Billionaire Bad Boy's Fake Bride: BWWM Romance Read Free Page A

way from her apartment on the Lower East Side, and she reminded herself there was a bonus in her future to pad the expense. For that matter, she could simply submit the receipt to petty cash as a business expense the next day. With that thought in mind, she added another twenty dollars, deciding Mr. Blackwell—Connor, at least for tonight—could be a big tipper.
    She flashed the driver a smile as she got out, taking one more chance to adjust her dress before she walked up the marble stairs and tapped on the ornate wooden door. It was only after she had done so that she saw the doorbell, but when the door opened a moment later, the uniformed butler-type didn’t seem bothered by the fact that she had knocked rather than rang the bell. He simply bowed to her at the waist and cocked a thin eyebrow. “Good evening. Do you have an invitation?”
    “I’m with Connor,” she said with what she hoped was a confident smile.
    The butler frowned slightly. “I see. Will you wait here for a moment, miss?”
    She shifted impatiently on the too-high heels as she waited for the butler’s return, presumably with Connor, or at least his okay to let her in. There was a slight chill in the early May air, and she wished she had taken time to grab a shrug on her way out. She’d skipped it because she didn’t really have anything dressy to match this kind of party, but now she regretted not taking anything, even if it had stood out amid the glitterati.
    Fortunately, the butler opened the door for her a moment later, allowing her to walk inside. “Thank you for allowing me entry,” she said with only the slightest hint of irony as she stepped into the opulent home.
    She had barely felt the breeze of the door closing behind her before Connor appeared, putting his arm around her waist to draw her close to him. She stiffened at the familiar touch, trying to pull away. “Let go of me,” she hissed at him.
    “Play along, and I’ll pay you triple your annual salary, and I’ll cover the taxes. I’ll give it to you in cash tonight, after this party.” He had whispered the words in her ear in what probably appeared to be a tender gesture from anyone observing them.
    She quickly realized someone was definitely observing them as she looked around him to see an older man who bore a striking resemblance to Connor, flanked by a pale woman. With her silvery blonde hair, ivory complexion, and large silver eyes, she should have been an ethereal beauty. She probably would have been if she hadn’t been giving Angelina the stink-eye. As soon as the other woman realized she was looking at her, the expression changed to one of welcome, though there was no warmth behind the smile.
    Feeling frozen, she sort of shuffled along when Connor stepped back from her, his arm remaining around her waist as he steered her toward the older man and the cold angel beside him.
    “Dad, this is Angelina. She’s my assistant, and I couldn’t live without her.”
    She gasped, and the other woman echoed the sound when he lifted her hand to his mouth to brush his lips against her knuckles. What the hell was Blackwell up to? She glared at him with her eyes, though struggled to find a more pleasant expression when she looked at his father. “How do you do, Mr. Blackwell?”
    The older man gave her an appraising look before nodding. “Call me William.” He turned his gaze back to his son. “She’s definitely not one of your cheap girls that usually hang on you, son. Looks like you did a fine job.”
    “Fine job of what?” she asked, eyes focusing on Connor. From the intensity of her gaze, she would bet he felt like a bug pinned to the wall at that moment.
    “Selecting a fiancée,” said William before Connor could reply.
    She actually dropped her evening bag in her shock as she turned to look at the older man. “What?” she asked in almost a screeching tone. “I’m not his fiancée.”
    Suddenly, before she could say anything more, Connor had pulled her into his