His Virgin Bride

by Riley Rollins

  And, maybe even more importantly, this might be the only way to save my dad. So I have to do it.

  Luke blinks, and I can tell he's just as shell-shocked as I am. I like that I have this effect on him. Luke's eyes dance over my body and I feel my chest tighten. "I can't believe you're here. You do such bad things to me," he says.

  My heart beats hard inside my chest as his words reach my ears, and I wonder all over again what I'm doing here and what this all means.

  "But this engagement is purely business," I say. "Right?"

  "Yes," he says, and his eyes snap back up from my body and lock onto mine. "Yes. Of course. Purely business. So… you're ready to do this?"

  "I didn't come here to smell the flowers."

  He laughs. "Very well then. I'm so pleased to hear that, Leah." He turns around and swings the door open behind him. "Follow me."

  Luke takes me inside his house. I won't lie. I'm not into material possessions, and I would have come here whether or not he had a house like this.

  But damn. While I'm here, I'm going to get to know the property and take advantage of all its amenities. I'm not above enjoying a trip away from home, and a chance to get out of that basement that I share with Aya.

  Luke leads me through the mansion, off to a side wing that I can tell is for guests. He takes me down a long carpeted hall, with paintings and expensive-looking sculptures adorning the walls and the corners. There are two big French doors at the end of the hallway, and my breath almost leaves my chest when I realize that's where he's taking me.

  When he opens the doors, my eyes practically bulge. It's not just a bedroom, it's more like the fanciest hotel suite that I've ever seen in my life.

  There's a gigantic, king-size four-poster bed in the center of the room with white lace curtains hanging around it. Morning sunlight floods into the room from an overhead skylight. A kitchenette sits in the corner of the room, with a fully-stocked bar with drinks, snacks, pastries, and even a waffle iron.

  There's also a washer, a dryer, and a flat screen TV. I peek inside the bathroom, which looks huge. I see an enormous shower with glass walls and the edge of a hot tub that I can already imagine sinking down into.

  "Please," says Luke, waving his arm. It looks so muscular and strong through the sleeve of his suit. "Make yourself at home. Use the intercom to page a maid if you require anything while I'm gone. This will be your permanent accommodation for the duration of our contract. So feel free to settle in."

  "What's the plan, then?" I say, setting down my handbag on the floor.

  "I'll be back tonight," he says. "There's no time to waste. We'll sit down with the legal team and review and sign the contract, and we have an event to attend tonight. But right now, I'm late to the office." With a smile, he slips out the bedroom door and closes it behind him.

  Okay. This is more than a little bit insane. But as much as I'm curious to explore the property, I can't afford to do it right now. I have a book to write.

  I yawn, covering my mouth with my hand. I didn't get much sleep last night, but I can't let myself off the hook. I can't waste any more days. Not if I want to get my book done on time.

  I have to remind myself that this arrangement is only temporary. When the big decision comes down from the company board, I'll get out of here one way or another, and Luke and I will go back to the way things were before.

  Regular old dating. My old life. No crazy stuff. No engagement.

  It's not like this is some kind of fairy tale, after all. This is strictly business.

  I grab a lemon danish and a can of chilled, vanilla-flavored sparkling water from the kitchenette area, then grab my word processor out of my luggage. I kick my shoes off and hop up on the bed, ready to have a snack and write.

  But the bed is the comfiest thing I've felt in a long time, and instead of writing, I fall asleep after about ten minutes.

  "My legal team has drafted this," Luke says, handing an official-looking document to me. We sit across from one another in one of his company's conference rooms. The table is at least twenty-five feet long, with ten chairs on either side. But we're the only ones here.

  I flip through it and my jaw drops. "Twenty-five pages? So let me get this right. You not only want me to get fake engaged to you, but you want me to agree to a twenty-five-page long list of terms and conditions for this fake engagement."

  "This is business, Leah."

  "This is absurd. This is longer than the agreement when I installed Microsoft Office on my laptop last week."

  Luke grins. "Most of it is legalese that you can skip. The first page has the important stuff."

  I flip back to the first page.

  "In particular, that first paragraph," he says. "In short, it specifies that you will live together with me in my residence for the duration of the contract. And you will attend all events that I ask you to."

  He takes me through the rest of the contract, but there's nothing too crazy or surprising. I guess I'm really doing this.

  "Alright," I say, taking a deep breath. "I guess it's now or never."

  A bolt of electric arousal zaps over my skin as I think about what about to happen. I'm about to get engaged.

  This is probably the dumbest decision I've ever made. But… it's kind of exciting.

  "Well," he says, handing me a pen. "Sign on the dotted line."

  14

  Luke

  When I get home from work, I find Leah lying on her bed in the guest suite, tapping away on her phone. When we lock eyes, she gives me a look I haven't seen before. It looks like she just woke up. She looks raw, lustful, energetic, and sexual.

  It makes me want to claim her as mine.

  "Hey," I say, and she looks at me with her stormy bedroom eyes. My cock throbs. There's no way she knows, but it made me feel like a damn kid on Christmas when she showed up on my doorstep, ready to become my fiancée. And I intend to make the most of the time we'll have together here.

  I don't know what she's hoping for… but I do know what I'm hoping for.

  She sends me out of the room for a few minutes while she gets dressed. When she comes back out into the hallway, she's wearing skin-tight high-waisted jeans and a knitted sweater that's too good at hiding everything beneath it. I just want to strip it off her body and explore what's underneath.

  "I have something for you," I say. I take her hand. I practically have to will my palms not to sweat, my cock not to harden in my pants. I reach into my pocket, dig around, and pull out a small felt-covered ring box.

  Her eyes widen in surprise. "You have to be joking," she says.

  "I wouldn't joke about something this serious," I say. "No fiancée of mine is going to have anything on her finger that's less than six carats."

  She rolls her eyes. "No, I mean you must be joking that you thought I'd want a ring at all."

  "Excuse me?"

  "Fake fiancées don't wear real rings," she says, playfully shaking her hand and showing me her bare ring finger.

  I grin. "Surely you haven't forgotten already."

  She frowns. "I don't know what you mean."

  "You signed a contract. You do what I tell you." I wink at her.

  She frowns, her face turning red and pouty, in just the way that drives me crazy. "Fine. You're right. You win. I'll wear your stupid ring."

  She sticks her left hand out at me, and she also sticks out her tongue at me, making a face. I grin, and I open the box lid, showing her the ring. She pretends not to react, but I see the way her eyes drop down to it.

  "It's big, huh?" I say.

  "It's actually… really pretty," she says. She smiles. "Well, then hurry up and put it on. I don't have all day."

  I remove the ring from its box and slide it onto her finger, holding her hand in mine.

  Her fingers feel so delicate on mine. As fake as this is, it feels more real than any of the relationships I've ever had before.

  Once the ring is on her finger, she holds her hand out, studying it.

/>   "So," I say. "We have somewhere to be tonight. I hope you're ready to make your debut as my fiancée, because there's no time to rehearse this."

  She swallows hard.

  "Let's get you dressed up."

  The event is a gala. It's held at the NYC Convention Center downtown, starting at 10pm that night. It's a conference for all the heads of the major media companies, like Comcast, Netflix, Time Warner, and of course all of the major publishing houses.

  Both me and Rex are giving speeches after the dinner. My plan is to introduce Leah as my brand-new fiancée, and give a speech about how I'm ready to settle down and lead the new company. Rex may think he has this on lock, but I'm going to ruin his night and show him that he doesn't.

  We arrive in my limo fashionably late. Literally fashionably, because it took my beauticians a full two hours to cut Leah's hair, curl it, and get her sewn into the custom dress I had waiting for her.

  She sits next to me in the limo, looking nervous. I smile at her to diffuse the tension.

  "Is that… an actual red carpet?" she asks, peering out of the limo window.

  "It absolutely is."

  "I didn't realize this is what I would be getting myself into."

  I smile at her. "You'll be just fine tonight."

  She gulps. "So… what's the story?"

  I grin. "We've been dating in secret for a year. We got engaged two months ago. I did it on one knee at Dorsia. Just follow my lead."

  "Well," she says. "Here we go."

  Somehow we struggle through the photo op on the red carpet with a minimum of questioning. When the photographer takes pictures of me and Leah together, I put one hand around her waist, my fingers resting on the curve of her ass.

  To my delight, she huddles in closer to my body when I do it, and she puts her hand through my elbow just like a real fiancée would.

  I like the way it feels.

  Inside, the entire convention center has been turned into a ballroom. Round tables are set up throughout, with a main stage and a podium at the front of the room. People mingle in the lobby, sipping glasses of champagne and picking hors d'oeuvres off of platters carried around by waiters.

  I lead Leah by the hand, and I like the way she follows me. I squeeze her hand to reassure her, and I feel her six-carat diamond dig into my palm. I like the way it feels, and what it represents—that I own her. At least for now.

  We head for the table where we've been assigned seats. Dinner passes by quickly and is filled with eating, drinking, and plenty of questioning from both men and women alike. The women want to know who my new fiancée is and how I met her, and the men are downright jealous of me.

  Who could blame them? Leah looks absolutely stunning in her dress, and she's handling the table like an old pro.

  When the food finally stops coming and the flow of alcohol slows down, a jolly old-looking fellow wearing a monocle takes the stage. He introduces Rex, whose speech is scheduled right before mine.

  My jaw clenches and my teeth grind together inside my skull. I have a feeling he's going to take a shot at me tonight during his speech. The entire board of directors is in attendance tonight, and he's going to try his hardest to make me look bad in front of them.

  "Thank you, everyone," he says, "for coming out tonight."

  The mic whines.

  "As you all know, the big news in the industry is the merger of Diamond House and McMaster Publishing. Two publishing powerhouses, joined as one."

  The audience applauds.

  "And there will be only one CEO in the new company. The board of directors will pick either myself, or the CEO of Diamond House, Mr. Luke Steele."

  More applause. I grimace at the sound of my name coming off his lips.

  "But there's something you should know. Mr. Luke Steele, the CEO of Diamond House Publishing, has been hiding something from you. I didn't want to reveal it like this, but I feel that I have no choice now."

  My eyesight flashes red, and I feel like my teeth are going to snap off inside my mouth. I knew he would take a shot at me, but I never expected it to be so blatant.

  I brace myself for what he's about to say. Next to me, Leah reaches out and puts a hand on my leg, with a worried look on her face. The crowd murmurs, and everyone sitting around me turns to us. Some of them cock their eyebrows.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, Luke Steele has a dark past that he has been hiding from all of you. His past is nothing but womanizing, drinking, and worse. He is a playboy who's not to be trusted with the world's largest publishing empire. TMZ will be running a full report in the morning, based on a full archive of photos, videos, and eyewitness accounts. I encourage you all to educate yourselves about the character of your colleague. In addition, the woman sitting next to him, who he claims to be his fiancée, is nothing but a hired escort meant to deceive all of you."

  The audience gasps.

  15

  Leah

  My eyes bulge wide, and all sorts of nightmare scenarios run through my head.

  "It's not true!" I blurt out. I say it to everyone, and to no one in particular. I feel like all eyes are on me in the ballroom right now, and I would do anything to disappear into thin air.

  I stand up from my seat, accidentally catching the tail of my dress under my high heel. A ripping noise zips across the room like a phone book being torn in half, and I realize the entire right side of my dress just split open along the seams.

  Some people laugh, and others gasp with embarrassment. I feel tears start to well up in my eyes, but I refuse to cry. Not here in front of the entire publishing industry. My writing career is probably over at this point. But I'm not going to let them add insult to injury.

  I free my dress from my spiked heel, gather it up in my arms, and rush out of the ballroom as fast as I can toward the nearest bathroom. And when I get inside, the first thing I do is deadbolt the door. I run the water until it gets hot, and then I splash some on my face, staring at myself in the mirror and trying to process everything that just happened.

  The water makes my makeup run down my face, but I don't care. There's no way this night can get any worse than it already is.

  A banging sound comes from the door, followed by Luke's voice. "Leah? Open up."

  I trudge to the door, my dress dragging on the dirty bathroom floor. "Is there anyone with you?" I say through the door.

  "No. Just me. Open it up."

  I comply, and he quickly slips inside the bathroom with me. I catch the unmistakable flash of paparazzi cameras behind him.

  "Well that's just great," he says, turning the deadbolt again. "A photograph of me going into the women's restroom right after that debacle. That's just perfect."

  I sniffle. "Oh, Luke, what was he talking about? Womanizing and drinking? Are you hiding something from me? I had such a weird feeling ever since that naked photo appeared on your phone."

  Luke looks angrier than I've ever seen him. "Goddamnit," he says. "No. In the past, when I was stupid and young, I did some things I wish I never had. But that's not me anymore. It's a smear campaign, Leah. A dirty fucking smear campaign."

  "But what about the selfie?" I say, on the verge of tears.

  Luke grits his teeth. "Rex sent it, Leah. Bullshit from my past. I have no idea where or how he got the photo. It was a threat. There's no one else, and there hasn't been since I first laid eyes on you. And there won't be as long as we're together."

  "But what about TMZ? What is all this stuff he's talking about?"

  Luke just shakes his head. "Watch it if you want. All you'll see is a dumb kid doing dumb things in his 20s. It's all old crap. It's not me anymore, Leah. You know the real me. I'm not hiding anything from you and I never have. This is who I am."

  Suddenly I crack up and I can't stop laughing. Nothing about tonight seemed funny up until right now. I believe everything he's saying. My gut, deep down, says that Luke Steele is an honest man. I can't keep having these doubts. His character is under attack, and he needs my support right now.
Not my suspicion.

  Luke shakes his head, only giving me a small, wistful smile. "You're crazy."

  "Oh, Luke," I say, putting my arms around him and tucking my head in tight against his chest. "This is so crazy. I thought the publishing industry was just a bunch of book nerds. I never expected drama like this. What are we supposed to do now?"

  He puts an arm around me, too, and it makes me feel safe and protected. "This is going to take some damage control." He strokes my shoulder with his thumb, thinking. "The first thing we've got to do is get the hell out of here."

  "I can't think of anything I'd like to do more," I say.

  He releases me from his embrace and walks across the bathroom, toward a few windows cracked open near the ceiling. They lead to the grass lawn on the side of the convention center, near the limo drop-off point.

  Luke gets a mischievous grin on his face. I can't help smiling back at him. This whole night has completely blown up, and instead of being sad or angry, everything just seems funny right now because it's all so absurd. "Think we can make an escape through these?" he says.

  I look up at the windows. They're big enough for a person to fit through.

  "You first," I say.

  He takes his suit jacket off, one arm a time, and then tosses it over a stall. "So long," he says to the jacket. Then he loosens his sleeves and collar, and jumps up high enough to hook his fingers over the window ledge. Hanging there with one hand, he manages to turn the window crank until it's wide open. Then he hoists himself all the way up, pulls himself through the window, and disappears out the other side.

  "Hey!" I call out. "What about me?"

  A moment later, his head pops through the window and he grins. God, he looks so handsome like that. I love it when his five-'o-clock shadow comes in during the evening.

  "Give me your hand," he says. I kick off my heels and stand on my tiptoes on the bathroom floor, trying not to step in any of the mysterious-looking puddles all over the tile floor. I reach up with both hands, and then he pulls me up and through the window after him.