Alpha Billionaire Series

BAILEY

The next morning, I'm a little more tired than usual and as I drink my vanilla-flavored coffee, I realize why. I spent way too much time last night thinking about Jace when I should've been sleeping.

Shaking my head, trying to clear his amazing blue eyes from my thoughts, I check my email again, but he still hasn't responded to the one I sent him last night. I wonder why? I chose my top single ladies- all successful, beautiful and financially-stable. The last thing I want to do is set a gold digger loose on him. I don't run an agency that promotes Sugar Daddies and hookups.

It's bad enough this whole thing isn't going to be genuine.

With a frown, I tap my pen on the edge of my desk. Maybe he didn't get a chance to look at the email yet or-

Rae peeks her bright red head into my office, interrupting my thoughts. “Guess who's here?” she asks. Before I can even respond, she blurts out, “Blue Eyes!”

“Rae,” I admonish and stand up, my heart instantly picking up speed. “You can't call a client that! If he heard-"

“Heard what?” a deep voice lazily asks.

My gaze immediately flickers over to Jace who steps into the doorway, so tall and handsome. His powerful presence makes my insides quiver.

“Hello, Mr. Montgomery,” I say smoothly, purposely ignoring his question and my internal quivering. “Come on in."

Ishoo Rae out and close the door, turning on my heel, pulling in a steadying breath.

“Please, call me Jace," he says as he sits. He sends me a dazzling smile.

Okay, he's being really smooth.Like more charming than yesterday and I'm instantly suspicious. “Did you get my email okay.. Jace?”

“I did”

“Great!” I move around my desk and drop down into my chair. “Who do you like best?”

“None of them,” he bluntly informs me.

My heart sinks. “Oh, okay. Well, I do have other options that we can look at, if you have some time..." Shit. He didn’t like any of them. I sent him amazing women! Excellent choices. I'm so disappointed right now, but I do my best to stay positive and try hard not to panic.

“I want you," he states.

My head snaps up. “I'm sorry?”

“I. Want. You."

He enunciates each word, and my throat goes dry. All I can do is blink; still not quite sure I heard him right. “Um... I'm speechless and more than a little stunned. “Can I ask what was wrong with the women I sent?”

“They weren't you.”

Okay, 'm definitely hearing him right, but I don't understand. I grab my pen and start nervously fiddling with it. “Ym sorry, I's just a little confused. Why do you want me when there are better options?”

“I respectfully disagree” he says, oozing charm.

Red flag. I've dated my fair share of douchebags, most recently Evan, and I know it's best to avoid men like Jace. But I also don’t want to lose him as a client because Jace Montgomery equals a big pay day which could help save my business.

“I'm flattered,” I say carefully. “But I think someone like Theresa is a much better choice and-"

“Bailey,” he interrupts, leaning forward and propping his forearms on the edge of my desk. “Let me make myself clear. Id lik; for you to accompany me up to Buffalo for the holidays and pretend to be my fiancée. If 'm being honest, I get a good vibe from you and I know you will be able to handle my somewhat crazy and very nosy family. You seem competent, trustworthy and someone who can hold an intelligent conversation. Am I wrong?”

As his words sink in, I realize that he’s giving me an ultimatum. If I don't do this, then I'm going to lose him as a client. And I can't afford for that to happen. I also want to play this smart. “Not at all’ I counter. “It's just that I don’t normally date my clients”

“Fake date,” he reminds me.

“Right” I lick my lips, trying to decide how best to lay out my offer, but he beats me to the punch.

“Heres my offer. You come with me to Buffalo and pretend to be my fiancée for two weeks and I'll pay upfront for service rendered and then invest $50 grand in your company after we return.”

My mouth drops and I quickly close it. “Why would you do that?”

“Let's just say I heard you're looking for an investor and I'm looking for a fake fiancée with no strings attached. And, to me, that's priceless. I can't afford to get tangled up with a woman who's going to end up wanting more. Because trust me- when you're a billionaire, they all inevitably do.”

An arrogant billionaire, think, but bite back the comment. Instead, I say, “So we'd be helping each other out?”

“Exactly.”

Even though I'm wary, payment upfront and fifty thousand dollars will pull my little business out of debt and keep us running for...well, for years! That amount of cash flow would allow me to hire a marketing firm to help get Head Over Heels’ name out there and that's how I can drum up more business and attract new clients.

It's only two weeks of your life,l tell myself. And, in exchange, I can keep the office doors open and keep helping people find love.

There's really no question about it.

“I'l do it," I say.This is from NôvelDrama.Org.

He nods his dark head. “Good.”

“But I'd like to lay down some ground rules and make sure we're on the same page.’

“Okay,” he says carefully. “What are you referring to?”

“Well, we're going to need a backstory to tell your family. Like how we met."

“Agreed.

“And if we're engaged then we need to know things about each other. More, ah, personal things."

“Then we'll spend some time together beforehand. In fact,” he murmurs, blue eyes darkening. “I want us to be seen together “Seen together?” I echo, not sure I understand what he means.

“Yes. We should start “dating’ and pretend we're a new couple. We've got two weeks before we leave for Buffalo, and it'll be 3 perfect way to get to know each other better.’

Hmm.I understand his point, but suddenly two weeks just turned into a month. I look into his indigo eyes and almost laugh. What is my problem? Why am I acting like dating Jace Montgomery would be some kind of burden? The man is a first-class catch and extremely easy on the eyes. AllI have to do is hang out with him for the next four weeks and my business will hav a second chance, a new life.

“Okaaay,” I say slowly. “How many nights a week are you going to need me?” The second the question is out of my mouth; I regret my poor word choice.

Jace's mouth edges up. “I might want you every night,” he answers, his voice far too low and husky.

Releasing a breath, I pretend not to notice how damn sexy his tone is and act like I didn't catch the double-meaning in his response. “I'd like a schedule. I do have a life, too”

Those indigo eyes narrow. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

A scowl crosses his face and I wonder why he cares. “If this is all fake, why would it matter?” I ask, trying to be mysterious and play his question off. But he doesn't care for my coy answer. Not one little bit.

“Do you?” he presses, brow furrowed.

“No,” I finally admit.

My answer eases his frown, and he rolls his shoulders back, the tenseness dissipating. “Good. The last thing I want is some overprotective idiot ruining everything.”

“That's not going to happen,” I assure him. “But I would like to know what your plans are ahead of time so I can prepare.” Go knows, I've never dated a well-known billionaire bachelor who has the city at his feet. “I can't have you call me and tell me you're picking me up in 20 minutes to go to some fancy-shmancy event. Unless, of course, I can wear leggings."

Agrin breaks out over his face and it's beautiful. Like the damn sun poking through the clouds after a rainstorm. All light an golden and I can't take my eyes off it. He also has that freaking dimple in his left cheek that snags my attention again. Gah. I makes me weak in the knees.

“Leggings aren't going to be appropriate,” he informs me.

“I figured," I say, gaze sliding down his chiseled, clean-shaven jaw and then moving down his golden-bronzed throat to his buttoned-up shirt and tie. How can he still have a tan? It's December, yet Jace looks like he spent yesterday frolicking at the beach. “Why're you still tan?" I blurt out.

“What?” he asks, with a slight chuckle.

“You're tan and it's December. How does that even work? Do you have a tanning bed or something?”

He barks out a laugh. “No, I don't have a tanning bed” He gives a slight shrug. “I have some Italian blood. Oh, and I did spend a lot of time in the sun this past summer. I guess I just hold a tan better than others."

“Certainly not here," I say. “Did you go away?"

He gives a slight nod. “Three weeks on the French Riviera.”

“Oh, that must've been nice."

“It was” he assures me.

A part of me struggles not to roll my eyes and the other part of me admires his directness and how he’s so unapologetic about being able to take a vacation that most people will never experience in their lives. I wonder if he’s always had money: Filing that question away for later, I cross my arms. “So, what're your exact expectations for the next four weeks. I like to play and prepare things. I also like to know what's expected of me when it comes to a job."

I emphasize the word job because that's what this is- he's a client, paying me for a service.

“I plan for us to be seen together and announce to the world that we're dating these next two weeks. Keep your evenings free. It could be anything from dinner or to the ballet or to the opera. I get invitations to everything, but only try to attend the most important events. We need to be convincing because the media will take notice and my family is even more intuitive. If we aren't convincing, my family will catch on. Are you a good actress?”

“Passable,” I say carefully. Though how hard can it be? To pretend that I'm attracted to the most handsome man I've ever met.

“I need better than that. I need you on my arm with a smile on your face and stars in your eyes.”

He picks up a small picture on my desk with a quote about love on it. I have them all over the office.

“Every time I see you, I fallin love all over again," he reads. “Do you believe this crap?”

The sneer in his voice catches me off-guard. “Yes, as a matter of fact I do," I say primly, bristling.

“Good,” he states. “Because that's how I need you to act. Like you believe in every single one of these ridiculous quotes about love that you have displayed everywhere.”

“They're not ridiculous,” I counter.

He scoffs and sets the picture back down. “Well, they're certainly not realistic”

“sounds like you've never been in love."

“Oh, I have,” he assures me caustically. “I made that mistake once and it will never happen again."