Page 1 of The Bride's Billionaire

Chapter 1

Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

Kayla stood in Madame Rosario’s wedding dress shop on the Rua de Provencal, trying on a new dress. Her best friend, Tiff, was chattering with her on the phone at Kayla’s ear. “Is it poofy? ‘Cause I can’t do poofy.”

“It’s not poofy. This one is sleek.”

“Not too sleek though, right? Cause my hips are bigger than yours.”

“Here, I’ll switch to video call.” Tiff’s gorgeous red curls showed up on Kayla’s screen. “Ugh, the lighting in here is terrible.” Kayla moved out of the dressing area to stand on a raised platform by the window. The bridal stand was situated in a bay window with three full-length mirrors behind. People walking by on the busy street stopped to look and wave. She waved back and then held up the phone so Tiff could see in the mirror.

“OOH! I love that one. I think I like it even better than number two. Show me the back.”

Kayla angled the phone so her friend could see the mirror behind her. “It’s stunning. And it will fit you even better than it does me.”

A group of boys gathered at the window, one of them tucking a soccer ball under his arm. They stuck their thumbs up and pointed at her dress. She laughed and waved.

“Try on the Viagio. That’s the only other one I might like better than this one.”

“Okay, on it.” Kayla stepped away, and the boys waved frantically as if to get her to stay. They couldn’t be more than ten years old, and she couldn’t figure out what on earth was more interesting about her than a good soccer game. She held up a finger. Perhaps sign motions were the same no matter what language you spoke. Then she hurried to the back to change into yet another wedding dress.

She really had better things to do—a huge bid tomorrow morning to potentially her most important client ever. She crossed her fingers for the hundredth time, hoping she could pull it off, hoping her presentation would wow them enough to give her Finley Bottlers company the contract. But instead of reviewing her notes, she was at Madame Rosario’s.

Her best friend Tiff was getting married in five months, and when she’d heard that Kayla was going to be in Rio, she’d talked her into trying on wedding dresses by proxy. Apparently, Madam Rosario was famous all over the world for her one-of-a-kind designs.

Kayla wiggled into the next dress, and she knew Tiff would love it best. It hugged her in all the right places, the back was completely open, and it cut low at her breast. While Kayla tended to be more conservative in her clothing choices, Tiff loved to make a statement.

As soon as she stepped back out onto the platform at the window to show Tiff, the boys, who had backed off and stood in a circle bouncing the ball back and forth, came running. She laughed, absurdly hopeful they would appreciate this option too. But most of them didn’t seem to like this dress as much. They made faces, shook their heads and gave her half-thumbs-up. Just goes to show the difference between ten year olds and every other age of male.

“Show me the arm pit. How’s that gonna go down with a backless bra, or do I need pasties?”

She lifted one arm and angled the phone to show deep into her arm pit, just as the kids dragged over a man to stand at the window. She yelped and almost dropped the phone.

“What? I couldn’t get a good view, put it back.”

“Uh.”

“And show me the cleavage too. Are we the same size?”

A choking laugh sounded from outside. The new man’s eyebrows rose as she angled her phone up her armpit and then straight at her chest.Oh, save me now.She shrugged and then shimmied so Tiff could see how low the dress sat on her backside.

The kids outside mimicked her, wiggling their butts in her direction and laughing.

The man high-fived the kids and had an animated conversation while they pointed to her. She’d love to hear what was going down out there, watching as a smile grew on the face of the attractive, tanned man with curly blond hair. He crossed his solid arms, muscles bulging further, tilted his head as though formulating an opinion, and then indicated that she turn around in the dress.

Her mouth dropped open. Really? What was this guy?

He held his hands out, and she’d recognize that expression in any language.Why not?

So she curtseyed and then slowly spun, wiggling her hips just a little for effect.

All the boys gave half-thumbs-up or thumbs-down. “Uh, Tiff, no one here likes this one.”

“What! I love it. Who doesn’t like it?”

“Um, well. Just some…” She eyed the ten-year-olds. “it’s probably nothing to worry about.” She held out her skirts with questioning eyes to the man.

He shook his head.

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