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  Engaged to the Billionaire

  Cora Bell

  Copyright © 2020 Cora Bell

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Summary

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

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  Summary

  Nick

  It should have been simple. Hire a woman to be my wife so I can inherit the family business. And I’d thought I’d found the perfect woman. Isabelle Davis.

  I know she can be professional. How do I know that? Because she hates me.

  Unfortunately, the more she refuses to be my wife, the more I want her. And I have the perfect plan to make her mine.

  Isabelle

  I was supposed to be helping my friend find a husband, but instead, Nicholas Holden offers me the job. He’s a big-shot billionaire with money on his mind and has no clue what kinds of things are going on in my life.

  At first, I refuse to marry him. I have bigger problems to deal with than being a billionaire’s bride. But when his offer solves all my problems, I agree to be his wife.

  But when I start to fall for Nick, I realize my feelings will ruin everything. How can I stay professional when all I want is Nick?

  Chapter 1

  I hustled alongside my best friend as she walked in quick strides on the downtown sidewalk.

  I wasn’t going to lie—even though I thought what she was doing was completely crazy, I kind of envied her for it.

  Becca always went for what she wanted—and right now, what she wanted was a husband.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked for the thousandth time.

  Becca flashed me a smile. I was probably the only one in the entire world who could see the flicker of strain behind it. “Of course. I’ve applied for a job at Holden Enterprises three times, interviewed twice—in two different departments—and I still don’t have a job there. If this is my way in, I don’t mind. Besides, it’s only temporary.”

  We reached the tallest building on the block and both took a moment to stare straight up at it.

  “That was really nice of you to come with me,” Becca said, keeping her eyes on the building.

  I reached out and gave her hand a squeeze. She’d done the same for me on more than one occasion. In fact, she’d been there for me last month when I’d gone to the hospital with my mom yet again for her condition.

  I blew out a quiet breath. Surgery. That was what my mom needed. And what we couldn’t afford.

  Not even with me working multiple jobs. She needed to quit hers, too, which meant even less money coming in. I just couldn’t stand to see her working so hard when her health was declining every day.

  Becca squeezed my hand. “You ready for this? Izzy?”

  I glanced over with a smile. She only called me Izzy when she was nervous. Or when I was nervous. Otherwise, it was Isabelle. Like the rest of the world.

  “Of course I’m ready,” I said. “Besides, it’s your interview.”

  She laughed and lead me through the doors. “Interview. How fucked up is that? An interview for a husband.”

  “Technically, he’s interviewing you,” I reminded her.

  Which was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever heard of, and I’d told Becca this more than once.

  “Top floor, of course,” Becca said, stepping up to the elevator.

  “Of course. He owns half the city. It would be beneath him to have an office on any other floor.” I grinned at my little pun, but my friend either didn’t notice or was too nervous to acknowledge it.

  We stepped inside with a few other women. Becca made a face at me. As we rode up floor after floor, her grimace grew more and more pronounced. Shit. The other women were here for Nicholas Holden, too. They had to be.

  Then again, why wouldn’t they be? Nick Holden was one of the city’s most eligible bachelors and he’d practically taken out a Craigslist ad to get the news out about “his new position.”

  I lowered my eyes instead of rolling them. The nerve of some people. First, he bought half the block of condos my mom and I lived in—which meant our rent would be going up, I was sure—and now he was trying to buy a wife, too?

  Nicholas Holden was one thing Becca and I would never agree on. She thought he was doing amazing things. That he was an amazing businessman. That he was charming and sexy and…well, I had to admit, I couldn’t deny the last part.

  He was sexy. Sexy enough I couldn’t look at a photograph of him for longer than a moment. His dark eyes penetrated mine and made me think of him looking other places.

  A flush of heat ran down my body.

  “I heard he already bought the ring,” one of the women said.

  Becca lifted her eyebrows at me and then angled her head to hear more of the conversation.

  “Of course he did,” the other one answered. “Nick Holden knows exactly what he wants. This isn’t about love, it’s a business transaction—and with how much money is sure to be involved, it makes sense.”

  “Don’t you think that’s a little cold?” I asked before I could help myself.

  Becca gripped my arm with a frown.

  Both women turned around at my question. The one on the left lowered her gaze to run the length of my body. From the non-descript summer dress to discount shoes.

  A smile quirked the corner of her mouth. “Please don’t tell me you’re here for the interview.”

  I swallowed hard. I knew I wasn’t as chic or sexy as them—or even Becca, who’d dressed in her most form-fitting business suit. Perfect in pinstripes and Louboutins.

  “She’s already taken,” Becca said coldly.

  The two women turned back around and resumed their conversation.

  A pit of anxiety formed in my stomach. I wasn’t technically taken because I’d only gone on a few casual dates with my neighbor before he’d basically ghosted me. He was probably looking for someone like the two women in front of me.

  Or Becca.

  They were goddesses. I was just Isabelle Davis. Ordinary.

  When the elevator door dinged and opened, Becca stepped to the side with me, giving the women an evil glare as they walked to the bank of clear glass walls—probably the entrance to Nick Holden’s office.

  “They’re assholes,” she told me. “Idiots. Just ignore them.”

  I flashed a smile. “Already done.”

  Almost. I couldn’t deny it hurt just a little. After all, I’d never been the attractive one. The sexy one. I was always the dependable one or the nice one. “That Isabelle is such a sweetheart” my grandma always used to say.

  Just once I wanted someone to say, “Isabelle Davis is sexy as hell” and actually mean it.

  “I think they’re your competition, though,” I told Becca.

  She glanced at the doors with her eyebrows lifted. And when she stepped a few feet closer, she froze.

  “Shit. There’s like a hundred women in there. And a few men.”

 
I moved next to her and saw what she was looking at. An entire lobby full of gorgeous people, all after the same job.

  And I wouldn’t have been surprised if that wasn’t all of them. Maybe that was all they could fit for now. Maybe this was just the first round.

  “It’s fine.” I nodded encouragingly at Becca. “You’re smart, beautiful, and a decent, caring person. You’re already way ahead of most of those people in there. And you tweaked your resume.” Becca nodded. “And you’re wearing your lucky shoes.”

  She grinned. “For sure.”

  “So, we’re good to go, right?”

  Becca straightened her shoulders. “Right. You’re still going in there with me, though, right?”

  Now that I’d seen all the beautiful people, I was starting to question the offer I’d made to sit with her. But I’d agreed, and I never went back on my word.

  “Of course.” I linked my arm through hers as we walked to the doors. “Let’s get you a husband.”

  Chapter 2

  “This is probably the most idiotic business decision I’ve ever seen you make,” Chase said.

  I gave him a lazy smile. “But it is a business decision.”

  Although it was starting to feel a lot more personal. We’d already interviewed fifteen women and none of them were doing anything for me.

  Which just went to show, I wasn’t looking at this as business as much as I was supposed to.

  I stood and stared out the wide bank of windows to the city beyond. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I tried to review my list of requirements for my future bride.

  Beautiful, charming, smart. Willing to let me take the lead.

  Was that all? That couldn’t be it because I’d already talked with a dozen women who fit that requirement.

  And there were probably three dozen more out in the lobby that would also do just fine for my purposes. After all, this was just a temporary arrangement.

  I’d been vague in the job listing, but I knew exactly what I wanted—no, what I needed.

  My father hadn’t said how I was supposed to get a wife or how long I needed one, he’d just said that the family business was mine once I was married. Easy peasy.

  I’d find a wife, we’d keep it business for a year or so, and then amicably end things. She’d get a nice payday, I’d get my company, and we’d both go on our merry way.

  This wasn’t the first time I’d made business arrangements for something that should have been personal. After all, I barely had time to date, let alone be married.

  I needed someone who understood that.

  “Maybe that’s the problem,” I said, turning to look at my lawyer.

  Chase lifted his eyebrows. “What’s the problem?”

  “All those women out there.”

  He nodded. “That’s what I’ve been saying this whole time. It’s doesn’t make sense, and this contract isn’t all that cut and dried. Let’s just rip it up. You know plenty of women and—”

  “No. That’s not what I meant. All those women out there—and the ones I already know—are looking for the same thing.”

  Chase snorted. “Exactly. They want money and power. They want the famous bachelor.”

  “Right.” Though the idea made me grimace inside. I played the part, but there were moments when it would be nice not to be wanted for anything other than myself.

  “I should be looking for someone else—someone the opposite of those women,” I told Chase.

  “Or not looking for someone at all,” he said. “At least not like this. This really is a big mistake.”

  “Yeah, you’ve told me that more than once,” I said, my voice lowering. “And as I’ve pointed out more than once, you’re my lawyer. Your job isn’t to tell me what I’m doing wrong, your job is to protect me from it if I do do something wrong.”

  Chase clamped his mouth shut. He was a friend, but he also knew where he stood. First and foremost, we were in business together. I paid his salary, and it was a salary that gave him a very comfortable lifestyle. It didn’t make sense to jeopardize it.

  “All right.” Chase nodded. “So what do we do?”

  “Send them home. All of them.”

  He paused, looking unsure. After all, we’d only seen just over a dozen women. And there were still more, right?

  I reached for the phone on my desk and buzzed my secretary. Unlike Chase, she never gave me her opinion about anything—including these interviews. She just cheerfully did her job and most of the time treated me like I was a little kid—maybe even her son. She had nothing negative to say and hardly did anything more but smile and keep busy.

  “Yes, Mr. Holden?” she asked.

  “How many women are out there?”

  Mrs. Claybourne paused. “Seventy-five.”

  I looked at Chase. “That’s a lot.”

  “Would be more but I’ve told the rest to wait out by the elevators. We’re running out of room and some of the women are…” She lowered her voice. “Anxious to see you.”

  I could tell she was omitting something. Maybe a few somethings. She certainly wasn’t used to catering to a roomful of women who were all after one thing.

  Me.

  “We’re going to go ahead and send them home,” I began.

  She made a low noise of protest before clearing her throat. “Of course, sir.”

  Dammit. Now she had to deal with the women in the lobby and by the elevators. Nearly a hundred women who were no doubt going to be furious that they hadn’t gotten their interview.

  “Never mind, Mrs. Claybourne. I’ll handle it.”

  “Sir?”

  “It’s fine,” I said and pressed the button on my phone.

  Chase stood. “You want me to go tell them all to go home?”

  I shook my head. “It might go over better if I do it.”

  He frowned, looking like he didn’t agree for a minute. That was about par for the course lately. But he didn’t argue, just followed me in the direction of the door.

  I straightened my tie and buttoned my jacket. Might as well look good while I was telling them to leave. After all, I might need them to come back. I just wasn’t sure yet. I needed to tweak this plan.

  I opened the door and dozens of expectant eyes lifted to stare at me. A few women even gasped.

  Damn. There wasn’t a single unattractive woman in the group. And they all looked put together. Professional and ready to do the job.

  “Ladies,” I said, infusing charm into my smile. “Thank you all for coming.”

  The woman next to me fluttered her eyelashes. The one next to her slowly crossed her legs, making my gaze stray for a moment.

  Double damn. Maybe this wasn’t the best tactic to find a wife, but it might be a great way to find a woman to take to the next charity event I needed to go to. Or brunch with my parents.

  My smile faded. No, I was supposed to be bringing a wife for those functions.

  Which meant I needed to focus.

  “I’m sorry to tell you this, but interviews are finished for the day,” I said firmly.

  Hushed murmurs traveled around the room. “He already found someone?” “I bet it was that tall brunette—the second one. He always dates brunettes.”

  “No decisions have been made yet,” I told them, letting my gaze roam the room. It landed on a woman by Mrs. Claybourne’s desk. She wore a simple cotton sundress and looked so out of place, I almost smiled. “We will be in touch if we need you to return.”

  The woman in the sundress rolled her eyes. “Of course,” she said to the woman next to her and murmured something else I couldn’t make out.

  I turned to head back into the office while the women shuffled from their seats, but curiosity had me turning back.

  The woman had her arms folded and a glare aimed in my direction. When I met her eyes, she held that stare like she was trying to melt me with her anger.

  Interesting.

  Instead of going back into the room, I strode straight into the waiting area and r
ight up to the woman.

  Her cheeks flushed the closer I got, and by the time I was nearly toe to toe with her, she’d dropped her chin and was muttering something to the woman next to her again.

  It gave me a perfect view of her neck, the long line of porcelain skin that looked even more perfect up close. Her honey hair hung over her shoulder, looking like silk. I almost reached out to touch it.

  “Excuse me,” I said, deep voice making the voices around the room go silent.

  She looked up with nervous eyes.

  “I’d like to speak with you in my office.”

  “But—but I thought we were all dismissed,” she said.

  Dismissed. Ouch. Yeah, I guess I’d kind of made it seem like that.

  The woman next to her elbowed her in the arm. “Isabelle,” she hissed.

  “I’m not here for an interview,” the woman said, lifting her chin. “I’m just here for moral support.”

  Moral support? For her friend, I supposed. Well, that gave her points. If she wasn’t here for me, that meant she could be more professional about this, right?

  Unless she was already married—or dating someone.

  The idea of that sent a ripple of jealousy through me. Imagining someone else’s hands on that perfect skin had me stepping forward to grip her arm. No ring on her finger—at least that was a start.

  “Please join me in my office,” I told her firmly, trying not to breathe in her scent. It was intoxicating.

  Her mouth dropped open in protest, but her friend was nudging her, pushing her toward me so she’d follow me to the office.

  “Really, Mr. Holden, I didn’t come here for the interview,” she said.

  I barely flicked her a glance. “That’s why I’d like to speak with you.”

  She went silent and continued to walk with me, past glares and whispers. Past women who I knew were there for the exact opposite reason Isabelle was.

  They all wanted to be here, which meant they couldn’t see this as a business arrangement. They were here for the money, the bachelor. Or, like Chase said, the power.