The Millionaire's Fake Fiancee by Rita Sawyer
contemporary erotic romance
novel, approx. 50000 words
Cover Art by Valerie Tibbs
Harley Taizer wasn’t used to dealing with her greedy parents. They’d never wanted her and had made it perfectly clear by giving her to her grandfather the day she'd been born. It’s funny how things change when money is involved. Discovering her trust fund, her parents show up demanding she give them the money. Afraid of just how far his son and daughter in-law will go, her grandfather brings in a security specialist to help.
Kasper Drake hasn’t met a trust fund baby he liked, though he is one himself. Upon meeting his uncle’s newest client he’s willing to throw all his preconceived notions out the window. He’s trying to get Harley to admit to their fierce attraction when her father shows up demanding to know Kasper's identity. She tells him that he’s her fiancée. Kasper latches onto her lie hoping to make her see how good it could be.
He rubbed his chin for a second before dropping the pad onto the table. “Why don’t you just tell me exactly what’s going on here?”
It irked her that it was more of a command than suggestion. In fact the way he asked his questions had her feeling like this was some kind of inquisition. It wasn’t the questions, or the required answer, it was look and tone he used that had her wondering if he was there against his will. If that was the case then they were in the same boat, because she didn’t want him there either. According to her grandfather this wasn’t negotiable so she needed to just do it and get it over with. Narrowing her eyes, she gave her attitude a little bit of the tight leash she’d been keeping it on.
After all, he’d asked for it, she thought, breaking it down for him. “As far as I know you came here to set up the security access for my account.”
He shot to his feet and began pacing the room. His fierce scowl made him look dangerous and hotter than hell. Unable to stop herself, she mentally stripped him of his dress shirt, striped tie, navy slacks, and shiny black shoes. She replaced them with a tight black t-shirt, jeans tight and worn out in all the right places, and work boots. His dark wavy hair literally topped off the image. Mmm… Now that was more like it. It was an image she was sure would be starring in her dreams.
“That’s not what I meant,” he growled, looking down at her.
Smiling, she responded with her best sweet and innocent tone. “Really? Then why don’t you tell me what you did mean.”
Dropping into the chair, he snatched the pad of paper slamming down on his lap. “Forget it. Let’s just get this finished.”
Everything went fine for about five minutes. He asked his questions and she gave him short and concise answers. She sat there watching him scribble on the pad. His hand was big and she found herself wondering how it would feel stroking her bare back. Feeling the heat blooming on her cheeks she reined in her wayward thoughts. Luckily, he hadn’t noticed since he kept his eyes on the pad. Things were progressing nicely, and she’d already begun focusing on what she’d planned to make for dinner, when he posed his next question.
“Who do you want listed as next of kin?” He tilted his head up; making her think the question sparked his interest.
“My grandfather. Oh, and I want him to keep his access in case of an emergency,” she said, already regretting letting her temper slip, no matter how slightly.
He made an indecipherable sound, to which she asked, “Is there a problem with that?”
“Most people choose a parent, or both of them.” One broad shoulder lifted and fell, but his gaze remained on the pad.
Leaning back against the cushion, she crossed her legs, swinging her foot and feeling defensive, knowing she probably looked it too. “I’m not like most people.”
He mumbled something that sounded like, “Tell me about it.”