Page 4 of Fairy Tale Husband

Privately Jake agreed. “And if I don’t find myself a wife?”

Peter shrugged. “Then I won’t make you reimburse me for the ticket.”

Jake actually smiled. “Fair enough.” His smile faded. “What about a prenuptial agreement? There’s not much point in gaining my inheritance if some greedy little viper’s going to snatch it away again.”

“I can draw up a document. Getting her to sign it will be your problem.”

A cold light entered Jake’s eyes. “She’ll sign it,” he assured curtly. “Or she’ll look elsewhere for a husband.”

“Then let me also warn you that without her having a lawyer representing her interests, the legality of the document may be at issue. She could contest it.”

“She won’t,” Jake stated with absolute certainty. “Otherwise she’ll find herself grabbing hold of more trouble than she can handle. The woman I marry won’t be some starry-eyed dreamer with visions of Prince Charming and fairy castles and happily-ever-afters dancing in her head. She’s going to be plain, practical, and levelheaded. And once the terms of the will are met, she’s going to walk away without a backward glance. Iguarantee it.”

CHAPTERONE

THE moment Wynne saw him, she knew she’d found her knight. If she hadn’t already believed in love at first sight, she would have in that instant. He stood tall and broad and indomitable against the dusk-filled November sky, everything about him suggesting Prince Charming, fairy castles, and happily-ever-afters all rolled intoone.

He was, as far as she could tell, perfection.

She first noticed him as she approached the “palace,” a huge mansion that rose out of the Nevada desert like a great white beacon of hope. He stood in the center of the flagstone walkway, taking in the whimsical, wedding cake design of the house with an expression of cynical disdain. Clearly he considered the overall effect pretentious.

She considered it a dream cometrue.

Not that she’d hold his attitude against him. Heavens, no. The man she married needed to be in touch with the real world, to have a tough, no-nonsense edge. He needed to be a match for Mrs. Marsh.

She slipped closer hoping to get a clear look at him. As though accommodating her, he turned slightly so the floodlights lining the walk stabbed across his face, revealing in brutal detail every austere plane and angle. What she saw stopped her cold. This was no Prince Charming boldly blocking the path, but a Prince of Darkness.

The man might have been hewn from solid rock, as starkly beautiful and as fatally dangerous as the desert surrounding them. Hair as black as coal swept back from a broad furrowed brow and framed high, arching cheekbones and a firm, squared jaw. His features were too bold to be called handsome, but she didn’t mind. The harsh, craggy planes appealed toher.

He looked down then, as though surprised to find her at his side, and lifted a dark eyebrow. She caught her breath, captured within the austere glare of his bright golden eyes. “Getting a jump on the competition?” he asked, his voice reminding her of the rumble of distant thunder.

She tilted her head to one side. “Excuse me?”

“You’re looking for a husband, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Then run along inside, elf. I’m no one you’d want to marry.”

He was accustomed to instant obedience, she realized. She suppressed a smile. He’d soon discover she didn’t skitter away at the first flash of lightning or crack of thunder—for that’s what his expression reminded her of, the threat of a fast approaching storm. “I need a strong man. You look strong,” she said instead.

“I need a wife to share my bed. And then, after a brief-as-possible marriage, to go away.” He folded his arms across his chest and lifted an eyebrow. “Is that what you want, too?”

“I want a man who likes to win,” she said, evading the question. “Someone who’s a fighter.”

“You waging war?”

She frowned, considering. “I guess you could call it war. All right, yes. I’m waging war. But Ialso need someone fair and reasonable and patient. A... agentle warrior.”

He laughed at that, amusement lightening his eyes, but doing nothing to ease the hardness of his features. “You have the wrong man,” he stated and walkedaway.

She watched him go, taking in his easy, long-legged gait, not in the least surprised when people quickly made room for him, giving way to the stronger force. That was how he’d be with Mrs. Marsh, she didn’t doubt for a minute. And though he claimed he wasn’t fair or reasonable or patient, she suspected he lied. Oh, not deliberately. He wasn’t the type. He just didn’t see his own goodness.

But shedid.

“You’ll do,” she whispered with a wide grin. “In fact, you’ll more than do.”

Jake wended his way through the crowd streaming toward the mansion. One down, he thought grimly, and only a few hundred more togo.

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