The Billionaire’s Pretend Girlfriend: The Billionaires Club, #2

By Leslie North

Billionaire Daniel Trent needs a date for his best friend Grayson's wedding, but he's got a bit of a problem. His current closest relationship is with his house sitter, Jackie Stone, who he's never actually met. Their flirty notes about his beloved tankful of exotic fish are the only fun part of his busy work-only life. When he comes home early after a business trip to find Jackie naked in his bathtub, Daniel is pleasantly surprised to find the woman he likes is absolutely adorable. Grayson, assuming Daniel and Jackie are a couple, suggests Daniel bring her to his wedding. Teasing Daniel over his commitment issues, he even bets that Daniel will end things before the wedding is over. After all, Daniel rarely gets past two dates with any woman. Daniel takes the bet, hoping that Jackie agrees to be his fake girlfriend. The worst thing that could happen is he'll lose the bet. He certainly won't lose his heart...

 

Though Jackie agrees to go as Daniel's wedding date, it turns out the man is the worst boyfriend. Ever. There's no way they'll convince anyone at the pre-wedding festivities that they're a couple. And she really, really wants Daniel to win that bet because he promised to pay for her final year of graduate school if he does. If she wants any chance of that happening, she knows they'll have to practice acting like a couple, which leads to…the kiss. And then more. Which is bad. The last thing Jackie wants is for this business arrangement to get complicated, and it's definitely getting complicated. But it's also getting harder and harder to remind herself that falling for Daniel would be a colossal mistake. A mistake her heart, unfortunately, seems more than willing to make…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Relay Publishing
• Release date: Apr 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393333777

Book preview

1

N o, no, no. I’m coming up with you.

Daniel smirked as his best friend Grayson defiantly closed the door of his car, and then tapped on the driver’s side window. Daniel’s driver rolled down the window, and Grayson told him to ‘wait right here’.

I said I’ll hurry, Daniel protested. But there was no point. Grayson was already leading the way to the entrance of his skyscraper residential building. It’s our monthly dinner—I don’t want us to be late.

But you’re always late, Grayson said as Daniel hurried to fall into step with him. The two headed for the private penthouse elevator tucked into the far corner of the lobby, Daniel’s rolling luggage making soft clicks across the immaculate white tiles. Daniel rolled his eyes as the elevator doors shut.

I’m not always late, Daniel said, but he had no other argument to follow.

"You are, Grayson insisted, because you always find ‘one last thing to do’ before you leave, which means you always hit dinner right as we’re ordering dessert."

Daniel tried to hide the exasperated sigh, but it was no use. He gripped the handle of his rolling carry-on. He and Grayson had managed to fly into the San Francisco airport at the same time this evening from their very different business meetings, which meant their other best friend—Blake—was waiting impatiently for them at Starbrite Diner, their time-honored college watering hole on the campus of Stanford University.

I made it on time to dinner earlier this year, Daniel muttered, checking his reflection in the mirror-lined private penthouse elevator. He raked his hand through his dark blond hair, which stood up at awkward angles, somewhere between intentionally messy and too distracted to remember a haircut. As an international investment banker, his job kept him running enough to forget plenty of things, even though he had enough money to buy a thousand haircuts.

But as his father always said, time equals money. And Daniel didn’t have a second extra of that lying around. He monetized his life down to the millisecond, because that’s what he’d always known. It’s what he’d grown up with, and he didn’t know how to live any other way.

It wasn’t exactly a barrel of laughs. Stress was one thing, but the constant creeping fear of having everything collapse around him with nothing but an ulcer to show for it? Not fun. Lucrative, yes—but he didn’t really have any free time to spend all the money he made. Fortunately, he didn’t have the spare time to worry much about it, either. Daniel had convinced himself that this was just part and parcel of being months away from hitting thirty. This is life, he told himself damn near every morning when he woke up and looked at himself in the mirror. It’s like this for everyone. You’ll enjoy it someday.

Dude. Are you even listening? Grayson’s voice broke through his stewing misery, and Daniel jerked his head to look at his friend, blinking.

Sorry. Was just thinking about this account I almost closed.

See? This is why I needed to come up with you. I know the second you get inside your place, you’re going to open your laptop.

I’ll be quick, Daniel assured him as the elevator doors opened, revealing the grand foyer of his penthouse. He strode purposefully over the distressed gray flooring of the entrance hall. He’d personally picked out all the details of the design here, so he could always count on at least a momentary sense of relief when he came home to his haven. But even here, in his sanctuary, more work awaited. It always did.

His footsteps echoed through the spacious entry hall as he headed through the living room and toward the master suite. Grayson flopped onto the enormous black sectional in the two-story great room, which faced a black brick-lined fireplace. Grayson’s sigh of relaxation followed Daniel as he dumped his suitcase and briefcase onto the puffy gray comforter of his bed.

Why don’t we just have Blake come meet us here? Grayson asked, his voice faint across the distance. Now that I’m sitting on your incredible couch, I’m not sure I can get up.

Daniel laughed to himself, quietly unzipping his briefcase. If he moved quickly—and stealthily—Grayson wouldn’t have to even know he’d stopped to check his emails.

Stay there. Take a load off. I need to find different shoes. It was a white lie, he supposed. He’d change shoes for the hell of it, but he didn’t need to. What he needed to do was make sure the Korean banker he’d just wined and dined over the weekend was still a shoo-in for the business deal Daniel’s father had been pushing him toward for the past three months. If Daniel didn’t snag this, he’d never hear the end of it. From his father, and from himself.

Just as Daniel sat on the edge of the bed, laptop loaded and ready, he heard a strange clank from the bathroom. Or at least it seemed like it came from there. Daniel paused, listening more intently.

Silence permeated the room once again.

And then he heard the faintest sloshing sound.

Like water.

Like maybe a pipe had burst.

Anxiety streaked through him and he tossed his laptop aside, rushing toward the bathroom. Before he’d even pushed through the door, he’d already calculated a running tally of how much money a burst pipe inside the master bedroom would cost. He could exactly imagine the upcoming days of work, the ruined closet, the forgotten pair of Italian leather shoes in the back of his wardrobe that would be ruined from water damage and mold.

He scanned the master bath wildly as he stepped inside, finding the lights already on. The next thing to catch his eye: the very naked woman in his clawfoot bathtub looking at him with wild green eyes.

Breasts hidden by a layer of bubbles while she wielded a decorative vase, cowering in the corner of the tub.

Don’t come any closer! she shrieked, her short, punky hair sticking up at wild angles. Shock made him mute. He didn’t even realize he was stepping toward her until she moved suddenly, water sloshing over the edge of the bathtub and onto the tile.

I told you, don’t come any closer! she screamed, standing up, brandishing the vase like a weapon.

Daniel couldn’t believe his eyes. And he wasn’t sure what was more outrageous: the fact that there was a completely naked twenty-something with curves for days basically waiting for him inside his home, or the fact that she was about to spear him to death with a decorative Grecian urn he’d picked up on a work trip years ago.

It was when she kicked at him—coming nowhere close to reaching him, of course, but managing to fling water droplets across him like a warning—when he broke past the shock and found his voice, and his logic.

Are you my house sitter? he asked.

Her grip went tighter around the vase but some of the fire went out of her. Still, she kept it at ear level, like she’d swing it at him bat-style if needed. Maybe. Are you Daniel Trent?

Yes.

Finally she lowered the vase, her chest heaving. He knew the gentlemanly thing to do would be to avoid looking…but he was a billionaire, not a saint. Her entire body shimmered, like she’d bathed in oil prior to the bath, highlighting breasts that looked like perfect handfuls. Dark rose nipples standing at attention. It wasn’t an ideal time to be checking her out, but her standing buck naked in front of him didn’t offer many other options.

How can I believe you? she demanded through gritted teeth.

Do you want to see my ID? His heart raced, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe because he was finally putting a face—and a naked body—to the mystery house sitter who had been in charge of his penthouse during all his absences for the past six months. Sometimes, the notes she left behind seemed almost flirty, and he’d found himself wondering on more than one occasion what SitMyHouse.com’s Miss Jackie Stone, Accomplished House sitter and Aspiring Social Worker might actually look like.

And now he knew well enough. All the way down to the tightly trimmed patch of dark hair between her legs.

Jackie set her lips in a determined line, jerking her chin like she was beckoning him to step closer. Let’s see it.

As he dug his wallet out of his back pocket, he fumbled to find his driver’s license tucked into the folds. His fingers were shaking. This was ridiculous. Had it been so long since he’d been around a naked woman? This wasn’t even a sexy situation. This was an intrusion—him on her, since he was the one who’d hired her and forgotten to inform her that he’d cut his trip a little short.

Show me the ID first, she commanded, her tone hard. He finally managed to rip it out and held it up so she could see. When she indicated that she wanted a closer look, he stepped forward.

But some of her weapon-wielding had gotten the floor wet. And Daniel noticed too late when his foot connected with a slippery patch of tile. He shouted as he pitched forward, headed right for the bathtub.

Jackie shrieked, lunging for the vase again. Daniel caught himself on the edge of the tub before plunging headfirst into the water, but Jackie’s flailing caused her to slip.

She tumbled on top of him, knocking him backwards. He connected with the bathroom tile in a solid thunk, landing on his back, with Jackie’s small, damp hands immediately finding his neck.

I told you not to touch me! she said, her thumbs pressing into the sides of his neck.

I fucking slipped! he hissed out, grasping at her hands and struggling to regain the breath that had been knocked out of him. All the water from her body was bleeding into him now, soaking his pants, his shirt, everything. He didn’t seriously think that she would do him any harm, but he was impressed, if anything, that she knew exactly where to strike his pressure points to get him to pass out.

She watched him intensely for a few moments, chest heaving while her gaze skated back and forth across his face. Meanwhile, Grayson ran into the bathroom.

Daniel! Whoa, what the— Grayson’s eyes went wide, an expression somewhere between shock and amusement tugging at his lips. Is everything okay?

On top of him, Jackie squeaked and started to pull back, but Daniel slid an arm around her to hold her in place. As long as she stayed on top of him like this, Grayson wouldn’t get a free show.

We’re fine, we’re fine, Daniel said, trying to wave him away. Sorry, we got excited.

Holy shit. My bad. I had no idea that you had a visitor waiting for you… Grayson’s shit-eating grin was fully activated. Sorry, miss. I hope I didn’t ruin your surprise. But maybe you were expected—that would explain why Daniel was so eager to get here…

Daniel pinched his eyes shut, not sure where to begin with the story corrections. It’s, uh…you know…

"How about this? I’ll head to the diner now, in your car, and then tell your driver he has the rest of the night off. I’ll let Blake know that something else…came up and you needed to stay home tonight after all. Grayson tapped a knuckle against the doorframe. Sound like a plan?"

Yep. Great. Daniel waved him off again, everything inside him burning with embarrassment and confusion while Grayson retreated. Once the front door shut, heard only faintly from inside the master bath, Jackie rolled off of him.

I’m so sorry. She offered a hand, searing him with those pretty green eyes. I didn’t mean to cause such a mess. She gestured to the water all over the floor. Or give your friend the wrong idea.

Daniel grunted as he took her hand, allowing her to help him sit up. He rubbed at his face, still unsure whether all of this was real or a jet-lagged hallucination, while Jackie snatched a nearby towel and wrapped it around her.

It’s my fault, Daniel said, feeling some clarity return now that she was no longer naked and showcasing the wispy lines of a scripted tattoo on her ribcage. Even though he was dying to know what it spelled. I wrapped up my business meeting early and then I had to rush so much to get on my new flight that I didn’t even think about alerting you. Honestly, I’ve been so busy at work, I totally forgot that you’d be staying here while I was in Seoul.

Jackie nibbled on her bottom lip, some of her mascara collecting beneath the rim of her eyes as she rested against the edge of the bathtub. You were just in Seoul?

Daniel nodded, scratching at the back of his neck. After what just happened, Seoul seemed like a lifetime ago. He couldn’t even remember what he was doing ten minutes ago.

That’s so cool, Jackie said softly, her gaze bouncing across bathroom floor. I’d like to go someday. Let me get this place cleaned up. I really didn’t mean to try to attack you.

You wouldn’t have gotten far with those karate moves, Daniel cracked.

Jackie grinned, a dimple flashing. What are you trying to say? You were scared. Don’t act like you weren’t.

I was something, but scared wasn’t it, Daniel teased back.

Jackie hefted with a laugh. I’m sorry I accused you of breaking into your own apartment. I guess it would have helped if we’d ever met over the past six months, huh? Just to see what we look like.

Yeah, could have saved me a naked bathroom attack, Daniel said, pushing himself to standing. Once he headed for the towels beneath the sink cupboard, Jackie stopped him.

Don’t. This is my fault. I’ll clean up. You don’t worry about a thing.

No, it’s fine. It’s mostly my fault. He handed her a towel and grabbed one for himself. See? We can both do it.

She smiled wryly at him, knotting her towel in the dip in her breasts before heading over to the bathtub. She pulled the drain, the bubbles creating a vortex as they swirled away.

I don’t mean to keep you from whatever you have going on, Jackie said, glancing at him shyly. He thought he caught the faintest tinge of pink in her cheeks. So tough girl Jackie was secretly embarrassed beneath the façade. Somehow, it all added up to an impossibly sexy equation.

Not just because she was all woman, with enough tattoos to make him want to spend a few hours scrutinizing them. But because she’d somehow managed to attract him through little notes over the past six months…and then wasn’t afraid to defend herself in the nude with a Grecian urn.

Little things like that made him think Jackie was the type of woman he could enjoy spending some time with.

But it was a non-option.

Daniel was smart enough to know that he didn’t have the time for anything more than a fling. And Jackie, well…

Jackie was his house sitter. And that’s how she