Wanted: Billionaire's Wife

“Danica?”

Too late, she realized he had continued to speak. “I’m sorry?”

“I said this wasn’t the way I wanted to ask you. I did want to take you to lunch. Irene forced the timetable.”

“I don’t—you mean this wasn’t just a spur-of-the-moment plan when you saw Irene?” Her heart leapt, just a little.

“I thought of it last night. After you left.” His mouth twisted and he reached out to cup her cheek, a brief caress that shouldn’t cause her blood to ignite but... “I couldn’t sleep.”

She shouldn’t, in all fairness both to him and to her, agree to marry him. She deserved better than a marriage proposition with all the romance of an annual report presented to the board of directors. He deserved better too, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

She had sworn off being involved with men who cared more about their reputation than they did about her. She had been already hurt, badly, by a boyfriend who used people as a stepping stone to getting what he wanted. She swore to never again let her heart be used in that manner.

But her bed was a different matter, as the liquid heat gathering deep in her belly reminded her. As long as she remembered this was a business deal, why not continue to have the best sex imaginable? She nodded, licking her very dry lips. “Yes,” she said, her voice rough.

“Yes?” His gaze traced the contours of her mouth.

“Yes,” she repeated, but held up her hand when he stepped closer. “Until Ruby Hawk is acquired by the Stavros Group.”

His blue eyes darkened, but otherwise he showed no reaction. Was he elated? Deflated? She wished she knew. Finally, a corner of his mouth dented his cheek. “Until the acquisition goes through.”

“Deal.” She held out her hand to be shaken. He drew her into his arms instead, enveloping her with his strength and warmth. She fought the urge to place her head on his chest, close her eyes and breathe in his scent.

Don’t get attached, she sternly warned herself.

“The clock starts now,” he rumbled. Right before his mouth met hers, he whispered, “I’m going to make the time count.”

Her last thought, before all ability to form coherent sentences melted away, was her warning came too late.

Eight

In a perfect world, Danica would be thrilled. It was her wedding day. Her groom was a shining star who stood out even in Silicon Valley’s crowded galaxy. Her family wouldn’t have a financial worry for the foreseeable future. Matt’s therapy could continue until he didn’t need it, not end when an insurance company cut off the funds. She should be the happiest person walking through the metal detectors at the entrance to the San Mateo County courthouse at that moment.

She was petrified.

In less than twenty-four hours, Luke somehow managed to get a marriage license and arrange for a courthouse ceremony, to be held at two thirty in the afternoon on the dot. The only thing she oversaw was showing up. Which she managed to do, barely, after an hours-long wrestling match with her conscience in the wee hours of the night and a long talk with her roommate, Mai, in the morning.

She inhaled, counted to three, then exhaled. This was strictly business. They had a contract, drawn up after he left her office yesterday. She was walking into this marriage with her eyes open.

She had only herself to blame if she went into it with her emotions wide open too.

“Danica!” Luke was already in the waiting area, early. His crisp azure blue shirt matched his eyes, and his charcoal suit fit him as if it had been made for him, as it no doubt had been. Judging by the looks thrown their way by the others nearby, she was considered to be a lucky bride indeed.

If only they knew.

“Hey. You’re here.” She managed to sound normal. Inside, she was shaking so hard, she was surprised she could keep her eyes focused.

“You look...” His voice trailed off. “You wore your hair down.” He tucked a curl behind her ear, her skin burning where he brushed it. “You’re beautiful.”

A white lacy gown would have been absurd under the circumstances, but when she saw the pink floral shift dress hanging in the window of a Palo Alto boutique, she went ahead and splurged. “Thanks,” she said, suddenly shy from all the eyes on them. She turned her head, so his kiss landed on her cheek. “I don’t see Aisha. Let me call her.”