WIFE WANTED (A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance) (8 page)

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice most of the time,” he said as he opened the bottle of wine and plated the two desserts. Trisha had already made herself at home on his plush couch, kicking her shoes off and tucking her legs underneath her. She thanked him when he handed her a wine glass, then came back over with the desserts.

“You’re quite the gentleman.”

“Except for running out in the middle of dinner.”

“It’s all right. I understand. You’re busy, I mean that’s how you’ve been able to get where you are.” She ate a bite or two of the chocolate cake, but it was too rich for Riley all of a sudden. He could hardly swallow any and finally set his plate down and contented himself with just drinking wine. It was expensive, he could tell by the label. Guess she’d told them to charge it to his tab. “Not hungry?” she asked.

“Hmm? No, I guess not.”

“Or, you’re just not hungry for cake.” She downed the rest of her wine, then crawled to the other side of the couch until she was practically in his lap. “I know what you want.”

He didn’t stop her when she took the wine glass from his hand and set it aside. Nor did he remove her hands when they started clawing slowly down his chest to his jeans. Her lips burned across his neck. Part of Riley wanted to sit back, relax, and enjoy the attention for the night. But another part told him this wasn’t the woman he wanted. Definitely not the woman he hoped to marry in less than two months.

She’d just grabbed his hands and planted them on her breasts when Riley picked her up and set her aside on the couch. She huffed at him and tried to reach for his jeans, but he backed away. “Listen, you can sleep here for the night if you want, or I can call you a cab, but this isn’t going to work.”

“What?”

“I said it’s not going to work. Please, either make yourself comfortable on the couch or get out.”

“No man has ever turned me down!” she snapped. “I’ve had the richest of the rich, you know.”

“And I can clearly understand why they did not keep you around,” he muttered as he re-buttoned his shirt. “You know what, I’ll just call you a cab.”

“What happened, huh? I thought we were having a good time.”

“Lady, I’m not an idiot. You want my money,” he snapped. “Well, guess what, you’re not my type. There’s the door—get out before I call the cops. Cab will be waiting downstairs.”

He picked up his cell and called for a cab while she stood by the couch, face red, mouth moving in silent curses. She wasn’t used to hearing the word no, but he could tell she was used to being kicked out of rich men’s lives. Most likely when they’d tired of her. He’d have to have a talk with Ben in the morning about being a bit choosier with the women he picked. After a tense stare down, Trisha finally flung her hair over her shoulder, grabbed her shoes and the rest of the expensive wine, and traipsed to the front door.

“You’ll never find another woman like me.”

“Hyena,” Riley corrected before he could stop himself.

Trisha shrieked in rage and slammed the door behind her on her way out. All Riley could do was pour himself a scotch and laugh about the crazy night he’d just had.

Chapter 9

Riley frowned at the knock on the door. It was Ben. Had to be. Saturday morning before noon, it would only be Ben. Riley got up from where he’d passed out on the couch and groaned. No hangover today, at least, but he wished he had one. Anything to get Trisha and the memory of her pawing hands out of his head.

He opened the door and glared.

“What?” Ben asked, lips twitching in a smile. “How did last night go?”

“How did it go? I’ll tell you how it went. It went so well that I think from now on, you should just act like me and find the wife and then I’ll just show up and marry her,” he yelled as he threw his arms up in the air and headed to the kitchen. “That’s how great my freaking night was, Benjamin.”

“Ouch, full name,” he said as he closed the door and followed his friend.

Riley ground the coffee beans and started them brewing before he turned back to see Ben still smiling. “Wipe that grin off your face, I’m serious.”

“Oh, come on, you can’t tell me there wasn’t at least one good thing about last night?”

He was about to say no, but another face popped into his mind. A beautiful face surrounded by auburn hair, soaked in rain water, right before she’d turned and bolted. “There was another girl…but…she ran off.”

His friend stared at him, wide-eyed, then laid his hands flat on the counter. “Wait, let me get this straight. So you go on a date, the lady turns out to be psycho, but you randomly meet some other girl who, from the look on your face was pretty special, and you let her run off? I thought the driver said someone came home with you?”

“Yeah, crazy Trisha.”

Ben whispered something and started to turn away until Riley admitted that she laughed like a hyena. A greedy, selfish, horny hyena. It was almost thirty minutes later when Ben finally stopped laughing and told Riley he’d try to be more selective about his future mates.

“Mates? We’re calling them mates now?”

“Future trophy wife? I don’t know, man, what do you want me to call them?”

Riley didn’t know. He really didn’t want to do this anymore, but if he didn’t, Diane won. Or worse, he’d have to suck it up and marry her instead. The girl…he needed to track down that girl. He had no idea how he could do it or if it was even possible. Somehow, he’d find her.

***

Phoebe was at the hospital, visiting her mother, who was still unconscious, when Charlotte knocked on the door. “Hey, how did your date go last night?”

“We need to talk outside,” Phoebe snapped and dragged her friend out of the room. “What the hell did you get me involved in? Last night was horrible! Freaking horrible! He blurted out that I obviously needed money because apparently everyone can tell I’m poor. He asked for sex in return—or at least I think that’s what he asked for, but I don’t know ‘cause I ran, broke my only good pair of heels, then was half-saved by this other guy who looked like a pirate, but then I freaked and ran home in the rain—alone!” Her chest heaved from spitting everything out at once.

Charlotte stared at her like she’d lost her head. “Wait, just…what?”

“You didn’t catch any of that?”

“Pirate. I distinctly heard something about a pirate.”

Phoebe groaned and shook her head. “I don’t think I can go out on any more dates with people from that website. I tried, I failed, end of story.”

“No,” Charlotte said, “you are not giving up that easily. I won’t let you.”

“Then what am I supposed to do? Grill each guy through e-mail before the date to make sure he’s not going to ask me for sex?”

Several nurses walking by stopped and looked at her funny, but she ignored them. Let them look. Nothing could be worse than what happened last night in the restaurant. There was an e-mail from Mitch sitting on her computer, but she hadn’t opened it yet. Not sure she should, really. The guy had freaked her out on more than one level, and the last thing she wanted to deal with was some vicious rant by a bastard.

“Look, I’m off duty in about two hours. I’ll swing by and we’ll talk about it, all right?”

“Fine, but no tequila. I have to go back to work tomorrow.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? I know they’re not releasing your mom yet.”

“I don’t have a choice. I have no sick days left and no more vacation. Unless I want to get fired and be really screwed, I have to go back. It’ll be fine, right? Everything always works out for the best.”

Phoebe wished she believed that. She told Charlotte she’d see her later, took one last look in on her mom, and headed home to her place. At least with her mom in the hospital, she could get a good night’s sleep in her own bed. She’d passed out on the floor last night and woke early, unable to do anything but think about how her date had gone from mediocre to downright nightmarish. Until she met the pirate. Ben. Ben the pirate. Not a very good fit, but it worked. Not like she’d ever see him again anyway.

Phoebe made a fresh pot of coffee then went to her desk to pull out some files she needed to finish up before returning to work the next day. Her job was pretty simple compared to what the techs did. But she wasn’t that great with computers. They tended to freeze on her and never work again. No, she was at home amongst her files in the archives room, doing the odd jobs here and there for others around the office. As one of the ladies called her, a highly-trained secretary. She was proud of where she was, getting things to run smoothly for everyone else, moving behind the scenes. She had become content with her lot in life. Since her mother became ill, any hope of pursuing her real dreams had been put on hold indefinitely.

Above her desk hung a beautiful picture taken of her working with some foster kids. Phoebe had spent so much time with them, counseling them, learning their stories. Though she wasn’t adopted herself, she’d had friends that were. Knew what they’d gone through. Helping people was something she’d wanted to do, but unlike Charlotte, she didn’t have the brains to be a nurse. But she knew how to get inside a kid’s head and help them understand that their situation was not the end of the world. Her plan had been to start a fundraiser and create a program that would target the youth of the city, but every time she brought it to Yancey and his goons, they laughed in her face.

If she wanted to fund something like that, she had to do it on her own.

Typical. They were sitting on a gold mine and refused to share with those who could use it.

Phoebe tried not to look at the picture too much. She’d been avoiding calls from the local teen shelters asking where she was. The kids missed her. But she didn’t have time for them right now. That, and she couldn’t handle the disappointment on their faces when she told them all her dreams had fallen through.

A couple hours later, she had files spread all across her living room floor, organizing and labeling, when a knock sounded at her door. “She’s right on time,” she muttered as she got to her feet and headed to the door. “Charlotte, I really think we need to—how the hell did you get up here?”

Mitch leaned against her doorframe, hands playing with his designer sunglasses. “I know some people, Phoebe.”

“Phoebe…who’s Phoebe?” she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

“Don’t lie to me. I know your real name, and I know who you work for.”

“Look, I don’t want trouble. Just get out of here or I’m calling the cops.”

“What, your boyfriend can’t stop by to say hello?”

“You’re not my boyfriend. Get out of here!” She tried to close the door, but he shoved his foot in and grabbed the edge. “Mitch, seriously. Go away!”

“No, not until you apologize for last night.”

Phoebe glanced behind her and realized her phone was on the other side of the room. “I’m not sorry. You were trying to offer me money for sex! Who does that? On a first date!”

“Listen, I’ll admit I might have gone a little overboard last night, but really, you need me.” He pulled out some rolled up papers from his back pocket and shoved them in her face.

“What are these?”

He stopped trying to get into her apartment and took a few steps back, holding up his empty hands. “I’m sorry for last night, really, okay? I just…it’s been a long time since I’ve dated, and you’re really very beautiful. I think…I think we can really help each other out.”

Phoebe was trying to think of something to say when she finally looked down at the papers. “My credit report? How…how did you get this?”

“I work in money. I know people. Using your middle name and mother’s maiden name…pretty clever, but it all leads back to you. Next time, use a full fake name if you don’t want to be found.”

She barely nodded, eyes glued to the numbers on the page before her. She was that much in debt? How had she let it get this bad and not even notice? There was no way she could keep paying to take care of her mother for another three months! It was going to wipe out her savings completely. She knew her mother already had nothing left. They’d spent what little there had been to bury her dad and pay for her prescriptions. It was all going to come crashing down on her in three short months…and her only option stood in the hallway, looking like the million-plus dollars he was worth.

“Listen, Mitch…last night…if you want to date me, that’s fine,” she said, trying to stay strong and think of her mother. “But you have to understand, I’m not just some gold digger who wants your money, and I’m definitely not going to just have sex with you because of it.”

“So…what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that we can date, try this out and see if it works. If—and that’s a big
if
—we think we can handle each other…then we’ll talk about future arrangements.”

He stared at her for a long second before his eyes softened and looked like the picture Phoebe had judged him by. He bobbed his head and ran his hand over his buzzed hair. “That will work just fine. Now then, since we’re dating again, I have a function to go to this coming Wednesday night. Would you do me the honor of being my date?”

“Function? Like black tie function?”

“Yes, is that a problem?”

She remembered the comment he’d made, and she glanced at her typical Sunday clothes of jeans filled with holes and baggy sweatshirt. “I don’t know, I’m a bit poor, remember?”