The Billionaire’s Unexpected Wife Read online

  As the evening continued, my confidence began to swell a little. Sure, I had never been to anything like this before, and it still felt a little crazy being surrounded by so much glitz and glamour, but why not take advantage of it while I had the chance? That guy was eyeing me like he owned me, and it had been a long time since I had been able to blow off steam and enjoy myself like this. Life was usually so painfully stressful for me, and I didn’t see why I shouldn’t have a little fun when the opportunity arose. I had handed out a few cards, sweet-talked some people into giving the library some thought when it came time to donate again this year. It was about time I gave into a little flirtation, no?

  I headed to the bathroom to fix up my makeup, checking myself in the mirror. I still didn’t entirely recognize myself, even though I’d been wearing this thing for more than an hour. I hadn’t been sure about the dress when I put it on. Sure, it was a little tight and clung a little too closely to those curves I was most self-conscious about, but at least it went a long way to enhancing my cleavage and actually giving me some real shape. I ran my fingers carefully through my hair. I had taken the time to blow-dry it up in my room, and it was the only part of this look that I loved. I flashed myself a smile in the mirror, practicing how it would look when I aimed it at him, and my heart fluttered when I thought about what I was about to do.

  When I stepped out, it took me a moment to figure out where he had wandered off to, but then he emerged from the crowd, and my heart nearly stopped as I realized he was coming toward me. I half-expected someone to step in and pull me away at the last minute, that some pretty young thing would draw his attention from me before he could get too close, but nothing did. His eyes were locked on mine, even brighter and bolder than they had been before.

  Before I knew it, he was in front of me, those eyes burning deep into me as he came to a halt a foot from me. I could smell his aftershave, something strong and sharp and masculine that filled my senses and sent me floating a few feet off the ground. He was a lot to handle. He was even hotter closeup, like, male-model perfect, and I was struggling to remember how in the hell I was supposed to introduce myself.

  “I’ve been watching you all night,” he remarked, and the words sent a shiver down my spine. A waiter passed by us, and he plucked a couple of glasses from the tray the waiter was holding and passed one to me. I downed it in one gulp, hoping the booze would take the edge off the nerves racing through my system.

  “I know,” I finally replied, and he laughed.

  “Was I being that obvious?” He cocked an eyebrow, but if he was sorry, he didn’t seem it. He sipped on the champagne as I let the empty glass hang down by my side, my fingers barely holding on to the crystal. I still couldn’t believe he was talking to me, that he had spent enough time watching me to know he wanted me. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had treated me this way, with such obvious and blatant desire. And I couldn’t remember the last time I had returned it.

  “A little,” I admitted, and I lowered my gaze for a moment. Should I tell him I had seen him in the pool earlier? No, I couldn’t. I didn’t want him to know I’d been thinking about him all day, since I had first laid eyes on him.

  “So, what are you doing here?” he asked, letting his eyes move down my body slowly before he raised them again to meet mine. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The booze was moving around my system, loosening my tongue a little and opening me up.

  “I’m raising money for my library,” I replied honestly. “But I don’t think I’m half as fancy as most of the other people here.”

  “Well, you look the part,” he assured me, and I found my eyes drawn down toward his mouth. He had slightly olive-toned skin, and the sculpted shape of his lips popped against it. I wanted to run my thumb over them, to feel the softness of them under the pad of my finger.

  “So do you,” I replied, and then flushed a little as I realized how flirtatious what I’d just said sounded. He grinned, taking another sip on his champagne. He looked completely at ease as he asked me a few more questions, totally in control. I could see a few women who passed by us glancing in his direction, but he didn’t pull his gaze from mine the entire time as though I was the only person in the room he could see.

  I could barely take in what he was saying. All I could focus on was that he was paying attention to me, that he was looking at me like I was interesting and attractive and everything he’d been looking for. A guy like this had a play, of course. There was no way he learned this level of charm just off the top of his head, but how long had it been since a gorgeous, mysterious stranger like him just came up and started flirting with me? Maybe it was the champagne, or maybe it was something else, but when he reached out to take my hand, I didn’t pull away.

  “You know, there’s plenty more of this hotel.” He glanced around, a grin curling up the corners of his mouth. “If you want to see it.”

  “You want to …?”

  “I want to get out of here, with you.” He filled in the blanks for me, moving a little closer to me, so close, I could almost feel the heat of his breath against my skin. I guess he saw the softening in my eyes, the way my resolve quivered and then gave out from underneath me.

  “Come on.” He tugged my hand, and we started through the crowd.

  Despite the voice in my head telling me that this was fucking crazy, I followed him.

  I had no idea what the rest of this night was going to bring, but I didn’t want it to end there. He made his way through the room, and I watched him, watched myself following him. Whatever was going to happen, it was only just beginning.

  3

  Fuck.

  That was the first thought when I opened my eyes. It was hard to peel them apart, as though somebody had sealed them with superglue while I’d been sleeping. As soon as the light from the window began filtering through my vision, I slammed them shut again. Nope. That was way too much.

  I lifted my head from the pillow and rubbed my temples, eyes still shut. Shit. How long had it been since I’d last had a hangover? I couldn’t remember. I stretched my mind back over the night before and tried to put the pieces together, but the last thing I remembered was leading that woman out of the party and heading back to my room. Beyond that, nothing. I knew the party had gone all right before that, but nothing was sticking out to me.

  That’s when I heard a snuffle and felt a shift in the weight of someone in the bed next to me, and my heart dropped. I had assumed that even hella-drunk me would have figured out I should kick out my hookup at the end of our night together. There was nothing worse than having to explain to a woman why I wasn’t going to take her out for breakfast while the two of us were both busy fighting off a hangover.

  I turned slowly, opened my eyes again, and found myself looking at the woman I’d taken out of the party last night, her dress cast aside on the floor next to her along with her shoes and panties. Her hair was a mess, and she had makeup smudged beneath her eyes, but even still, she looked cute.

  I slowly clambered out of bed, heading to grab a glass of water to take the edge off the worst of this. I couldn’t help grinning when I saw a couple of bottles of champagne cast around the room, empty. The door out to the balcony was thrown open, and I could see a pair of shoes and my suit pants discarded out there. Well, at least the two of us had some fun last night, even if I felt as though I’d been wrecked waking up this morning.

  I grabbed a glass of water and looked at myself in the enormous mirror in the bathroom. I could have used a little less detail, if I was being honest, because I didn’t look my best. My hair was a mess, my face was crumpled from the pillow, and I had a couple of lipstick stains on my neck and shoulders that I had a feeling were going to be pretty stubborn in coming off.

  Still. I wasn’t exactly going to complain about the reminder that she’d been all over me, even if I couldn’t remember the details. I traced my fingers over the pink marks on my skin, cocking an eyebrow as I imagined her putting them there,
and then I saw something glinting in the mirror. I pulled my hand away and looked down at my fingers. A ring glinting on my finger.

  “What the fuck?” I murmured to myself, squinting down at the circle of silver on the fourth finger of my left hand. I didn’t remember going to sleep with that on. Hell, I didn’t remember doing anything that would have landed me a ring like this one. Sometimes, fancy galas like the one we’d both been at would hand out ridiculous freebies, but I would have gotten this at the start of the night, and the only thing I remembered noticing was her.

  I downed the glass of water and tried not to think about the ring as I headed back through to the bedroom. I was sure it was nothing to get hung up on. It had just been a fun night with a hot girl, and now I needed to scrub the worst of this hangover out from under my skin and get home. Any other day and I would have taken off already. But when I went back into the bedroom and saw that she had tossed the covers back in her sleep, flipping over on to her front and drawing a line down from the top of her spine to her ass that I wanted to trace my fingers along, I decided to stay. I wasn’t feeling that bad. I reached out to touch her as I sat down on the bed, but before my hand could find her body, I saw something that stopped me dead in my tracks.

  On her hand, the one that was flung out over the spot I had just climbed out of, was a ring. Same kind as mine. I was sure she hadn’t been wearing it the night before. If she had, I’d liked it so much, I had decided to grab one for myself as well. The silver shone in the morning sunlight, glimmering like the sequins on her dress below me, and I stared at it for a long, long moment. No. No way. No way could this be what I thought this was.

  I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should just get out of there and pretend whatever had happened the night before was best left in the past. But I had to know. The curiosity was killing me. I laid a hand on her back, gently at first, and shook her lightly. She groaned and pulled the pillow over her head.

  “Hey, wake up,” I demanded. I wished I could remember her name, but nothing came to mind. In my head, she had just been assigned “the hot one,” but that wouldn’t do in the light of day.

  She groaned again and turned over, reaching down to pull the covers up over herself. Her hand moved, and the ring caught the light again. Panic moved through my system. I had to know what was going on. I shook her again, this time impatient.

  “Hey, I need you to wake up,” I told her again. It was hard not to get distracted by her body. I wasn’t sure whether it was memories or imaginings of it that flashed through my brain as I saw her outline squirm beneath the sheets. But I knew I needed to stay focused, pull my shit together and get this under control.

  “Wake up.” I spoke louder this time, and finally, she peeled open her eyes and looked at me, clearly feeling as rough as I did.

  “What the fuck?” she demanded, pushing herself up off the bed and then instantly letting herself sink back down again as the hangover hit. “Holy shit, how much did we drink last night?”

  “A lot,” I filled in the gaps, pulling the pillow up behind her so she could sit up. This was urgent.

  “I don’t remember anything about last night,” she sighed, flashing me a playful smile. Any other time, I might have taken that as an invitation to slide beneath the covers with her and see if we could spark any memories, but I didn’t have time for that. I lifted my hand in front of her, spreading my fingers, and showed her the ring.

  “You know anything about this?” I asked, and her eyes widened.

  “You didn’t tell me you were married,” she protested, and I reached down to pick up her hand and show her she had the exact same one on. Her face dropped.

  “What the fuck?” she asked again, but this time there was a little more panic in her voice. That was more like it.

  “You don’t remember anything?” I pressed her, and she shook her head once more.

  “Just, like, fuzzy memories,” she frowned. “I remember leaving the party with you and that was it…”

  She lay for a moment, looking like a movie star surrounded by the luxurious pillows and the comforter, as though she’d been dropped into a cloud. But the freaked-out look on her face was at odds with that.

  “Wait a second.” She looked at my ring, then back at hers, and then back at my ring again, and it seemed to sink in. She gasped, clamped her hand over her mouth, and leaped out of bed.

  “What the fuck?” She shrieked at the top of her lungs. I was sure the staff were going to come running to see what the hell was going on, but I was soon distracted by the sight of her body, naked and soft in the morning light. She looked down at herself and dove back beneath the covers, pulling them over herself and tucking them in as she glowered at me.

  “Did we?” she demanded, as though this was somehow my fault.

  “I don’t remember,” I admitted. I gestured to the bottles strewn around the room. “We had enough to drink, that’s for sure.”

  “I would never do something like this.” She shook her head, confident for a woman with a wedding ring on her finger. “That’s crazy. I couldn’t—”

  “If you’ve got a better explanation as to why both of us are wearing rings right now, hit me with it,” I urged her. I really, really hoped one of us was going to have a bolt from the blue where we realized we had gotten these as a gag the night before, but the way her eyes were searching mine, I could tell it wasn’t coming from her end.

  “Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me,” I growled, furious. This was a fucking nightmare. What the hell had I been thinking, picking up some chick at a party and then … and then …

  “We’re married?” she murmured, mostly to herself, the words sounding small as they came out of her mouth. They hung in the air between us, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at her, as though that was what would make this real. Not the contract we’d very likely signed the night before to spend our lives together.

  “You have to do something about this,” she demanded as she watched me pull on my underwear and start to try and trace our steps around the room for a clue on what the hell had led us to that decision. I lifted my head and looked at her, eyebrows raised.

  “And how am I meant to do that?”

  “You’ve got money. You could manage something.” She gestured around the room.

  “Oh, so you remember that, then?” I remarked, shooting her a hard look. She rolled her eyes.

  “No, I just assumed you must be well-off if you can afford a room like this one,” she pointed out. “I didn’t do any of this for money, you know.”

  “Sure,” I muttered as I continued around the room.

  “I didn’t,” she protested, crossing her arms across her chest and glaring at me. I could feel her eyes burning into the back of my head as I made my way around the room, but I didn’t have time to comfort her. Right now, I needed to find a way out of the mess I’d managed to back myself into, to make this right somehow. And as I looked down at the ring on my finger and then slowly up at the woman sitting there in bed with a look of pure panic written over her face, an idea began to dawn on me.

  How long had my nonna been nagging at me to settle down? I swear she knew every single girl I hooked up with, and each and every one was a disappointment to her as it meant I was another step away from getting married.

  Well, now here I was, in all likelihood, with a ready-made bride lying in my bed. I slowly stood up and turned to her, looking her up and down, taking her in. She was the kind of woman my nonna would have picked out for me herself if I ever gave her the chance, thick and curvy with strong features and a mane of long, dark hair. She scanned my face and screwed up her nose in confusion.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, as I crossed my arms over my chest and tapped my foot, lost in thought.

  “Just making the best of this.” I offered her the sweetest smile I could muster and lay down on the bed next to my new bride. Maybe this wasn’t as big a disaster as I’d first imagined. Maybe it wasn’t a disas
ter at all.

  4

  My head was pounding as I watched him move around the room, and I tried not to think about the nightmare we’d just caught ourselves up in. I couldn’t handle this. My body was aching all over, the ring on my finger feeling as though it was cutting off circulation and about to send my finger straight tumbling to the ground. The covers of the bed felt oppressive, but there was no way I was going to take them off knowing I was naked beneath them and he could get another free show. I flushed at the thought of it. Where was the Amaya of the night before, the one who had slipped away from the party with a stranger, the one who had gotten up to god knows what all over this room, the one who had …

  I looked down at my finger again, and my stomach clenched. Then, I noticed he had come to a halt and had slowly turned to look at me.

  “What is it?” I demanded. “Did you find something?”

  He shook his head, and I once again strained my memory to try and come up with what had happened the night before. Everything was coated in a sheen of champagne, and beyond taking his hand and walking out of that party, I couldn’t remember anything specifically. My body still bore a few marks that gave me some hints. I could feel fingerprints on my hips from where he had no doubt been clutching on to them, and there was a mark on the inside of my thigh that looked like a love bite. And, of course, this fucking ring on my finger. That too.

  “I just had an idea,” he announced, and I cocked an eyebrow.

  “Does it involve getting an annulment as soon as we can so we can both go home and forget about all of this?” I demanded, and he chuckled and shook his head. He suddenly seemed completely calm, as though none of this was happening. What the hell was going on? I pushed myself up on the bed and stared at him, waiting for him to explain what the hell was going on right now.

  He took a seat on the edge of the bed and laid his hand on my leg, still beneath the covers. The heat of his touch sent a shiver down my spine. No, that was what had gotten me into this mess in the first place. If I had only allowed myself a little flirtation and then headed home, I wouldn’t be in this mess. It was typical. The one night I allowed myself to blow off steam and forget about all of it—about Jolene, the money, her illness, everything that came with it—this had happened. And now I was pretty sure it was for the best that I never had any kind of fun again. I obviously couldn’t be trusted not to do something like this.