The Cowboy's All-Business Bride (Billionaire Cowboys Book 5) Read online

  Or, suppose she didn’t need any money at all, thanks to her mother’s cousin. It could be that no amount of money Kane could offer would be enough for her to enter into an arrangement with him.

  Then again, the woman lived in a small apartment where the halls smelled musty. If she had money or was used to fine things, why not move into a nicer place?

  “What’s your favorite restaurant in Austin?” Leyla asked.

  “Hm.” He took his time, savoring a sip of wine. “There’s this little barbecue place. It’s not very popular, and I can’t understand why. I swear, it’s the best brisket in the whole city.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Where is it?”

  “Off Oak street, right between this vintage store and a record spot.”

  “Oh my God!” Leyla clapped her hands together. “I love that place!”

  His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really?”

  “Yes. My mom and I found it, like, super randomly years ago, and we’ve been…” Her lashes fluttered, and her voice dropped. “I mean, we used to go a lot. She passed away a few months ago.”

  Kane’s heart twisted. That’s right.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Leyla nodded, not looking at him. “Thanks. It was cancer.”

  A lump formed in his throat. “My dad died from cancer as well.”

  “Really?” Her gaze finally found his.

  “Yes.” He kept his eyes on her chocolate ones. “Six months ago.”

  “Wow,” Leyla breathed. “That wasn’t long ago.”

  “Neither was losing your mom.”

  “Sometimes it seems like just yesterday,” she whispered, “and sometimes it seems lifetimes ago.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  “That’s the weirdest part.” She wrapped her fingers around her wine glass, started to take a drink, reconsidered, and just stared at it instead.

  “And sometimes you don’t know what’s worse. Feeling they’ve been gone hours, or feeling they’ve been gone so long it’s hard to even remember them.”

  Leyla’s eyes shone with emotion. “I’m sorry for your loss. Your dad, he started ClayFuel, didn’t he?”

  “Did the name give it away?”

  “No,” she said on a laugh. “It was only a lucky guess.”

  Kane steepled his hands and propped his elbows on the table. “He started it decades ago.”

  “And you dreamed of growing up and being just like him?”

  “Hardly.” He barked out a laugh. “For most of my life, my biggest goal was to be everything my father wasn’t. Reactive and foolish, I know, but that’s the way I was for a long time.”

  “And then he got sick and your perspective changed.”

  He opened his mouth, but he couldn’t find the words. Leyla had already stolen them. She knew him so well, even though they were barely more than strangers.

  “It was the same with me,” she said. “It’s funny, but I never really thought about life without my mom. She’d always been there, so I figured she always would be.”

  “And how did your outlook change once she was diagnosed?”

  Her lashes fluttered. “For the first time, I saw how short life really is, how you’re a fool if you take any of the time you’re given for granted. I turned around and couldn’t believe how the years had gone by. I was in my late twenties, almost thirty, and had only ever half committed to the paths I’d chosen.”

  “Do you mean acting?”

  “That, yes. I always wanted to be an actress, ever since I was really little. I really believed I would become big one day, too. That it was my destiny. And then, I got older.”

  “And you stopped believing in yourself?”

  “It became touch-and-go.” Her smile was sad. “I was never really fully committed to my dream. With my mom gone, though…”

  She drew a long breath. “It’s kind of all I have, now. Other than my friends. I don’t have any family. I never knew my dad, or even who he was.” Leyla grimaced. “Sorry. You didn’t ask for my life story.”

  “But I want to hear it,” he quickly said.

  For more reasons than she knew.

  “That’s basically it.” She turned her palm up. “All I had was my mom and my friends, and now, I have my friends and acting.” Her lips twisted as she thought about it some more. “Well, I do have my personal goals.”

  Kane nodded. “Mind if I ask about those?”

  “They’re all about bettering myself. Ones that include being more understanding, more confident.”

  “You certainly have the confidence nailed down. I’ll tell you that.”

  Leyla’s smile made his mouth water. Her lips probably tasted like candy.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “And filmmaking too, right? You mentioned a film you’re making.”

  He really didn’t need to be wondering about the taste of her lips. They were strictly off-limits.

  “Yes. It’s loosely based on my mom. It’s… it’s hit some snags, but I’m still hopeful.”

  “Which part of your mom’s life?”

  “The part about being a single parent and an immigrant.”

  Kane nodded. So, nothing about being royalty.

  The appetizers arrived, and they fell into silence for a minute while tasting them. Leyla’s face lit up at the first bite of eggplant, and seeing her happy made Kane want to keep getting her there.

  “I’ve actually never liked eggplant, you know,” she said, “but this is amazing.”

  “It’s one of their best dishes, for sure.”

  She used her cloth napkin to delicately dab the corners of her mouth. Not one bit of lipstick smudged.

  “You said you never wanted to be like your father. What, then? What did you want to be when you grew up? What were you doing before you took over ClayFuel?”

  Kane hesitated. Not everything in his past was worth being proud of.

  “I liked to party,” he said sheepishly.

  An easy internet search would bring up some of his shenanigans from the past. There was no hiding them. In a matter of a couple minutes, if she wanted, Leyla could find photos of him stepping out of nightclubs at four in the morning with models or partying on a friend’s yacht in the Caribbean.

  “Oh?” She raised an eyebrow. “That’s what all those awards in your office are from?”

  “No,” Kane laughed. “I competed in rodeos.”

  “That’s so cool!”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yes.” She nodded emphatically. “But you don’t do that anymore?”

  “It’s been a while.” He paused, lost in a sweet memory of the last time he was on a horse. “I have a ranch outside of the city. My friend is always trying to get me out there. We started competing together back in high school.”

  “Wow,” she murmured. “My best friend and I watch reality TV and go to the gym together. You guys are way more interesting than us.”

  “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that.” He laughed.

  A glance at his watch revealed it was almost eight thirty. How was time flying by so fast?

  He’d planned on bringing up the fake marriage around dessert. By then, they’d—hopefully—be a bit more comfortable with each other.

  But now, dessert felt so close, and he didn’t want to ask a pretty girl he was flirting with if she’d marry him for a million dollars so that he could close a business deal.

  He merely wanted to enjoy the evening and forget that he’d asked Leyla out for any reason other than that he was interested in her.

  “Kane Clayton?” A middle-aged man slowed his walk and squinted in the dim lighting. “Are you Kane Clayton?”

  Heat filled Kane’s face. Since he was good with faces, he knew he’d never met this man before.

  A couple people at the nearest table turned in interest.

  “Why, it is you.” The man offered his hand for a shake.

  Kane had no choice but to stand up and take the hand. He couldn’t be rude.


  “Why, your daddy made this state what it is today,” the man said.

  Talk about a gross exaggeration. Still, the compliment felt good. It was the attention of half the restaurant that didn’t.

  “Thank you, sir. It makes me proud to hear you say that.” With a firm and final shake, he released the man’s hand and sat back down.

  The man continued on his way, but a handful of people put their heads together and whispered or threw looks Kane’s way.

  “You get recognized much?” Leyla asked.

  “Not much.” He kept both his head and voice down. “But it’s annoying when it does happen.”

  “I wouldn’t guess that from you. At the audition, you seemed fine with everyone tripping over their feet to please you.”

  He smirked, appreciating her honesty. “That’s at work. In my personal life, it’s another matter. I don’t get much downtime anymore, and that makes it even more important to me. My private life… I’d rather it stay exactly that.”

  “Understandably.”

  The rest of the meal passed with Kane describing the ranch he’d bought five years ago in great detail to her. He would have felt like he was hogging the conversation, except that she kept asking for more. As Leyla explained, she loved riding horses and hiking, but didn’t get to do either as much as she wanted to.

  “I could take you out there sometime,” he said.

  He meant it, too. If she accepted his offer, they’d have to spend a lot of time together if they wanted people to buy the idea that they were a couple.

  “That would be awesome. I’d really love that.”

  The waiter set the tiramisu they’d ordered between them. Leyla picked up a spoon, surveying it like she was looking for the best place to start.

  Finally, she took a bite of the tip. “Mm. Amazing.” Her eyes lifted to his. “Aren’t you gonna have any?”

  Kane’s stomach churned. He wasn’t sure he could stomach one bite.

  Dessert had arrived. Time to pop the question.

  Except, in the most untraditional way possible.

  He forced a smile. “You go ahead. I’m full from the pasta.”

  “I am, too, but this is the kind of dessert you can’t help but eat. Trust me on this.”

  She lifted a piece of tiramisu to his lips. Not wanting to turn her down, he ate what was offered.

  “See?” Leyla’s eyes went round. “Don’t you want more?”

  If she was feeding it to him, heck yeah.

  “It is pretty darn good,” he admitted.

  They finished the dessert, her full lips drawing his eyes over and over again. It took all his focus to not stare at them.

  By the time they finished and Kane paid the check, a tightness had settled in his stomach. He should have brought up the proposal at dinner, but now, they were walking to his car.

  “It’s nice tonight.” Leyla turned her face to the balmy sky. A soft gush of wind lifted her hair. Under the streetlights, she glowed.

  “How about we keep walking?” he suggested.

  A grin stretched across her face.

  Walking was good. It would help him work up the nerve to say what he needed to.

  But with each step they took, the further they got from any break in the conversation. Movies. Books. They touched on it all, and whenever Leyla got excited about something, she speed-talked.

  Sometimes Kane couldn’t even understand what she said, but man, he liked seeing her animated.

  In what seemed like no time at all, they’d made it around the block. He had no choice but to unlock the car and drive her home.

  At a stoplight, the conversation lagged along with the traffic. Perfect timing.

  He opened his mouth, the question on the tip of his tongue.

  If I offered you a generous amount of money, would you agree to marry me?

  The light changed to green. He hit the gas pedal.

  Damn.

  He couldn’t do it. The night was too perfect.

  As much as Kane obsessed about the future of ClayFuel, he couldn’t bring himself to mar a beautiful evening with an even more beautiful woman for the sake of it.

  “That’s my building,” she pointed.

  “Oops. Sorry.”

  He’d been lost in his head and had to drive to the end of the block and turn around. In front of Leyla’s building, he rushed around the car to get her door, but she’d beat him to it.

  “I was going to open that for you,” he said as she put out first one long leg and then another.

  She bit into a smile. “Sorry. I guess I’m not used to such chivalry.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Closing her door, he offered his arm.

  Her fingers were light against his sleeve, and yet even through his suit, the touch had an effect. The feel of her hand, just like her mere presence, shook him into a hyperaware state.

  They walked slowly up to the building, but the trip was still too short. With Leyla, even a walk across the whole city would take too long.

  “Tonight was really nice,” she said as they came to a stop in front of her apartment.

  Her hand slid off his arm, fingertips grazing the top of his hand the slightest bit before they drew back.

  “I had a great time. Thank you for agreeing to dinner with me,” Kane said.

  “And we didn’t even talk about work together,” she said on a laugh. “You kept your promise. It was all personal. No business.”

  A tightness in Kane’s abdomen made him feel like he might fold over. Leyla was hesitating by the door, her dark eyes sparkling.

  He burned to kiss her. To draw her into his arms and hold her until the night petered out and the sun rose.

  But he wouldn’t.

  He’d chickened out that night and hadn’t brought up his offer, but he would have to do it sooner or later. Even though his feelings about the situation were complicated, he didn’t want her to experience the same.

  Leyla, hopefully, would soon be playing the role of his wife. It would be a dishonor to make the job any more complicated than it would naturally be.

  No matter what, they couldn’t get personally involved.

  “Thank you, again.” Kane smiled, keeping his arms firmly at his sides. “I hope you sleep well.”

  Her lashes fluttered as it dawned on her that he was about to walk away. Ever the actress, though, she was composed a second later.

  “You, too. Good night.”

  Stepping back, he watched her go into her apartment.

  The whole walk to the car, Kane kicked himself. For what, he wasn’t really sure.

  Was it because he’d come up with a great plan to drill for oil in Sharrain, and now he was having trouble implementing it? Was it because he was leading Leyla on when that was the last thing he wanted to do? Or was it because, at a couple different times in the evening, he’d gotten dangerously close to saying screw the whole fake marriage plan?

  It was all of those things.

  But it didn’t matter. There was an oil deal to be made, and Kane was a Clayton. He pushed through until he got what he came for.

  No exceptions.

  Chapter 7

  Leyla

  “Is that your natural lip color? Oh my God, I love it.” The makeup artist ran her fingertips along the display of lipsticks she’d set up.

  “Yeah.” Leyla smiled. “And thank you.”

  “I’m just gonna add some shine to them, I think. If the director wants a brighter or deeper color, we can always fix that.”

  The morning of the first ClayFuel shoot should have been an exciting one. After all, it was barely a week after she’d gotten the job, the set was a fifteen-minute drive from her apartment, and the pay was great.

  But some other things in life hadn’t been equally great.

  Namely, things with Kane.

  Because, for some reason she couldn’t fathom, she hadn’t heard from him all week.

  When he hadn’t kissed her after their date, she had assumed he was
trying to be a gentleman and not too forward after only one evening together. Surely, when they went out the next time, he’d be more comfortable making a move.

  Seven days later, and there still hadn’t been a next time. In fact, she hadn’t heard from him at all. No calls. No texts. Not even any contact in order to touch base about the upcoming shoot.

  It was like they’d never met.

  She didn’t want to be disappointed, but she was. She’d let her hopes get up, and for what? An evening where she’d only seemed to connect with another person?

  Apparently, Kane hadn’t felt the same things she had. It was time to let it go.

  There would be other men. Right then, she needed to focus on work.

  Her hair and makeup done, she walked downstairs and to the set, which was the front yard of a suburban house. The first ClayFuel shoot took place in an everyday American neighborhood, and would feature her walking down the sidewalk while addressing the camera, kids playing in the background and cheery neighbors washing their cars and checking their mailboxes.

  For the day, the production company had rented a two-story house. Not only would they film the beginning of the commercial on the front porch as Leyla walked out of her “home,” but they were also staging inside.

  In other words, upstairs was where all the equipment went, along with the actors and crew members when they weren’t working.

  Nervous about the lengthy lines, she’d rehearsed them tirelessly over the last few days. The constant repetition had proven to be a good distraction from thoughts of Kane. On the set now, though, she felt like she saw him everywhere.

  By lunch, she was half convinced she was going crazy. That is, until Jessie, the director, walked up to the makeup chair as she was getting her foundation touched up.

  “Mr. Clayton is here,” he announced. “He wants to talk to you.”

  It felt like she froze from the inside out. “Oh. Um. Okay.”

  “Don’t worry. He’s a nice guy.”

  Leyla smiled tightly.

  Her foundation finished, the makeup artist left the room. The next thing she knew, Kane was coming up the stairs. His white Stetson was the first thing she noticed. After that, the cautious look on his face.