The Academic Bride: Billionaire Marriage Brokers Book One

by McConnell, Lucy

  Making it home with seconds to spare, he rushed up the stairs. Janel’s door was open. Nick paused at the threshold, acutely aware that this moment marked a change for him and Janel.

  They’d been friendly and flirty for a month, just not in person. The stranger he’d brought home on their wedding day was long gone. He’d connected with Janel, albeit through text messages, in a way that was hard for him to believe. Their connection was obvious by the way she got his jokes, encouraged him when he was discouraged, and kept a steady supply of home-baked goods on hand. He knocked before pushing the door open wide.

  She wasn’t in the room, but he could hear music coming from the bathroom. He went to the closed door and knocked loudly. There was a scream from the other side, and he quickly yelled, “It’s Nick.”

  “Nick? You scared the living ... you scared me.”

  “Sorry. I need to get my costume.”

  “It’s in here, just a second.”

  Nick placed his hand against the doorframe and tapped his finger while he waited.

  It didn’t take long before Janel opened the door. Her hair was already piled on her head in a fancy array of curls. Soft tendrils framed her face, and Nick noticed she had a long and elegant neck.

  “I was just about to put on the gown. Your suit is in my closet.”

  Following her into the master closet, Nick took in her cotton shorts and tank top. She had a thin frame, but her body had shape; she looked fit and healthy in a way that had his mind blinking like a cursor waiting for someone to type a word.

  “Here you go.”

  Looking quickly to the clothes on the hanger so she wouldn’t notice him noticing her, Nick suppressed a groan. No doubt Dillan would have a field day with his ensemble. He usually went as James Bond, and one year he’d donned a Zorro costume, but he had never worn lace. Maybe he could leave that part off. He grabbed the hangar.

  “How long till you’re ready?” he snapped.

  “About twenty minutes.”

  “Perfect, I’ll meet you in the sitting room.”

  Hurrying, Nick chastised himself for being short with Janel. He’d have to communicate clearer. They worked so well together, he almost thought she could read his mind—which was ridiculous considering the short amount of time that they’d been married.

  After a quick rinse in the shower, he struggled into the tight pants and loose shirt. He shrugged on the jacket with a grunt. It was made of velvet and would be too warm for October. Looking at the pile of leather and lace still on his bed, he shuddered. He did his best to put things where they should go, but the costume just wasn’t coming together.

  He needed this night to go well. There were several companies he wanted to work with; he had so many big ideas and just needed the resources to bring them to fruition. Arriving late, in a frenzy, and in a ridiculous costume would put him at a disadvantage. What was Janel thinking?

  In the midst of trying to wrap a piece of leather around his shoulder he heard a light knock on the door.

  “Nick, um, I think we’re going to be late.”

  Nick looked at the clock on his nightstand, and this time he didn’t suppress his groan. Cursing, he tucked everything under one arm, including the ridiculous boots, and stormed to the door. He yanked it open, marched past Janel, and dumped it all on the couch. “You got me a defective costume,” he said. “You need to ask me before you pick something that requires an instruction manual.” He picked up a wad of lace. “I don’t even know what this is.” He shook it and threw it on the couch.

  He pulled the jacket off as he turned to face her. His anger floated away like clouds on a summer afternoon. His arm got stuck halfway out and halfway in the jacket. Was he trying to put it on or take it off? He couldn’t remember.

  Janel’s bare shoulders were smooth and creamy against the deep purple dress. It hugged her figure and made a heart shape over her bodice, giving her the appearance of a generous figure. The skirts were full and he couldn’t see her legs, but the grace in which she carried herself was enough to knock him speechless. She bit her lip, and he immediately felt guilty for snapping at her. He pulled the jacket on.

  She blinked a few times as she approached the couch, and he hoped she wasn’t trying to hold back tears. “I’m sorry. I was told most couples wear these types of costumes to the ball.”

  Nick sagged like a forgotten house plant. “Other people do, but I don’t.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Nick thought of all the couples he’d seen and somewhat envied because of their boldness for wearing matching costumes. “You know what? I’ve never gone to the ball with a wife. Tonight will be full of firsts.”

  Janel smiled. “It’s my first ball—ever.”

  “Then I guess we should try to be on time.” He looked down at his clothes. “You’d think a guy who could build a computer from scraps would be able to get dressed.”

  Janel chuckled. “I think we can figure this out.” She pulled his arms straight out to the sides and told him to keep them there. Then, she proceeded to wrap the leather pieces around his forearms and tie the laces. She grabbed what turned out to be a belt and slid it around his waist. When she leaned in close, he could smell coconuts and vanilla. It was an exotic combination, and he found himself closing his eyes and getting lost in the scent.

  All too quickly, Janel pronounced him ready to go. He slid on the boots, which were surprisingly comfortable, and asked, “How do I look?”

  Janel appraised him, her eyes sliding over him like a caress. “You look dashing.”

  He raised one eyebrow. “Dashing?”

  “Yes. Dashing.” Reaching up she brushed her fingers over his goatee. “This is the perfect touch.” She looked up into his eyes, her fingers softly resting just below his lips.

  Nick stared into her perfect blue pools, and everything he thought was important evaporated—the ball, being on time, and making the connections he was hoping to make. Every part of his being centered in on her touch, her nearness, and her breath that came in short spurts, lifting her chest to strain against the dress.

  Nick lowered his voice and reached out to brush his fingers up her arm. “I should have thought about this earlier, but no one will be looking at me.”

  Janel whispered, “Why not?”

  “You’re too beautiful to look past. As long as I’m with you, I won’t have to worry about a thing.”

  Janel’s cheeks pinked and she backed away, breaking the bubble around them and sending his worries crashing back in. He resisted the urge to take her by the shoulders and pull her close, to convince her of her beauty, and watch her embrace it. It would take some time and be a most enjoyable experience. Instead, he offered her his arm and escorted her to the limo waiting out front, just like a dashing prince should do.

  Funny thing, he didn’t feel like a prince—he felt more like Tarzan.

  Chapter 15

  Janel wondered at Nick’s ability to make her blush. Other men had admired her, especially since she had a biweekly appointment at a salon and a relentless personal trainer, but none of their compliments felt as personal or as honest as Nick’s. It was as if he could see right into her soul and pull out the very thing she needed to hear before she knew she needed it. She wondered how he was able to do that when they’d spent less than twenty-four hours together in their month-and-a-half long marriage.

  Maybe it was the same way she knew he needed a calming influence tonight. He didn’t wear his nerves on his sleeve, but she’d seen the stress in the set of his jaw. When he snapped at her, she understood it wasn’t so much what she’d done that caused his mood as it was his worry over the evening. After helping him through the mini crisis, he’d relaxed once again.

  Relaxed Nick was much more intimidating than Nick when he was agitated. She could handle a grizzly bear. Ninety-five percent of her department was made up of male professors, assistant professors, and students. They all had bad days, and most responded well to a calm voice and intelligent assis
tance. Like when Professor Ford’s computer crashed at the beginning of the semester, he ranted like a child who’d dropped his ice cream cone until Janel pulled up his files that had automatically saved to the cloud.

  Nick was no exception to the rule, and as far as tantrums went, his was mild.

  Besides, the way he looked at her in this dress was more disturbing than any snappish comment. His eyes had drawn her to him like nothing she’d ever experienced before.

  Touching him was what caused the spark. If she hadn’t reached out to feel his goatee, the fire between them would have stayed silent instead of roaring loud enough to drown out her thoughts and create a place where just the two of them existed. It startled her enough to step away, and she found that the intensity broke at her movement, leaving her slightly disoriented.

  In the driveway, it took a moment to get Janel and all her skirts situated in the limo. Once she was sufficiently tucked in, Nick shut the door and went around the car to get in through the other side.

  Janel took a moment to calm her racing heart. This thing with Nick, whatever it was, couldn’t continue. She finally felt like she had her feet underneath her with this job, and she couldn’t afford to mess it up by flirting with her husband.

  All right, that sounded weird, but it was the truth. She couldn’t flirt with her husband. Not in person. Text flirting didn’t feel real. She pressed her hand to her cheek. How could she have been so shortsighted? She should have known that eventually they would have ended up in the same room together—check that, in the backseat of the same limo together.

  She wanted to bang her head on the window. Marriage wasn’t supposed to be this complicated. At least, not the way Pamela made it sound.

  The driver opened the door for Nick.

  They needed a safe topic. “Why aren’t we taking your car?” she asked.

  “I didn’t want to deal with the traffic. It’s easier to have a driver for an event like this.”

  A car?! Psh. Janel ran her hand over the plush leather seat.

  Despite her mental eye roll at Nick’s version of “a car,” it wasn’t long before Janel could see why he preferred not to drive. A long line of sports cars, limousines, and high-class SUVs curled up the tree-lined drive to the governor’s mansion. Valets hustled here and there, reminding her of a stirred up hornets’ nest in their yellow jackets.

  Janel placed her mask over her eyes, careful not to mess up Clair’s airbrushed cat eye affect. Though she hated to admit it, the mask was her favorite part of the costume. Made from satin that matched her dress, it also had short black feathers and black beads that caught the light. She used her compact mirror to pull the hair out from under the thin band, and smiled at Nick as he slipped on his mask. He paused when he caught her eye.

  “Where’s your glasses?” Nick asked.

  “They didn’t really go with the mask so I put in contacts. I don’t normally wear them because my eyes tend to dry out quickly, but I should be okay for tonight.”

  Nick touched her temple. “If they start to bother you, let me know and we can leave.”

  Janel’s mouth was suddenly dry. “I packed some drops.” She held up the velvet bag tied to her wrist, grateful that her hand was steady, because the rest of her wasn’t. “I should be okay.”

  They soon pulled to the front of the line, and a young man with slicked back hair opened her door and offered his hand. Janel clicked her knees together, slid around, and planted both feet on the ground before trying to extract herself and her dress from the car. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she felt Nick push a bundle of fabric out as she stood up. She stepped aside so he could join her.

  Nick offered his arm.

  Janel took it and leaned over to whisper, “Dashing.”

  Nick shook his head slightly and looked at the stairs. Janel grinned. Your turn to blush.

  Even though it was October and there was a slight chill in the air, the French doors lining the back wall of the house were thrown open, and the party went from the front of the house all the way through the gardens. There were food tables in strategic locations and waiters wandering around with trays full of appetizers and drinks. Janel declined a glass of wine, remembering the lengthy code of conduct she’d signed, and instead took a stuffed mushroom off a passing tray.

  Nick moved them from group to group, introducing her as his wife to his colleagues and acquaintances, always keeping in constant physical contact with her in some way. He held her hand as they wove through the crowd, or rested his fingers on her lower back while they chatted with other couples. The touching needed to happen; they were supposed to be married. Well, they were married, but they were supposed to act married in these types of situations.

  The problem with Nick’s light caresses was that Janel had a hard time disguising the fact that his touch made it hard to concentrate on people’s names and basically on anything more than staying upright and smiling. Actually, smiling wasn’t hard; the way her heart fluttered made that part easy.

  Most people offered congratulations on their elopement. A few women looked her over like competition they wanted to destroy in the most harmful way possible. Janel ignored them.

  Each time Janel heard Nick say, “This is my wife, Janel,” her stomach did a little flip. She held tight to his arm, not ready to go solo among so many strangers.

  “Nick!” A buxom blonde, wearing an angel costume Janel was sure wouldn’t get her to heaven, wrapped her arms around Nick for a full-body hug.

  Janel stepped back, allowing him space to greet his … friend?

  “Nick, you look positively scrumptious tonight.”

  Janel’s blood heated. Nick did look scrumptious, but this woman had no right to look.

  Nick wasted no time in saying, “Charli, I’d like you to meet Janel.”

  He stepped away from Charli and put his hand on Janel’s back, urging her forward.

  “Nice to meet you,” said Charli, in a tone laced with everything but nice.

  Janel glanced at Nick and his frozen smile, and back to Charli with her gaze traveling over Nick’s body. Nick nudged her again, and Janel took it as a signal that she’d have to be the forward one.

  “It’s nice to finally meet some of Nick’s associates.”

  Charli cleared her throat. “Some of us were beginning to think he made you up.”

  Nick scratched at his neck and pulled the lace away from his skin. He hadn’t touched it all night, but for some reason, it bothered him now. Janel looked back at Charli and wondered what had gone on between the two of them. Nick gave Janel a “help me” look, and she jumped to the rescue, all too happy to have the go-ahead to get rid of Charli.

  “You know how it is. New love is a whirlwind and sometimes…” She placed her hand on Nick’s arm and looked deep into his eyes. Struck by the depth of attraction she found looking back at her, Janel said the first thing that came to mind, her voice all breathy and aching. “It’s too extraordinary to share with the world.”

  Nick slid his hand around Janel’s back. They stood that way, lost in each other, until Charli cleared her throat again.

  “Well!” Charli lifted her champagne glass. “To the happy couple.” She threw back the glass and downed the drink.

  Janel giggled. “Thanks,” she called as Charli skittered away.

  Nick didn’t let go of her like Janel thought he would. Instead, he leaned over to whisper in her ear. “You were … extraordinary.”

  As his warm breath brushed her bare neck, it was all Janel could do to keep from melting into him.

  “Do you feel up to sending a few more women scampering away?”

  Janel worked to center her thoughts. Being near Nick, breathing in the deep, musky scent of his skin, made it difficult to follow his train of thought. “Women?”

  Nick grinned wickedly. “There are a couple I’d like to tell to get lost and I can’t.”

  Janel finally caught on. “You can’t, but your wife can.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully.r />
  The corners of Nick’s eyes lifted. “Yes, she can.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

  At that moment, Janel would have taken on a den of angry lionesses for Nick.

  “Let’s get started.”

  After forty-five minutes of mingling, and in some cases running interference before another woman could grapple a hug from Nick, Nick put his hand over Janel’s and leaned in close. “This is Darrin, watch out.” He winked and turned to greet the handsome man with a Cheshire grin and a well-endowed redhead on his arm.

  “Nice costume.” Darrin smirked.

  Nick ignored his jibe, but he flushed. To anyone else, it could have meant the room was warm. Janel knew it was because he was truly embarrassed to be caught by his guy friend in what could be considered tights. It wasn’t the first jab at his manhood because of the costume. Every time someone teased him, Janel’s guilt dug a little deeper. Despite his discomfort, Nick managed to put on a smile. “Darrin, I’d like you to meet Janel.”

  Darrin placed his hands on Janel’s shoulders giving them a light squeeze. Janel smiled politely. His hands were cold. She shivered, though she doubted it was all from his chilly embrace. She’d spent the last hour keeping women off of Nick and hadn’t expected attention from anyone of the male persuasion.

  “You are real.” Darrin cupped her face with his hands, and Janel pulled her chin back. She didn’t like being handled. “I’ve never seen Nick whipped enough to wear tights before.”

  Laughing, he let go of her face and wrapped one arm around her shoulder and the other around Nick. His poor date had a smile plastered on as if she enjoyed the show, but she looked more like she wanted out of the night.

  Janel hated the way Darrin harped on Nick’s costume. She felt bad enough already.

  “Nick, you dog. You really did get hitched.” Darrin dropped his arm around Nick, but kept a tight hold on Janel, crushing her to his side. “I can see why you’ve kept her to yourself for so long.”