San Antonio's Finest Eligibles

by Tee, Marian

  It was only when the train's liveried conductor announced that lunch would soon be served that Tabitha's former co-workers temporarily relinquished his wife's attention, and he waited until her searching gaze found his before crooking a finger at her. Come.

  A helpless smile formed over her lips. So arrogant.

  But her feet moved all the same, and her heart skipped a beat as his arms closed around her.

  Green eyes glittered sensually down at Bee, and her heart skipped another beat.

  My cowboy angel, she couldn't help thinking.

  And he was married to her.

  Nicholas chuckled at the adoring look on his wife's face. "I'm still The World's Sexiest Husband, I take it?"

  "Not only that," she said loyally, "but your pedestal's about twenty-five feet high now, too."

  He had to bend his head down to kiss her for that, and as with how their kisses always went, it lasted a good amount of time and required an equally good amount of strength for him to end it.

  "The rest is for later," he promised her, "and if you're a good girl, I might be persuaded to spanking your ass harder than usual."

  "Nicholas!" But as he curled an arm around her waist, he also heard her ask hesitantly, "How hard are we talking about?"

  And so it was how the world had their first photo of Nicholas Sutherland laughing while his young wife blushed prettily next to him.

  The End

  Bought by the Billionaire Rancher

  Book Four

  A nanny with the boss' wedding ring...

  Billionaire oil baron Logan Hardwall may be the last bachelor standing among San Antonio's Finest Eligibles, aka SAFE, but it didn't mean he was ready to get leg-shackled like his other friends and believe in all that true love sh*t.

  When he suddenly found himself in need of a wife to take care of his orphaned nephew, Logan began his hunt for the perfect mail-order bride. She had to be good with kids, but she also had to understand her place in his life, and that was not as his loving wife.

  She might warm his bed, wear his wedding ring, and be able to spend his money at will, but other than that...she was just the nanny, and that was all she would ever be.

  Chapter One

  Harry, that bitch. Caryn, her boss' wife, had the tendency to mutter the words every time she was in a bad mood. It had Tilly so curious that she actually logged in to her dormant-for-years account on Facebook, just to see who this Harry could be.

  It took a lot of snooping and digging, but she eventually found the person she was looking for, and Harry turned out to be someone previously employed by Sweet Life The real estate agency was where Caryn also used to work, before having met Tilly's boss and eventually becoming Mrs. Lionel Hodge.

  Harry, on the other hand, had apparently quit working for similar reasons, but while Caryn ended up married to a seventy-year-old millionaire, the other girl had tied the knot with none other than Devon Montgomery, a thirty-something billionaire who was as devilishly handsome as Mr. Hodge was wrinkly.

  Having seen Harry's photos, Tilly had no problems guessing why Caryn seemed to violently dislike her former colleague. Caryn was drop-dead gorgeous in every sense of the word while Harry was the cute and curvy girl-next-door type. Vain as she was, Caryn no doubt thought it should've been her who had ended a handsome billionaire's wife.

  "God, I hate that bitch."

  And there she went again, Tilly thought while working on the garnish of the pasta salad she was about to serve.

  The kitchen in the Hodges' home had an open layout, allowing Tilly to observe the two women seated at the dining table as they went through photos posted by a website dedicated to San Antonio's high society.

  "She really is an eyesore, isn't she? I mean, God, would you look at the size of those hips?" Lena, Caryn's best friend, seemed to take the cattiest amount of pleasure in her observation. "I won't blame Devon Montgomery if he feels like he's going to bed with a whale every time he sees her without his clothes."

  Tilly managed not to roll her eyes as she loaded the plates on the tray. Horrible, horrible witches, she thought disapprovingly as she started serving the women their salad. Under their glamorous disguises, with their salon-styled tresses and on-point makeup, that was all Caryn and Lena were, and it was probably why God couldn't yet bless them with men who looked as good as their bank accounts.

  "Look at that smile, Len." Caryn practically broke a nail as she furiously jabbed at the couple's photo on her cellphone's screen. "He's obviously faking it."

  "I know, right?" Lena wrinkled her nose in distaste. "I mean, let's face it. Whatever reasons he has for that mail-order bride thing? It's obvious he's realized that they weren't enough to tie himself with a cow for the rest of his life."

  Tilly's ears perked up as she walked back to the kitchen. Mail-order bride thing?

  "I called up Heart's Match, the agency who arranged their marriage? They totally wouldn't talk to me and even threatened legal action if I ever spoke about that bitch in public."

  "Oh my gosh, the nerve!"

  "I know, right?" Caryn's voice was full of bitter resentment. "Honestly, I think that company's a total scam. Like they're really in it for true love."

  "It's always about the money," Lena derided. "But you'll see, Car. That woman's not going to last in those circles. Sooner or later, someone will tell it to her face that she'll never fit in—-"

  Caryn suddenly sat up. "Oh my God, I just have the most fantastic idea. What if we write anonymously to the press, let them know about the ugly truth behind their marriage? Can you just imagine what it would do to her?"

  Tilly couldn't believe what she was hearing. Harry hadn't done anything to either of these two, and yet Caryn and Lena were virtually cackling in glee as they started plotting how to ruin the other woman's life.

  Witches. They really were witches, and with that thought in mind, she slid her phone out and quickly typed Heart's Match on Google's search bar before dropping the phone back into her apron pocket.

  The one time Caryn had caught Tilly using her phone, the woman had slapped her in the face and yelled at her for being a 'lazy pig.' She had tried explaining that she was on her lunch break, but when it only seemed to enrage Caryn further, Tilly had realized she was only wasting her breath and simply chalked up the whole thing to experience.

  Although Tilly's shift was supposed to end at six in the evening, it was almost a quarter to eight when she was finally able to leave the house, having had to prepare one last round of cocktails for Caryn and Lena.

  Having already sent out a couple of feelers to various tabloids, the two had started drinking to their success, and the memory had Tilly mentally grimacing. Witches, she thought again, and as soon as she was out of the Hodges' home, she quickly took her phone out to see if Google had come up with any leads.

  There were two relevant search results, and Tilly's brows furrowed at the rather deceptive difference between the two. One website was named Heart's Match and then another one was called Hearts' Match.

  Hmm.

  If she ended up sending a message to the wrong company, she also risked exposing sensitive information about the couple, which was what she was trying to prevent in the first place.

  Plan B then.

  After creating a new Facebook account, Tilly sent an anonymous message to Harry and crossed her fingers after hitting Send. Hopefully, the other woman would see it in time and nip Caryn's plans in the bud.

  Tilly's younger sister already had their dinner heated and ready on the table by the time she got back home. "Mm. Smells good."

  "It should, since you're the one who made it." A thoughtful expression flitted over Billie's face as she watched her sister kick her clogs off and wriggle her toes with a blissful sigh.

  "Let me guess," Billie said knowingly. "Caryn bullied you again, didn't you?"

  "Because I'm your older sister and I must set a good example, I'm going to lie and tell you, no, she did not bully me, and if she ever tried to do so,
I absolutely would not stand for it."

  Billie smirked. "But if you weren't my sister?"

  "Then you'd be absolutely correct." Tilly made a face when her younger sister snickered. "You're supposed to feel sympathetic, you ungrateful brat. I'm only biting my tongue around her for you."

  "Nuh uh. I told you I didn't have to go to school—-"

  Tilly let out a gasp of horror. "Mary Billie Jean! Are you saying you don't trust me to see you through until college?"

  Billie rolled her eyes. "Quit the theatrics, sis."

  "Then stop saying you're okay to quit school." She paused to feed herself a spoonful of mac & cheese before adding for good measure, "Ungrateful brat."

  "Just saying."

  "Anyway..." She briskly changed the subject. "Any good thing that happened in school today?"

  "We're tackling Romeo & Juliet in Lit."

  "Ooooh. Leo and Claire Danes. I love that movie."

  Billie tried not to grin, but it was impossible. "Most people would think of Shakespeare first."

  Tilly gazed at her sister in confusion. "Shake what?"

  Billie laughed. "You're crazy, Tilly. You really are."

  Only for you, Tilly thought even as she glowered and feigned outrage. She might not be able to give her sister the prettiest clothes or the coolest gadgets, but things she could afford, like love, care, and laughter, she made sure Billie had in abundance.

  "...Tilly?"

  She quickly refocused on her sister. "Sorry, what was that?"

  "Is it okay if I sleep over at Mitch's tomorrow? We've got this project to finish by Monday."

  "What's it about?"

  "Capitalism."

  "Wow. Back when I was in high school, capitalism was what Washington, D.C. was to America. Or - wait - is it New York now?"

  "Will you please be serious?" Billie begged between giggles.

  "I am being—-" The sudden ringing of her phone cut Tilly off, and a groan escaped her when she saw the name that flashed on its screen.

  "Who is it—-" Billie took a peek at the caller's name and scowled. "Doesn't Caryn know you don't work for them 24/7?"

  "She knows," Tilly answered with a sigh. "But she also knows I can't afford to say no. And it's not like I don't get paid for overtime."

  "Doesn't matter," Billie grumbled. "I wish you were the one who married Mr. Hodge instead—-"

  "I don't think so." Tilly couldn't help cringing at the very idea.

  "If you had—-"

  "I never would. For starters, he's totally not my type."

  "So? It's not like he's Caryn's type either."

  "He...could be." But as soon as the words were out, Tilly sent a prayer to the winds, hoping the heavens wouldn't strike her down for such a colossal lie.

  Billie's gaze bored through hers. "He's decades older than her, Tilly."

  Apparently, she had just sinned for nothing.

  Tilly lifted her chin. "So? Numbers are nothing when you're in love."

  "I respectfully disagree," Billie said loftily. "To women like Caryn, numbers are everything when they're the kind written on checks and bank balances."

  "Mary Billie Jean!" Tilly shot her sister a look of reproof. "There's no pride to be found in being a jaded little smart-butt!"

  Billie rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to turn into dust if you say the A-word, Tilly."

  Tilly ignored this, saying, "You're thirteen, not eighty."

  Billie opened her mouth to argue this, but when she saw Tilly glaring at her, the younger girl backed down with a sigh. "You win, big sis, but only because I don't want you to go back to work in a bad mood."

  Tilly wasn't satisfied. "And?"

  "And I promise—-" To pretend, Billie coughed under her breath. "I still believe in unicorns, Santa Claus, and true love."

  Tilly huffed in indignation. "I know you're making fun of me, but when you get older, you'll see," she grumbled. "The day will come you'll realize I was right: it's always better to lie to one's self. How do you think Caryn's able to sleep next to—-oh dear. What am I saying?"

  Billie burst into laughter, and the sound warmed Tilly's heart, just enough that it didn't hurt so much to leave her younger sister to lock up behind her as she took a cab back to the Hodges' gated community.

  It was already half past two in the morning by the time she came back, and despite her best tiptoeing attempts, she still ended up waking Billie the moment she entered their bedroom.

  "Is that you, Tilly?" the younger girl mumbled sleepily from her side of the bed.

  "It's me," she whispered. "Sorry I woke you up." She quickly changed into her pajamas, and as she slipped under the covers, she heard Billie mumble about her giving something a try.

  "Sorry, what was that?"

  "Do...same thing...Caryn...did." Billie let out a yawn. "Find a rich old guy to fall in love with...and then all of our problems are solved."

  "Billie..." She turned on her side to face the younger girl, but her sister was already fast asleep. Tillie flipped to her back with a sigh and stared sightlessly at their ceiling.

  Find a rich old guy to fall in love with?

  Her pride balked at the very idea, but then she thought about how fast time flew, and how at any moment Billie's medical condition, a complication caused by their mother's drinking habits during her pregnancy, could suffer a turn for the worse. If that happened, and they were still a long way from getting to the top of the recipient list for kidney transplants...what then?

  Tilly bit her lip.

  She didn't think she could ever marry for money alone, but what if...what if she found someone who would at least need her, someone who would respect her, and she could care for him in return?

  "SO...LET ME SEE IF I got everything right." The female CEO of Heart's Match eyed the billionaire's

  list of requirements for his mail-order bride. "You want someone you can trust to raise your nephew, someone who's guaranteed to see to all of his emotional needs and ensure that he doesn't grow up a spoiled, useless millennial like all other trust fund babies seem to be."

  "Precisely."

  "You also want someone who understands that you're used to a certain way of living and appreciate that it's this very busy lifestyle of yours that is able to afford you, your future wife, and nephew everything that money can buy."

  "Exactly."

  "Your fidelity is guaranteed provided you two are sexually compatible. If not, you promise to seek satisfaction through other means very discreetly while she will be additionally compensated to remain celibate until your nephew reaches eighteen years of age."

  "Perfect," Logan said approvingly. "When can I expect to meet your candidate?"

  "You mean 'paragon' right? Or maybe 'martyr' is a more accurate term?"

  "Charlotte." His tone held a note of warning.

  "But to answer your question, let me check my contacts in Heaven first. I'll need to see if they have an angel or saint to spare, since no one else is likely to agree to something so one-sided."

  Logan didn't even crack a smile. "My nephew will be with me in six weeks."

  "I know that, okay? And as much as I want to help you..." What you're asking for is something only a selfish, heartless asshole would demand. That was what Charlotte was dying to say, but because Logan was both her childhood friend and her late husband's, she managed to hold her tongue and finish with something more tactful. "It's going to be difficult."

  "But not impossible."

  Grrr. It was just so like Logan to interpret her words in the way that would benefit him. "I'll be level with you since you're my friend. With what you're asking, there can only be two kinds of women likely to agree to what you're asking."

  Logan's gaze narrowed. "Go on."

  "We'll either end up with a cold-blooded gold digger..."

  The billionaire's upper lip curled in distaste.

  "Or someone who comes with a lot of baggage."

  Logan frowned. "Exactly what kind of baggage are we talking about?"<
br />
  "No college degree, work history strictly in the domestic employment front, and she may come with a thirteen-year-old dependent who urgently needs to undergo kidney transplant surgery."

  Since the things Charlotte mentioned were too specific to be random, Logan had a feeling his friend already had someone in mind. Someone she knew he would only consider if he were desperate enough...

  "As long as she fits the mold," Logan said finally, "you can send her my way."

  Chapter Two

  It was already a few minutes past one in the morning when Hardwall Industries' corporate jet touched down at San Antonio International Airport, but a number of officials still insisted on waiting at the airfield, wanting to curry favor by welcoming Logan Hardwall in person.

  They bowed and scraped as soon as he appeared, and the billionaire was showered with even more attention as he strode inside the airport. Female ground attendants giggled upon first sight of him, and as soon as he walked past them cellphones were up in the air, the women doing their best to capture the elusive bachelor in the background of their selfies.

  Logan knew what was happening, of course, but he let it be. When his marketing team presented a report on how these occasional photos resulted into a healthier-than-usual bottom line, that was all that mattered for the self-made billionaire. Having to sacrifice a few moments of privacy was a small price to pay if it meant being able to keep his empire in the black.

  It was a long drive back home, and as soon as the limo rolled up the driveway, Logan briefly reminded his chauffeur to get some rest the next day.

  "Understood, Mr. Hardwall. Thank you, sir, and good night." Willy tipped his hat respectfully and waited until his billionaire boss disappeared behind the doors of the main house. He walked away, tired but content. Logan Hardwall might be a slavedriver to some, but one had little room to complain when the man worked twice as hard as everyone, and - more importantly - the billionaire was never stingy when it came to rewarding his employees.

  Another good day at work, all in all, Willy thought, and the chauffeur started whistling, his mind already busy thinking of the things he could spend his bonus money on.