Billionaire Bad Boy's Fake Bride

The slippery bastard chose that moment to spin her, forcing her away from close proximity and ending her tirade, and she wasn’t going to project it for those around them to hear. She didn’t know these people, and she didn’t owe them anything, so she shouldn’t care what they thought of her, but it was humbling to realize she did. She wanted to fit in and not be remembered as the loudmouth former associate of Mr. Blackwell.

Or the fiancée, she remembered with another surge of anger as she clung to him when he pulled her back from the spin. “I want answers, and I want them now.”

He pressed his lips against her cheek in a tender gesture that also brought his lips near her ear. “Do me a favor and play along for another hour. Then we’ll get out of here, and I’ll tell you everything.

She was fully prepared to tell him no, to refuse the idea completely, but then she made the mistake of looking into his eyes again. She could see the quiet desperation there, and though she didn’t want it to, her anger faded slightly, even as her bewilderment grew. It was clear Connor was in over his head, which was a scenario she had never expected to hear about, much less witness, especially first-hand.

He needed her help, and that shouldn’t sway her, but she was dumb enough to let her hard-nosed stance soften. She gave him a brief nod, and when he moved his lips to hers, she wasn’t entirely certain if this performance was for his father, Brenda, the crowd around them, or perhaps even for him?

The idea was heady and almost as insane as this whole evening already. A man like him wouldn’t go for a girl like her, and she shouldn’t want him to anyway. They had nothing in common and were nothing alike, and even though his engagement ring rested on her finger, it meant nothing. Just like she meant nothing to him. He could replace her in a heartbeat, and if he didn’t provide a good enough explanation and an escape plan for whatever was going on here, he would have to do so.

With three times her annual salary as a bonus, she could retire from her job as his assistant and have time to find something else. A pang shot through her chest at the idea, and she tried to squash the reaction. She had to do what was best for her, and she was certain what was best for her had nothing to do with Connor Blackwell, at least not getting more involved than she was in his daily life at the moment.

***

He drove her home after the party, trying to be quiet and unobtrusive as she went next-door to bring home her brother. He’d expected a younger kid, so it was a bit startling to see a young man in his late teens or early twenties walking in behind Angelina. He smiled at him, but the kid didn’t look his way. And though he had an adult stature, his demeanor suggested he was still childlike.

“Kevin, this is Mr. Blackwell, my boss.” Angelina introduced him, and she seemed unfazed when her brother didn’t even look in his direction. He sent her a questioning look, and when she nodded, he said, “Hello, Kevin. It’s nice to meet you.”

Very briefly, the young man’s dark eyes flicked in his direction, but almost immediately drifted away again. “Tired,” he said to Angelina with a hint of whining in his tone.

“I know, big guy. Let me tuck you in.” She looked over at Connor, her eyes daring him to leave before she returned. “I’ll be back to deal with you after I get him settled. Don’t even think about departing.”

He lifted his hands, uncertain what prompted him to provoke her, but unable to deny he enjoyed the way her eyes flashed with rage when he said, “I wouldn’t leave my fiancée just hours after getting engaged.”

She glared at him, but didn’t answer as she steered her much larger brother through the living room and down the hallway. When she disappeared from sight, he took the opportunity to snoop through her living room, hoping to learn a little bit more about his assistant.

It was a small apartment, but scrupulously clean, and the furniture was in decent shape, though clearly on the cheap end. There were pictures all over the walls, mostly of a man in his forties with a younger version of Angelina in almost every picture, and Kevin beside her in most of those as well. There was also an older woman in many of the pictures, but no woman who was obviously the right age to be the mother.

That roused his curiosity, and by studying the middle-aged man and the older woman, he was fairly confident in discerning they were related. Perhaps she was his mother, which added another element to the puzzle he was piecing together.

It appeared Angelina and Kevin had been raised by their father and grandmother, and judging from the absence of the man in pictures as the girl and boy got older, he must have passed away sometime when she was in high school. The picture of a beaming Angelina holding up her high school diploma, complete in graduation regalia, but with only the older woman at her side, supported that supposition.

When she returned to her living room almost a half-hour later, she looked frazzled and far removed from the polished woman who had stood by his side for most of the evening. He eyed her with concern as she collapsed on the couch, finally noting she had taken time to change out of her black dress into comfortable lounge pants and an oversized T-shirt. Trying to ease her into the forthcoming conversation, he pointed to a random picture, which showed the older woman, the man, and younger versions of Angelina and Kevin. “Where was this?”

“At the Adirondacks,” she said with a tired sigh. “My father used to like to go there every year to get away from the city and show us nature.” She shuddered slightly. “I’ve seen enough nature in Central Park to last me forever, but it was something that Kevin always responded well to, which made it worth going.” A hint of sadness flashed across her features. “After my father passed away, we never went back. There wasn’t really the money to do it, plus Granny and I couldn’t be sure we could manage Kevin between just the two of us.”

Cautiously, he approached the couch where she sat and took a seat beside her, leaving a cushion between them. The couch was kind of mushy, and he winced a little bit when a spring jabbed him in the left buttock. Trying to hide the reaction, he attempted more small talk, hoping it would facilitate getting to know each other and make her more receptive to his request to continue the façade. “Your brother is autistic?”

She nodded. “He’s always been distant, and sometimes prone to angry outbursts, but it’s definitely gotten worse over the last several months.” Angelina sighed heavily. “His doctor has recommended he move to a facility, where he’ll get full-time care and reach his full potential, but I can’t…couldn’t afford it…until now. I’ve also kept him home because I know Granny would hate putting him anywhere, but I can’t handle him any longer and haven’t really been able to since Granny died eighteen months ago.”

He frowned, trying to remember her mentioning anything about her grandmother’s passing around that time frame. “Did you take time off or anything? I don’t recall you saying anything about it.”

She lifted her shoulder in a half-shrug. “We don’t have that kind of working relationship, Connor. Mr. Blackwell,” she corrected with a determined set of her lips, one that boded ill for him. “Until this evening, we had the kind of relationship where I did what you told me, and you sent me a paycheck for doing so every two weeks. Our communications were professional and certainly didn’t involve fancy parties or fake engagements.”

As she spoke, she started tugging at the ring on her finger, her irritation obvious when she frowned down at it. “The damn thing was a perfect fit earlier, so why can’t I take it off my finger now?”

Perhaps it was a touch of divine intervention, but he didn’t offer that suggestion even jokingly. He figured she might slap him if he said something so lighthearted at the moment. “Perhaps your finger swelled. All that so

dium in the hors d’oeuvres?” he suggested tentatively.

She rolled her eyes at him, but leaned back against the couch again, clearly abandoning the attempt to get the ring off, at least for the moment. “I’m sure it will come off by tomorrow morning, and I’ll return it then.”

“I wish you wouldn’t. I mean, at least for a little while,” he hastened to add upon seeing her look of panic. “I really need you to play along with this for a while, Angelina.” He allowed a hint of desperation to show in his gaze.

She glared at him, appearing unmoved, but he was certain she wasn’t completely impervious to his pathetic ass. “What is going on?”

“My father was terrified after my accident.”

“Who wasn’t?” she muttered.

At least he thought that was what she said under her breath, but he couldn’t be certain, and it really made no sense that she would be terrified at the thought of losing him. With a slight frown, he said, “I guess my life flashed before his eyes, and he didn’t like what he saw. He wants me to leave a legacy and start a family. He gave me an ultimatum tonight, which was essentially that if I didn’t agree to marry Brenda, he was going to sell the company out from under me and my sister Lizzie and give it all to charity. Or maybe he’s going to sign it over to charity. I don’t remember exactly, because I was upset at the time.”

She stared at him impassively, her expression revealing nothing. “And why am I being dragged into your family drama if you were supposed to marry that Brenda?” The way she said the other woman’s name held a note of distaste.

That rose his hackles, but he struggled not to call her on her tone. The two women had barely had a chance to get to know each other, and he was certain they would warm up to each other eventually—not that it really mattered, because Angelina was only his fiancée until he could maneuver a way out of the situation for both of them.