Wanted: Billionaire's Wife

“I have a plan,” he responded. His gaze caught Danica’s. It brimmed with many things, chief among them long-held pain mixed with frustrated exasperation.

And apology. To her. For exposing her to this. Concern, for any discomfort his parents caused her. Her heart squeezed so hard, she was surprised she could still breathe.

He broke contact to look at his parents. “And the plan is we’re leaving. Ready?” He offered his hand to Danica.

No. She wasn’t ready. She didn’t know what to do. What to say. Phoebe wasn’t wrong. Danica might still be around for the coming Christmas, but she wouldn’t be present for Christmases further in the future. Her relationship with Luke was indeed, from a certain point of view, malarkey.

But not for the reasons Phoebe inferred. Danica didn’t want anything from Luke or his family. Certainly not money—although, her guilty conscience piped up, she accepted the consulting gig because of the dollars he promised her. But it wasn’t the reason why you agreed to the marriage, her libido shot back.

Her heart remained silent, but only because she knew what it would say. She was in love with Luke. Had been, ever since their dinner at the taqueria.

It was also hopeless.

She rose to her feet, wincing at the loud noise as the metal chair scraped across the tiled patio floor. “Mrs. Ailes, I understand your concern. This is the first time you’ve met me, and I’m married to your son. I would be suspicious if I were in your shoes too.”

Luke’s gaze flashed a warning signal she would be stupid to ignore.

She did so anyway. “I’ll tell you the truth. Your son—”

“Danica.” Luke’s tone could have carved granite. He wasn’t cautioning her to stop speaking. He was demanding.

“Your son,” she started again, despite the typhoon of disapproval aimed in her direction, “is a very special man. I didn’t want to fall in love with him. I fought it.” Did I ever. “But the more time I spent in his presence, the more it was inevitable.”

She didn’t dare look at Luke. Still, she sensed he held himself ramrod straight, not moving a muscle. “I know this marriage is sudden, but the emotion is real.” On my side, at least.

She took a deep breath, and then slowly let it out. “I can’t impress you. But you should be very impressed by your son. He deserves your trust and support, in all matters. Including who he marries.” Whoever she will be, after I’m long gone.

Phoebe stared at Danica throughout her speech, her dark blue gaze unblinking. But at the end, she raised one perfectly groomed eyebrow and nodded, ever so slightly.

“That was a beautiful speech, my dear,” Jonathan said. “Just beautiful.” He turned to his ex-wife. “See, Phoebe, it won’t be a problem getting her to sign a postnup even though the wedding already occurred. You always did worry over trivial things.” He clapped his hands together. “Well, now that we have that settled, let’s have a meal. Sit back down, you two.”

Danica barely heard him over the whooshing of her pulse beating loudly in her ears. She didn’t dare look at Luke. “I need to visit the ladies’ room. You three talk.” She walked-ran toward the dim, cool interior of the restaurant.

But once she was inside, shivering in the air conditioning, she did not turn down the hallway the hostess indicated to her. Instead she turned right, through the central dining room toward the main exit to the street, and kept walking.

She would never get used to Luke’s world. Could never adjust. Ski chalets in Vail, country clubs, social rosters...she shook her head. It was as if she had spent the last half hour in another country. Scotland, maybe. Or Australia. Somewhere where she understood the basic words, but the context was wholly new.

She took in her surroundings for the first time. The main street was lined with restaurants and shops, the kind that had hand-painted wooden signs on the outside but scarves that cost as much as a monthly payment on her student loans displayed inside. A block away she spotted a turquoise bench, flanked by terracotta pots bursting with red geraniums. It was a bit too cheerful for her present mood, but at least she could sit and contemplate her next move.