The Billionaire's Fake Girlfriend: Part 1 (The Billionaire Saga 1)

“Then you like it?”

“I love it!”

I didn’t quite recognize the girl staring back at me. Long gone was the poster child for “trying to make it in LA.” Gone was the pasty skin and pretty but uncertain features. She had been replaced with a completely different person.

This other girl was something else entirely. Something brand new.

“Is this a loaner?” I asked.

“No…this is for you.”

Marcus’ fingers grazed the back of my neck, and I glanced up to see him staring quietly back at me in the mirror. When our eyes met, he didn’t drop his gaze as I expected; he continued to stare—a quiet affection softening all of his features with a smile.

“I can’t—” I stammered, my eyes returning to the ice shards around my neck, “this is too much. Even for you.”

“Keep it, please.”

The fingers disappeared, leaving a trail of scorched skin in their wake. When he met my melancholy expression, the corners of his mouth turned up in an almost wistful smile.

“It’ll give you something to remember me by.”

He left before I could say a word. Left me standing there with a thousand diamond knives hanging around my neck. Left before he could see me cry. I knew none of this was real. But why was I getting so attached? I tried to stay distant. I knew who and what Marcus was all about. He was somebody no woman could tame. This was probably nothing more than a huge game to him. I had to stay strong and quit kissing him. This was all fake, I reminded myself. So it was vital that I keep all feelings out of this little arrangement. This was nothing more than an acting gig. Falling in love with your co-star was a big no-no.

I heard the gala starting before I even made it out of my bungalow. Sounds of Stravinsky floated in through the open window, and I knew it was time. Marcus was supposed to meet me there, so I took one final look in the mirror and headed outside alone. The path to the ballroom was paved with expensive couples. I followed along behind oversized clutches and clouds of cologne until I splintered off at the top of the grand staircase.

It was a fairy tale. And for the first time in my life, I fit right in.

Every eye in the room fastened onto me as I walked down the stairs. Floated was more like it. In any other circumstance, it would have been a surefire way to make me fall. But tonight, my world was so surreal that I felt like I was hovering above myself, watching me too.

It was the girl from my reflection again. It appeared that she was here to stay.

The dress Marcus’ minions had made for me was the color of soft winter snow. It was actually rather simple, especially compared to some of the numbers I saw around me, but it was that understated elegance that made it stand out. It wound around my body like a second skin, flowing freely from my bodice to the floor. Two gauzy sashes hung down the back from beneath the shoulders, fanning out behind me like little wings as I slowly descended the stairs. Those and the diamonds glittering around my neck were the only accessories I’d opted for. From the looks I was getting from every corner of the room, they were more than enough.

“Rebecca.”

The second my feet touched the ground, Marcus wound his way through the crowd, smiling dismissively and moving people politely aside to get to me. When he made it through the last of them, his face broke into a shining smile, and he took my hand, pulling me closer.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing,” he whispered in my ear, “trying to upstage me at my own party?”

I smiled and slipped my hand behind his neck, stretching up on my toes. “Tell you what, let’s head to a bathroom and we’ll switch. That way you can wear the dress.”

He chuckled. “Not a chance, Rebecca.”

I smothered a laugh as he slipped my hand through his arm and turned me to face the crowd. The eyes of every person in the room were upon us, poised as if they were holding their breath. A man came out of nowhere and handed Marcus a microphone which he held to his lips with a gracious smile.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you to my humble little gathering.”

Humble. Only Marcus would think of this as humble.

“My special thanks to those of you whose donations made this evening possible.”

A group of tipsy-looking people raised their glasses in salute. They were mostly congregating across the room by the bar.

“So without any further ado, let the festivities begin!”

A bottle of champagne popped open and the party was away. But for me and Marcus, the night was just beginning…

He took my hand and guided me through crowd after crowd. Well over a thousand people, everyone from international dignitaries to NASCAR racing champions, had somehow squeezed into this one little ballroom, and everyone seemed to want to shake Marcus’ hand. And the second they were done with Marcus, of course, they all wanted to meet Mr. Taylor’s new girlfriend. In the course of just two hours, I think I shook the hands and kissed the cheeks of enough dauntingly powerful people to start my own army. And don’t think I wasn’t thinking about that possibility, by the start of hour two. The repetition was mind-numbing, and I honestly didn’t know how Marcus did it. But if he could manage, so could I.