The Billionaire Bride Test

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The Billionaire Bride Test Page 1

by Elle James




  The Billionaire Bride Test

  Elle James

  Twisted Page Inc

  Contents

  THE BILLIONAIRE BRIDE TEST

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Wyatt’s War

  Chapter 1

  About the Author

  Also by Elle James

  THE BILLIONAIRE BRIDE TEST

  BILLIONAIRE ONLINE DATING SERVICE BOOK #3

  New York Times & USA Today

  Bestselling Author

  ELLE JAMES

  Copyright © 2019 by Elle James

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-62695-038-2

  Print ISBN: 978-1-62695-039-9

  Dedicated to my husband who knows me, and loves me anyway!

  Elle James

  Author’s Note

  Enjoy other billionaire books by Elle James

  The Billionaire Husband Test (#1)

  The Billionaire Cinderella Test (#2)

  The Billionaire Bride Test (#3)

  The Billionaire Daddy Test (#4)

  The Billionaire Matchmaker Test (#5)

  Visit ellejames.com for more titles and release dates

  For hot cowboys, visit her alter ego Myla Jackson at mylajackson.com

  and join Elle James and Myla Jackson's Newsletter at Newsletter

  Chapter 1

  “I can’t believe you dragged us all the way to Vegas for this bachelor party. Couldn’t we have settled for 6th Street in Austin? At least there, I know where we can go to blend in,” Maxwell Smithson said, looking over the top of his sunglasses at the runway in front of him.

  “Moose, Coop is the first of our band of brothers to head into the unknown waters of matrimony,” Taggert Bronson said. “We couldn’t let him go out with a fizzle.”

  “That’s right,” Sean O’Leary said. “Besides, we needed the time away from everything to blow off some steam.”

  Max shook his head and looked around at the crowded theater. “You call this getting away from it all? I was better off back at my ranch, away from all the noise and paparazzi.”

  “If you weren’t built like a tank,” Cooper Johnson said, “you wouldn’t have been spotted so easily.”

  Max slipped his sunglasses back up his nose and stared morosely at the runway in front of him. “You think I like being groped by every woman on the strip?”

  Gage grinned. “Some men would die to be in your jersey.” He clapped a hand on Max’s back. “All those beautiful women clamoring to be the next Mrs. Smithson… Coop’s found the love of his life. And I’ve found mine. Isn’t it time for you, Sean and Tag to find yours?”

  Sean held up a hand. “Hey, leave me out of this. I’m a dyed-in-the-wool, never-gonna-change-me, confirmed bachelor.”

  Tag nodded. “I will. Soon. But I’ve got a few things to wrap up before I jump into the fray.”

  Max had been thinking along those same lines after watching Coop, and then Gage, meet their match and fall in love. He hated to admit it but… “I’m considering it.”

  Tag pounded Max on the back. “That’s great to hear. Leslie will have you profiled so fast you won’t know what hit you.”

  Max frowned. “You’re not helping the sales pitch with that line of thinking.”

  Tag grinned. “Leslie’s got this thing down. Didn’t she find Coop’s gal, Emma? Isn’t that why we’re here?”

  “And she found Fiona for me,” Gage said. “I’ve got no complaints. Fiona’s everything I’d ever hoped for, and then some.”

  “Just because you two were fortunate enough to find someone through her online dating service, doesn’t mean I’ll have the same luck,” Max said. “Besides, I’m not looking for the same kind of women you two found.”

  His four friends looked at him with raised brows.

  “Uh, Moose, old buddy,” Sean said, “what other kind of women are there? No, wait. There are other kinds, and I bet you’ll find them all here in Vegas.”

  The others laughed.

  Max rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. “No, I’m sick and tired of beautiful women.”

  “Seriously?” Sean shook his head. “Since when are beautiful women a bad thing?”

  “Since they all seem more interested in how they look than what they bring to the relationship.” Max crossed his arms over his chest. “I want a plain woman with simple needs.”

  “Dude.” Sean grimaced. “You’re talking about my grandmother.”

  “Exactly,” Max said with a crisp nod. “Someone who doesn’t want the limelight, prefers to be at home, and most importantly, wants children and isn’t afraid of a few stretch marks getting them.” Max held up a hand to keep Sean from poking more fun at him. “But one that’s closer to my age. She can even be a little older, as long as she doesn’t mind sharing kitchen duty and getting dirty on the ranch.”

  “What about sexual compatibility?”

  Max shrugged. “Sex isn’t everything.”

  “Whoa! Wait just an unholy minute,” Sean leaned back, blinking. “I did not hear that coming from my buddy, Moose.”

  Max cocked an eyebrow. “Lasting respect is.”

  Gage shook his head. “Sexual compatibility is very important. Think about it; the woman you marry is the last person you’ll have sex with for the rest of your life. If you can’t get it up for her, you’re screwed. And I don’t mean in a good way.”

  “Yeah.” Max pressed his lips together. “Sex is important, but I’d rather focus on liking the person I spend the rest of my life with. I’ve seen people marry who are in lust with each other. When the lust wears off, they have nothing left to keep them together.” He lifted is chin. “When I marry, I want to grow old with that person.”

  “But you don’t want to be bored out of your mind.” Gage shook his head. “I guess I’m lucky. I’m marrying someone who’s beautiful inside and out. Someone I’ll never grow bored of. You really should give Leslie’s dating service a try. I’ve never been happier.”

  “Same goes for me,” Coop said, his eyes a little glassy from over-consumption of alcohol. “Emma’s the best. I would never have found her without BODS.”

  “And what’s up with that name, BODS?” Max asked. “Who names a dating service BODS?”

  “She named it for people like us,” Tag said and looked around to see if anyone was listening to them. “You remember what the B stands for…” He leaned closer to Max and whispered, “Billionaire.”

  “I know what the B stands for, but how many billionaires are out there who need an online dating service?”

  “Probably more than you think,” Coop said. “I’m just glad I was able to find the love of my life through Leslie’s service.” He grinned. “And I’m marrying her in two short weeks.”

  “Shh, the show’s about to start,” Sean said and nodded his head to the announcer stepping out on the runway.

  “And that’s another thing,” Max said. “Whose idea was it to book a lingerie modeling show for a bachelor party?”

  “It was the closest thing I could book to a stripper that met with Emma’s approval,” Tag said. “She told me absolutely no strippers.
It was this or a drag queen show.”

  “Hey, you don’t see me complaining,” Sean said. “Bring on the pretty girls in bras and panties.”

  Max braced himself for an hour or more of women parading down an elevated runway in nothing more than their undergarments. Not that he didn’t appreciate scantily clad ladies, but these weren’t ladies he wanted to take home. And he was ready for someone he wanted to take home.

  “What exactly are you looking for in a woman?” Tag asked.

  Max tilted his head to one side and thought. “You know, as a retired NFL football player, I’ve had more than my share of scantily-clad women showing up uninvited in my hotel room, apartment and house. All were beautiful and brainless, and they starved themselves so thin I felt like I could snap them in two, like a twig.”

  “I dated one like that,” Sean said. “Kind of scary. I felt like I could break her in half, making love to her.”

  Max nodded. “Right. What I want is a woman who isn’t afraid of gaining a pound. Someone who doesn’t mind getting dirt under her fingernails. A lady who can wear cowboy boots and, even if she doesn’t know how to ride a horse, is willing to learn. And she must have a brain. No airheads.”

  “What if she’s smarter than you?” Tag asked. “Will that challenge your masculinity?”

  Max shook his head. “Not in the least. I want someone who challenges me intellectually.”

  “Wow, you don’t want much out of your match,” Tag said. “All I want is someone who wants me, not my money.”

  Max pointed to Tag. “That, too.”

  “Be sure to have your list ready when you go see Leslie,” Tag said. “She’ll find that match for you. Her system is amazing.”

  Max crossed his arms over his chest. He’d be the judge of that. The first two matches could have been pure luck. He wouldn’t be convinced until he found his match. Until then…

  The show started with an announcement of the outfit being worn—or what there was of it—and the model strutting her stuff in impossibly high heels. And she had on some crazy pink butterfly wings that were taller than she was. And she was tall. The skimpy panties and bra barely covered her hoo-hah and nipples, and she had on enough makeup to sink a ship.

  What was wrong with these women? Didn’t they realize how ridiculous they looked? What Max wouldn’t give for a wholesome country girl, farm-raised and makeup-free.

  He held his breath until the model made it to the end of the runway, turned and started back.

  Max didn’t breathe again until she’d made it safely back to the curtain. “How in the world do they do that?”

  Sean chuckled. “Do what?”

  “Walk on those stilts?” Max shook his head. “It’s a wonder they don’t fall and break their fool necks.”

  “You see? How can you knock them? Beautiful women work hard at being beautiful. It isn’t easy walking in those shoes or with those wings attached to their backs. It takes talent,” Sean said. “Like this one.” He nodded toward the next model wearing a white bra and panties set trimmed in gold. She wore an elaborate set of angel wings on her back decorated with fluffy white ostrich feathers. Those ostrich feathers wafted toward her face. One, in particular, seemed to be loose and holding on by a string of glue. It floated beneath the model’s nose.

  Max had to give the woman credit; she kept her face steady for the entire walk down the long runway. When she spun, the feather swung out.

  For a moment, Max thought it would settle behind her.

  Alas, with each step, it floated closer to her face until it was back beneath her nose.

  At that moment, she was passing where Max and his friends stood.

  His fingers itched to pluck the feather from beneath her nose. Though he was tall, the runway was elevated and too high for him to reach up and help her out.

  The feather did its damage.

  The woman’s nose wrinkled first, then her chest heaved, and she let loose a suppressed sneeze. The force of the act rocked her on her high heels. She flung out her arms and fell. Down, down, down, as if in slow motion.

  As with football, when Max saw something coming his way, he reached out to catch it. Since he was the tallest of his group, it made sense for him to catch the falling model.

  She tumbled backward, landing in Max’s outstretched arms, angel wings and all.

  The crowd gasped in horror. A camera flashed in Max’s sunglasses-covered eyes.

  Sean, Coop, Tag and Gage surrounded him, protecting him from the paparazzi.

  When he had her firmly in his grasp, Max stared down through the ostrich feathers into the prettiest violet eyes. Her hair had been slicked back so tightly, he couldn’t tell if she was blond, brunette, black or red-haired.

  Her slender arm draped over his shoulder, the tips of her fingers touching his ear.

  “Thank you,” she said. “You saved me.”

  He snorted. “If you didn’t wear such insanely high heels, you wouldn’t have fallen.”

  “Tell me about it,” she said. “Help me back up. I have to get back to work.”

  He set her on her feet.

  She stared at the runway, four feet above where she stood. Then she glanced around, as if looking for an exit.

  “Need help getting back up there?” Max asked.

  She glanced back at him with a small grimace and a nod. “I’ll manage.”

  No way would she find her way through the crowd.

  Before she could turn away, he lifted her off her feet.

  She let out a little squeal and clung to his shoulders as he set her on the stage.

  Once she had her feet firmly on the platform, she rose above him and straightened on those impossibly high heels.

  Mouthing the words, Thank you, she spun on those heels and walked back down the runway to the clapping hands of the crowd happy to see she wasn’t injured and could finish her circuit. If her wings were a little lopsided, no one seemed to care.

  Sean pounded Max on the back. “You might not need Leslie’s online dating service after all. Wish I could be so lucky as to have the woman of my dreams land in my lap like that.”

  Max’s gaze followed the woman down the runway until she disappeared behind the velvet curtain. Though she’d felt good in his arms, and her violet eyes had been amazing… “She’s not my type.”

  “Dude,” Tag said. “She’s a female with a rockin’ body. She’s every man’s type.”

  “Right?” Sean said. “Did you at least get her number?”

  “No.” Max gave Sean a frowning glance. “I told you, I want a woman who isn’t so into her looks she’s afraid to eat a hamburger.” Although the model had had curves in all the right places, she’d been too beautiful. And beautiful women, in his experience, didn’t stick around. They were more interested in themselves than a lasting relationship. “Man, if you’d wanted her number so much, you should have caught her.”

  Max stared up at the stage as the next model came out, wearing a set of gold filigree wings and a matching gold bikini. She was even thinner than the one he’d held in his arms. His gaze went to the curtain where the violet-eyed beauty had disappeared. Would she be out again in another outfit?

  Max had been ready to leave the show and go back to their suite of rooms to drink a couple of beers and call it a night. But after catching the angel-winged beauty, his interest had been captured. He stayed, hoping to catch another glimpse of those eyes.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t reappear after her first disastrous trek down the runway. Or, if she had, he didn’t recognize her in whatever crazy outfit she’d worn next. From the distance, he couldn’t pick out eye color.

  The night ended when Coop excused himself to call his fiancée.

  “I have a beer with my name on it back at the suite. You’re welcome to join me,” Max said to the others.

  Gage nodded. “I’m all for a beer.”

  “We can’t desert the groom,” Tag said.

  Sean sighed. “Remind me not to fall in love. It
takes all the fun out of playing the field.”

  Tag looped an arm over Sean’s shoulders. “When you fall in love, you won’t care about playing the field.”

  “All the more reason to remain single,” Sean said. “Let’s go. I could use some whiskey.”

  With one last glance at the runway, in search of the violet-eyed model, Max hooked Coop’s elbow and led him through the throng of people.

  Coop cupped his cellphone to his ear as he tried to talk with Emma over the roar of the crowd.

  The man was besotted.

  For the first time in his life, Max found himself envious of his friend and even more eager to give Leslie’s Billionaire Online Dating Service a chance. What could it hurt? Either it worked, or it didn’t. He had to try.

  Jane Gentry rubbed her ankle in the dressing room. She wasn’t sure how she’d made it back down the runway after her fall, but now that she was off the heels, she couldn’t stand in them again. She was done for the night. One of the other models would have to fill in for her.

  Her skin still tingled from where the big man in the crowd had held her. She wished she’d gotten his name so that she could call and thank him again for saving her from breaking her neck.

  A twisted ankle was much better than a broken neck.

  The entire incident brought it home to her, even more clearly, that it was time for her to retire from the modeling scene.

  She didn’t need the money. Her modeling career had taken off early in her life, and she’d invested wisely, amassing a fortune of her own. Over the past few years, she’d been very selective about the gigs she’d accepted. She’d only agreed to this one in Vegas as a favor for a friend, and because all the money generated from ticket sales would go toward the local children’s hospital.

 

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