The Academic Bride: Billionaire Marriage Brokers Book One Read online

  He looked forward to having Janel move in. Their first meeting went well; perhaps a little too well, as he found himself attracted to her in a way he hadn’t planned on. He supposed that’s where the disappointment came in. He couldn’t pursue her romantically—well, technically he could, but they’d just met and she wasn’t expecting to be swept off her feet. But with a woman so lovely sleeping less than a hundred feet away, not pursuing her was going to be difficult.

  It was for the best though. His heart was tired, worn out from falling for women who only saw him as a notch on their designer belts. They played games.

  Nick rubbed his eyes. Was he playing a game? He’d had his moments of doubt, wondering if this would really work out or if he’d end up feeling trampled on by the end of the year. He hoped not. As Nick had learned when he’d started his business, sometimes hope was all you had to go on.

  Chapter 8

  Janel woke Monday morning to someone banging on her apartment door. She glanced at the clock and groaned. She’d overslept. Who oversleeps on their wedding day?

  She pushed the sheets back and reached for her robe. Wrapping her robe around her shoulders and tying it with a jerk, she opened the door just as Trish was about to unleash one of the overly muscular movers to break it down.

  Trish walked in, took one look at Janel, and began issuing orders. Her hyper yet controlled energy filled the space and set Janel on edge. “You have seven minutes to shower.”

  Janel ran to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. After their shopping trip together, she knew that when Trish said seven minutes, she meant seven minutes. The woman was a human stopwatch.

  Trish gave instructions to the crew. Thankfully Janel had packed her wedding suit, shoes, and accessories in a garment bag last night, and hung the bag on the back of the bathroom door.

  “Two minutes!” Trish called through the door. Janel rinsed the face wash off and jumped out.

  “Here.” Trish cracked the door and shoved her arm through. She held out a clean set of panties and a bra. Janel muttered her thanks and made sure the door was firmly shut before letting her towel drop to the floor.

  Two seconds later, as Janel tried to shimmy into the panties while her legs were still wet, Trish’s arm appeared with a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt. “One minute.”

  Janel was certain that meant whether she had the clothes on or not.

  They were five minutes late to her appointment and Clair was in a tizzy.

  “Did you moisturize this morning?”

  Trish folded her arms. “She overslept.”

  “I used that special face cleaner stuff you gave me.” Janel felt the need to defend herself. This was her wedding day. Yeah, she wanted to look good, but wasn’t sleep important? “At least, I won’t have bags under my eyes.”

  Clair gave her hair an extra tug as she squeezed out the excess water from her super quick shampoo, but didn’t say anything else about being late.

  Janel worked to calm her racing heart. This was her wedding day, and she had no idea how she was supposed to feel. The idea that she didn’t know how to be a wife had her fingers drumming every surface they could find. Did the other brides have training?

  Trish walked by as her brows were being shaped, did a double take, and pressed Janel’s hand flat against the seat. “No cold feet now,” she said with a reassuring smile.

  Janel felt the tears build and it had nothing to do with losing a few eyebrows. “I feel so unprepared.”

  “I understand this has all happened for you at light speed. It’s not usually like this. I promise you, I’m not going to drop you at the wedding and run. I’ll be there to train you as the week goes on. Okay?”

  Janel flipped over her hand and gave Trish’s a light squeeze. It was just a job. “Okay.”

  “Are you going to make it through this? You look a little pale.”

  Guatemala. Guatemala. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll find you some juice. You probably need a little sugar.”

  “Thanks.”

  After being filed, buffed, blow-dried, and waxed, Janel was ushered into a changing room, where everything she needed to get dressed was laid out. Trish must have unpacked her bag.

  She hurried through the process, barely checking to make sure her button-up blouse was tucked in before throwing on the jacket. She blew out of the changing room and stopped short, as everyone in the salon had gathered to see her finished look. Tugging at her jacket sleeve, she asked, “How do I look?”

  Trish walked over and took her hand. Gone was the harried drill sergeant. Instead, Trish moved with deliberate steps to the long mirror on the far wall, taking Janel with her.

  Janel hardly dared to look up, but when she did, she smiled. Her hair and makeup were stunning: not too much volume, but enough to consider the curls romantic, and not enough makeup to draw attention, but enough to enhance her eyes and fill out her lips. The jacket fit perfectly, accentuating her trim waistline. The suit had come in black pinstripe, cream, or purple. She’d decided on the purple, because the black looked too much like something you’d see in a boardroom, and the cream looked too much like what a bride would wear. The purple was a nice combination of both—just like her marriage.

  Clair appeared beside her and pulled a few curls over her shoulders to frame her face.

  Janel hugged her. “Thank you.”

  The ladies clapped and giggled as Trish ushered her out the door.

  Before she knew it, Janel was walking into Pamela’s office to get married, and Nick was looking at her like she was the only person in the room. Her butterflies from earlier returned, times ten. She felt her face flush and thought that if anything, Trish would be happy that she wasn’t pale-faced anymore.

  ***

  Nick couldn’t breathe. The moment Janel walked in, looking as beautiful as any woman he’d ever seen, he lost the ability to pull air in through his lungs. He blinked, hoping to clear his head and restart his operating system. Harrison nudged his arm, and Nick looked down to stare at the flowers in his hand rather than his fiancée.

  The flowers!

  He crossed the room to intercept Janel to have a second with her before the justice of the peace started.

  He had to clear his throat to find his voice. “I know this isn’t a traditional wedding, but it’s traditional for the groom to buy the flowers.” He held out the bouquet of white lilies. “I thought you might like a bouquet.”

  Janel took the flowers and closed her eyes as she breathed in their intoxicating scent. She looked up from lowered lashes. “Thank you. They’re perfect.”

  That moment, that one little moment, was worth the hours he’d spent last night tossing and turning, debating if he should give them to her or not. His heart beat wildly in his chest. He was on the verge of marrying this beautiful woman, and he was shocked to realize he felt happy about it, really happy. He hadn’t expected the amount of anticipation that raced through him.

  “We’re ready.” Pamela waved everyone closer as the officiator, dressed in a bad brown suit and sporting a comb-over, took his place in front of the desk.

  Nick offered his arm to Janel, who only hesitated a second before slipping her hand over it. He led her to the front, with Trish on her left and Harrison on his right acting as official witnesses, ring bearers, and maid of honor and best man

  Even with the ring exchange, the ceremony took less than five minutes.

  The justice of the peace refrained from the traditional you-may-kiss-the-bride line. Nick reeled from being pronounced a husband as Harrison shook his hand and congratulated him. Trish hugged them both, and soon they were standing in front of the receptionist’s desk getting their picture taken. He was sure that once the photos were delivered, he’d look like a man who had a cold glass of water dumped on his head.

  Pamela congratulated them one last time and then headed back to her office. Harrison slapped him on the back, and soon they were left with Trish, who hugged Janel again.

&n
bsp; “Take today and get settled in. I’ll be over bright and early to help you get oriented.”

  “Thanks.”

  Trish tucked them in the elevator and gave them a wave as the door closed, leaving them truly alone for the first time.

  Though Nick had looked forward to taking Janel home and seeing her settled in her new room, he suddenly felt nervous about the whole thing. What if she hated it? He didn’t know if it was her style ... Really, he didn’t know anything about her. He should have waited for her to pick things out instead of rushing forward. This all happened so fast, as in five-minute-marriage-ceremony fast, and he wanted to slow things down.

  “Would you like to stop for lunch?” he asked.

  “Sure.” Janel played with one of the leaves in the bouquet. Her eyes weren’t focused on anything in the elevator.

  “Penny for your thoughts?”

  Janel’s head snapped up, “I’m not having second thoughts.”

  “Wait, what?” His hand went out to her elbow, but he didn’t make contact. “You’re having second thoughts?”

  “No.” Janel adjusted her glasses and looked at the floor, where Nick was sure his heart had fallen. “It just hit me. We’re married.”

  Nick waited.

  “Married,” she said again as if he hadn’t heard her. Or, perhaps, she hadn’t processed it yet, like when a computer is loading a web page real slow, so the user clicks on the link a couple times hoping to hurry it along.

  “I know.” He pointed at his ring.

  She looked down at the wedding set on her left hand, looking every bit the woman admiring the ring that represented her matrimonial hopes. But instead of having a bright, happy face, she looked concerned.

  Taking a deep breath, she shook out her hand, threw back her shoulders, and gave him an honest smile. “Sorry. I feel like I’ve been on a high speed train since I woke up. I don’t think I even ate breakfast.”

  The elevator doors opened to the lobby. As they made their way through the lunch crowd, Nick wondered if she was too nervous to eat this morning. Perhaps she was more upset about the changes taking place than he realized. After all, she was the one who had to move. He handed his ticket to the valet and asked, “Why didn’t you have breakfast?”

  “I overslept.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. So much for nerves. He’d probably worried more over the flowers than she worried about moving.

  “It’s not funny. Trish almost broke my door down, and Erica about pulled my hair out for being late to the salon. I didn’t dare mention food for fear of what the makeup artist would do.”

  The valet arrived with his car, and another valet opened Janel’s door while Nick handed off a tip.

  As they slipped on their seatbelts, Nick took a moment to appreciate her long legs in the pencil skirt and the way her curls fell across her shoulders.

  She caught him looking and asked, “What?”

  As he shifted the car in gear, he threw caution to the wind. He caught and held her gaze. “For the record, skipping breakfast was worth it.”

  Her cheeks flushed as she ducked her head and tucked her hair behind her ear.

  Nick pulled into traffic and thought, That blush was worth it, too.

  Chapter 9

  Lunch went by too quickly as Janel and Nick traded brief life stories. The more Janel learned about Nick, the more she respected his position in life.

  After college, he’d started his computer business while working nights to pay the bills. He struggled for a few years before he finally had an idea that took off in a big way. He used the new cash flow to hire good employees and grow the business. Now, he spent most of his time making contacts and managing departments.

  As they pulled into his long driveway, Janel’s hand flew to her chest. The house was huge! Easily as big as the whole apartment building that housed her studio rental.

  Nick parked out front and came around to open her door. “Normally, I’d pull into the garage, but who wants to start a tour with the mudroom?”

  If the house was this impressive, Janel could only imagine how beautiful the mudroom would be. She would’ve loved to start there, especially if the mudroom led to a kitchen. She’d been cooking over a hot plate for two years, and the idea of having an oven thrilled her.

  Nick typed in a security code and opened the door. “I gave you a code already. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “What is it?”

  Nick gave her a small smile. “It’s today’s date.”

  He picked their wedding date as her code. It was sweet. Inside, Janel wanted to melt like one of those women starring in a romantic comedy. On the outside, she gave him a small smile and said, “That should make it easy to remember.”

  Janel walked into the center of the entryway and spun in a slow circle. Two stories above their heads hung an amazing chandelier with dozens of lights. Off to the right was a library, and to the left was an office. Both rooms used dark wood for the shelves and furniture, and both had wood floors covered in beautiful Persian rugs, as well as overstuffed furniture that Janel knew she’d be comfortable in for hours on end. The office had a desk with lion’s paws and a computer. There were wall sconces, can lights, and small lamps here and there. The rooms could be bright and welcoming or low-lit and intimate.

  Surrounded by so much wealth and quality, Janel wondered how impressed she was supposed to act. She’d told him over lunch that she grew up middle-class, and suddenly she felt self-conscious for reasons she couldn’t put her finger on – and she’d only been in the entryway. She decided there was no harm in complimenting him on his home, as she could see by the hopeful expression in his eyes that he wanted her to like it.

  “Do you spend much time in here?” She pointed to the library.

  “Not as much as I’d like. I usually end up spending my time in there.” He pointed to the office as his cell phone rang. “Speaking of work, can you hang on just a minute?”

  “Sure.”

  Janel wandered into the library to browse through the books while Nick rushed into the office and opened the laptop. She ran her fingers along the spines, testing the textures of the old covers against her skin. Many titles were classics, though she found a few mysteries and one or two history books as well. With the rooms open across the hallway, she caught snippets of Nick’s conversation, though she tried not to listen in.

  “Can you put them off? No, don’t tell them. I’ll take care of it.”

  A large book on the coffee table caught her eye. She knelt on the soft rug and lifted the cover to find a stunning photograph of an ancient Mayan temple. Flipping through pages full of breathtaking images, she felt a thrill of excitement. In less than a year, she would be standing at the top of a temple much like the one on the page.

  “Find anything you like?” Nick asked as he entered the room.

  “These photos are amazing.”

  He stood near her, and she tipped her head back to look at him. “Have you looked through here?” she asked.

  “I haven’t had a chance. It just got here this morning.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He squatted next to her. “Your bio said your dissertation was on the Mayan pyramids. I wanted to see what you were interested in, so I ordered it Friday. When it arrived, I didn’t have time to do much more than unwrap it and set it here.”

  Janel was stunned. She couldn’t think of the appropriate thing to say. No one had ever made an effort to understand her work before. Her parents were supportive and would listen when she was excited about something, but they never went out of their way to learn more about her chosen field of specialization. The few boyfriends she’d had were caught up in their own studies. She looked back down at the book and hoped he didn’t see the moisture in her eyes. It was just a book, but it meant more than that.

  “I’m touched. Thank you.”

  It was quiet for a moment. Then Nick’s phone chirped. He glanced down and sighed. “I hate to do this, but I have an
important client who insists on meeting with me this afternoon. Will you be okay if I head to the office for a while?”

  Janel blinked. She didn’t think much about what would happen after the marriage, but she kind of planned on them spending the day together. Plus, he hadn’t finished giving the tour. She didn’t even know where the bathroom was. As far as jobs went, the orientation was sorely lacking. Of course, if she was going to make this work, she’d have to fly solo eventually. “I’ll be fine.”

  Nick held out his hand to help her off the floor. When she stood up, she felt a slight squeeze, and he didn’t let go right away. Nick was like an electric blanket, she realized: every time she touched him, warmth spread through her body.

  “There’s one thing I have to show you before I go.” It was only when he went to move that he noticed he was still holding her hand. He dropped it like a kid caught stealing a cookie, and motioned for her to follow him. Walking up the circular grand staircase to the loft on the second floor, Janel did her best not to peek or gawk at the home.

  “This is the private living area. I rope off the staircase when I throw a party. No one but you and I, and the maids, will come up here.”

  The balcony at the top overlooked the gathering room. It reminded Janel of the books she read about old English parties and children allowed to spy from the top of the stairs as guests entered the home. From this high, she could see everything that went on in the large room below. Several sets of couches or chairs divided the room into different zones, which no doubt made it easy for people to gather in small groups and mingle. A black grand piano stood in one corner.

  “Do you play?” she asked.

  “No. I hire a pianist when needed.”

  Of course you do.

  “This way.”