The Academic Bride: Billionaire Marriage Brokers Book One (4 page)

“You look bored,” she said.

“Sorry. It’s not your company, I assure you. I spent an hour and a half listening to my lawyer go over this thing yesterday. It’s waterproof. You’ll be fine, too.  I asked him to look at your end of things.”

Had he noticed how closely she listened? How many questions she asked? She tried not to look self-serving in front of him, but this was all new to her. And she couldn’t afford to pay an attorney and then walk away if all this wasn’t what she wanted. Next to Nick, Janel was the poor country mouse, and she felt every bit of her dowdiness wash over her.

Nick tapped his fingers on his stack of papers and grimaced.

Janel’s stomach dropped. Was he having second thoughts? “What?” she blurted.

“Phil, my attorney. He’s a great guy, don’t get me wrong. He gave me a half-hour lecture on the sanctity of marriage.”

Janel looked down at her hands. “Oh.”

“Is this your first marriage?”

She nodded, her nerves doing strange things to her stomach, her throat, and her brain, all at the same time.

“Did anyone try and talk you out of it?”

Janel groaned. “No one knows. My parents are going to flip, and I mean F.L.I.P. flip.” She covered her mouth with her hands. She shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t very professional to announce to your fiancé, three days before the wedding, that your parents didn’t know you were getting married.

Nick chuckled. “They aren’t the only ones. My mom will have a canary.”

Janel let out a silent prayer of gratitude and patted his arm. “At least you told your lawyer.”

“And my secretary.”

She threw her arms in the air. “Great, you’re two up on me.”

When Nick laughed, the sound resonated within her and chased away the icy dread. Nick had a deep voice, one that commanded attention but was gentle. His laughter went right to her bones and made her smile. She realized that spending time with him at their weekly planning meetings wouldn’t be a problem; she was going to enjoy it very much.

“Are you inviting anyone to the ceremony?” she asked.

Nick cleared his throat. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Me neither. Let’s just keep it low-key.”

“Agreed.”

Lisa Marie came back in with a steaming cup of coffee the color of dirt, and Janel took a sip of her water. As time went on and they signed more papers than it took to buy a small island, she felt more at peace with her decision to go through with this.

Nick was a great guy, they seemed to get along well, and he wasn’t going to make a big deal about meeting her family.

Her family.

Maybe she should cancel her standing Sunday dinner with her parents this week. She couldn’t seem to come up with a viable excuse, though. She knew she couldn’t tell them she needed her beauty sleep because she was getting married in the morning, and she couldn’t say she was sick because her mom would just haul her home for some motherly attention and a couple days of R&R. Nope, she was going to have to suck it up and eat dinner with her parents and somehow
not
tell them she was getting married the next day.

Chapter 7

Saturday night, Nick left the charity dinner early. Staying to socialize and flirt didn’t seem right, now that he was engaged. He rubbed his tired eyes. Just a couple more days and his life would be different. Attending events used to be fun. Had he changed that much in the last few years? Did he forget how to party? No, he knew perfectly well how to end up being rolled into his car, driven home by someone much more sober, and woken up by a raging headache the next morning. The whole situation didn’t sound as entertaining as it used to.

Maybe I’m getting old. What’s next, a midlife crisis?
He rubbed his thumb along his jaw. This whole engaged-to-a-stranger situation could be considered a midlife crisis.

He pulled into the five-car garage that smelled like concrete sealant and shut off the engine. Next to his parking spot was an empty space reserved for Janel’s car. He pulled the keys out and took off his seatbelt. Technically, he wasn’t middle-aged, so marrying Janel and her stunning eyes could
not
be a crisis.

Nodding once, he made his way into the house. The mudroom was in perfect order. He’d have to let the household staff know there would be one more person living there and that they would need to clean her suite as well as his. One more thing to add to his growing to-do list. A wife was a lot of work.

He slipped off his shoes and left them next to the bench before heading up to his suite. There was a strange rustling noise coming from Janel’s room, and Nick wondered if the painters had left a window open for ventilation. There were often people in his home when he wasn’t there, but they usually cleared out by the time he pulled in.

He peered through the open door to see Erica, his interior designer, taking the plastic off a new pillow and slipping it into a pillowcase. Her chin-length hair shook as she puffed it between her palms. His curiosity got the better of him and he stepped into the room.

Erica jumped and let out a scream.

Nick put up his hands. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Erica pressed her hand to her heart and smiled. “I’m sure I’ll miss those five years you just took off my life, but if you say you like the room then I’ll forgive you.”

“How come you’re here? Doesn’t Brad take you out on Saturday night?” One of the reasons Nick had hired Erica was that she was happily married to one of his oldest friends.

Erica grabbed another pillow and started the process all over again. She talked loudly, so he could hear her over the crackling plastic. “He’s out of town. I was happy to have something to do tonight.”

Nick took a minute to observe the room. The walls were a light gray with white trim. Erica had a window seat built with bookshelves along one entire wall. The four-poster bed was draped with purple. He reached out to touch the fabric and found that it slipped through his fingers like warm water. The bedspread was a purple base with gold and silver thread woven through. There were at least seven pillows in color-coordinated pillowcases or covers.

“It’s tall.” The mattress came up to his stomach. If he remembered right, and he was pretty sure he could remember almost everything about Janel, the top of her head was at his eye level, which would make her three inches or so shorter than him. With a mattress this high, Janel would have to jump to get into bed each night.

“It’s a top-of-the line pillow top. Your guests will sleep on a cloud.”

“That’s good.” Erica not only thought of style and design, she’d contemplated Janel’s comfort as well.

There was a desk on the same wall as the door to the bathroom that led to the walk-in closet. He walked in to inspect the tile and fixtures since the last time he’d seen it everything was white sheetrock.

The area was light, whimsical even, compared to the dark colors and natural stone in his room. He liked the glass tiles in the shower. Teal and purple tiles were scattered randomly through the clear tiles on a white background. The dark cabinets were a nice contrast to the light colors.

The closet was filled with organizational tools. There were plenty of empty shelves and closet rods, as well as a shoe rack and a belt organizer. A box of wooden hangers sat in one corner. He went over, ripped the plastic off of a set, and hung them on the nearest rod. He did the next set, placing it on a different rod, and then continued till the large box was empty. Placing all the plastic in the box, he took it out to Erica, who was unwrapping a gilded, full-length floor mirror.

“I have to admit,” she said as she stuffed the bubble wrap in the box he brought out, “I was surprised you picked purple.”

“I didn’t. My fiancée did.” Nick grinned.

Erica let out a squeal and clapped her hands. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We’re eloping on Monday. I was trying to keep it under wraps.”

“So, are you two moving over to this room? I wish I’d known. I would have added a few more masculine touches. Maybe I can get something over here tomorrow.”

“No. I like it just the way it is. Besides, I want her to feel comfortable.”

Erica swatted his arm. “I can’t believe you.” She looked around the room, tipping her head this way and that, before nodding once. “Yep. I’m officially done.”

“It looks amazing.”

Erica hefted the box of garbage onto her hip.

Nick protested, “I can carry that out.”

“Nonsense. It’s light as a feather. Have a great night, and congratulations.”

“Thanks.” Nick walked over to the bed and ran his hand along the brocade pillow. Erica was good. The nightstand coordinated with the bed, but it didn’t match the desk. It gave character to the room. He sat down on the window seat and looked Janel’s room over once more.

Janel’s room.

The title was both exciting and disappointing.

She had been nervous about the prenup, and he wished he’d told her earlier that it protected her as much as it protected him. She’d relaxed after he mentioned Richard had looked things over. That was good; it showed a bit of trust on her part. They also seemed to be on the same page as far as telling people about their marriage. His mom would be furious. However, she was on the other side of the country, visiting his brother and his wife and adoring her first grandchild.  With any luck, she’d never know the marriage took place.

He looked forward to having Janel move in. Their first meeting went well; perhaps a little too well, as he found himself attracted to her in a way he hadn’t planned on. He supposed that’s where the disappointment came in. He couldn’t pursue her romantically—well, technically he could, but they’d just met and she wasn’t expecting to be swept off her feet. But with a woman so lovely sleeping less than a hundred feet away, not pursuing her was going to be difficult.

It was for the best though. His heart was tired, worn out from falling for women who only saw him as a notch on their designer belts. They played games.

Nick rubbed his eyes. Was he playing a game? He’d had his moments of doubt, wondering if this would really work out or if he’d end up feeling trampled on by the end of the year. He hoped not. As Nick had learned when he’d started his business, sometimes hope was all you had to go on.

Chapter 8

Janel woke Monday morning to someone banging on her apartment door. She glanced at the clock and groaned. She’d overslept.
Who oversleeps on their wedding day?

She pushed the sheets back and reached for her robe. Wrapping her robe around her shoulders and tying it with a jerk, she opened the door just as Trish was about to unleash one of the overly muscular movers to break it down.

Trish walked in, took one look at Janel, and began issuing orders. Her hyper yet controlled energy filled the space and set Janel on edge. “You have seven minutes to shower.”

Janel ran to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. After their shopping trip together, she knew that when Trish said seven minutes, she meant seven minutes. The woman was a human stopwatch.

Trish gave instructions to the crew. Thankfully Janel had packed her wedding suit, shoes, and accessories in a garment bag last night, and hung the bag on the back of the bathroom door.

“Two minutes!” Trish called through the door. Janel rinsed the face wash off and jumped out.

“Here.” Trish cracked the door and shoved her arm through. She held out a clean set of panties and a bra. Janel muttered her thanks and made sure the door was firmly shut before letting her towel drop to the floor.

Two seconds later, as Janel tried to shimmy into the panties while her legs were still wet, Trish’s arm appeared with a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt. “One minute.”

Janel was certain that meant whether she had the clothes on or not.

They were five minutes late to her appointment and Clair was in a tizzy.

“Did you moisturize this morning?”

Trish folded her arms. “She overslept.”

“I used that special face cleaner stuff you gave me.” Janel felt the need to defend herself. This was her wedding day. Yeah, she wanted to look good, but wasn’t sleep important? “At least, I won’t have bags under my eyes.”

Clair gave her hair an extra tug as she squeezed out the excess water from her super quick shampoo, but didn’t say anything else about being late.

Janel worked to calm her racing heart. This was her wedding day, and she had no idea how she was supposed to feel. The idea that she didn’t know how to be a wife had her fingers drumming every surface they could find. Did the other brides have training?

Trish walked by as her brows were being shaped, did a double take, and pressed Janel’s hand flat against the seat. “No cold feet now,” she said with a reassuring smile.

Janel felt the tears build and it had nothing to do with losing a few eyebrows. “I feel so unprepared.”

“I understand this has all happened for you at light speed. It’s not usually like this. I promise you, I’m not going to drop you at the wedding and run. I’ll be there to train you as the week goes on. Okay?”

Janel flipped over her hand and gave Trish’s a light squeeze. It was just a job. “Okay.”

“Are you going to make it through this? You look a little pale.”

Guatemala. Guatemala
. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll find you some juice. You probably need a little sugar.”

“Thanks.”

After being filed, buffed, blow-dried, and waxed, Janel was ushered into a changing room, where everything she needed to get dressed was laid out. Trish must have unpacked her bag.

She hurried through the process, barely checking to make sure her button-up blouse was tucked in before throwing on the jacket. She blew out of the changing room and stopped short, as everyone in the salon had gathered to see her finished look. Tugging at her jacket sleeve, she asked, “How do I look?”

Trish walked over and took her hand. Gone was the harried drill sergeant. Instead, Trish moved with deliberate steps to the long mirror on the far wall, taking Janel with her.

Janel hardly dared to look up, but when she did, she smiled. Her hair and makeup were stunning: not too much volume, but enough to consider the curls romantic, and not enough makeup to draw attention, but enough to enhance her eyes and fill out her lips. The jacket fit perfectly, accentuating her trim waistline. The suit had come in black pinstripe, cream, or purple. She’d decided on the purple, because the black looked too much like something you’d see in a boardroom, and the cream looked too much like what a bride would wear. The purple was a nice combination of both—just like her marriage.

Clair appeared beside her and pulled a few curls over her shoulders to frame her face.

Janel hugged her. “Thank you.”

The ladies clapped and giggled as Trish ushered her out the door.

Before she knew it, Janel was walking into Pamela’s office to get married, and Nick was looking at her like she was the only person in the room. Her butterflies from earlier returned, times ten. She felt her face flush and thought that if anything, Trish would be happy that she wasn’t pale-faced anymore.

***

Nick couldn’t breathe. The moment Janel walked in, looking as beautiful as any woman he’d ever seen, he lost the ability to pull air in through his lungs. He blinked, hoping to clear his head and restart his operating system. Harrison nudged his arm, and Nick looked down to stare at the flowers in his hand rather than his fiancée.

The flowers!

He crossed the room to intercept Janel to have a second with her before the justice of the peace started.

He had to clear his throat to find his voice. “I know this isn’t a traditional wedding, but it’s traditional for the groom to buy the flowers.” He held out the bouquet of white lilies. “I thought you might like a bouquet.”

Janel took the flowers and closed her eyes as she breathed in their intoxicating scent. She looked up from lowered lashes. “Thank you. They’re perfect.”

That moment, that one little moment, was worth the hours he’d spent last night tossing and turning, debating if he should give them to her or not. His heart beat wildly in his chest. He was on the verge of marrying this beautiful woman, and he was shocked to realize he felt happy about it, really happy. He hadn’t expected the amount of anticipation that raced through him.

“We’re ready.” Pamela waved everyone closer as the officiator, dressed in a bad brown suit and sporting a comb-over, took his place in front of the desk.

Nick offered his arm to Janel, who only hesitated a second before slipping her hand over it. He led her to the front, with Trish on her left and Harrison on his right acting as official witnesses, ring bearers, and maid of honor and best man

Even with the ring exchange, the ceremony took less than five minutes.

The justice of the peace refrained from the traditional you-may-kiss-the-bride line. Nick reeled from being pronounced a husband as Harrison shook his hand and congratulated him. Trish hugged them both, and soon they were standing in front of the receptionist’s desk getting their picture taken. He was sure that once the photos were delivered, he’d look like a man who had a cold glass of water dumped on his head.

Pamela congratulated them one last time and then headed back to her office. Harrison slapped him on the back, and soon they were left with Trish, who hugged Janel again.

“Take today and get settled in. I’ll be over bright and early to help you get oriented.”

“Thanks.”

Trish tucked them in the elevator and gave them a wave as the door closed, leaving them truly alone for the first time.

Though Nick had looked forward to taking Janel home and seeing her settled in her new room, he suddenly felt nervous about the whole thing. What if she hated it? He didn’t know if it was her style ... Really, he didn’t know anything about her. He should have waited for her to pick things out instead of rushing forward. This all happened so fast, as in five-minute-marriage-ceremony fast, and he wanted to slow things down.

“Would you like to stop for lunch?” he asked.

“Sure.” Janel played with one of the leaves in the bouquet. Her eyes weren’t focused on anything in the elevator.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Janel’s head snapped up, “I’m not having second thoughts.”

“Wait, what?” His hand went out to her elbow, but he didn’t make contact. “You’re having second thoughts?”

“No.” Janel adjusted her glasses and looked at the floor, where Nick was sure his heart had fallen. “It just hit me. We’re married.”

Nick waited.

“Married,” she said again as if he hadn’t heard her. Or, perhaps, she hadn’t processed it yet, like when a computer is loading a web page real slow, so the user clicks on the link a couple times hoping to hurry it along.

“I know.” He pointed at his ring.

She looked down at the wedding set on her left hand, looking every bit the woman admiring the ring that represented her matrimonial hopes. But instead of having a bright, happy face, she looked concerned.

Taking a deep breath, she shook out her hand, threw back her shoulders, and gave him an honest smile. “Sorry. I feel like I’ve been on a high speed train since I woke up. I don’t think I even ate breakfast.”

The elevator doors opened to the lobby. As they made their way through the lunch crowd, Nick wondered if she was too nervous to eat this morning. Perhaps she was more upset about the changes taking place than he realized. After all, she was the one who had to move. He handed his ticket to the valet and asked, “Why didn’t you have breakfast?”

“I overslept.”

He threw his head back and laughed. So much for nerves. He’d probably worried more over the flowers than she worried about moving.

“It’s not funny. Trish almost broke my door down, and Erica about pulled my hair out for being late to the salon. I didn’t dare mention food for fear of what the makeup artist would do.”

The valet arrived with his car, and another valet opened Janel’s door while Nick handed off a tip.

As they slipped on their seatbelts, Nick took a moment to appreciate her long legs in the pencil skirt and the way her curls fell across her shoulders.

She caught him looking and asked, “What?”

As he shifted the car in gear, he threw caution to the wind. He caught and held her gaze. “For the record, skipping breakfast was worth it.”

Her cheeks flushed as she ducked her head and tucked her hair behind her ear.

Nick pulled into traffic and thought,
That blush was worth it, too
.