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The Billionaire's Convenient Bride (Billionaire Cowboys Book 3) Page 5


  Why did she do that? She sounded so weird! He probably thought she was obscenely rude, now, and had already changed his mind entirely.

  She should have asked more questions. She should have dug deeper into what business opportunity he could possibly be talking about. She pulled her phone back up, but the private number had no call back option.

  Even if it did, she would probably just make a worse impression.

  Marianne sighed and rested her face on her palms as a wave of exhaustion washed over her. She was so busy working and being a mother and running a household that she sometimes forgot just how much she’d been doing, until her body forced her to rest.

  Marianne left the rest of her documents on the table and headed down the hallway to her bedroom, careful to step lightly past Zoe’s door. She made a pit stop at the bathroom to wash up quickly, and then slid into her bed. She stared up at the dark ceiling, haunted by the vision of Jay’s crystal-clear blue eyes.

  His face was so handsome in her mind’s eye. Surely, he couldn’t have been as attractive as she remembered.

  Anyway, that didn’t matter. She would focus on protecting her family, and remember to completely ignore the perfect angle of his jawline.

  Marianne eventually fell asleep, after trying not to think about Jay Parish, and what it might feel like to be held in his arms.

  Chapter 6

  Jay

  Jay’s vision blurred as he stared at the spreadsheets on his computer.

  Would she go for it?

  He shook his head and sat back, pinching the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes and tried to refocus. It was very clear that his performance had been lacking since the retirement scandal. He barely slept anymore.

  How was he supposed to meticulously check the oil numbers from the past month? How was he supposed to focus on anything?

  A gentle knock at the door served as a welcome distraction from his dark thoughts. Jeff held a manila envelope and wore a cautious expression.

  “Come on, then. What is it today?” Jay said.

  He wished he didn’t sound so curmudgeonly. Jeff was a great assistant and loyal to a fault. Between him and Logan, he didn’t have many other people in his life that he trusted implicitly.

  “Sorry, it’s just the daily mail,” Jeff said awkwardly.

  He walked in and slid the folder onto the massive pile towering over Jay at his desk.

  “Thanks, Jeff. Sorry about…all of this,” Jay said, waving in the general direction of the ceiling.

  “Nothing to be sorry for, sir. The investigative team has been working hard these past few months, and I’m sure they’ll come up with an answer soon. It will all work out.”

  It wasn’t the first time Jeff had given that speech, but somehow his faith in a positive outcome did help Jay feel a tiny bit better. Not good enough to sleep well at night, but it was a small comfort, anyway.

  “Yes. Of course,” he said. “I’ll take a look at these and send back what’s needed.”

  Jeff nodded and turned. He stopped and glanced back before he left.

  “I’m just about to head home for the day. Is there anything else I can help with?”

  Jay glanced at the clock and realized that somehow an entire work day had come and gone. He’d spent the entire day engrossed in documents or staring out into space wondering how this meeting with Marianne was going to go. It hadn’t been the greatest day ever, but then again, Jay couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a good day.

  It was a sad thought, really.

  “Sir?” Jeff asked.

  Jay realized he’d been lost in thought, his assistant hanging at the door waiting for a response. He shook his head.

  “You’ve put in a good day, Jeff. Have a great evening, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Jeff nodded and headed out the door, leaving Jay to his thoughts again. He glanced down at his outfit. Knowing he would be pleading a rather interesting case, he had dressed up a bit in black slacks and his favorite button-down shirt. He’d taken the time to shave that morning. He’d still rolled up his sleeves to the elbow for comfort, but he hoped he looked a bit better than when Marianne had first met with him.

  He couldn’t be sure, honestly.

  Jay inhaled and stood, ready to face whatever fate had in store. Either she accepted his proposal or she didn’t, and then he’d find another solution. It was as simple as that.

  The fact that she was beautiful had nothing to do with his choice. He needed a woman with moxie, someone that would take action when action needed to be taken. Marianne seemed like the kind of woman he could get along with.

  Anyway, she was the only woman he could think of that might remotely be interested in a business deal like the one he had to offer.

  Jay shut down his computer and closed his door, finding the office once again empty. It seemed as though the scandal had put a damper on everyone’s moods. Where before, the entire office would work late nights and have congenial meetings together, now, everyone stuck to their offices, showed up at the required time, and left as soon as they could.

  A few folks had even resigned out of principle, for which he really couldn’t fault them.

  Foregoing his usual sprint down the stairs, Jay tapped the button on the elevator. It wouldn’t do for him to be hot and sweaty and out of breath when meeting Marianne.

  He flushed as the more intimate double meaning of that thought hit him, and he shook it from his mind. Marianne was not a love interest. She was barely a work acquaintance. Any lustful thoughts were to be neatly stored away, out of respect for her.

  So there.

  The elevator arrived, and it was a quick ride down to the first floor as Jay yawned to pop his ears. When the doors opened, he stepped into a busy lobby as all the workers dashed toward the doors on their way home. He stepped out into the warm Texas air and glanced around, searching for his date.

  Not that it was a date, really. A business meeting, surely, and a casual one.

  He craned his neck, glancing over the heads of those around him until his gaze collided with a pair of stunning green eyes.

  Were they that green before?

  She brushed a strand of light brown hair behind her ear, and he realized that she looked different with her hair down. When last they’d met, she’d had her hair up, revealing more of her face. Somehow, with it down, she seemed more mysterious.

  More alluring.

  He walked over to her, their gazes locked as he approached near enough to greet her.

  “Thank you for coming out,” he said.

  She nodded and pushed her hair behind her ear again, a clear sign that she was nervous.

  What could she possibly be nervous about? He was the one with a deal on the line.

  “Sure. Where are we headed?”

  “This way,” he said, gesturing down the sidewalk. “There’s a small place I like to frequent when having private conversations.”

  “Okay,” she said, slightly breathless.

  Her nerves instantly rubbed off on him, and he slid his hands into his pockets to keep from fidgeting. They fell in step together and walked in silence for a few blocks. Jay tried to think of something witty to say, but he couldn’t find anything in his brain that didn’t sound totally stupid.

  What was wrong with him?

  Jay was no stranger to women. He’d had plenty of relationships with plenty of girls who usually tended to run for the hills the moment they didn’t get their way. He used the term “girls” on purpose. There was a big difference between a girl and a woman. A woman could handle herself with grace and dignity. She did what she needed to do to survive in a difficult world, and she had a maturity about her that rose above pettiness.

  Marianne, for example, struck him as such a person.

  “This is it,” he said, realizing that they were about to pass his favorite watering hole, The Texas Rose.

  He pulled open the door and she hesitated before walking past him.

  “Thanks
,” she mumbled.

  “Yep,” he said.

  As he closed the door behind him, he watched as she missed the sign warning that there was a small step, and as she moved forward, her foot caught and she nearly tumbled over. Instinct took over, and he leaned forward to catch her, which he did, the two of them frozen as she stared up into his eyes.

  Dear lord, she was stunning.

  “Thanks,” she said again.

  She cleared her throat and moved to stand, and he took a step back, his hand lingering on her arm until she was fully upright again.

  “Anytime. Sorry. Should have warned you about that.”

  “No, really. I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “Mr. Parish! Welcome back, sir. Your booth is ready for you, as ever.”

  The hostess beamed at him and cast a curious glance at Marianne, who was also taking in the scenery of the upscale bar. Jay nodded and gestured toward the back.

  “Just this way,” he said.

  Marianne walked alongside him until they reached a VIP section, complete with its own bouncer.

  “Hal,” Jay said, nodding at the guard. The bulky man nodded back and opened the velvet rope barrier for the two of them to step inside.

  They sat down in his private booth, Marianne sitting as far away from him as possible.

  “You don’t like me?” he asked.

  That startled her. She literally jumped at the statement, then her wide eyes darted toward the ground.

  “I never said that,” she said.

  She looked up, then, and it was difficult to focus when his stomach was experiencing such wild sensations. She had an effect on him that he’d never felt before with anyone, and in that moment, he knew he’d made the right choice asking her out.

  This was going to work. It had to.

  “Why am I here?” she asked.

  Before he could answer, a server arrived with a bottle of the most expensive champagne they had and two flutes. She popped open the bottle and poured them each a glass, then nodded as she made a quick exit.

  Jay held up his flute to clink glasses, but she left hers on the table, untouched.

  “Do you not like champagne? I can order you anything you want,” he said.

  “I just don’t want to drink until I know why we’re here. What are your intentions?” she asked.

  He couldn’t stop his lips from tilting up at that.

  “I’m sorry, did we transport back to Victorian England? My intentions?”

  A blush erupted on her cheeks, and the color gave her a faint sort of glow. He liked making her blush, but he didn’t want her to be uneasy.

  “Why do you think you’re here?” he asked, truly curious.

  Perhaps if he could get to the root of her anxiety quickly, he could squash it just as fast.

  She shrugged, then reached for the champagne and took a bracing drink before she looked him in the eye with what was clearly false bravado.

  “I can’t give you the money back. I put it in the bank yesterday.”

  Ah, so it was the money.

  It was always the money.

  “I don’t want it,” he said. “Now, does that soothe your nerves?”

  “I’m not nervous,” she said, and he laughed.

  She crossed her arms and glared at him. Not a great start. He held up his hands in a placating gesture.

  “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you, I promise. It’s just, you really would make a terrible poker player.”

  “And what is that supposed to mean?” she asked.

  “It means that I can tell you’re nervous, and I would like you to feel at ease. In fact, I’m here to see if you would like to make more money.”

  Her eyes widened at that, but she relaxed her shoulders in a clear attempt to appear calm.

  The woman was an open book, honestly.

  “How so? Some kind of promotion?” she asked.

  “Kind of,” he said.

  He hesitated, then. He didn’t honestly know if he could trust her with his private information, but he didn’t really have a choice. If she was willing to go along, she would need to be in the know.

  “Can I trust you with sensitive information, Marianne?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  Jay leaned in and lowered his voice. She leaned in to better hear him, and he caught the scent of vanilla on her skin.

  It was absolutely delectable.

  He shook off the thought and launched into his tale.

  “I’m in a bit of a tight spot, you see. Once the retirement funds went missing and we launched the investigation into foul doings, the government discovered that I’m not exactly a US citizen, as I once thought.”

  Marianne’s eyebrows furrowed as she took in that bit of information.

  “How do they know that?”

  “I was adopted,” he said. “From a country in eastern Europe. Apparently, my parents found themselves in a situation…anyway, it’s complicated. The point is, I have very few options to stay in this country, and one of them—the easiest one—would be to obtain a green card through marriage.”

  He paused and waited for her to say something. When she didn’t, he continued on.

  “These days, you have to prove to some extent that the romance is real, so it would need to involve a certain veneer of reality. We couldn’t simply run off to Vegas, for example. We need to learn about one another. Go on dates. Sell the whirlwind romance a bit before tying the knot.”

  “And who exactly will you be marrying?” she asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” he asked. “You came into my office yesterday in dire need of funds. That took guts. That’s what I’m looking for. I need someone that understands that sometimes you have to do whatever it takes to get what you want.”

  “So, the fact that I owe you ten grand has nothing to do with it?” she asked.

  He shook his head.

  “Nope. In fact, if you decide to go through with this—and it would be a temporary business engagement—I assure you, I would expect nothing of you beyond some very light PDA to get the point across—it can stop at hand holding if you like—and in exchange, I’ll make sure you’ll never have to worry about money again.”

  He sat back and took a drink, then, happy to have that off his shoulders. She stared at him in stunned silence, an inner battle playing itself out right on her face. Clearly, this was not an easy decision, which he was hopeful for. Marianne wasn’t a gold digger just looking for a way up.

  Whatever she needed the money for, it meant something more.

  “Look, I know that this is a big ask,” he said. “I didn’t expect you to have an answer right away. Take some time to think about it, and let me know what your answer is.”

  He reached into his wallet and slid a card across the table to her, his private cell phone number inscribed on the back.

  “No rush,” he said.

  He stood and walked away, then, leaving her in stunned silence to consider his offer.

  No rush? He could be kicked out of the country any day! He released his breath on the way out, and sent up a little wish to the sky.

  Please, let this work out.

  It was all in her hands now.

  Chapter 7

  Marianne

  Marianne stared into space until a piercing beep demolished her train of thought.

  “Mom!”

  Zoe coughed as she ran over to the stove. The stir-fry that Marianne had been, well, stirring, had turned to charcoal beneath her wooden spoon. Smoke billowed up into her face as she pulled the pan from the burner and set it aside. She threw open a window and grabbed a chair, standing on it to press the button to turn off the smoke detector.

  Marianne grabbed a hand towel and waved it around the apartment. Zoe plucked a towel from the bathroom and did the same, holding her hand over her nose.

  “That smells yucky,” she observed.

  She wasn’t wrong.

  Marianne sighed.

  “Sorry, kiddo,” she said. �
��I guess I got distracted.”

  That was the biggest understatement of all time. Marianne was consumed by inner conflict, completely unsure of what to do about Jay’s proposal.

  Dear lord, an actual proposal. From one of the richest men in the world.

  A man that had been singlehandedly responsible for the struggle of her family, the people she loved most.

  “Mama! What is going on with you?” Zoe asked, her little voice laced with frustration.

  “Just thinking about work stuff. Sorry,” Marianne said.

  Some example she was being for her impressionable young daughter. Zoe continued to wave the towel as the smoke dissipated, but the scent of burning remained. Marianne’s eyes were watering from it, which she didn’t even realize until a tear escaped from her eye and slid down her cheek.

  “What do you say to pizza night?” Marianne asked.

  “Yes!” Zoe exclaimed.

  She bolted to the front door and slid into her shoes as Marianne grabbed her purse off the table. She was grateful that pizza was even an option. Until recently, they had only the bare minimum for food, and eating out was a no-go.

  She had Jay to thank for that.

  “Come on!” Zoe said. She was out the door and out of sight before Marianne had a chance to register that she was being left behind.

  “Hey, wait for me!” she called.

  She headed out the door and locked it behind her, taking the stairs two at a time until she found her precocious little girl waiting on the front stoop of the building.

  “I win,” Zoe said, glancing up with a grin.

  “Yeah, you win,” Marianne said. She wrapped an arm around Zoe’s shoulders as they fell in step together, walking the short distance to the local pizza parlor.

  It wasn’t anything special, but the food was always delicious. A jingle of bells rang as Marianne opened the door, and the warm scent of baking pizza washed over them.

  “This smells a lot better than the apartment,” Zoe observed.

  “You can say that again,” Marianne agreed.

  “Will it smell like that all night?” Zoe asked.