WIFE WANTED (A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance) (26 page)

“Sure. You look like someone who likes it dark and strong,” she said, a faint smile curving her lips.

Nick looked at her, trying to determine if she was serious. From the glint in her eyes, he could tell she was teasing him. This would have been the perfect time to invite her to dinner or coffee or whatever, but he didn’t do it. She would turn him down. She looked like one of those women who liked the thrill of being chased but never really gave in to a man. He didn’t want to give her the upper hand, at least not yet.

“Very perceptive,” he had replied, smiling at her.

“No, just served enough coffee to know what my customers might like,” she said flatly.

Sharp tongue, certainly; she had a smart mouth. “So how did you guess I like it dark and strong?” He could have turned on the charm and gotten her to his side, but she didn’t look at all interested in him.

“Your watch. A man’s watch says a lot about him.”

He looked at his Rolex. Damn. She was indeed cautious. “Oh yeah?”

“Yes. I can tell you like it dark and strong, because you’re sort of the bossy type.”

“You’re right again,” he had told her but didn’t justify himself. Yes, he liked his coffee strong, and he could be quite bossy. Demanding was the word his closest staff used. Yes, he could be demanding and pushy, but that had shaped him into one of the most powerful and richest men in the country. He had no apologies for that. If anything, it was his privilege.

When she returned with his coffee, she had asked with a faint smile on her face, “Is that all you’ll be wanting today, sir? May I get you a bagel, perhaps?”

He had been taken aback by her calling him sir, but when he looked at her, she was still smiling, teasing. “Not today, thanks. But may I invite you to dinner?”

She didn’t hesitate with her answer. “I don’t date customers.”

“How about I don’t buy the coffee. Then I won’t be a customer,” Nick had joked, but the joke didn’t go down well.

“No, sir. Not interested. Here’s your coffee.” She had almost pushed the coffee into his hands. “If you’ll excuse me, there’s a line behind you.”

Nick didn’t look behind him. What did it matter? The world usually waited on him hand and foot, and the line behind him was no exception to the rule. He smiled at her again and handed her a twenty, but she rejected it.

“It’s on the house. But please don’t ask me out again. The answer will always be no,” she had informed him before waving him off so she could help the next customer.

Nick had gone to the side of the café to nurse his drink and his pride. How dare she dismiss him? Did she not have a clue who he was? In situations where he felt slighted, he would have usually told off the girl and stormed out. Childish, yes, but being rich meant he could get away with some dumb shit sometimes. This time, though, he had wanted the girl and would swallow his pride to get her into his bed, even if only once.

He had not felt the need to inform her who he was but had quietly sat in the corner of the café and watched her until it became rude. She never gave him a second glance, but within that short span of time as he observed her, he had learned so much about her, more than the private detective could ever tell him. He saw the way she brushed a loose stand of hair out of her face again and again. That alone told him she was a little messy and rather quick-witted; otherwise she would simply redo her ponytail.

The way she smiled at her co-workers told him she had a good heart, but she didn’t look like someone who could be taken for granted. His observation told him she would be hard to get but worth the chase, and he was up to it. If she had smiled at him or encouraged him, he would have gone up to her and invited her to dinner again, or given her his card and told her to call him at her convenience. At such times, most girls would take a brief look at the card and recognition would hit them, and they would suddenly become putty in his hands. Not this one.

He had hung around the café for a while, and as soon as he left, he had called his private investigator to get more information about her.

Twenty-four hours later, he was holding her entire life in a file in his hands. He pulled out a picture of her and smiled. She would never be anyone’s puppy. Even the way she posed confidently in the picture told him the only time she would ever bark would be in the bedroom. Or maybe purr. Whatever. And if he wanted her in his bed, he had to do something about it. Get her into his space. Maybe get her to the annual ball where he could woo her with kindness and luxury. It didn’t take him long to decide to invite her to his company’s annual ball.

When he first came up with the plan, he was so sure she would call him and tell him he had the wrong Sara Nolles, in which case he would have explained to her that she was welcome to come since she already had the card. He had been waiting all day for her to call him, but his phone had yet to ring. Either she hadn’t seen the card yet or had decided to ignore it, but he was hoping she would have at least acknowledged the receipt of the card. Either way, he was going to move ahead with the next stage in the plan with the solid assumption that she would come out of curiosity.

SARA

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of the doorbell ringing. I ran to the door, expecting to see my best friend from kindergarten, Amy, who always showed up at odd hours at my house. She usually unlocked the door with the spare key she had, but sometimes she rang the doorbell first just in case I was in some compromising situation with a non-existent man. It didn't matter these days because I didn't have a boyfriend, so the worst thing that could happen if she opened the door without warning would be to see me naked. That she had seen a million times over the twenty years of our friendship.

I didn't bother putting my robe on. Only when I opened the door did I realize that I was practically naked, having slept in just a tee-shirt. But it was too late to close the door. I stood self-consciously in front of a delivery man who handed me a gold box. He looked at me for a few seconds, probably taking note of my nipples, which had hardened against my tee-shirt in the draft of cold air from the opened door.

"Good morning, Ms. Nolles?" he asked, looking around like he was lost.

"Yes, I’m Ms. Nolles." I looked at his badge, which had the Saunders Empire logo and his name. "Hello, David.”

He also looked down at his badge and smiled at me. "Ms. Sara Nolles?" he asked again as if to ascertain he was in the right place and I was the right person.

"Yes, I'm Sara Nolles," I replied again.

"I trust you received your personal invitation from Mr. Saunders?"

"Yes..." I said, unsure why he was asking. “But there seems to be a mix up.”

"I can’t speak for the mix up, ma’am. You may have to call the company directly. I’m here to deliver a follow-up from the card. This is from Mr. Saunders," he said, handing me the box.

Before I could say a word, he had turned away. "No wait, David. I don’t think you have the right Sara Nolles. I mean, I did get a card yesterday in the mail, but I think …”

"If you got a card, ma'am, then this box is for you. My instructions were to deliver this to you at this address and confirm you received a card yesterday."

"Yes," I said, still unsure.

"I suggest you call the RSVP number on that card if you have any questions." He offered a faint smile.

"Sure. I will. Thank you,” I said. I sighed and took the box inside. It was a decently sized box but didn't weigh much. Wrapped in a pretty bow, the box smelled nice as if it had a built-in fragrance. I set it on my living room table and slumped onto the couch.

The box looked tempting and I bet it contained some goodies. But it wasn't mine. It was addressed to me, but I was the wrong Sara Nolles. The most sensible thing to do was return the box to Saunders Empire on Monday or call the number on the card and ask them to pick it up and send it to the right owner. I thought of the million reasons I shouldn't open the box - then I thought of one reason why I should. I had never been given a gift box from a man, not to mention a billionaire. Surely whatever he had sent would be amazing; I felt justified to open the box since it had my name on it.

Once I convinced myself it was okay, I didn't waste another minute. I quickly untied the shiny bow embossed with the Saunders Empire logo. I took a deep breath and opened up the box.

"Wow!" I exclaimed, shocked. The doorbell rang before I could process what was inside the box.

I knew it was Amy because, before I could get up, the key was already turning and she was yelling. "Sara, I'm coming in!"

Shit. I didn't have time to hide the box, and I really didn't want Amy to see it. She was my best friend and I loved her to death, but if she saw it, the chances of me returning the box to the right owner would end. Amy was the only person who knew how to make me live on the edge and take chances. Some days, I needed that push, but this time, I needed privacy. I tried to cover the box, but she was by my side in a few steps.

"Hey, what's that?" she asked as she sat next to me and took the top off.

"Good morning, Amy," I sighed. "I was just about to figure it out."

Amy didn't speak as she lifted a jewelry box, which had been carefully placed in the center of the box. I tried to take it from her, but she pushed my hands away and opened it.

"Is this shit real?" she asked as the glare of the morning light coming in my tiny window shone on a necklace set with shiny stones.

"I guess," I answered with a shrug, taking the box from her and feeling the stones. They looked like diamonds. Big, chunky diamonds set into a necklace.

"No way this is cubic zirconium. Is this from Jim?"

"You know Jim and I broke up," I said.

"Oh yeah, the asshole.”

I didn't care to revisit my experience when I caught my then boyfriend messing around with his coworker in the printer room. He had dumped me like I had cheated on him. He had claimed he was in love with the girl and wanted to marry her. Since I was no longer in love with him, it didn't hurt as much as it could have. I had simply wished them luck and moved on.

"Sorry," Amy said, realizing her joke wasn't all that funny. “I shouldn’t talk bad about your ex.”

“That’s fine,” I mumbled. “He was an asshole.”

"So who would send you this necklace? Who are you fucking?”

“Amy!”

“Just asking. Men don’t buy jewelry for women without wanting more from them. It's absolutely gorgeous, by the way. You should try it on."

"I can’t try it on. It's not mine."

Amy looked at the cover of the box. "Says Sara Nolles here."

I nodded but didn’t explain it was probably the wrong Sara Nolles. Instead, I reached into the box and found a gold envelope. I tried to hide it from Amy, who was busy admiring the necklace. But she saw it and snatched it out of my hands.

"I swear, I’ll be so mad if you're dating someone and refused to tell me," she smirked as she ripped open the envelope and pulled out a card.

"Give it to me, Amy," I said, trying to take it from her, but she playfully pushed me aside, and using one hand, she pinned me to the chair while she extended the hand that held the card.

"Sara. It will be my pleasure if you wear this to the ball. I hope we can complete our unfinished business," she read aloud. "Eagerly waiting for you, Nick."

Amy handed the card to me and stood up, hands akimbo. "Who is Nick? Why didn't you tell me you were dating someone? I thought we shared secrets. All secrets. Eagerly waiting for you? What unfinished business?”

"Amy, it's a misunderstanding. That's what I've been trying to tell you."

"Is that a real diamond necklace?" she asked, her eyes returning to the necklace which lay on the counter.

"Yes. It's from Nick Saunders."

"Nick Saunders? Billionaire playboy Nick Saunders?"

"Yes," I said softly, too tired to defend myself.

"Are you sleeping with that asshole and didn't tell me?"

"What? Of course not. I've never even met him!"

"So why is he sending you gifts? Why is he talking about unfinished business?"

"Because I think he thinks I'm some other Sara," I told her as I walked over to the side table on my bed where the card from the day before was lying. I picked it up and handed it to Amy.

"What's that?" She eyed me as she took the card and read it.