WIFE WANTED (A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance) (25 page)

Ben shot him a look. “Be happy I’m not that mean.”

“Heard from Linda at all?”

“Since I helped send her to jail?” Ben laughed sadly. “No, not a word.”

“I’m sorry, man, really.”

“Nah,” his friend said. “She used me. Enough said. Oh, look, we’re here. Are you ready?”

Riley groaned and wished he could disappear, but his last ditch effort to get out of the wedding had been met with his grandfather’s lawyers stonewalling him. The document was iron-clad. Nothing he did would get him out of this deal. Diane could still potentially get everything, even though she was in jail. His only choice was to marry. Today.

To a complete stranger.

At least this way, he hoped there would be less drama. He’d go in there, say his vows, go on a honeymoon, and hope that one day he might learn to love the woman who would be linked to him for life. Or at least for as long as they could stand each other.

Ben opened the door when the town car pulled to a stop and tugged at Riley’s sleeve when he didn’t seem ready to jump out. “The faster you get in there, the faster you can get this over with and go enjoy your honeymoon.”

“Fine, fine,” Riley said and climbed out. He adjusted his black tux jacket and nodded at several guests arriving to the chapel. It was a very small affair, with only a few friends and family from his side—Jim and Larry, and Bethany and Darcie. There was also a young woman pushing an older woman in a wheelchair he didn’t recognize. When Ben gave him a gentle shove towards the chapel, he started walking, trying to stay positive.

At least he wasn’t marrying Diane Chandler.

It didn’t take long for everyone to settle inside. Riley shifted on his feet, eyes focused on the beautiful stained glass images of flowers and rivers which changed the sunlight to intricate little rainbows reflected across the stone walls and floor. Candles had been lit behind the altar and lined the aisle. White flower petals created a walkway for the bride—tulips and roses, by the look of it. The minister cleared his throat then motioned to the violin trio to begin the music.

The young woman Riley saw outside the chapel started down the aisle. Her sage satin dress fit her perfectly, her long, blonde hair curled and pushed to one side, over her shoulder. She was smiling at Riley and Ben as she approached. Riley took a deep breath. If her friend was that attractive, then the bride had to be, too, right? He just hoped she didn’t laugh like a freaking hyena or try to take all his money. The music changed, and Ben nudged him with his elbow.

Riley stood straighter and tried to smile but found it hard. All last night, he’d dreamt of a face with gentle green eyes and auburn hair, laughing as she lay in his arms. If only that dream had been reality…

The bride appeared in the doorway, veil covering her face. Riley gritted his teeth. Figured she would hide from him. Her walk down the aisle was slow, and it gave him time to admire her taste in fashion. The dress was all lace, draped delicately over her body. The capped sleeves added a sense of elegance intensified by the long gloves she wore. He watched her walk and grinned at her bare feet sticking out from under the hem as the train trailed behind her. She had good sense, at least, not to wear five-inch heels.

The bride reached out and squeezed the woman in the wheelchair’s hand as she passed, then Riley found her standing right beside him, handing her bouquet to her bridesmaid.

“If everyone would please be seated,” the minister said. “Riley, will you do the honor of turning your bride’s veil?”

Riley gulped as he reached out shaky hands for the edge of the veil. After just a moment’s hesitation, he flipped it over. His jaw dropped in disbelief at the smiling face staring up at him.

“Hello, Riley.”

“Phoebe?”

She reached up and took his shaking hands in hers. “I heard you missed me. Is it true?”

He didn’t have words to tell her how much. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, his lips meeting hers with a fire that had been burning in him since the night she ran out of his apartment. She met his kiss with the same need, and they were lost, holding each other as tightly as they could, locked in an embrace that neither wanted to end.

Someone cleared his throat, and their kiss broke apart slowly.

The minister raised his brow. “I think we are a bit ahead of ourselves.”

Riley and Phoebe laughed with everyone else in the chapel. “Sorry,” they said together and turned, hands held tightly, to face the minister.

The older man cracked a crooked grin. “Now then, if we can begin…”

Riley and Phoebe’s eyes didn’t leave each other’s as the minister talked about love and their future life together. Neither one heard too much, already knowing what their lives were going to be like now that they’d found one another. Phoebe leaned against his shoulder, and Riley glanced up towards the heavens, feeling Meredith smiling down at them both. At the life he could now have. At a life they both deserved.

BONUS NOVEL INCLUDED!

BAD BOY MONEY

(A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance)

By

Bella Grant

SARA

The day I received the invitation to the Saunders Empire private ball started off as an ordinary day. I woke up as usual at six in the morning, made it to my job as a barista in a local coffee shop, ate my
brown-bag lunch, made small talk with customers I couldn't really stand, returned to my tiny apartment to a sink filled with dirty plates, ordered my usual Chinese combination fried rice, and went through my mail.

As I sat eating my greasy dinner, I lazily glanced through the mail. Bills - people I owe and people who expect money from me, a couple of spam mails, and my
Fashionette
magazine, which came with a big pink sticker reminding me for the hundredth time that my subscription was ending and I could renew for a big discount. I tossed the magazine on a pile of magazines, and as I did, a golden envelope fell out from between the pages.

I cast a lazy glance at the envelope, trying to decide if I should get up from my cozy seat to pick it up or if I could do that the next day. Laziness got the better of me; if it was a bill, I couldn’t afford to pay it until I got my next pay check in two weeks, so what was the point of opening it?

I grabbed the remote control and flipped through several channels until I found some dumb horror movie - the one where a group of teenagers explore a haunted house and someone takes off to find out where a strange noise is coming from and inevitably gets killed. And of course, another teen followed to see if he's okay, and while the rest of them clamor together in one room, that teen is predictably killed. Slowly, they all disappeared until only one person escaped the house.

Around nine, I'd had enough of the crappy movie, so I decided to turn in for the night. I stepped over that golden envelope lying on the floor; my eyes darted to the return address. Saunders Empire. I picked up the envelope and opened it as I walked to my bedroom. The envelope and the paper it contained were certainly worth more than a day’s salary. It was rich and soft, and on the top was the monogram Saunders Empire. On the front was my name and address: Sara Nolles, 1245 North Main Street. 

Saunders Empire caused a loud bell to ring in my head. I had interned for one of the branches as an undergrad, but only briefly. I had applied for a job right after graduation, but they had kindly replied, in an envelope not as fancy as this one, that I was underqualified for the positions available, and they would contact me when a position I was qualified for opened.

I flipped the envelope over; it was sealed with a gold embossed wax in the shape of the Saunders Empires logo.
Fancy
, I smirked as I carefully broke the seal, my heart beating wildly. I hoped they had changed their minds and were offering me a job. I would certainly swallow my pride, dust off my bruised ego, and accept the job without question. I pulled a card out of the envelope.

What caught my eyes first was the gold lettering and gold borders on the card. The gold was probably real gold. My eyes focused on the words on the card.

Dear Ms. Sara Nolles,

It is my pleasure to invite you to the Saunders Empire private annual ball. As you are aware, this is an event for the most elite men and women in our country.

I enjoyed your company last time we met and hope you will join me again.

Your invitation package will be delivered within the next twenty hours. We eagerly await your response.

Sincerely,

Nick Saunders

I read the card over and over again, wondering what I was missing. Then I started picking apart the phrases. They must have made a mistake. For all the money and resources Saunders Empire had, they couldn't keep their guest list correct? Yeah, granted I had interned there, but how did I end up on their guest list? Did someone who knew me when I was there include me on the list?

Me, a part of the elite group of men and women? Elite men and women! Is that a joke? I can't even get a job with an elite man or woman, whatever the heck elite meant. I imagined elite meant "rich and stuck up," men who listed "playboy" as a hobby and women who hired maids to brush their hair and apply their makeup. This had to be a case of mistaken identity. Perhaps there was a Sara Nolles somewhere on their guest list and our names and address had crossed.

And what the heck did he mean by he had enjoyed my company? What exactly did the real Sara Nolles do for him? I only saw Nick Saunders once during my internship, and he had been presenting to a room full of his employees. He would never have noticed me tucked all the way in the back, and even if he had noticed me, I prided myself on not being the type of woman playboys like him dated – rich, skinny, obnoxious women. Nick’s reputation for having an insatiable appetite for women preceded him, and I did not want to be on his list.

I read the card again as I walked to my bed. I would call the next day and inform the company of their error. I was not elite, and the card was certainly not for this Sara Nolles.

NICK

Nick stared at the picture of the woman who had remained in his mind since the day she had served him coffee at a downtown coffee shop. She had looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place where they had met because he knew nothing would have stopped him from making a move on her whenever they met.

She was one of those women he hated to admit were irresistible, the type he hated because they were too proud to admit their need of him and made the chase too hard. He had his private detective scoop her out once he’d left the coffee shop, and it hadn’t been hard to pin her down. Within hours, he knew everything he needed to know about her, including the fact that she had interned with him years ago. How had he missed her? So unlike him to let someone who looked like that get away without getting her into his infamous bed.

He flipped the pages of her file, re-reading her life for the millionth time. She had just been dumped by her boyfriend of four years and lived downtown in a dingy apartment. He had to get to her. Initially, he had planned to approach her straight, but he knew a woman like that was not one to be approached without a plan. Then he thought about using her friend to get to her, but that was cliché. Who still talked to girls through their friends? That was so last century.

He looked at her picture again, letting himself drown in her hazel eyes. Really pretty, definitely sexy face –a woman who stood out from all the girls he had dated– long, black, luscious curls that he wanted to get his hands into, lips so succulent he could only imagine kissing them until she moaned his name, and an attitude bigger than her delicate though curvy frame. She had to be his. No other way around it.

When she had served him coffee without an ounce of recognition, he knew she was going to be hard to get.

“Hello, welcome to Pixies,” she had said. “How may I help you?”

“Coffee.”

“What type of coffee, sir? We have several different varieties.” Her hazel eyes had stared into his, and in that moment, there had been an instant attraction. Her eyes never left his gaze, and he was not one to back down from a woman.

“What would you recommend?” he asked, momentarily forgetting that he only drank dark espresso.

“Well, how do you like your coffee? Sweet, strong, dark?” she asked, her gaze still on him.

Sweet would be awesome
, he thought.
Sweet like her lips
? His eyes had moved to her lips but found their way back to her eyes. She was certainly beautiful, and if he had to guess her age, maybe twenty-three? Twenty-five? Maybe she was too young for his thirty years of age. He should probably back down while he could.

“I’ll take whatever you recommend,” he had told her and hoped he didn’t regret it. It was only coffee, after all. No harm could be done.