Bride Wanted Read online

  Bride Wanted

  A Billionaire Fake Fiancé Romance

  Copyright © 2018 by Eva Luxe and Juliana Conners.

  All Rights Reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction and any portrayal of any person living or dead is completely coincidental and not intentional. No part of this book may be reproduced without written permission from the author, other than brief excerpts for the purpose of reviews or promotion.

  For a limited time, this book comes with bonus books for your continued reading enjoyment, including three other books in the standalone but connected

  Wanted series: Nanny Wanted, Baby Wanted and Wife Wanted.

  Credits

  Cover Design by Cosmic Letterz

  Published by Juliana Conners’ Sizzling Hot Reads

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Sam

  Chapter 2

  Wendy

  Chapter 3

  Sam

  Chapter 4

  Wendy

  Chapter 5

  Sam

  Chapter 6

  Wendy

  Chapter 7

  Sam

  Chapter 8

  Wendy

  Chapter 9

  Sam

  Chapter 10

  Wendy

  Chapter 11

  Sam

  Chapter 12

  Wendy

  Chapter 13

  Sam

  Chapter 14

  Wendy

  Chapter 15

  Sam

  Chapter 16

  Wendy

  Chapter 17

  Wendy

  Chapter 18

  Sam

  More books in the Wanted Series.

  Nanny Wanted: A Virgin & Billionaire Secret Baby Romance

  Baby Wanted: A Virgin & Billionaire Romance

  Wife Wanted: A Billionaire Fake Fiancé Romance

  SEAL's Virgin: A Bad Boy Military Romance

  Just Pretend – A Navy SEAL Fake Fiancé Romance

  Perfect Fit: A Modern Day Dirty Cinderella Fairy Tale with a Fake Royal Marriage Twist

  Dr. Fake Fiancé: A Virgin and Billionaire Romance

  Knock Me Up, Boss: A Bad Boy Secret Baby Office Romance

  Mountain Man’s Baby: A Billionaire And Virgin Romance

  Chapter 1

  Sam

  The sun was shining brightly into my office, on what would otherwise look like a good day. But something was weighing heavily on my mind. Something was wrong. I couldn’t put a finger on it, and I went through countless amounts of paper work to find it. Nothing. Hmm.

  I ran a hand through my thick hair, and then down my trim stomach. At least I was fortunate enough to still have these physical attributes, I thought, trying to cheer myself up.

  Maybe this success just had me feeling cautious. It wasn’t all that long ago that I’d been in a car accident and then a fucking coma, after all— and at one point the doctors didn’t think I was going to make it. I ended up proving them wrong, but when I came out I was barely able to walk again for a long time.

  Now I was a wealthy business man with my own company that specialized in business consultation with a touch of tech qualities. We were owning the market, and it was a growing one, too.

  It only made sense that I would be questioning my success, after my near death. I had to remind myself that everything was going just fine. More than fine, in fact. Things were going fucking great.

  Benson, my business partner and friend, was great at the consultation part of the business, and I was good at the finance part. After I had received the money from my injury years ago, I put it to good use.

  Of course, that was all done with some help from Willow’s new husband.

  “Sam!” Benson sang, swinging into the door, his jacket swaying around much like his tie. I leaned back in my chair, amused at his happiness. “Sam, I got the best news ever, we just struck it big, we struck it big!” he sung again.

  He did a small dance over to my small liquor cabinet and pulled out the best whiskey I had, followed by two shot glasses.

  “It has to be good if you’re cracking open the whiskey at noon,” I said, leaning onto my desk. I studied him closely. He was more than happy, he was elated, on cloud nine. This meant one thing with Benson: the promise of money. A shit load of it.

  “What is it? Anticipation is fatal these days,” I said, grinning.

  Benson slid the two shot glasses onto my desk and sloshed the brown sour liquid into them. The smell quickly wafted up and a flash went through my head.

  “Why do I drink such evil liquid? The man who hit me was drunk…?”

  “Drink up, old pal. We’re rich as hell now!” Benson exclaimed, downing his shot.

  I pushed mine aside, swallowing at the haunted thoughts that still followed me ever since the car crash. Benson raised a brow and reached for it.

  “More for me.” He downed the shot and sat back with a wider smile than any I’d ever seen on him. Anymore and he was going to break his own damn face.

  “Now out with it. What’s with the good mood?” I asked, glancing at the clock and my computer for new emails. I had things to get done today but Benson appeared to be trying everything in his power to hinder those plans.

  Benson leaned over in his seat. His face got serious as if he was about to tell me the world’s biggest secret. “Remember John Gallock?”

  “Yes, one of the oldest billionaires in town… what about him?”

  “He’s coming with us!” Benson shot out of his seat, slamming his hands on my desk. “Merging his business with ours, in the form of a bunch of contracts he’s letting us take over.”

  “Coming with us? Via contracts?” I repeated. “Wait, back up. Give me the full details.” I felt myself rising out of my seat too.

  Benson whipped around and pumped his fist. “A two hundred billion dollar contract is gonna be ours!” he cheered.

  “Two hundred billion dollars? But you said ‘gonna’… Is he coming with us or not?”

  Benson turned to me. “Yes! He’s coming in two weeks to sign it.”

  I rubbed my forehead. It was as if the wind had been knocked out of me. It wasn’t like our company struggled with gaining contracts. But this was a windfall. This was going to boost our reputation and popularity wildly. This time we were going to turn down contracts because of high demand.

  Wait until Willow heard about this. Both her and her husband would be ecstatic.

  Only thing was… I wished that I had someone of my own to run home and tell. Benson had his girlfriend, Willow had her husband, and me? Who did I have? I was single, an eligible bachelor.

  But who would want to marry a man who walked with a fucking cane? Gold diggers maybe. But I wasn’t going to be one of those lonely types who was outwardly willing to pay for company. I was starving for the real thing. However, this disability of mine was in the way. Not even good looks on my part was helping me out.

  I felt my body posture slump. Benson did a double take and frowned. He already knew about my wants, too. He hardly even talked about his own relationship around me, afraid that he might insult or hurt me. Even right now, he seemed to be reading my mind.

  “Sam, I know you wish you had a family to share your financial success with. But it’s gonna be okay. You’ll have a family one day. Any girl in their right mind would be happy to marry into all this money, not to mention those dashing good looks all the ladies always go on about. Your dark hair and dark eyes and toned body and blah blah blah. So, love
will come. Just wait and see. In the meantime, you can always dry your tears with a big fat hundred dollar bill,” he told me, slapping me on the back.

  “Yeah, but I want more than that.” I reached for my cane at the speed of a slug. Days like this that were bright and joyful weren’t all too joyful for me.

  The sun shifted in the sky, casting a more saturated hue over the room than the bright white that had been here before. I had such a good view in this office. If only I had someone to share it with. I forced a smile on my face, so that Benson didn’t get too worried.

  “So, two hundred billion dollars. That’s a lot. Two weeks should be enough time to—” a thought hit me… “Wait. You said John Gallock, right?” I scratched my chin. That name was familiar. I dug through my memory to see if anything would turn up.

  Benson was tense, not even moving. “Yeah. Gallock. Look, don’t worry about it. He’s good for it—”

  “No, I think I do remember him.” I raised my eyes to Benson. Shit. “John Gallock is that man who so-called funds one of the biggest churches in this town…”

  Benson lifted up his hands and motioned for me to stop. “Come on, he isn’t—”

  “And, the last I heard,” I walked over to Benson, balancing on my cane, “he only funds things where the CEOs are married. Hitched. A bright happy couple. He’s all about family values. And forcing other people to have his same values, if they want any of his money.”

  Benson shot me an awkward smile. “About that…” he stammered, looking for a way out of this. Oh no. Hell no.

  “Benson! What the hell did you say to that man to get him to come to us?!”

  “Well, come on. There are many fine women you can grab for a quick—”

  “A one-marriage-stand? Those don’t exist. That won’t work!” I yelled.

  Damn it, why did he have to be so slimy sometimes? Benson was a good friend, but he was too sneaky for my liking.

  “How the hell am I going to find a temporary wife?” I hissed.

  Benson straightened his shoulder and exhaled. “Oh, come on. You know me well enough to know I’ve got it all figured out…”

  Great. Leave it to Benson to create a problem for me, and then try to solve it. I had a feeling that whatever he had in mind for me was going to be fucking insane.

  Chapter 2

  Wendy

  Rent was due. Rent was not being paid. Nor was there any money to pay the overdue rent.

  What was Daddy thinking? I always had to go behind his back and check on these things. It was like he didn’t mind being evicted or something. As long as I lived with him though, rent was going to be paid whether he liked it or not. I was used to taking care of him.

  Papers, papers everywhere. I was sitting in the middle of my bed in my small ass room. The mattress sat on the floor since box springs were for the wealthy. At least that was what I thought when I looked at the price. Even something like eighty bucks was a lot when you were struggling to make ends meet for your family.

  I didn’t have any brothers or sisters to help us out, either. Dad and I were on our own. Too bad I didn’t get much help from him, either. He was just spinning his wheels in what looked like a severe bout of depression ever since he had lost his programming job a year ago.

  The man had let himself go. Daddy used to be the shit. Now he moped around the apartment feeling sorry for himself, not giving a shit about anything.

  Sometimes, I thought he didn’t give a shit about me either.

  But that was too much of a thought to comprehend. I was sure Daddy still loved me— he was just too miserable to show it.

  Tossing more papers around to read later, I took out my laptop and logged onto my father’s online bank account.

  “Let’s see, there should be enough in here for—” Those big red numbers were bolded. And I didn’t like the amount either. “Overdrawn by seven hundred dollars?!” I shrieked. “Dad!”

  Come on! We still needed to eat! I thought, huffing and puffing. How were we even going to buy food?!

  I jumped off my bed and stomped down the small hallway. Opening his door, I saw that he was dead asleep, snoring peacefully in bed. That was the only time he didn’t seem miserable.

  I sighed and slowly closed the door. I knew Dad didn’t need the added drama. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I wanted to wake him up and yell at him.

  Where did he blow past that money to put us seven hundred dollars down the hole?

  Gambling?

  Drinking?

  I couldn’t exactly see him doing drugs. I bit my thumbnail and settled back down on the bed. I had to think of something quick.

  “Maybe I can just pull a gig or two, get the money up and we’ll be okay… for another month.”

  I pulled up the local paper online, searched classifieds and saw a few low paying jobs.

  Waitressing? Nah, I’d be better off stripping…

  Hmm.

  I pulled myself off the mattress again and looked at my body. Nice curves, and I was athletic and limber.

  The image of those red numbers was still burned completely into my head. All the strippers in the movies I’d seen weren’t poor. Yeah, they may’ve lived in some cruddy places, but they were saving up for better.

  Hmm.

  I slipped on some short shorts, a tank top to show off my shape, and grabbed my red purse. One more choice. Shoes.

  I hated heels. But if I had a shot at getting anywhere, I was gonna need them.

  Inhale.

  Exhale.

  You can do this, Wendy. No one really remembers you, anyway. You don’t have to stay a stripper, you can leave. At any time!

  The money was probably going to be so good I’d get hooked.

  Too bad though— I’d have to worry about that later. Rent was due, and we only had a five day grace period. And if I didn’t settle that overdrawn balance soon, the bank would cause us to dig deeper into the hole, with countless fees and whatnot.

  Here goes nothing.

  I walked out the front door of the house, making sure to lock up behind me. I was sure my dad would be sleeping all day, as he was prone to do during the low peaks of his depression. He wouldn’t notice I was gone, or ask where. Not that I even knew where I was going. I had no particular place in mind, but I knew the area where all the strip joints were located in this town.

  Some called it the Red Light district.

  Some called it the Meat House due to its prostitutes.

  But this was the south end of the city, and all the seedy places were nestled right there among its inhabitants. Some men whistled as I walked by. I was even solicited for drugs.

  But eventually I made my way down to the main thoroughfare where all the strip joints were.

  I walked up to one. It was painted all in gold.

  Meh, kind of tacky looking, I thought.

  The double doors swung open and a woman with shoulder length curly hair stomped out of there with someone that looked to be… an assistant? Huh? In this part of town.

  “Come on! There are no women here good enough—” She turned and happened to see me. Stopping in mid-sentence, she stared at me for a couple silent moments.

  “Umm,,” I stammered. “Something wrong?” I asked, feeling self conscious.

  “Hmm,” she hummed, slowly circling around me like a vulture. “You don’t work here, do you, darling?” she asked, looking me up and down and up again.

  “No… I want to—”

  She shot her gaze at me. “No, dear, you do not. If you’re that desperate, let me help you find love!” she said, a slip of a French accent coming out along with her strange words.

  “Love? I don’t need love. I need to pay bills right now.” I held onto my purse, shifting in my heels so I didn’t get achy feet. This woman was well dressed in a black dress with wonderful gold bangles. I admired her fancy fashion. She actually matched the black Mercedes that sat in the front. That had to belong to her.

  “Love can do that too…” />
  “Wait, you’re not trying to pitch some brothel to me, are you?” I asked, taking a step back. I mean, this was a seedy area, so it wouldn’t have surprised me at all.

  “No, I am Eliza Rousseau—”

  I threw my hands over my mouth. For a second I thought she looked familiar, but dismissed the thought.

  “You’re… Oh my god! Down here?”

  She laid her hands on my shoulder and we approached the black Mercedes. Wow, the Eliza Rousseau. She was known for hooking up billionaires that were looking for love. But in reality, they were probably just high priced escorts.

  “Yes, down here. I was looking for some more girls to add to my catalogue. You never know who might make a good match for whom.”

  “Is it… sex?” I asked.

  Her assistant stifled a giggle, but remained behind us, her head down.

  “Sometimes. But that’s completely up to you. You see, sometimes business men need dates or just a pretty face by their side,” she explained, her floral perfume wafting around her. The clinking of her bangles was relaxing as well. It was almost like her presence was hypnotizing.

  Billionaires. And sex would be a choice. Not mandatory. I was thinking this set up sounded like a better option than stripping.

  “When would I start?”

  Eliza shoved a black and gold card in my hand. “Call me. I’ll log your details in and when there’s a match, I’ll call you. You can get paid from anywhere from about five thousand dollars, to millions!”

  I had to let that last word gel with me… Millions.

  “Wow…”

  “But that’s if I call. And looking at you and those curves and that hourglass figure? It’ll be soon.” Eliza went around to the driver’s side of the car and unlocked it. Her assistant caught up and stood at the passenger side.

  I was grateful for the compliment. I guess I looked better than I had given myself credit for when I was looking at myself in the mirror.

  “Just promise me one thing,” she said, before ducking into her car.

  “What’s that?” I asked, thinking I’d promise her anything if I could make a million dollars.