Single Dad's Fake Bride: A Virgin and Billionaire Romance

by Nikki Chase

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “Oh, Rafe. You know Uncle Bill is not going to like that.”

  She’s right; my father doesn’t want me around for important decisions, afraid I’m going to do something crazy, like show up high as a kite, even though I’ve never indulged during work hours.

  “Oh, I know,” Diana says as she gets up. “Talk to him at your parents’ wedding anniversary party. He’ll be in a good mood and he’ll be more inclined to listen, especially if you bring your fiancée along. I know he’s really excited about meeting her.”

  “That’s…actually not a bad idea,” I admit.

  “I’m a genius when it comes to this stuff. Trust me, timing is everything.” Diana saunters away but stops mid-way. She turns toward me and says, “Oh, and the proposal? I think you should do it after Seth’s wedding. She’ll be in the mood for some romance. And don’t forget. I still want those pictures from the wedding!”

  Diana flashes me a grin before she walks out of my office and closes the door behind her.

  My big mouth has gotten me into trouble many, many times in my life. More times than I can count. But it has also gotten me out of trouble a bunch of times.

  This time, I don’t know if I’m digging a hole for myself or paving a path toward everything I’ve ever wanted.

  I check my calendar. Seth’s wedding is in three days. I should call him and give him a heads up.

  “Hello,” he says with his usual gruff tone when he picks up.

  “Hey, Seth. Tell Alice I’ll bring a plus-one to the wedding, okay?” I ask, getting to the point.

  There’s nobody in my life who knows all there is to know about me, but Seth comes pretty close. He doesn’t pry and he knows when to leave me alone—which, strangely, only makes me want to tell him stuff.

  “Alice won’t be happy,” he warns.

  Seth’s fiancée has asked about whether I’m taking anyone to the wedding, and I said no. Now, three days before the actual wedding, I call to change my mind. Yeah, she’s probably not going to be thrilled, but I know she’ll prepare me an extra spot anyway.

  “Yeah, well, can’t please everyone all the time, right?” I say.

  “Okay, I’ll let her know. Just don’t do anything weird at my wedding,” Seth says in a threatening tone. That voice may work for everyone else, but I’m immune to it.

  “Come on, I don’t go around doing weird stuff at weddings.” I frown. “Wait, what is it that you think I’ll do?”

  “I don’t know, take her to an empty room and fuck?”

  “I told you, it was that one time. And it wasn’t during your wedding. And it wasn’t in some random empty room; it was specifically in her room.” I may have slept with a member of Seth’s house staff, but that’s all in the past. He never fails to bring it up, though. “I promise you, I won’t do anything weird.”

  “Okay,” Seth says.

  “Cool. How’s everything going so far? Cold feet?”

  “Nope.”

  “Good. See you at the wedding. Thank Alice for me.”

  See? No questions asked. I like that guy.

  I don’t know what I would’ve done in prison if I got stuck with someone else. All things considered, I was lucky to have ended up having Seth as my cellmate, instead of some hardened, violent gang member.

  We come from similar backgrounds, and we survived prison together. Now, we share an unbreakable, inimitable bond. We stick together.

  I used to help him out with his life’s work, fighting against human trafficking. But he needs less help now, and I’m more serious about getting back into the family business.

  I still visit him from time to time, even though he lives a long way away from the city. I’m surprised he could find a wife, considering how isolated his life is.

  It shouldn’t be too hard for me to find a girl who’s willing to pretend to be my girlfriend…

  I do have quite a few numbers on my phone I can call, but I’ve only ever called those numbers for one reason. Yeah, you’ve guessed it. Booty calls.

  The problem is finding someone who’s not crazy, annoying, or scarily obsessed with me. I keep a distance from those girls for a reason. I can’t imagine putting an engagement ring on any one of them without giving them the wrong idea.

  Twenty-one. Student. Musician. Not crazy.

  There’s only one girl who fits those criteria. Well, I’ve only talked to her for a few minutes so I don’t really know if she’s crazy, but she doesn’t look crazy.

  Piper’s my best chance right now. And frankly, I get excited at the thought of spending more time with her.

  We can have some fun together, going to a wedding and to my parents’ anniversary, maybe share a few nights in bed. Then, we’ll part ways and she’ll just be my tenant again.

  I don’t want any complications. I’ve let my feelings get me into trouble in the past.

  I’m older and wiser now. I know exactly how to handle this so I’ll get what I want out of Piper without exposing myself to too much danger.

  End of preview.

  Thank you for reading!

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  Bonus: Guilty

  A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

  Prologue

  What just happened?

  Everything’s dark. Black.

  There is some red too, running down my face, turning my vision into a pink, hazy blur.

  Out of nowhere, a completely irrelevant thought slips into my mind: This is probably not what people have in mind when they say “rose-tinted glasses.”

  There’s more red splattered on the ground, countless little droplets of it covering tiny shards of glass.

  I can even taste that red in my mouth. It’s a lot like rust.

  Water.

  I need water. I need to wash down that metallic taste.

  But where?

  I need to get up and fix this. Whatever’s happening, it’s not good.

  I focus on the tips of my fingers and will them to move.

  Why is it so hard? It shouldn’t be this hard.

  With horror, I watch my fingers twitch weakly through my foggy vision.

  That’s the best I can do? When I’m exerting all my strength?

  Help. Somebody.

  I need help.

  Is there even anybody around?

  Everything within my eyesight is covered by a pink cloud.

  It’s like one of those pictures that people take with expensive cameras where everything in the background is unclear.

  Except my sense of sight is not supposed to show still pictures. My eyes are supposed to be able to refocus.

  But all I can see are my hands, just inches from my face. And I can’t even move them.

  God. Whatever this is, I hope it’s temporary.

  Sometimes, in my more morbid moments, I’ve thought about which of my five senses would be the worst to lose. The answer is always eyesight.

  I wouldn’t mind losing my hearing as much. At least as a deaf person I’d still be able to walk places.

  It all feels like a joke right now, because none of my five senses is working.

  I feel like I’m underwater. I can’t see or hear anything. Not clearly, anyway.

  I can still breathe, although my lungs feel like they’ve been crushed. I once watched this show on Discovery Channel with old cars being flattened into cubes by huge metal plates. That’s kinda like how my lungs feel right now.

  But I’m still breathing, so I’m probably above ground. That’s one good thing, at least.

  My ears are ringing. Instead of the cacophony of noises I’m used to hearing in the city, there’s just a single high-pitched tone.

  Wait.

  Is someone touching my arm?

  I can’t see any moving shadows in front of me. Whoever’s touching me must be behind me.

  I close my eyes and strain my ears to listen.

/>   “…okay.” A woman’s voice. It sounds close and far away at the same time.

  I force my mouth to open and manage to let out a small groan.

  The hand on my bare arm strokes my skin soothingly.

  “You’ve been…going to be okay…hospital…”

  I can only make out a few words. Sounds like they’re the important words, though.

  My heart is still racing, but cold anxiety slowly drains out of my body when someone throws a soft blanket over me. I let the warmth seep into my skin as my thoughts drift away to a happier place.

  Chapter 1

  Cole

  “Hi, Cole.” A girl appears from the darkness and hooks her hand around my arm. “Long time no see.”

  Three minutes. A personal time record from just walking through the door of a bar to having some girl attach herself to my person.

  “I’ve been busy,” I say. I don’t remember her, but then I don’t remember most girls. I sit down at the bar and she follows, planting her ass on the high stool next to mine.

  “I’ve missed you,” she says, pouting her glossy pink lips and fluttering her fake eyelashes. Studying her face, I wonder if she’d be more attractive without all those layers of make-up. “Where have you been?”

  “Well, I’m here now,” I say. I raise one hand to catch the bartender’s attention. Maybe if I ignore her she'll leave me alone. “Does it matter where I’ve been?”

  “Not really,” she says, pulling my upper arm closer and pressing them between her tits, which are almost spilling over her black corset. “It’s just been so boring without you.”

  I give her a polite smile, and she blushes and looks away. What is it with girls who hit on you and then act all coy when you’re only trying to be friendly? It’s fake as fuck.

  But then again, what isn’t fake these days? Fake girls with fake lashes, fake tits, fake lips, and fake personalities. I haven’t admitted this to anybody, but I may be getting too old for this shit.

  I should be worried. I’m only twenty-seven, after all. And I happen to have a reputation. Some people would be seriously concerned about my well-being if they heard about me losing interest in women.

  I usually take pride in the quality of my work with the ladies. I get drunk on hearing my name on the lips of naked, sweat-covered, writhing women as they scream out prayers and profanities all at once.

  They’d rave to their friends about their toe-curling orgasms. That’s how I get a stellar track record and repeat customers.

  Business and women — they’re not so different after all.

  I just find myself preoccupied with the former rather than the latter lately, especially now that I have my own project that’s separate from the family business, and it’s beginning to take off.

  “Hey, Mr. Big Shot,” Shelley says as she approaches me from behind the bar. She glances at the girl hanging possessively on my arm and shoots me a sympathetic look. “The usual tonight?”

  “You know it. And whatever this lady wants.” I’ve been taught to always offer a round to company when I drink. If my mother were still alive, she would’ve found it unbearably rude of me if I didn’t offer the girl a drink.

  “A Macallan coming right up,” Shelley says. She turns her attention to the girl. “And for you?”

  “Cosmopolitan,” she says as she tightens her possessive hold around my arm. I was hoping to have a quiet, relaxing drink tonight, but I guess that’s not going to happen now.

  “Good choice,” Shelley says.

  Tall and statuesque with a supermodel strut, Shelley must make women jealous all the time. We had some fun as friends with benefits years ago. Those were good times. The benefits disappeared when she met her boyfriend, but the friendship remains.

  That’s the perfect relationship in my books. No fuss, no drama, and no messy loose ends.

  Too many girls think “just sex” really means “it’s only a matter of time before we fall madly in love with each other.” And then when I don’t catch feelings on their schedule, somehow I’m the bad guy. Don’t blame me for sticking to the initial agreement.

  And that’s why the girl sitting next to me now is a no go, even if I were in the mood tonight. Everything about her screams “trouble.”

  She has the crazy eyes. I have no doubt in my mind that she’d be one of those girls who’d end up trying to stab me with the kitchen knife or dousing herself in gasoline just to get some attention. I’ve had too many close calls with her kind to ever give it another try.

  Seeing my pained expression, Shelley suppresses a smile. She slides the drinks onto the counter and takes the bills in my hand. Her eyes glint with cheer when she checks out how much I’m tipping. Maybe Shelley only likes me for my generous tips, but it doesn’t matter. Everybody uses everybody else in some way.

  “Just so you know, Rick’s here.” She winks. That’s one perk of having Shelley on my side — excellent service from someone who knows exactly what I want.

  I mouth her a silent thank you before she turns around and walks away to serve the fat middle-aged guy who has been leering at her ass and shouting obnoxiously to get her attention.

  That’s a special kind of workplace hazard that attractive bartenders all over the world suffer. Shelley once admitted that it’s annoying, but she gets more tips when she dresses up in revealing clothes, and the money makes it worthwhile.

  A few seats further from the dirty old man, I spot Rick, partially hidden in the shadows.

  “Hey, Rick!” I wave at him and motion for him to come over. He grins and picks up his drink. A few people turn to look at him when he stands up to his full height.

  “Hey, man,” he says as he takes a seat beside the girl who’s still hanging on my arm, his shoulders hunched over his drink. “How’s life?”

  “Oh, you know. No rest for the wicked.”

  “Your father keeping you busy, huh?”

  “As usual,” I say.

  I don’t have many friends, and Rick is not exactly a friend, but we do sometimes bump into each other here at The Amber Room and chat about stuff.

  “Have you met this lady?” I gesture toward the girl, hoping she doesn’t catch on to the fact that I don’t remember her name. But even if she does, I’m not going to lose any sleep over it.

  “No, I can’t say that I have.” Rick extends a hand toward her. “Hi, I’m Rick.”

  “Angela,” she says, shaking his hand.

  “I’ve seen you around here before,” Rick says, giving her his signature smile.

  “Yeah,” Angela says. “I do come here quite a lot.”

  “How do you know Cole?” Rick maintains eye contact with Angela. Despite his height-related awkwardness, Rick has never had a problem getting laid, thanks to his disarming charm and natural interest in people.

  “Oh.” She looks down, seemingly studying the knots in the solid wood bar counter in front of us. “We, uh, met here.”

  “I see,” Rick says, giving me a quick wink before turning his attention back to her. “Just like we just have.”

  “I guess so,” Angela giggles. She slowly loosens her grip on my arm and I inch away from her, letting Rick’s charm do its magic.

  I knew Rick was going to distract her. The guy gets along with everybody. And he’s always up for a chat — or more — with any decent-looking girl.

  I wait for a few minutes before making a big show out of checking the watch on my wrist.

  “Hey, you guys have fun. I need to be somewhere else now.” I exhale loudly to make it seem like I hate having to leave.

  I’m not crazy about talking business with my father, but it has to be better than this boring small talk.

  “Oh, already?” Rick says the words he’s supposed to say, but he knows I planned to ditch them from the beginning. He’s obviously glad to have some alone time with Angela.

  “Yeah.” I pull out my phone and see there are already three text messages from my father. “They’re probably already waiting for me.”
>
  “Alright man,” Rick says. “See you around.”

  “See you,” I say. “Good to see you again, Angela.”

  I turn around without waiting for her reply. It’s hard to read her expression in the dark, and I don’t care about anything she has to say anyway. I breathe a sigh of relief as I make my way toward the exit.

  And that’s when I see her.

  She’s all legs, with a tight little ass and perky tits. Her slender body is wrapped in a skin-tight, knee-length red dress with a black ribbon around her waist that forms a bow at the front. Just the right balance between sexy and classy.

  Damn. She looks like a present ready for me to unwrap.

  She has voluminous blonde waves so glossy I’m sure they’d feel like heaven wrapped around my fist. Full lips that would look so fucking sexy gasping in the night air when I expose her long neck and bite down.

  An overwhelming urge comes over me. I want to grab both her arms, pin her to the wall, and take her right there, in front of everyone. It’s been a long time since a woman elicited that kind of reaction from me. I can feel myself growing hard in my pants.

  I stop my legs from automatically following her. Don’t be crazy, I tell myself.

  I glance at my watch again. The little metal hands glow in the dim light, telling me I’m already fifteen minutes late.

  “Fuck,” I curse under my breath. I can already hear Pop’s voice telling me to think with my big head, not my small one. And I haven’t even done anything to warrant his lecture tonight.

  When I look up, she’s gone. As I scan the room, I can only see the usual faces in the dim light of The Amber Room.

  I have no choice but to leave now. Walking out into the balmy spring air, I swear I’ll find her again. She’s awakened my hunting instinct.

  Chapter 2

  Emily

  EIGHTEEN MONTHS LATER

  I look up at the stars winking in the velvet sky. I study the colors. It’s beautiful, the way the stars bleach the space around them almost white, and the way the sky gradually changes from light blue, to dark navy, and then to almost inky black.