Wanted: Billionaire's Wife. Susannah Erwin

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      His phone rang, an insistent buzz. He looked at it, and the CEO feared across Silicon Valley reappeared. “I have to take this. I’ll see you in my office at two thirty.” It was a command, not a question. Before she could respond, he was gone, leaving eddies in the air.

      She let out her breath as the adrenaline surging in his presence slowly retreated. Her gaze swept the bare walls and scuffed floors. It was hard to believe two weeks ago she thought her job was secure. Of course, two weeks ago she also thought her strong, athletic teenage brother would remain in the best of health. Before the accident, Danica thought her life was on a straight road, with maybe the occasional dip or hill. Now? Nothing but blind curves and unmarked hazards.

      Like the blind curve Luke Dallas represented. She squeezed her eyes shut. She’d make it work. To help her brother get the care he needed, she’d do almost anything.

      She left the office with her box of personal possessions in hand and headed to the nearest library to log into the employee-only portal on the Rinaldi Executive Search website. As she anticipated, the passwords hadn’t been changed. She filled out the template agreement for executive search services, changing the words and terms as necessary. After her finger hovered over the keyboard for several heartbeats, she pressed Send.

      * * *

      Luke wasn’t sure if he’d made an expensive blunder or hit upon a stroke of genius. The decision to hire Danica Novak to find him a wife so he could jump through Nestor Stavros’s ridiculous hoop seemed right at the time. A week later, driving in his car on his way to work, it seemed like a damn foolish idea. Especially since he had yet to see any viable work product from Ms. Novak.

      He refused to think he been taken in by big green eyes and a luscious mouth meant to be kissed slowly and thoroughly. He found her physically attractive, yes. But she also exhibited a quick wit and a willingness to go toe to toe with him that suggested she was intelligent and more than capable. He just needed to see the evidence of it. Now.

      He parked his BMW i8 in the parking space marked with his name and strode through the glass doors engraved with the Ruby Hawk logo, forgoing the elevator in favor of taking the stairs two by two up to the third floor that housed the main operations. Today was going to be yet another difficult one. Cinco Jackson wrote another article about the Stavros Group acquisition, and this time he mentioned the deal might fall apart if certain unnamed conditions weren’t met.

      Anjuli Patel met him as he exited the stairwell. He did a double take as he took in her outfit. The chief financial officer of Ruby Hawk and his second-in-command, she normally wore carefully color-coordinated outfits and tasteful jewelry. This morning she looked as if one of her three-year-old twins had chosen her clothing. “Another article just appeared in the Silicon Valley Weekly,” she said. “My husband texted me from the gym at 6:00 a.m.”

      “Yes. I saw it. I’m sure everyone has,” he answered without breaking stride.

      Anjuli fell in beside him and matched his speed. “How much truth is in it? Is the Stavros Group removing you when the deal goes through? Is the deal going through?” Her dark gaze sparked with anxious curiosity. She knew as well as he did how much the influx of cash from the acquisition was vitally needed.

      “Let’s talk.” He beelined for his office. Like most tech companies, Ruby Hawk employees worked in an open plan bullpen. No doors, no cubicles, just desks pushed together to form team clusters. But recently Luke took over one of the glass-walled conference rooms that ringed the outer wall for more privacy during the acquisition discussions. He’d need it today.

      “Let’s talk in a good way? Or let’s talk and it’s bad?” she asked.

      “Just be prepared,” he said. “Run the numbers if the Stavros Group stays with the deal, and then run the numbers if they don’t.”

      “Which set do you want first?”

      The sooner he knew what he was up against, the better. “The latter.”

      “So it’s bad.” Her worried gaze swept over the engineers sitting at low desks. A few browser windows featuring the Silicon Valley Weekly website closed as Luke and Anjuli passed by.

      “It might be.” He increased his stride to pull ahead of her.

      His steps slowed as he neared the door to the conference room. A clump of his top executives occupied the space between him and the door. Every single person standing outside his office he had handpicked to be on his team. In many cases, he persuaded them to leave lucrative salaries and promising career trajectories to join him at Ruby Hawk. He owed them, more than he could express.

      “There he is.” The knot of executives pressed forward.

      “Is it true?”

      “What’s happening with the acquisition?”

      “Are you leaving the company?”

      He caught sight of a messy blond ponytail on the outer fringes of the group. Good. He needed Danica—or rather, he corrected his thoughts grimly, he needed her work, now more than ever.

      He held up a hand and the questions quieted down. “Don’t pay attention to the rumors. Our response is to keep our heads down and continue to do good work. But I do need to see her.” He indicated with a jerk of his chin for Danica to come forward.

      Her startled gaze met his. “Me?” she sputtered.

      “You. Anjuli, let’s meet after you run those numbers. Everyone else, back to your desks. If you want to gossip, do it on your own time.” He stepped forward to usher Danica into his office as the small crowd dispersed at his command.

      * * *

      Danica didn’t have time to form a protest. His hand on the small of her back guided her, its warmth radiating through the thin cotton jersey of her shirt. He indicated a chair in front of his desk and let go of her arm, not a second too soon for her comfort. The door shut behind them with a resounding click.

      “What can I do for you?” she asked, sitting gingerly on the edge of a clear molded acrylic chair. Her back was to the glass wall, but her spine prickled with the heat of at least half a dozen stares aimed straight at her.

      He sat down on the opposite side of the repurposed-wood conference table. He pushed a button on a remote control and mechanized shades unrolled over the windows, shielding them from the curious gazes.

      The light in the room dimmed, the atmosphere changing from corporate to intimate. She was very aware they were the only two people in the room.

      His shoulders seemed to fall slightly. It was a small chink in his usually impenetrable armor of arrogant self-confidence. She yearned to reach out and smooth the faint creases marring his brow. “What’s wrong?” she tried again, her tone soft.

      The vulnerability disappeared as quickly as it had revealed itself, causing the temperature in the room to fall a few degrees. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

      She resisted the urge to turn around and point at the now-shaded glass wall. “The angry mob searching for pitchforks and torches was just my imagination?”

      His eyebrows drew together. “A vivid one. That was nowhere near a mob, and they weren’t angry.”

      “A СКАЧАТЬ