Read The Rented Bride (Highland Billionaires Book 1) Online
Authors: KyAnn Waters,Tarah Scott
“He’s not paying the slightest attention to you,” she whispered. “Your place is behind the scenes.”
The invisible girl.
Her job was to make sure the champagne flowed and the plates of hors d'oeuvres remained filled. Most guests now filtered back into the ballroom from the formal dining room where the buffet was being served. They were now enjoying cocktails and dancing. Through it all, Cassie remained keenly aware of Trent, and the shock she’d felt when he’d called her darling. She hazarded a glance in the direction he’d been sitting and released a slow breath when she discovered he’d left that group.
“There you are. Cassie, I’ve been looking for you.”
Cassie spun at the gravelly voice behind her. James Weston stood at the bar, with Annie beside him. Her heart began to pound. “Mr. Weston, you should be resting.”
“I told you to call me Granddad.”
The bartender cast a curious glance her way. By all that was unholy, how was she going to explain this?
“He insisted,” Annie said. “Said he had to be with his granddaughter-in-law.”
The bartender’s gaze snapped onto her, but Cassie forced a smile as her heart thundered, and said, “And that would be me?” Even to her own ears, it sounded more like a question than a statement.
“I told you,” he said to Annie. “Now leave us.” He clasped Cassie’s hand then curled it around the crook of his arm. “Shall we dance?”
Cassie chuckled. “I think we’d both be in trouble. Let’s sit by the fire.” Along the wall opposite the bar, a fire burned in the mammoth stone hearth. Clustered seating encircled the area.
Cassie helped him into a plush loveseat with a low back. He patted the space next to him. “Tell me about you.”
A server walked past with a tray of canapés.
“I thought they were serving dinner,” he said.
“Yes, there’s a buffet in the formal dining room. Lobster tails and sea bass, garlic butter asparagus—”
He smiled broadly. “Perfect. Will you have dinner with me?”
Cassie started. Dinner? She glanced around the room. Where was Trent? He wouldn’t be pleased that his grandfather was out of bed.
James rose, forcing her to follow suit. “Should we find Trent?” How was she supposed to get out of this without weaving more into Trent’s tapestry of lies?
Once again, James tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and started away. “Trent is fine.” He leaned close and whispered, “I know when you’re in love it’s hard to be apart, but you’ll have plenty of time to spend with him later. Do you like Brettonwood, lass?”
She nodded. “What’s not to like? It’s a castle.”
He laughed. “True. I’m glad you like it. After all, it’s your home now.”
“My home?” she blurted.
He gave her a quizzical look as he guided her around a group of people and headed down the hall toward the dining room. “Of course. You’ll be living here.”
“It’s just that I have to get back to Miami for, uh, some upcoming parties we booked.”
A few people filled plates at the buffet. Servers stood behind sterling silver chafing dishes. Mr. Weston stopped at the end of the buffet line.
“I’m amazed my grandson kept you a secret for so long,” James said.
“Yes.” She could agree with that. “But he worries about you. You’re all the family he has.” She tried to remember every word Trent had spoken. She didn’t want to think about the chaos that would ensue—or Trent’s anger—should she mix up details.
“I know he worries,” James said. “And he is all the family I have.”
They reached the table and picked up plates, then filled them. He smiled at her as they settled at one of the many tables draped in fine white linen. “Until now.” He touched her cheek. “Young lass, such a pretty thing. You and Trent will make beautiful babies.”
She choked on a bite of fish. “Babies?”
“Oh, now I know you need time, just the two of you. We can have the ceremony here at Brettonwood. Have you thought of where you’ll go on your honeymoon? It would please me to send you home. A couple weeks in Inverness.”
Cassie nodded. “That would be lovely.”
“We should have the ceremony soon, while we still have snow on the ground.”
“Ceremony?” A woman with short curly black hair kissed Mr. Weston on the cheek. “If Trent sees you, he’s going to be pissed.”
“I’m not drinking, and he can hardly be upset that I’m spending time with my future granddaughter-in-law.”
The woman’s eyes lit with interest. She sat in the chair next to Cassie. “Celina Young. Friend of the family.”
“More like my daughter,” James said, his accent thickening. “Like you,” he said, covering Cassie’s hand.
This was becoming complicated.
Celina’s eyes sparkled. “Well, damn. I knew Trent was up to something.”
“Nothing is really planned,” Cassie murmured. “I mean, we haven’t set a date.”
“Nonsense,” James said. “We have all of our friends here tonight. It would make the perfect birthday wish for this old dying man.”
Celina’s expression sobered. “Don’t talk that way, James.” She looked at Cassie. “After all, you have to get to know your future granddaughter-in-law.” She surprised Cassie by hugging her. “Welcome to the family,” she whispered, then pulled back.
Panic sent Cassie’s heart into a wild rhythm. She had to get away. She wasn’t good at lying and she sure as hell had no experience playing happy girlfriend to a man like Trent Weston. Look how badly she’d botched things up already.
“Excuse me.” She pushed back from the table and shoved to her feet.
“Cassie—” James jumped to his feet, faltered, then stumbled back a pace.
Cassie seized his arm in an effort to steady him. For an instant, she thought they would tumble to the carpet together, but Celina leapt to his side, and Annie appeared beside Cassie. They lowered him into the chair.
Celina met her gaze and said, “Find Trent.”
Cassie nodded and rushed from the room. Sidling between a group of women dressed in evening gowns who were tipsy on fine wine and mixed cocktails, she burst from the hallway into the ballroom. With every man wearing a tux, she thought it would be difficult to see Trent in the crowd. However, she immediately spotted him near the fireplace and their gazes met. Cassie motioned with her hand for him to join her.
His brow furrowed in the instant before he said something to an older woman dressed in a sequined emerald gown, then headed toward Cassie with purposeful strides.
He reached her and said, “What is it?”
“Your grandfather. He’s in the dining room with Annie and Celina.”
“Dammit,” he muttered. “Come on.” He grasped her arm and hurried from the room.
“He found me earlier, asked me to have dinner with him,” Cassie blurted. “I didn’t know how to say no.”
Trent nodded. “Granddad can be persistent.” Trent met her gaze, eyes intense. “Thank you.”
They entered the dining room. Annie sat to James’ left with an arm around him. He coughed, one trembling hand on the table.
Trent rushed across the room and dropped onto one knee beside him. “Granddad.”
His grandfather waved him off. “Don’t reprimand me. I wanted dinner, to visit with Cassie, and now I want my birthday cake and champagne.”
“Champagne—” Trent began, but stopped when Ace rolled a large table into the room. Candles covered the top of a four-tier cake. Blue and white icing in the cross pattern of the Scottish flag surrounded each tier. The Scottish theme had been Cassie’s idea. A second cart followed with filled champagne glasses. Champagne hadn’t been part of her plan.
A tremor rippled through her stomach.
James
.
A bagpiper entered and the pipes blared a rendition of Happy Birthday. Guests in the dining room gathered round. Others drifted in from the ballroom. The final notes rang out and guests applauded. James covered his heart. Someone who didn’t understand the nature of his condition might have taken the gesture as heartfelt appreciation.
Trent pulled him into a hug, whispering something in his ear. James shook his head.
Trent pulled back, his mouth pinched into a tight line, and said, “We are not doing this now.”
Dread simmered in Cassie’s gut. Not doing what now?
James started to rise. Trent jumped up and grasped the older man’s arm as he rose.
“Ace,” James called. “Bring me a glass of that champagne, then pass it around.”
The chef picked up one of the glasses and brought it to him.
“Thank ye, lad,” James said. “And thank you, everyone.” He spoke loudly. “It’s late and my grandson is forcing this old man to bed. But before I go, I want to congratulate him and his future bride, Cassandra Adams. Come here, lass.”
Cassie froze.
“Come along, lass,” he coaxed. “It’s all right.”
She looked at Trent. His eyes pleaded for her to go along with the farce. She forced her legs to move. When she reached James, he pulled her into a bear hug that made her want to cry.
He pulled back, a broad smile across his face. “Welcome to the family, lass.”
The crowd cheered.
“Trent, where is her ring?” James demanded.
“Ring?” Trent repeated.
Cassie’s heart thundered.
“You’ve been planning to make this announcement for three weeks,” James said. “I know you, lad. You have a ring.”
Trent looked at Cassie. She gave her head a single shake. Don’t you dare, she thought.
Time slowed as he reached inside his pocket and withdrew a small, velvet box.
Cassie gasped in unison with another cheer from the crowd when Trent opened the box. The biggest diamond she’d ever seen shimmered in the chandelier light.
Oh god, run,
she ordered her legs, but her feet remained rooted to the carpet.
Trent took the ring from the box and set the box on the table as he grasped her left hand.
“Trent,” she whispered.
He slid the ring onto her finger.
“Kiss her,” someone shouted.
More shouts followed.
“Don’t you dare,” she whispered, but he was already pulling her close.
His mouth covered hers. Her knees weakened, but he hugged her tight, keeping her upright. She jammed her eyes closed. The same cologne she’d detected earlier when he’d fixed her earring filled her nostrils. His hand pressed into the small of her back, Cassie clutched his shoulders.
In the next instant he broke the kiss, pressed his mouth to her ear and whispered. “I promise, I’ll fix this. Just give me some time.”
“Time?” she whispered back. “I’m leaving in the morning.”
He shook his head. “I need you stay on a little longer.”
Trent got his father into bed and left strict instructions for Annie not to let him return to the party. Could tonight get any more chaotic? He needed to find Cassie and explain his actions…and beg for her help.
Despite her petite stature, Cassie wasn’t difficult to spot in the ballroom, standing with Celina near the balcony doors. He paused at the threshold of the ballroom. Cassie smiled at something Celina said, her mannerism refined and feminine. She looked the part, acted the part, but could she play the part? He needed a bride. Maybe he could hire one.
He crossed the room. Cassie gazed in his direction, her blue eyes pleading.
“You’ve been a bad boy,” Celina said as he approached. “Where have you been hiding her?”
“Miami.” He wrapped an arm around Cassie. “I wasn’t ready to share.”
Cassie’s frown turned fierce.
“Darling.”
Her eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.
In for a pound. In for a penny
. He pulled her close, hugging her flush against his side. She stiffened.
“James is clearly ecstatic,” Celina said. “When is the big day?”
Trent thought of his grandfather upstairs. He didn’t have much time. Every day his condition worsened.
“Soon,” was all he could reply.
“Darling,” Cassie said in a slightly mocking tone. “Can we have a moment alone?” She grasped his hand.
“Of course. We’ll see you later, Celina.”
Cassie slipped through the crowd toward the kitchen, but Trent directed her toward the hallway to the left of the hearth. She looked up at him in question.
“There’s a private parlor down the hallway near the door,” he said.
He would rather take her upstairs away from the guests and avoid the room where he’d broken up with Lindsey, but he had serious doubts about how far Cassie would follow him before blowing up. Thankfully, she allowed him to take the lead. The hollow click of her heels against the marble tile as he led her to the parlor began to match the cadence of his hammering heart. They reached the hallway in time to see Tomas slipping his wife’s mink onto her shoulders. Thomas’ eyes flicked to Cassie, then to Trent. He whispered something to his wife, then took three steps toward the parlor door.
“Trent, we’re taking off.” He extended his hand and Trent shook it. “Regarding our earlier discussion, if you need anything, just let me know.”
“That situation has been resolved,” Trent replied.
Tomas nodded. “Call me.” He smiled at Cassie. “And congratulations, Ms. Adams.”
“Thank you,” she said, and squeezed Trent’s hand harder.
Tomas returned to his wife as Trent opened the parlor door. Cassie jerked her hand from his and stormed inside the room. Trent followed, closed the door, and leaned against it.
“I’m sorry,” he said as she took a breath to speak. He knew what was coming. He’d be angry as hell if someone he hadn’t agreed to marry publicly announced his engagement.
***
Cassie spun around. “Sorry doesn’t begin to cover what’s happened.” Her mind whirled with questions. “First you fire me and now you tell everyone we’re getting married?”
She was too pissed to let the sorrow in his eyes—or the way his muscles bunched beneath the starched white shirt as he slipped off his suit coat—distract her.
He glanced to his watch. “Is it really only twelve thirty?”
“Yes. It’s late, the party is over, and I’m going home.” Back to Miami where the crazies didn’t dress in designer tuxes and sport billion-dollar bank accounts.
“Please, sit down.” He indicated the couch, then strode to the sideboard, reached for a glass and decanter, and poured two fingers of amber liquid. “Something to drink?”
She shook her head, then perched on the edge of the sofa and folded her hands in her lap. Her gaze caught on the ring. Cassie swallowed. She’d forgotten the damned ring. She slipped it off. “Why did you let your grandfather tell everyone we are engaged, Mr. Weston?”
He lifted the glass to his lips and swallowed. The slide of his Adam’s apple drew her gaze.
He set the glass on the sideboard. “I won’t bore you with the details.”
“Bore me.”
“I’m in need of a wife.”
“Get a girlfriend, propose to her.” Cassie extended the ring toward him, but he didn’t approach to take it.
“I had a girlfriend, but marriage to her is no longer an option.” He took a deep breath. “Ms. Adams, could I interest you in a temporary position?”
“Work for you?” Cassie allowed her hand to drop into her lap.
He nodded. “As you can see, my grandfather’s health isn’t good. I would do anything to bring joy to his final days.”
“You want me to plan another party?”
He chuckled, but the sound didn’t ring with light-heartedness. “No, he’s had enough excitement. He needs to relax, to know that his legacy is safe.”
“I’m not a nurse.”
“He has a nurse. He needs an heir, a great grandson.”
Cassie shot to her feet. “Whatever you’re thinking, forget it.”
He raised both hands. “You misunderstand. One day I’ll have a wife and children.” He crossed the room and halted in front of her. “I have a different proposal. I’d like you to marry me for the limited time my grandfather has left. I’m prepared to compensate you generously for your time.”
“What?”
“I’ll pay you ten thousand dollars,” he said.
“Ten thousand dollars?” Cassie blurted.
Ten thousand dollars.
Her student loan—she cut off the thought. This was nuts. “Listen, Mr. Weston, ten thousand dollars is a lot of money, but would that be for a day, a week, a month? Please don’t misunderstand. I’m not wishing your grandfather an untimely death. But I don’t think you’ve thought this through. What if he lives another month, a year, two or even three years?”
He flashed a sardonic smile. “Ms. Adams, I didn’t get where I am by not thinking things through. If I had the slightest hope that my grandfather would be here another three years—” He broke off and raked a hand through his hair. “I’ll pay you ten thousand dollars every week you’re my wife.”
Thoughts whirled. Even one month would pay off her student loans. That would put her five years ahead of schedule. Two months would— What was she thinking? She wasn’t going to pay off her student loan at the expense of another human being’s life.
Cassie shook her head. She could always make money. She could only get married the first time once, however, and this man wasn’t her prince charming. “I’ll pass. It’s been—” she couldn’t say
a pleasure
because the night had been a nightmare. “—interesting making your acquaintance.”
“What would it take?” he demanded.
“I can’t be bought.”
“I just want to rent you.”
She laughed. “I’m not for rent.”
A light tap sounded at the door.
“Come in,” he said.
The door opened and Doris stuck her head inside. “It’s James. Annie says to come right away.”
He started forward. “I’ll be right back, Ms. Adams. Please wait.”
“Um, he’s not asking to see you,” Doris said. “He’s asking for Ms. Adams.”
Cassie started. “Me?”
“Yes ma’am.”
God help her.
Trent faced her and looked meaningfully at the hand that held the ring. Damn him, he knew she couldn’t refuse. Cassie started forward and slipped the ring on when she fell in behind Doris as they left. Cassie followed her through the labyrinth of hallways then stairs with Trent close behind. Why was she rushing to James’ side? He wasn’t her grandfather, and the sooner she ended this charade the sooner she could get back to Miami, back to her normal, uncomplicated, debt-filled life.
The door stood ajar. Doris pushed it open and Cassie hurried inside.
She slowed as she approached the bed. Dark circles ringed James’ eyes and his lips and cheeks had lost their color. He blended in with the pale linen pillowcase.
“Cassie, my sweet girl. Did you tell my grandson of our plans?”
Plans? What was he talking about?
Go with it
, girl, she told herself.
Cassie smiled as she halted. “I haven’t had the chance. Trent has been busy making plans of his own.”
Trent approached and rested his hand on her shoulder. “Tell me about these plans.”
“Scotland is beautiful this time of year,” James said. “The perfect place for a honeymoon.”
Her heart lurched. She hadn’t given a second thought to his suggestion that she and Trent honeymoon in Scotland.
“Scotland is cold and windy this time of year,” Trent said gently.
The old man’s eyes twinkled. “Exactly. Perfect for staying in and—”
“Granddad,” Trent admonished. “Cassie and I are too busy for a honeymoon.”
James patted Cassie’s hand. “I suppose I’ll have to be content with the wedding, then.”
“Perhaps you should rest,” she said. “The wedding can wait until you’re feeling better.”
“Promise?” His eyes slid closed for a moment. When he opened them, his gaze met hers. There was such sadness, yet something more.
Cassie didn’t have the heart to say anything except, “I promise.”
Trent gently squeezed her shoulder. “Get some rest, Grandfather.”
He nodded. “In the morning, will you have breakfast with me, Cassie?”
She smiled and nodded. Since her flight didn’t leave until late afternoon, she could spend one last night in Brettonwood.
She turned and Trent’s hand heated her flesh where it rested on her lower back as he escorted her from the room. In the hall, he pulled the door shut, then cupped her elbow and hurried her to the steps, where he stopped.
“Thank you,” he said.
“I’m not going to marry you.”
He chuckled. “You can’t say no to him any more than I can.”
She glanced down the hall at the door. Trent was right. She simply hadn’t been able to break his heart. He looked so frail. How long could he last?
Cassie swallowed. “Even if I did agree, I’m sorry, but you have to know that there’s a chance he won’t be here long enough to see us married. A wedding takes weeks to plan.”
“Anyone that means anything to me or my grandfather was here tonight. We can have a small service tomorrow.”
“You call three hundred people a small service?” she asked.
There was that damn smile again. “A dozen close friends. It has to be believable. Granddad is too wily to be easily fooled.”
She shook her head. “We have no license, and I have no idea what exactly you expect from a…rented wife.”
He grasped her arm and walked several paces before saying, “Nothing more than keeping up appearances. However, I would expect a level of familiarity.”
Cassie halted. “How familiar?” Oh hello, why was she actually negotiating with him? “No.” She shook her head. “This is ridiculous.
“This is strictly business,” he said. “You’ll make some money and I’ll give the only family I have left a little happiness before he dies.”
“It’s crazy,” she said.
“I’m begging you, Cassie. I just can’t tell him tomorrow morning that we’re not getting married.”
She narrowed her eyes. “That’s blackmail, Mr. Weston.”
He nodded. “It is. I admit that I’m not above paying the devil, if I have to.”
“The devil might be cheaper,” she muttered.
“Does that mean you’ll do it?” he asked.
The hope in his voice, the pleading in his eyes, was almost as hard to say no to as was his grandfather. It was crazy. More than crazy. Her family. She didn’t even want to think about what would happen if they got wind of her ‘marriage.’ But ten thousand dollars a week? Ten. Thousand. Dollars. A. Week. Strictly business. A way for her to get out of debt. She could give Maryanne some of the money she owed as a partner buy-in. And, just as important, she would give James some genuine happiness in his final days. That was no small miracle.
Cassie nodded. “Okay, but in addition to the marriage license, I’ll expect a contract.”
“I’ll have my attorney draft the proposal tonight.”
She couldn’t believe it. The first marriage proposal she’d ever received was a business deal. It was certainly memorable.
Trent pulled her into a hug.
Her body molded flush against his and Cassie started at the press of her breasts against his chest. “Hey.” She pushed away. “On paper only.”
He stepped back. “And in appearance. Our affection must appear believable.”
“How do you propose we do that?” She hoped like hell the heat in her cheeks wasn’t causing a blush. “Maybe we should define just how much affection will be required.”
He stepped toward her and she retreated until her back bumped the wall. His breath, tinted with a hint of scotch, warmed her face. “Something along these lines, I would imagine,” he said.
Her heart began to pound.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Cassie, but I’m interested in nothing more than giving my grandfather peace as he reaches the end of his life. However, I want him to believe we’re in love. You will have to endure my touch.”