Right Billionaire, Wrong Wedding (Sexy Billionaires)

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Right Billionaire, Wrong Wedding (Sexy Billionaires) Page 2

by Victoria Davies


  “Will do. And honestly, just ask Allison any questions you’d have for me. She’s got better taste than either of us.”

  He couldn’t help his smile. After four years, even his sister understood how he depended on Ali. “I’ve already made her promise to help.”

  “Bet it didn’t take much. That woman would do anything for you.”

  “She’s the best assistant I’ve ever had.”

  A soft laugh met his words. “Right. I’ve got to run, but I’ll check back in a couple of days, okay? Do whatever Allison tells you and everything will be fine.”

  “I’ll remind you I run a billion-dollar corporation.”

  “Sure. Listen to Allison. Love you, Dare. Talk soon.”

  The call disconnected before he could say anything more.

  Sighing, he tossed the phone back on his desk. Even after all these years she had him wrapped around her finger. Of course, what else was new? That die had been cast the day he first saw her fresh from the hospital. With five years between them, he’d been old enough to know his life was never going to be the same. Suddenly, he’d had to share his home with a tiny bundle of screaming joy. As a child he’d been unimpressed.

  Thirteen years later, when his parents died in a car crash, his life had changed again.

  He pushed up from the chair and paced the length of his office. He didn’t often think back to the darkest time in his life, when he’d been abruptly saddled with a responsibility no teenager should have to shoulder. But he’d been all Jenny had. It was a rather unsettling feeling to realize that was no longer true.

  Even though she had Matt now, she needed her big brother for one last task. No matter what it took, he wouldn’t let her down.

  A knock sounded on the door.

  “Enter,” he called out.

  Allison pushed into his office, striding to his desk without so much as glancing in his direction. “I’ve got the latest papers from our lawyers and the numbers of the top four most sought after wedding planners in the city.”

  “So quick.”

  That got her looking at him. Deep brown eyes met his. “I’m that good,” she said before gliding from the room. The sight brought a smile to his face, chasing away his dark memories. That was his Allison. Efficient. Dependable. Always ready to be whatever he needed.

  His life was considerably easier since she’d come into is world. He remembered when he’d first seen her. She’d made it through several interview rounds before she ended up in this office. He’d met all the best candidates, and she hadn’t been his number one pick. At least, not on paper.

  But then she’d walked into this room, full of determination. Her curvy body had been squeezed into an ill-fitting suit and her hair had been a wild array of curls. She had in no way resembled a professional assistant. But there had been something about her that made him dig deeper than her terrible fashion sense. He’d seen in her the same hunger to succeed that had driven him all his life. The other candidates might have been paper perfect, but Allison had seemed like a kindred spirit.

  Four years later, he’d never regretted his decision for one minute.

  What would I do without her?

  He didn’t even want to contemplate such a reality. Allison was the only real constant in his life. No matter when he needed her, day or night, she was there. The world of business was constantly shifting and changing. But Ali weathered every storm right along with him.

  All she had to do was walk into his office and his day would get a little brighter.

  He stared at his reflection in the window and smiled. Jenny had given him a Herculean task, but with Allison at his side they just might pull this off. His girl would never let him down.

  …

  “You’re doing what?”

  Allison sighed, closing the door behind Gillian. “This is the last thing I’m helping him with. Once it’s done I’ll move on.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s Jenny.”

  Gillian shrugged. “Nice girl, but that’s got zip to do with you. It’s not like the two of you are besties. If I recall correctly she stood you up that time you tried to take her to lunch.”

  “That was a while ago.” She walked around her desk, grabbing some stray papers.

  “You aren’t doing this for her. If it was anyone else but Darian asking, you’d tell them exactly what they could do with their request.”

  There was no stopping her eye roll. “We’ll get a wedding planner set up, and that will take care of most of the work. It’s not like we’ll be personally picking out much. This is one problem Darian can throw money at to make it go away.”

  Gillian shook her head. “That’s an excuse and you know it.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Jenny is not the reason you’re dragging your feet.”

  “You know I need his blessing if I ever plan to work in this town again. Breaking a contract with Darian King is not something I take lightly.”

  “I’m not arguing that fact. I’m just saying I think it has more to do with the man himself.”

  She shot her friend a quick glare. “I don’t want to let him down. Sue me. He hired me when no one else would.”

  Gillian moved closer. “It’s not disloyal to wish for a life of your own.”

  “Feels like it,” she muttered, dropping into her chair.

  “You sure this is just guilt at leaving him high and dry for a while?”

  “What else would it be?”

  Gillian paused for a moment before saying, “Maybe you don’t want to leave him. Or hell, Ali, I don’t know. Maybe that’s all backward and he’s the real reason you want to leave, and your feelings are just making you afraid to do it. Maybe it’s both.”

  Allison glanced up. “Seriously?”

  “It’s not a crime to dream of someone you can’t have. And it’s not unforgivable to want to break free of such an impossible crush.”

  “I’m not crushing on Darian freaking King.”

  Gillian looked skeptical. “You guys have always been way closer than the average boss-executive assistant relationship requires,” she said. “All those late nights. The close proximity. I mean the man is a walking GQ ad. You really never let yourself wonder what would happen if you just slid a little closer to him on the sofa one night?”

  Wonder, maybe. But she knew damn well she was not the type of woman Darian normally consorted with. And losing the working relationship they had wasn’t worth some fleeting pleasure.

  Or worse, face the crushing embarrassment when he turns me down. Listening to him list all the reasons I’m not his type sounds about as fun as swimming through shark-infested waters.

  “I’m not the kind of woman who sleeps with her boss.”

  Gillian snorted. “Really? Because you must be the only one on the floor with that sort of moral high ground.”

  A pang of annoyance zipped through her. She was well aware Darian was in demand. Not that his women ever seemed to hang around for more than a handful of weeks. She’d stopped trying to tell the endless rotation of modelesque blondes apart a long time ago.

  “He’s just a man.”

  “A hot, ridiculously wealthy, charming man with the power to control a huge, influential company? You’re right. Nothing at all to dream about there.”

  “Not my type.”

  I like having more than a snowball’s chance in hell when I pursue men ridiculously out of my league.

  “Liar.” The redhead leaned over on the desk. “He’s exactly your type.”

  Allison ground her teeth in annoyance. “I’m only going to say this once, so listen up. I want to leave because my job description here has gone from ridiculous to impossible. My shoulders are so knotted no masseuse in the world can help me, and my stress levels are starting to give me white hairs. I’m not leaving because I’m secretly in love with a man I can’t have. I’m leaving because I need to find a way to both work and be happy.”

  Gillian held up her hands in t
he universal don’t-kill-me-for-saying-that symbol. “Fine. Then while we’re on the subject, I’ve got a friend to introduce you to. Handsome. Smart. Funny. He’d be perfect for you.”

  “You don’t know what’s perfect for me,” she replied, turning to her computer.

  “Because you never date. Time to switch it up.”

  “It’s really not a great time. My workload just doubled. I’ll be busy enough this month as it is.”

  “Okay.” Gillian pushed away from the desk. “You’re allowed to cry work this time. But think about it. He could be your date to the wedding.”

  “I’ll consider it. Now, out with you. I’ve got research to do.”

  “All work and no play makes Allison…” She paused. “Well, exactly as she is right now.”

  Allison pointed toward the door with her pen. “Out.”

  “I’m going, I’m going,” Gillian said as she left the room.

  Leaning back in her chair, Allison drummed her fingers on the desk. She shouldn’t let Gillian get to her. The woman saw romance around every corner. She was seeing zebras when there were only horses. Allison’s desire to leave had nothing to do with her feelings for Darian. They had a professional relationship. Nothing more.

  He wasn’t why she was dragging her feet. It was simply the logistics of the situation.

  Glancing at the computer, she saw the document icon that contained her resignation letter. One month. That’s all she had to get through. Hell, maybe she’d ask him to let her out of her contract at the wedding, when he was filled with brotherly pride and, hopefully, more than a little tipsy. It was a solid plan.

  One that would put an end to her late nights with a man too charming for his own good.

  Not my type, she told herself. Even if she had nursed a little crush during her first few months, who could blame her? She’d grown out of it, of course. Darian was not the man for her.

  “Ali.”

  She jerked upright in her chair, wondering if her musing had somehow conjured the man out of her thoughts.

  Darian stood at her door, one hand against each doorjamb. “Grab your purse.”

  “Why?”

  “We’re going out.”

  She shook her head. “I make your schedule, remember? You’ve got a million things to do today.”

  “We can take an hour. But I need you. Hurry, I’ve got a car waiting.”

  He disappeared from sight without further explanation.

  Logging out of her computer, she reached for her purse. One more month of following him around and this would all be a distant memory.

  “I can’t believe you got an appointment,” she said for the tenth time as they walked into the bustling building and made a beeline for the elevators “This is the top wedding planner in the city.”

  “I’m that good,” he said, throwing her earlier words back at her.

  “More like your wallet is that persuasive.”

  “That, too.” He pressed the call button, and the elevator doors slid open soundlessly. Darian gestured for her to move forward before following into the small space.

  “This will be the answer to our problem,” she said as the floors began to rise. “Molly Moreau is the best, according to my research. She’ll take this all off our hands. We might not even have to see her again before the wedding date if you play your cards right.”

  He said nothing, staring at the numbers above the door.

  “Darian?” She frowned at his profile. “That’s the plan, right?”

  “Right.” He turned her way. “We don’t know the first thing about planning a wedding.”

  “Exactly.”

  “We need someone to do this for us.”

  “My thoughts precisely. Glad we’re on the same page.”

  He glanced down at her and the space in the elevator constricted. “We’re always on the same page,” he said, a smile in his voice. “You know me better than I know myself.”

  “I’m a good assistant,” she said, her gaze locked on his.

  “The very best,” he agreed, the warmth in his voice bringing an answering heat to her cheeks.

  Breathe. Don’t let Gillian get in your head. He’s just a man.

  Just a man like any other.

  The doors opened, freeing her as Darian looked up at the doors. Together they stepped out into a bright, bustling lobby.

  “Christ,” Darian muttered.

  Allison surveyed the room, unsure if she should be horrified or awestruck. “If there’s ever a glitter shortage in the city we’ll know who to blame.”

  The world around them was a mixture of sparkle and pale pink. From the show dresses in the corners to the faux cakes on display, the lobby looked like something right out of a bridal magazine. Not necessarily a classy magazine, she mused. To her mind, this office was an affront to good taste.

  But Molly was in high demand. Obviously her clients liked what she had to offer.

  Rolling back her shoulders, she walked up to the reception desk. “We have an appointment to speak with Ms. Moreau. It should be under King.”

  The receptionist greeted her with a smile. “Yes, she’s very excited to meet you. Please, follow me. She’s expecting you.”

  Casting a glance at Darian, she trailed their perky guide.

  “I hope we’ll be able to help you plan your special day,” the woman said as she held open the door.

  “Oh, not me,” Allison tried to say, but the receptionist had already left them. Checking over her shoulder, she saw Darian staring at her in amusement.

  He leaned down. “Not eager to be a blushing bride?” he whispered in her ear, his breath tickling the sensitive skin.

  A shiver ran down her spine. “Trust me, my ‘special day’ would never include this much tulle.”

  “I always knew you were a sensible woman.”

  Sensible. That’s exactly what she was, but for some reason, standing in the midst of this wedding chaos, the idea grated.

  I am the perfect assistant, she reminded herself. How else would I like him to see me?

  That was a dangerous question, but luckily the woman coming toward them was an excellent distraction.

  “Mr. King, a pleasure to meet you,” Molly said when she reached them.

  Allison scanned the woman from the top of her expertly coiffed salt and pepper hair to the tips of her designer pumps. Business must be good for the wedding planner.

  She wasn’t the only one making assumptions, however. The older woman’s eyes flicked between her and Darian with a hint of confusion.

  Allison’s annoyance bubbled once more. She might not be a leggy blonde, but there was no need to be so confused at the idea of a woman like her being with a man like Darian.

  “Ms. Moreau, thank you for taking the time to meet with us,” he said.

  “How could I refuse?” she asked, shaking his hand.

  “Allow me to introduce my assistant, Ms. Reed.”

  “Assistant.” The confusion on her face cleared. “Of course. Please, won’t you have a seat, and we can discuss what has brought you in today.”

  Allison pasted a polite smile onto her face. There was no need to feel so irritated that she was a believable assistant but not a believable bride.

  “I’ve recently found myself in charge of planning my sister’s wedding,” Darian said as he folded his large frame into one of Molly’s pink and silver chairs. Instead of looking ridiculous in the parlor of all things girly, he was utterly at ease. The calm, half smile on his face was an expression Allison recognized when he was after something and wanted to suss out his quarry before making a move.

  “How lovely,” the wedding planner replied.

  “The wedding is less than a month away,” Allison added, taking her own seat.

  Molly made a disapproving sound, shaking her head. “I’m afraid that will severely constrain what your options are. Even at this time of year most of the venues around San Francisco will be booked. Fall themed weddings have almost completely taken
up my schedule.”

  “We understand there may be some challenges to overcome—”

  “You could say that,” Molly cut in. “Such a tight timeline will put some of our more…elaborate ideas out of the question. But let’s worry about that later. What sort of wedding were you thinking of having? Is there a theme you’d like to incorporate?”

  “Classic,” Darian said. “Elegant.”

  “Of course. Will it be a small affair?”

  “Unlikely,” he replied. “But money is no object.”

  That brought a grin to Molly’s face. “Well, we offer full service wedding planning. Everything from booking the venue to tipping the caterers.” Molly pulled a large binder from under her chair and started flipping the pages. “Much will depend on your budget, of course, but in a month we could probably throw something together along these lines.” She turned the binder around and pointed to the blown-up picture on one page.

  “That’s…nice,” Allison said. The image showed a rustic wedding. A happy couple exchanged vows in what appeared to be a repurposed barn. She knew immediately that all the twinkle lights in the world would not win Darian over to this idea.

  “It’s just outside the city limits, so still easily accessible for your guests.”

  “No.”

  Both she and Molly looked up from the binder.

  “What do you object to?” Molly asked.

  “My sister is not getting married on a farm.”

  “I assure you it will be—”

  “Show me your city venues.”

  Molly’s smile slipped slightly. She flipped another two pages and started explaining the benefits of the alternative locations she had in her arsenal.

  Darian listened for a moment before shaking his head. “These places are too small. I require somewhere that feels luxurious.”

  “For a larger wedding party I’m afraid my usual venues are booked up,” she said. “Most locations take reservations months in advance. I’d be happy to see if I could pull some strings and get you a wonderful location in the spring.”

  Told you. Allison bit back the words. Finding the right venue wouldn’t be an easy project.

  Darian leaned back, steepling his fingers. “It has to be this October,” he replied. “My sister will be moving soon after. I’m sure you can come up with a creative solution.”

 

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