Page 25 of Bride on the Dotted Line

She does a soft laugh. “It’s just that Lena and Mason are going to kill me. And you, for that matter.”

“You can still back out, you know.”

“I’m not backing out.” The determined note in her voice impresses me. She sets her coffee mug on the table. “It’s three months of business, Mr. Harwood. I don’t run from business.”

I return to the chart and fill in my box next tochildhood fears:earthquakes, vampires, and Victor Harwood.

“Excellent,” I tell her. “Neither do I.”

We meet with our lawyers at Charters PR Management on Wednesday at one o’clock. I’m only mildly surprised when I exit the elevator and find Lena and Mason pacing around the reception area, muttering to each other.

They stop in their tracks as soon as I appear, and it’s like someone turned the temperaturewaydown. Lena’s eyes do a steely flash. Mason’s lips pinch into a line.

I stand at the entrance, arms going heavy at my sides.

Uh oh.

“Mr. Harwood,” Mason says. His arms are crossed tight. I can see the elbows of his shirt stretching. “Good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Bescht.” I nod at Lena, who’s tapping her toe, vibrating like an aerosol can in a fire pit. “Ms. Rathore.”

She opens her mouth, then closes it again, gaze shifting to Mason. If these two could vaporize me with a glare, I’d be a smoking pile of ash on the floor. Maybe I should have worn body armor instead of my Rolex.

“I see you’ve spoken to our mutual business partner,” I say.

The sound that comes out of Lena’s mouth would be comical in any other situation. “What do you mean,business partner?—”

“Lena,” Mason interrupts. “I think it’s best if I handle this one.” He turns to me, patting a hand over his pale hair. He’s slicked it back so hard it’s barely visible against his skin. “Sienna told us about your plan to fake-marry, Mr. Harwood. A reputation boost in exchange for paid debts.”

“That’s right.”

“From a PR perspective, it’s a little unorthodox, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I would.”

“A little unexpected.” His voice is ice cold. “A little fucking stupid, even.”

I unbutton my coat, shrugging it off and draping it over my forearm. As much as I don’t want to be read the Riot Act, I get it. It’s not every day that a billionaire asks your best friend to participate in a sham marriage. Years ago, if something like this had happened to Roderick, I would have been just as protective of him.

Not that he would have deserved it.

“Is Sienna with the lawyers already?” I ask.

Lena ignores the question. “Ninety days,” she spits, addressing Mason as if she can’t stand to look at me. “They’ll be married for ninety days before they get divorced. That’s plenty of time for them to mess things up.”

The muscles in my neck tense. “I can assure you Sienna and I have each other’s best interests in mind.”

“This is what you callbest interests?”

“The contract our lawyers have drawn up ensures there will be as little disruption to Sienna’s life as possible.”

Mason looks at me like I have one brain cell. “Oh, we’re not worried about that, babe.”

“Then what are you?—”

“We’re worried about her falling in love with you.”

A beat passes. The elevator whirs behind me, the car headed back down to fetch someone on a floor below us. I’m not sure I heard him right. Did he sayfalling in love?

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