The Millionaire's Christmas Wife

“Yep.”

“Why Hilda?”

“It means ready for battle. Hilda Harley is her whole name. She’s a full pedigree. So, should I call you Denise or Deni?”

“Probably Denise, if you don’t want people to guess who I am. They sound like completely different names, don’t you think? Denise is pretty old-fashioned sounding.”

“I don’t know. I’m thinking it might be helpful for people to know who you are.”

She frowned at him. “You must not remember the reputation I had.”

“Was it deserved?”

“Not to the degree it was put out there.”

“People have an impression of who I am, too,” he said, “based on the work I do, as if I wouldn’t be responsible or reliable. I’m responsible for life and limb while my clients are with me. I take that seriously.”

“So then, that’s even more reason to keep my identity a secret. If they got the impression they were working with two flighty people, there’d be no chance of success.” She was aware of him beside her. Aware of his height, his ability to stay focused, his muscular frame, his strong hands. David’s wife had told her about him. How David and Noah went to Gideon for advice, that nothing seemed to faze him. How the brothers all had different mothers but were raised together, their father getting sole custody of each of them. There was a story there, something to ask another time, when they knew each other better.

“You’re quiet,” he said as they waited at a signal.

“You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

“Good.”

They crossed the street, were only a block from her high-rise condo complex. “What happens if you don’t get the backing, Gideon?”

“I keep doing what I’ve been doing for all these years. Maybe I’ll find another location and try again. I don’t think in negative terms. I believe this is going to work, one way or another. And I like challenges.”

“Why don’t you go ahead and buy the land, since you have the money for it, then take the time to get a partner?”

“Because if I can’t build the rest of it to create the whole package, I would never have enough of a business to do more than the Bakers have—which pays the bills, but that’s all. I can’t commit to it without knowing there’s a payoff for me.”

“And seeming to be married, even though it’s a lie, is critical to your success.”

“Without question.”

“But no pressure, right?” she asked with a smile.

“Of course not.”

They reached her building. “Would you like to come up?” The invitation came spontaneously, not a conscious decision but an emotional one. If she’d taken a moment to think about it—

“Thanks. I think I should hit the road. Beat the rain.” He looked up. “What floor are you on?”

She was glad he’d turned her down, wasn’t ready for him to be in her space. “Lucky thirteen. The view’s amazing. Plus there’s underground parking, a swimming pool, a library and a fitness room. The amenities are great.”

“I have all that, too. You’ll see tomorrow.” He passed her the tube with the plans rolled up inside.

“I’ll be at your place by nine,” she said.

“Come hungry. I’ll fix you breakfast.”

He cooks, too? “Okay.”

“In the meantime…” He dug into his jacket pocket, pulled out a jeweler’s box and opened it. Inside was a platinum-and-three-diamonds wedding band. “You’ll need to wear this tomorrow.”

The ring was stunning. Her first instinct was to try it on. She curled her hands into fists instead. “Pretty sure of yourself, Gideon.”

He shrugged slightly. “I knew if you were any kind of businesswoman you’d want to see the site in person. You would be there as my wife.”

“I haven’t given you my answer yet. What if you show up with a different ‘wife’ later?”

“You’ve decided.”

His confidence irked her—and pleased her. She liked that he had that much sense of himself.

He plucked the ring from the box and held it up. “Want to see if it fits?”

She held out her hand. The ring seemed on fire, as if chiding her for telling a lie by pretending to be married. “It’s fine,” she said, then tugged it off immediately and handed it back to him. “Did you get one for yourself?”

“I did. It’s plain.” Instead of tucking the ring back in the box, he pulled out a tissue-wrapped packet that contained a long silver chain. He slipped her ring onto it, lifted it over her head and let it dip inside her blouse.

She felt it slide into her cleavage, then nestle.

“For when you’re not playing the part,” he said.

Her mind went blank as he turned her around.

“Thank you for doing this,” he said, and then he kissed her, a soft, electric brush of his lips against hers. “See why I can’t come up?”

“It takes two to tango.”

“Yes, and we’ve both got the moves.” He gave her a knowing look. “I’ll see you in the morning, Mrs. Falcon.”

She laughed but made no move to go into the building. She didn’t want the evening to end. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt that way, and this hadn’t even been a date.

Well…actually, it had been considerably more than a date. She’d just sort of gotten married.

“I can’t leave until you’re safely indoors,” he said, interrupting her thoughts.

It would be useless to tell him she came and went from this building every day without incident, so she went inside. He lifted a hand to her, then took off, his stride long and easy. She watched until he was out of sight. In her condo a few minutes later she stared at her phone. She’d almost asked him to call when he got home so that she knew he made it okay, before the rain. He would’ve laughed at her.

So instead she waited a little over an hour, then dialed his number.

He picked up on the first ring. “Safe and sound. And dry,” he said instead of hello.

She hesitated. She really needed to remember how intuitive he was, that he would’ve seen in her eyes that she was worried about him riding Hilda in the rain. “That’s not why I called.”