by L. Steele
The Billionaire's Fake Fiancée
Big Bad Billionaires
L. Steele
Published by 13 Suns, 2018.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
THE BILLIONAIRE'S FAKE FIANCÉE
First edition. April 1, 2018.
Copyright © 2018 L. Steele.
ISBN: 978-1386702597
Written by L. Steele.
THE BILLIONAIRE’S FAKE FIANCÉE
L. STEELE
13 Suns
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Epilogue
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* * *
Sienna
One second you think you have everything, only to lose it all the next. I lean out of the window of the penthouse of The 99, the newest condominium in Silicon Valley. Take a deep breath.
I'd gambled everything on this start-up, and failed.
The iron band around my chest tightens, and I swallow the sickness that threatens to rise.
Take the deal, Sienna.
No, I can't. To do so will go against everything I am. I'll be giving up control of my business. My life. Lose the very independence that made me want to become an entrepreneur.
To strike out on my own in the cut throat world of Silicon Valley where start-ups are struggling to stay alive.
"Have you decided yet?" Jace’s clipped English accent scrapes the edges of my nerves.
Feet square on the ground, I turn. Those silver-green eyes slam into me with the force of a physical punch. The sparks in them glow, yet, his features stay flat.
I'm just another business transaction.
The breeze from the open window ruffles his thick hair. Over six feet tall, he towers above me.
The title of 'Angel Investor’ fits Jace Walker and not only in the conventional Silicon Valley sense.
Broad shoulders clad in a crisp long-sleeved shirt. Flat stomach hinting at hidden muscles. Formal trousers mold his strong, well-shaped, thighs. Leanly built, like a runner. With those high cheekbones and strong jaw, he could well be a fallen angel.
His eyes gleam against burnished skin in an unusual combination. As surprising as the basketball hoop strung up next to his desk.
This man likes to play.
He's playing with me now. Offering me a deal he knows I must accept. If I don't, I lose everything I've built up over the last three years.
"Do you always do that?" His husky voice slides over my nerve endings.
"What?"
His eyes drop to my mouth and I redden. I'm biting my nails. A dead giveaway that I'm nervous.
Damn.
Dropping my hand to my side, I clench it into a fist.
"You'll invest a million dollars in my start-up if I spend a week with you?"
Unreal.
He tilts his head in agreement. Those eyes follow my every move, studying my reaction.
"It's a good deal," his voice coaxes.
One side of his lips lifts in a smile.
His charisma hits me, and I blink. This guy is lethal, with the kind of presence that'll always draw attention.
"Just small change for you." My voice is sharp with disbelief, a reminder to myself that I'm at his mercy.
After being shown the door by more than fifty potential investors, this is the first glimmer of hope I've had.
Jace Walker is one of the most eccentric investors in the Valley. He picks projects that capture his imagination, ones that don't always make financial sense at face value. I'm still surprised that he's even agreed to meet me, let alone offered to invest in my failing start-up.
And yet I can't bring myself to accept.
Why is he not offering this as a simple business loan with a high interest rate? Why attach this insane condition to it?
I have a month to pay back my debtors, or I forfeit everything. My office, my rented studio-apartment. Even my car, I remind myself. Biting the inside of my lips, I swallow down the emotions churning inside. I must stay focused. Keep my mind sharp to hold my own against this guy.
"You don't think I'm just going to hand the money over, do you? I also need some guarantee on the returns."
"The idea for my app is brilliant," I snap back. "Nothing else in the market draws up horoscopes based on people's profile pictures, then matches them to find their perfect partner."
Do our horoscopes match?
Where had that thought come from?
"An interesting premise. You just don't have enough business sense to make it a success."
I bristle, but he cuts the air with his palm in an authoritative gesture.
"If you did, you wouldn't have had to come to me."
That shuts me up.
He's right. I've let things get this far out of hand. But then, I never can do things halfway. If I believe in something, I throw caution to the wind and jump right in. I’m just not sure if I want the same in my personal life.
"Don't look so glum. A few days in London never hurt anyone. All you have to do is play the part of my girlfriend at a family wedding."
Wedding? Family? My stomach churns.
At five, an American couple had found me wandering the streets of Bombay, with no memory of my past life. My adoptive father had saved me from being run over by a car.
I'll be forever grateful to them for giving me a new life, and yet … I still wonder about my real parents.
No, thinking about family, any family, is not my favorite pastime.
Some of my dismay must have shown, for he says, "My father has his faults, but he doesn't stint when it comes to throwing a party."
He keeps a straight face as I try to make out if he's simply leading me on with this proposal. But he seems to mean it.
"Besides, it's one of those society shindigs you women love," he adds.
"Shindigs?" I echo, struggling to keep my voice neutral.
"Yep," he nods. "The cream of London society will be there. The media will be all over it, the paparazzi trying to sneak pictures of the wedding. You'll meet some very powerful people," he adds. "With the connections you make, you could raise more funding … even snag a rich husband."
Great, so it's not like this trip is going to stay secret; it's going to be out there for the world to see.
I'm also disappointed in Jace. I thought I'd seen intelligence in
those eyes. Yet here he is, consigning me to the stereotype of a woman and what her place in the world should be. I'd been sure he was smarter than that.
And yet, something about him reaches out to me, pulls at me. I shove aside the pinpricks of awareness that dance across my skin.
I don't want to be attracted to this man.
"When your father runs Britain's largest media company, such shindigs must be an everyday occurrence for you," I say, my voice sharp.
His eyes narrow, and he shrugs. "No reason you can't take advantage of the opportunity when you are there."
"Don't you have a girlfriend? An ex? Someone else?" My voice is desperate in my last-ditch resort to get out of this crazy scheme.
Besides, I want to understand his intentions. Why is he suggesting such an unusual arrangement?
"You need the money. You'll do as I say, no questions asked." His voice is taut.
Ah. There it is. The smugness that comes from knowing he has me in his control. He wants to control, to manipulate. Wants someone who does as she is told.
"So what does being your girlfriend involve?"
A flash of amusement in those silver-green eyes. He takes a step forward, another. "Intimate kisses."
That pine and cloves scent of his cuts straight to my core. "Whatever it takes to convince the world that we are lovers."
He's so close now the heat leaps off his body to wrap itself around me.
"Why don’t you come out and say it?" My words whisper out on a gasp. "Sex for money, is that it?"
The thought sparks a melting inside, one that confuses me.
I want this man. I may have even considered sleeping with him if he hadn't taken advantage of my helplessness, offered me this crazy deal.
"I won't do anything... not unless you ask me to." His voice is clear. Face innocent.
Yeah, right.
He runs his gaze over my body, and my nipples tighten. Dammit, he hasn't even touched me, and I'm half mad, out of my mind with wanting him.
If I give in to all his demands, I'll also give up every single shred of pride I have left.
"So, we have a deal?" His tone is cajoling, persuasive.
"No." I cut off the only means of salvaging my future.
2
Sienna
* * *
Silence in the penthouse. Outside a jet flies overhead, cutting through the space between us.
"Excuse me?" he grates out.
"No," I say, my voice thin yet firm. Folding my arms across my chest, nails digging into my forearms, I shake my head. "I can't do it."
A flash of pure anger ripples over his features, tightening them so his cheekbones stand out.
My heart trembles. But I will not give in. Not yet. I need the deal alright, but I must structure it to my benefit.
"If you don't take this offer, not only will you lose your start-up ... but―" he pauses for effect, "―you'll have let down your sister."
The words hang between us. My throat closes, heart thudding against my rib cage. "How did you know?" My voice comes out hoarse.
"Bella. Straight A's, brilliant student. And a gifted athlete." At his words, a trickle of sweat drips down my back.
Bella. My lovely, talented sister who'd got admission into the filmmaking program at UCLA, the one she's been working toward the past few years. After my adoptive father died, my mother struggled to make ends meet.
Jace is right. Without this deal I can't pay Bella's university fees. She'd have to miss the course, and that would shatter her.
I owe it to her to see this through.
I hate that Jace holds all the cards.
One day, I'll turn the tables on this man, I promise myself.
Then another thought strikes me. "You had me watched?" Even as I say it, I know it's true. "You knew I was coming today?"
"I had you researched thoroughly." He lets that sink in. "You fit the profile of the person I was looking for."
"And what is that?" I ask. Voice low. A slow burn of annoyance in the pit of my stomach.
"Attractive, intelligent, with a thirst for new experiences. Open enough to not be scared from the unusual. Yet also desperate to make it in the Valley at any cost."
Desperate enough to take his deal.
Hearing myself slotted so neatly into a pigeon-hole strikes at the very core of who I am: someone who refuses to be pegged. I will not be restrained.
He's right, though. I have a weakness for new experiences. Ask me to try something for a first time, and I can never say no. I decide right then I'm going to surprise him, shock him out of his 'billionaire' comfort zone.
He had the proposal lined up even before meeting me. Confident that I'd accept the deal. It didn't have anything to do with him wanting to invest in my start-up.
This has been about him all along. Him needing someone he could control. Anger flares to life, a bitter taste in my mouth.
I lean over and slap him.
Gold ignites in those silver-green eyes.
Silence. I'm not sorry I slapped him. Yet, the sensible part of me insists this is not going to help me at all.
A strange expression on his face, grudging respect.
"I deserved that," he drawls. Lips quirk in a self-deprecating smile. A first genuine smile.
It throws me. Makes me wary. This man is potent, disarming when he turns on the charm.
"I'm sorry," I lie.
"Your temper's going to make things a lot more interesting in the next few days," he growls, voice predatory.
No missing the unmistakable sexual meaning of his words.
A sharp curl of desire twists my stomach.
"I mean no harm." He holds up his hands.
A gesture meant to placate.
I trust him as much as a wild jaguar.
"Agree to the deal, and I'll ensure the first installment of half a million hits your account before the end of the day. More than enough to pay off your urgent business debts. And your sister's fees."
Bella had been born five years after my parents adopted me. My baby sister is the light of my life.
Oh. He knows exactly what to say to get me to agree. I resent being manipulated this way, and yet ... what choice do I have?
I know when I've been out maneuvered. But at least Bella will be fine and so will my team, for now.
Holding onto that thought, I jerk my head. "I'll do it," I say, voice cold. Even as my heart stutters in nervousness.
He tilts his head, acknowledging my response. Did a flicker of relief cross his features?
He needs me to do this more than he's letting on.
"On one condition," I add.
His jaw hardens.
"Separate bedrooms," I burst out before I lose my nerve.
He snaps back, "Same suite. Same bed. We must keep the pretense up behind closed doors too. We'll be at a hotel and staff talk. We have to ensure no word of this arrangement gets out, not even a whiff."
His voice is authoritative, brooks no argument. End of discussion.
I blink.
How dare he command me?
If he paid for my time, I'll have to do as he says, no questions asked, over the next week.
That part of me that hates being constrained resists. No. I can't let him have so much power over me.
And yet, that hidden, treacherous part of me so attracted to him leaps to life. The thought of sleeping in the same bed as him... How would it feel to have those fingers on my skin? Sliding down the curve of my waist, toward the dip of my—
Don't go there.
"My lawyer will swing by your place this evening with the agreement, including a non-disclosure clause." He keeps his voice casual but I sense the underlying tension.
Yeah, he wants this formalized before I change my mind. Makes me wonder why he's so desperate to have a girlfriend accompany him on this trip. I'm going to find out.
"No part of this conversation is to be mentioned to anyone. Not your close friends or family or even ex-boyfriends."
Emphasis on the last word sets my teeth on edge. "And no speaking to the press, of course."
"Yeah, I get it. I'm not stupid," I mutter, anger crawling up my spine. I hate feeling so helpless.
"No, you're not." He holds out his hand.
I don’t take it. Don't even respond to the gesture.
No change of expression in his face. He only cares that I've accepted his proposal. My feelings don't come into this equation.
"We leave in two days." His voice is matter of fact.
"So soon?" I squeak.
"Yeah." He runs his fingers through his hair. "We fly out, spend a couple of days with the family. The wedding is on Sunday night."
I almost choke. An entire week in close quarters with this man? Seven days of pretending I'm in love with him, can't live without him...even as I resist this strange pull I feel toward him.
Hell.
Unaware of the emotions churning inside, he continues, "You also can't bring your personal phone or your laptop or be in touch with anyone these next few days."
"What?"
He's mad.
"To avoid any temptation of photos, emails, telling anyone else where you are or what you're up to," he says. "We need to keep media attention out of this completely."
"You're cutting me off from the world? Don't trust me?" I'm only half kidding.
His reaction doesn't disappoint.
