The Billionaire Bride Test

by Elle James

  Beyond this engagement, she had only one more in Dallas in a few weeks and she was done. Again, if it wasn’t a charity event, she’d have cancelled that one as well.

  One of the assistants helped her out of the wings and costume and into her own street clothes. Jane called the car service, located an icepack and applied it to her ankle while she waited. In flats, she was able to hobble out to the car and get inside without help. Before long, she was back at her hotel, packing her bag for her trip back to Austin in her home state of Texas.

  When she was ready and had scheduled a car for the trip to the airport in the morning, Jane lay in the king-size bed, staring up at the hotel ceiling. Sleep, as usual, was hard to come by.

  Since she was ten, she’d been on the treadmill of modeling gigs. Almost twenty years. With her thirtieth birthday bearing down on her, she had begun to question her career choice and her future.

  Over the past twenty years, with the guidance of her parents and financial advisors, she’d done very well. Investments of her earnings from modeling, sponsorships, a clothing and a perfume line, had grown to the point she didn’t have to work another day in her life, and she’d never spend all the money she had. But what, besides money, did she have to show for it all?

  She had no doubt the girls she’d gone to grade school with, had she kept up with them, had all married and had a couple of kids by now. Their worries would be what to pack in school lunch boxes and what to cook for dinner, while balancing a career.

  Jane loved to cook but rarely had the opportunity to do so. And whatever she cooked couldn’t pass her lips for fear she’d gain a pound or two.

  What she wouldn’t give for a cheeseburger with all the fixings. She sighed. For as long as she’d been modeling, cheeseburgers had been taboo.

  She found her thoughts going back to the man who’d caught her. He’d worn sunglasses, so she hadn’t gotten a good look at his face. But those hands… They’d been big, coarse and strong. The chest she’d landed against had been rock solid. A man like that could protect her from the paparazzi and make love to her like nobody’s business. And he’d make strong babies for her to love and hold.

  She wished she’d gotten his number.

  Jane closed her eyes, a plan forming.

  It was time to retire from modeling and start the next chapter of her life. She’d put living and loving on hold, but time was running out if she wanted the whole enchilada.

  Her mouth watered at the thought of eating a whole enchilada. When was the last time she’d eaten dinner without counting a single calorie? Too long!

  Last time she’d been in Austin, she’d run into one of the only friends she’d kept in touch with from grade school, Leslie Lambert. Hadn’t she said she was developing an online dating service just for people who wanted the safety, security and individual attention needed to navigate the dating world? Leslie had said she personally screened all potential candidates prior to allowing them to enter her system.

  Was it possible that Leslie could find Jane a fella just right for her?

  She wanted someone who didn’t care if she gained a pound or two. Someone who would love her without knowing how much money she had in the bank. A man with big hands and strong muscles.

  A man like the one whose arms she’d fallen into from the runway…

  When she got back to Austin, she’d look up Leslie, bring her list of requirements and start the search for her perfect match.

  For the first time in a long time, Jane fell asleep with a smile on her face and hope in her heart. She was ready to embrace the next chapter of her life. Bring it on!

  Chapter 2

  Once he got back to Austin, Max didn’t waste any time making an appointment with Leslie Lambert of the Billionaire Online Dating Service. The problem was, his friends all felt it necessary to join him at his initial consultation.

  He didn’t like it, but he figured it was fair since he’d been at Coop’s and Gage’s first meetings with the matchmaker.

  But he’d be damned if he let them into the computer room where he’d fill out his questionnaire. That would be all on him.

  “So, Moose, what are you going to ask for?” Sean said. “Blonde, redhead, brunette?”

  “I don’t really care,” Max responded. “As long as she’s not too pretty. A Plain Jane will suit me just fine.”

  Tag frowned. “Remember, that could be the face you look at across the table for the rest of your life.”

  “Then she’ll be perfectly satisfied, knowing I didn’t marry her for her looks.”

  Sean winced. “I wouldn’t put it to her like that. Most women like to think they’re beautiful in their lover’s eyes.”

  “And she will be,” Max assured him. “I’ll want her to know I value her for her intellect and sense of humor, more than her beauty. Beauty doesn’t last.”

  “What else do you have on your list?” Tag asked.

  Max resisted the urge to pat his pocket where he’d shoved the piece of paper he’d used to jot down his wants and desires in a mate. “Who said I made a list?”

  “We all have a mental list of the type of woman we think we prefer,” Coop said. “I had one in my head when I filled out the questionnaire.”

  “What did you have on your list?” Max asked, wondering if he should add more to his requirements.

  “Let me think...” Sean touched a finger to his chin. “She had to have all her own teeth.”

  Max frowned. He hadn’t thought of that. He wanted a woman who wasn’t beautiful, but toothless…? He supposed he could afford to help the love of his life get implants.

  “I listed the important things, like ‘must want children, must love animals and the outdoors’. Things I enjoy. The experts say opposites attract, but if you want a relationship to last, you have to have more in common than not.”

  Max nodded.

  “Come on, Moose,” Sean elbowed him in the side. “Spill. We want to know what you can’t live without in a woman.”

  Max shook his head. “No way. If you ever meet the woman…not that I’m likely to bring her anywhere close to the likes of all of you…I don’t want her to run screaming in the other direction because one of you slips and tells her what’s on my list.”

  Tag clapped a hand to his chest. “Hey, you can trust me.”

  “I might be able to trust some of you, but others—Sean—have big mouths.” Max sat straighter as the door to the conference room opened.

  Leslie Lambert, dressed in a stylish gray suit and soft pink blouse, sailed in with a smile. “Well, I didn’t expect the entire gang to show up for the third time.”

  “Shouldn’t these yahoos leave?” Max suggested.

  Leslie waved a hand. “Not at all. As long as you’re comfortable with them being here…”

  Max frowned at his friends. “If I say I’m not, will they leave?”

  Sean crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head.

  Coop grinned. “Not a chance.”

  “I’m staying.” Tag tipped his head toward the woman. “Moral support for Leslie.”

  “You all watched me as I suffered through the embarrassment,” Gage said. “I wouldn’t miss Moose’s for the world.”

  The four men Max had once considered his friends all sat back in their conference room chairs with smirks on their faces.

  “Might as well get this over with,” Max said. “What do you want me to do?”

  “I can give you the spiel again, or you can come with me, and we can get right down to finding your match.”

  Max barely stopped himself from snorting. Though two of his friends had found their matches, he wasn’t convinced he’d find his using a computer software program. However, given that he was thirty-four years old and hadn’t found the love of his life, he was ready to try anything. He wasn’t getting any younger, and he wanted what was missing in his life. A partner and children.

  “Let’s do this,” he said and followed Leslie out of the conference room.

 
; “Good luck, Moose,” Coop called out.

  “Make good choices,” Gage added.

  “Remember, that’s the face you might have to look at for the rest of your life,” Sean said. “Don’t go for ugly.”

  “Shut up, O’Leary,” Moose muttered. “I know what I want.”

  “You say you do, but do you really?” Sean’s voice called out, his words echoing down the hallway.

  “All you have to do is answer the questionnaire honestly, and the program does the rest,” Leslie reassured him.

  “Got it,” he said, though he would withhold judgement until he saw the questions.

  “I have another client in the room right now, but she should be finishing up by now.” Leslie paused with her hand on the door to a room several yards down the hallway from the conference room. “Wait here while I check to see if she’s done.”

  She slipped inside.

  Curious, Max tried to see who was in the room. If Leslie’s other client was filling out the questionnaire, she could be the woman the program matched him with.

  Max’s heart slammed against his ribs. The woman in the room could be the future Mrs. Maxwell Smithson.

  He clenched his suddenly sweating hands into fists and willed his pulse to slow. The fight or flight instinct kicked in, urging him to turn and run. But Moose Smithson never ran from a challenge. He met it head on.

  Squaring his shoulders, he drew in a deep breath and waited for the two women to emerge from the room.

  Then a thought occurred to him. If this woman was the one destined to be his future wife, how would she feel seeing him at his pathetic worst, standing in line at a matchmaking firm?

  The door handle turned.

  Max turned his back to the door and slipped his ever-ready sunglasses over his eyes. He couldn’t disguise his size, but the sunglasses made him feel a little less recognizable to the general public.

  A woman backed out of the room, wearing a floaty white dress that swirled around her trim calves. Her hair was a sandy-blond and fell straight down her back to a straight line between her shoulder blades. She spoke softly to Leslie who emerged a moment later, smiling.

  “I’ll be in touch as soon as I know something.”

  The woman turned, ducked her head and walked past Max without lifting her head.

  From what he could tell, she wasn’t wearing any makeup, and her facial features were nondescript.

  He wished he could have seen her eyes, but they were hidden effectively behind large, round-lensed sunglasses.

  Were they violet, like those belonging to the model he’d caught in Vegas? Why he couldn’t get that woman out of his mind, he didn’t know. She wasn’t the kind of woman he pictured himself with for the rest of his life. He’d dated too many beautiful women, and they’d all had one thing in common…they were only interested in themselves, not a relationship with anyone else. Their lives revolved around them as if they were the center of the universe.

  “I’ll be right back,” Leslie murmured as she passed Max. She followed the woman to the exit and shook her hand. Once the client had departed, Leslie turned her smile onto Max and joined him in front of the fated doorway. “Ready?”

  Hell no.

  Max opened the door and swept out a hand. “Lead the way.” He put on a front of nonchalance while inside, his heart was racing, and he thought he might throw up. He hadn’t been this nervous since his first time playing quarterback for his NFL team. Back then, all eyes had been on him to perform. Now, he was on his own. No one was judging him, but he felt like what he was about to do could change his life forever.

  Leslie pulled out a chair in front of a computer terminal. “Have a seat, Mr. Smithson.”

  “Max,” he corrected.

  She nodded. “Max. The questionnaire will take approximately thirty minutes. Take your time, think about your responses and be honest with yourself.” She walked to a small refrigerator in the corner and pulled out a plastic bottle of water. “This might help relax you.”

  “A beer would be better,” he said, wishing he had one to get through the next thirty minutes of hell.

  Leslie’s expression didn’t change as she turned to the refrigerator again, pulling out a longneck bottle of beer. “I try to keep a variety of drinks on hand.” She popped off the cap and set it on the table beside him.

  “You think of everything,” he murmured and tipped the bottle up, taking a long draw off the contents before he set it back on the table, half empty.

  “I try to.” She leaned over the keyboard and rested her hand on the mouse. With three quick clicks, she had the questionnaire loaded. “Click on the boxes on the screen. They’re self-explanatory.”

  “You mean, idiot-proof.”

  She laughed. “No. That’s not what I meant. But do think through your answers and be clear concerning your wants, needs and desires.” She straightened. “Can I get you anything else before you start?”

  “An escape route?” he quipped.

  Leslie laughed. “You don’t have to do this. But I think you will be satisfied with the results. If you feel at any time that you don’t want to continue to be a part of the system, hit the cancel button at the top of the page. If you don’t save it at the end, it doesn’t add you to the pool of clients.”

  Good. If he decided he wasn’t ready to start dating strangers, he had an out. That made him feel better. He could go through the questions, see if they made any sense and still have the opportunity to nix the entire plan.

  “I’ll leave you to it,” Leslie said softly and left the room, closing the door with a soft snick behind him.

  Alone in the room with the computer, the monitor and no one else, Max placed his hand on the mouse.

  Was it still warm from the woman’s hand that had been on it before him?

  A strange surge of electricity rippled through him.

  Max moved the mouse, positioning the cursor of the button on the screen that read, START HERE.

  His heart pounded and his hand froze on the mouse. It was as if his life was about to start with those words.

  Max shook his head. It was just a computer monitor and a software program. He took his list from his pocket and unfolded it on the table beside him.

  Filling out a questionnaire wouldn’t change anything. Going on a date wouldn’t change anything.

  Unless she was the one…

  If he was honest with himself, his hand shook just a little as he clicked the mouse, launching him into the questionnaire.

  The questionnaire was all about who Max Smith was. He sure as hell wasn’t going to use his real name. Maxwell Smithson, the Moose, NFL football player, was too well known to the media and just about everyone in the U.S. He wanted to meet a woman who wanted to go out with him based on his personal profile, not his media profile.

  He filled in all the usual stuff about height, weight, hair color and eye color.

  For occupation, he couldn’t say NFL football player. He’d retired from that. Now that he wasn’t playing, he considered himself a rancher. Did women like ranchers? Or would they consider them too sweaty and dirty?

  A smile curled the corners of his lips. Like playing football wasn’t dirty and sweaty…

  When it came to his preferences, he answered honestly that he preferred the outdoors and rural settings. He didn’t like crowds and liked more one-on-one time. Bars weren’t his scene, picnics were. Hiking over museums. Staring at the stars versus going to a movie.

  Though he was smart and had invested wisely, he preferred to work with his hands rather than with his brain. He’d rather put in a hard day’s work hauling hay over sitting in an office chair any day. Unless it was a typical one-hundred-degree day in Texas. Then he might prefer to hang out in his pool. But the questionnaire didn’t have that as an option.

  Did he like animals? Max snorted. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have three dogs, five horses and a barnyard full of the typical critters, like chickens, pigs and goats. Yes, he liked animals. He glanced at his
list. That was top on his list for the woman he hoped to meet. She had to like animals.

  And food. She couldn’t be one of those bone-thin models he’d seen in Vegas. He wanted a woman who knew how to throw down a cheeseburger and wasn’t afraid of getting dirty.

  Max met page after page of questions with his answers, until he thought the computer knew more about him than even his mother.

  After he’d finished entering all his data, he clicked the CONTINUE button and waited, expecting the monitor to display his requirements for the woman he wanted to meet.

  A smiley face emoji appeared on the screen and the words QUESTIONNAIRE COMPLETE displayed on the monitor.

  “What the hell?” He clicked the back button. The hourglass indicated the program was thinking and working. When it was done, the monitor displayed WELCOME TO BODS.

  Max hit enter and the START HERE appeared on the screen.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He pushed back his chair, glanced at his watch and headed for the door. Had he really been sitting there for thirty minutes and only finished describing his preferences about himself?

  As he reached for the doorknob, it twisted, and Leslie popped her head through the gap in the door. “All done?”

  Max frowned. “I’m not sure.”

  Leslie smiled. “Why?”

  “I only answered questions about me. Wasn’t I supposed to have a place to enter my preferences for the woman I hope to meet?”

  Leslie’s smile widened. “By answering the questionnaire about yourself, you did that.”

  Max shook his head. “I have an entire list of things I want in a woman.”

  Leslie nodded. “I’m sure you do. Based on the answers to your questions, the program will select the woman who most fits your personality.”

  “But don’t I have a say in whether she’s a blonde or brunette?”

  Leslie patted his arm. “Does hair color really matter?” Leslie laid a hand against his chest. “What matters is who you are and who she is inside.” She looked into his eyes. “Trust me, my system will find your perfect match.”