the hallways, and had always been struck by her beauty, but he’d never taken the time to really look at her. He’d always been too busy, getting to another meeting or contemplating his next move that would completely vanquish his latest enemy.
Royston loved business, loved building up his empire and controlling more and more companies. And he was extremely good at it. He also ruled his empire with an iron fist, not allowing any slack. When employees did not live up to his very high expectations, they were gone. He paid his employees extremely well and expected them to perform to his exacting standards.
So despite his passing interest in this woman, he hadn’t taken the time to really look at her, other than to appreciate her beauty from a distance as he went about his business.
But now, he took a long moment to really look at her, to take in all the lushness of her lips, her slender but round in all the right places figure and he was more than a little intrigued. “I’m assuming that’s the financial report with last quarter’s figures?” he asked her smoothly, coming closer so he could see her better.
“Yes, sir,” Miranda replied, wishing she could just run and hide. The rest of the women in this office thought he was the “cat’s meow”, gushing about how sexy he was, how tall he was and how they would all drop their husbands if he crooked his little finger in their direction.
But Miranda wasn’t impressed. He might be sexy as sin, but all that handsomeness was the public façade of a man who was just horrible! His entire executive staff was terrified of his wrath, of not meeting his expectations. If rumors were true, he would sit in the meetings and tell his directors what results he wanted them to bring in for the next year or quarter or month and they would kill themselves to achieve those results.
This was the first time she’d ever interacted with the man face to face. She was hard pressed to keep her mouth shut, and not berate him for being such a horrible person towards all his employees.
“The report is late,” he said very succinctly. He stopped when he was about two feet from her, his eyes moving over her lovely features. His mind was less concerned with the report and wondering if her very pale, very smooth skin burned with the slightest touch of the sun. Or would she turn a delicate shade of tan?
Her lips were slightly chapped, he noticed. From kissing her husband or boyfriend? He instantly dismissed that idea, not wanting this woman to be encumbered by a relationship with another man.
“Yes, it is a few minutes late. But I think you’ll find that the information is accurate and….” She tried to come up with another benefit, but he moved closer to her and her brain just fizzled to a stop. “What are you doing?” she asked when he moved even closer to her, not sure why her voice was barely above a whisper. Or why the man smelled so….incredible!
“What’s your name?” he demanded.
Miranda blinked, not sure why he needed to know her name. “Am I about to be fired? Because if that’s the case, I think I’ll just keep my name to myself.”
He couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped at her obvious attempt to hide from his wrath. “I’ll find out anyway.”
Her eyes accidentally dropped to his firm, thin lips but she suddenly realized what she’d done and forced her eyes to look back at his. “Yes, but if you don’t know my name immediately, it will at least give me a running start.”
She had a point. And she was funny. He was even more intrigued. “What’s your name?”
Miranda knew she couldn’t keep it from him and she was being ridiculous to even try. But she instinctively knew that flying under the radar with this man was the best way to go. An innate sense of self-preservation reared its head and she suspected that giving him her name would be dangerous. But what was the alternative?
“I can see that your name is a difficult question. So let’s try another one. What do you do?”
She blinked, her lips pursing as she tried to remember her role. “Um….”
That supercilious eyebrow went up once again. “I can see that I’m probably paying you too much. You don’t know your name and you don’t know what you do for my company.”
“Miranda!” she snapped, irritated by his deep voice that sounded like he was laughing at her. But that couldn’t be true because Royston Carmichael was reputed to not have a sense of humor. “Miranda Lillith. And I work in your finance department. I help the chief financial officer with the quarterly and monthly reports.”
He nodded his head, thinking that he liked her even more because of her spirited reply. “And how long have you been working for me?”
She tried very hard not to fidget, but he was so close! She wanted to step back, put some space between them. Enough space so she couldn’t smell his incredible, male scent that filled her head with some sort of enticing spice that she couldn’t identify. “Two years.”
“Where did you go to school?”
She thought about telling him the name of her elementary school, but really didn’t want to be fired. “NYU,” she finally replied.
Royston watched her, sensing something deeper than she was revealing to him. “Are you married?”
“No!” she replied, bristling.
“Boyfriend?” he demanded again.
Had he moved closer? “None of your business,” she came right back, trying not to breathe in too deeply. Maybe if she stopped breathing, she wouldn’t smell him. Was that chocolate? Good grief the man smelled good…she shook her head, telling herself that she didn’t need to identify what this man smelled like. He was the enemy! “And why are you asking me all of these questions? Don’t you want to know about your profit margins or the new productivity numbers?”
That surprised him because someone at her level shouldn’t understand all the numbers on that report. “What do you know of the gross contribution for my divisions?” he tested.
Whew, she thought, relieved that he was moving away from personal issues. This was familiar ground. “Which division?” she asked.
“Retail.”
She straightened her shoulders and started spewing out the numbers for his various companies within the retail division. He owned several department stores and she quoted the increase in sales from this quarter to the previous year’s quarter. “In the United States, the west coast and east coast stores are doing better than the Midwest, but the stores located in the southern states are doing the best, increasing their margins as the economy starts to recover.” She then went on to quote specific percentages and variances.
He couldn’t help but be impressed. “What about overseas?”
“Europe is doing well but Asia is taking off. The stores in China are slowing down as their growth also slows, but the comparison isn’t linear.”
He shot question after question at her, moving to his desk and reviewing the report. He waved her into one of the chairs opposite his desk, shooting out rapid fire questions about his businesses and he was stunned by the amount of knowledge the woman could quote from memory, but she had also done some in-depth analysis of the problems and successes, which products were off and which ones had either met or exceeded expectations.
“What’s your boyfriend’s name?” he finally finished off.
“I don’t…” She stopped as soon as she realized what he’d done, glaring at him across his desk.
Royston couldn’t help the deep chuckle that escaped once again. She looked so adorable sitting there glaring at him as if she had the right to admonish him. “That was cheating,” she told him, crossing her arms across her chest.
Royston was delighted with the woman and instinctively knew that she would be perfect for the role of his fake fiancée. He considered his plan for a long moment, factored in all the problems then decided it would be a good idea. She was the ideal candidate. She was smart, beautiful and able to handle herself under pressure. And what was more, he liked her. He genuinely thought she was an interesting person. There was also the added benefit that she was smoking hot! His body definitely liked the idea he was about to offer her.
“Let’s have some lunch,” he commanded arrogantly and stood up, walking around his desk.
Miranda stared at his back, startled to notice how broad his shoulders were. “Excuse me?” she asked, standing up as well but not really moving except for her eyes which followed him. She honestly wasn’t sure if her eyes were shooting daggers into his well-muscled back or if she were wondering what he looked like naked. Okay, she was doing both, but one was probably more likely than the other, she told herself.
“I have a proposition for you, but I’m hungry. So I’m taking you to lunch. Grab your purse and let’s go,” he told her and left his office.
Miranda wanted to throw something at the arrogant man but settled for sneering at him once she was alone. Knowing that she didn’t really have a choice because he wasn’t just her boss but, literally, everyone’s boss, she walked out of his office, her hands fisted by her sides so she couldn’t grab something as she walked by. She was fairly certain he wouldn’t overlook her beaming him with that ridiculous silver blob thing on his coffee table. She’d be fired for sure.
She exited his office, intending to go to her own office and get her coat and purse. But she found him standing by his assistant’s desk talking about something completely different so she just moseyed back to her desk and sat down. She had her purse ready, but she refused to stand beside him waiting like some pathetic minion until the man was ready to leave. She’d been working hard for the past three days, had only gone home last night to shower and change clothes, and come to think of it, that had been this morning and not last night, so she was tired, irritated, had a lot of work to catch up on since the horrible man demanded that these reports be completed in an unreasonable amount of time after the data was available and, well, the truth was, she was just plain stubborn. It had gotten her into trouble in the past, but she still hadn’t fixed that particular quirk of her personality.
It took about ten minutes before he finally came looking for her. She was only down the hallway a bit so it wasn’t like he had to search hard for her. But he stood in her office doorway, looking like some sort of an enormous, avenging god and she couldn’t help it when her stomach did a few flip flops.