Fraudulent Fiancée

Book 1: Billion Heir

by Jessika Klide

Genres: Billionaires Romance; Military Romance; Romantic Suspense; Contemporary Romance; Erotic & Steamy Romance; New Adult Romance; protective hero; dark fairy tale; navy seal romance

Synopsis

A secret tryst in an elevator between strangers leads to a very public proposal in this fake fiancée romcom.

 

Our first kiss was private, but our second kiss was anything but. 

He cupped my face, feeling my fear.

He stared into my eyes, afraid I would bolt. 

He said softly. ”Trust me, Princess." 

Then, his perfectly sculpted lips captured mine. 

He kissed me, not like he needed me, but like he wanted me. 

Then, the emcee’s high-pitched voice yelled into the microphone. "What just happened, folks?" 

 

The wedding pact was sealed. 

I was his Fraudulent Fiancée. 

It’s only for a month. Then it’s over.

It’s fake. It’s not forever. 

But it feels too right to be wrong.

 

Fake it till you make it is never a factor in this enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, military, secret billionaire romance. 

Release date: September 23, 2021

Sample

Prologue

d’Artagnan Dugan

“D?” Cathy’s voice breaks before she can finish saying my name.

I lean forward onto the table, scanning the room. It’s a habit every SEAL has when the hair on the back of your neck rises because you sense something isn’t right. You check the area.

The team members are preoccupied with other things. Jocko is bouncing the ball off the wall for Lucifer. Crockett is cleaning his weapon. The other members of Bravo are playing cards. Each is within earshot, but they are focused on the task at hand, giving the man using the satellite phone in the common room at least a semblance of privacy. We are in-between missions at the moment and just hanging out waiting for the next crisis that only special warfare operators can correct.

“Catherine, what’s wrong?” I ask. The weight that settles on my shoulders deepens the tone of my voice. I’m halfway around the world from her in a base camp that doesn’t technically exist.

“Nothing.”

I take a deep breath as the weight shifts from my shoulders to my heart. Cathy is five years younger than I am and graduating from college in a week. I know it’s an emotional time for her since Dad died. She’s alone with only our stepmother, Tiara, who is a real piece of work. Nothing at all like our mother was, who passed away when I was ten. She was warm, sweet, kind, and loving. What Dad saw in Tiara is beyond me. She is cold, manipulative, selfish, and hateful. But it is what it is, so Cathy and I know we are all each other has.

She continues, “I’ve been binge-watching all the surprise homecoming videos. I wish you could be here to share my moment, but I know that’s not going to happen, is it?” Her voice rises and hangs on the end with hope for the impossible.

I tell her the truth. “You know I would if I could.”

She sighs, “I know. It’s just not going to be the same without you being here.”

“I’m awfully proud of you, and Mom and Dad would be too.”

She clears the emotion out of her throat. When she continues, her tone is lighter. “Tiara’s throwing me a graduation party. At least, she’s good at that. She’s invited everyone we know. She’s teased that she has a really big gift to give me. I can’t imagine what she’s dreamed up, but I’m sure I’ll be shocked.”

“Humph,” slips out before I ask about our stepmother, “She’s playing nice right now?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest.” Cathy says, “She’s hinted that I’m going to love it, but she’s just making sure I understand how I’m supposed to behave in front of everyone.”

I smirk. “Hang in there, kiddo. The day I’m released from the Navy will be the day that her reign comes to an end.”

The commander walks in and says, “Wheels up in fifteen. We got the green light.”

My voice lowers as I tell my little sister, “We’re rolling out. I’ll check in when I can. Keep your chin up. Don’t let her see you sweat.”

“I won’t. Stay safe, bubba. Love you!”

“Yep. You too.”

 

One week later…

Rapunzel Robinson

“Zella, why do you think Mr. Schmitt has called a meeting?” Jeri asks.

I shrug, “I have no idea.”

“It can’t be good news.” She shakes her head.

I wait with the other ten women who work the little corner boutique at the back of the store for the owner to arrive.

“I bet he’s selling.”

“He would be crazy not to. The real estate this store is sitting on is worth five times what the store is worth.”

“But Schmittville is an icon.”

“That’s dying a slow death.”

“What are you going to do if he sells?”

“What the rest of you are going to do. Bus out to the malls for work.”

“I hate riding the bus.”

“Me too, but I don’t know how to drive.”

When Mr. Schmitt walks in, he makes the announcement we were all dreading to hear. “Ladies, I’ve sold Schmittville. But I’ve sold it with the condition that the boutique remains open for at least one year. The new owner has agreed not to close it.”

He says how much we have all meant to him over the years, and he gives each of us a big bonus. Then he hugs our necks and walks away from the business his family has owned for generations.

Then two days later, a woman in her early forties and a college-aged girl walk in. Both are polished, high-society, and dressed to kill.

Jeri greets them, “Good morning, ladies, may I help you find something?”

“I am Tiara Dugan, and this is my daughter, Catherine.” She states with an air of bitchiness, then pauses and waits for a reaction from Jeri.

Jeri very professionally answers, “Welcome, Tiara. Catherine. I’m Jeri.” She waits for Tiara to tell her what they are interested in, but the bitch only glares at her.

Taking a step back, Jeri smiles sweetly and turns towards me, saying, “And this is our manager, Zella. She will be happy to assist you.”

I step forward, smiling sweetly, and take charge. “Let me see … you’re a size three?” I ask the girl, knowing she isn’t here to watch the bitch try on clothes. She has to be the one who will be shopping.

The girl’s eyes twinkle while the bitch’s narrow. “We aren’t shopping.”

“Ah, then you must be the new owners.”

She smiles smugly and announces that she’s purchased the real estate, but she gave the boutique to her daughter as a graduation gift.

“Oh, well,” I say to Catherine as I offer her my hand to shake. “So, you’re the new boss? I’m delighted to meet you. Let me show you around and introduce you to the staff.” Then I look at Tiara and tell her, “I’m sure you don’t want to be bored with the details. There is a sitting room through that door with champagne. We’ve been expecting you.” Then I turn to Jeri and volley her back. “Jeri will be happy to show you the way.”

Jeri almost laughs, but she manages to control it and says, “Right this way, Tiara. We have strawberries dipped in white chocolate as well.”

 

One year later …

d’Artagnan

I fold the letter from my father’s attorney, Mr. Hall, and look into his face. “Looks like I need to find a woman to marry.”

He smiles and says, “I was right, wasn’t I?”

I nod. “Yes, sir. This is the first I’ve learned of this.”

He nods. “I thought as much when I hadn’t heard from you with the deadline looming.”

I hold my hand out, and he takes it. “Thanks for personally delivering the document.”

“You’re welcome. Your father was my friend.”

“So, as his friend, I want to ask you to keep your visit here confidential.”

He nods, “I won’t tell a soul.”

Chapter 1

The day of the Children’s Charity Auction Fashion Show.

Zella

BONG! BONG!

"Really?" I roll my eyes and shake my head, then honk my horn and shake my fist at the imbecile cutting in front of me.

BONG! BONG!

"Ugh! It must be important." I instruct my phone as I turn onto Market Street. "Hey, Siri, read new messages."

Siri responds, "You have one new message from Cathy, my boo." Then her monotone voice says, "OMG! I'm freaking out! Call me quick!"

I see Cathy's panicked face clear as day. I love her to pieces, but she's high strung. When she gets nervous, she gets fidgety, then anxious, then rash.

"Would you like to reply?" Siri asks.

"No," I tell my phone. "Call Cathy, my boo."

When we're connected, Cathy answers, "Zella, OMG! How far out are you? "

I speak softly into the phone. "Calm down, Sweetie. Breathe deep. I'm almost there. I'm pulling into the parking garage now."

"Zella, hurry. I'm a nervous wreck!"

The phone connection dies as I enter the concrete parking garage. "Lord, I'm going to have to find Cathy a Xanax."

Driving around and around looking for an empty place to park, I start to get excited too. This fashion show is going to be epic. When our gown is introduced, all our dreams for Cathy's Corner Boutique will come true, including putting The Wicked Queen in her unimportant, unnecessary, un-influential place.

d’Artagnan

"Come down here and help me." Nancy looks up at me and giggles. "I can't find it."

I laugh. "Not on your life. Not in this monkey suit. You're on your own."

She giggles again, and I shake my head. What else is there to do? Proposing tonight is a bust. She's too fried.

The headlights of a car entering the level distract me, and I glance at my Uber app to see if it's Nancy's ride, but it isn't, so I break the news to her while I watch the car park. "You're too stoned. I can't take you inside like this."

She giggles, "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have, but I just wanted a little toke to take the edge off. I was so nervous. But wham! I'm fried! That is some good shit! You sure, you don't want a toke?"

"I prefer adrenaline."

"Really? How do you take the hit? Don't say, a jab 'cause I'm not into needles."

I chuckle, "Firefight."

"You're a fireman?"

I laugh out loud now, "No. I'm a SEAL."

"What's that?"

"Never mind. Your ride is here." I offer my hand to help her up as the car stops next to us.

"I found it!" She shouts and holds it up to show me.

The couple from the car stroll by holding hands, and the guy gives me a head nod with a 'sup.'

As I pull Nancy to her feet, another car enters the level and circles around the aisles, looking for an empty place. She taps me on the chest and says, "Call me later, and we'll hook up. Tonight, doesn't have to be a total bust."

I put my arm around her and guide her to the car. The driver lowers the passenger window and asks, "Dugan?"

"Yeah, man." I open the rear door and help Nancy inside while I explain. "She's pretty wasted. Take her to Baker's Talent Agency. Don't go anywhere else."

"The one on Lovett Street?"

"That's the one."

"You got it."

Nancy giggles. "Bye, D! Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me 'cause I can't remember what it was."

"Good to know," I tell her as I shut the door. When I stand, I scan the area for the circling car and see it pulling into an empty spot one aisle over.

As the Uber pulls away, taking my plan of action to meet the terms of the trust fund my father left me, the only thought I have is 'the only easy day was yesterday.' When it takes the down ramp and vanishes out of sight, I lean against my corvette and breathe, scanning the area.

The parked car's door opens, and a pair of platform pumps at least eight inches worth of sassy in hot pink perfection gently touches the ground. Followed by the longest legs, my deprived mind has seen in years. Topped with a tush to die for, an hourglass waist, and a set of tits that make my mouth water, but the kicker is the long blonde hair that drapes her body like a curtain, teasing the eye with what lies behind it.

The exquisite creature walks with the grace of a model to the trunk of her car and removes a garment bag, giving me an image of her ass jacked up, ready to be taken from the rear. Then she walks to the elevator.

I push off my corvette and follow her. The twitching rhythm of her long stride swings her hair in a sexy beat, playing a melody that speaks straight to my soul. She takes her phone out of her purse, and looks at it, then rolls her eyes and shoves it back in. At the elevator, she leans forward to push the down button, and her ass cocks perfectly.

The elevator doors open, and she steps inside. When she turns around to select her floor, the light illuminates her face. She is exquisitely beautiful with an oval-shaped face, big almond-shaped eyes, a small straight nose, and perfect-sized lips. They aren't plumped, nor are they thin. Hmm, they are heart-shaped perfection.

She steps back as the doors close, and I inhale a deep breath as I slide my hand inside my jacket pocket to touch the five-carat diamond ring I intended to give my fake fiancée. I wonder ….