THE BILLONAIRE UNWANTED WIFE

The first time Damian Blackwood looked at me, I knew he hated me. Not disliked. Not found me irritating. Hated. His eyes moved over me slowly, from my cheap black flats to the sleeves of the dress I'd borrowed from my cousin. Then they stopped at my face. There was something cold in his expression. Something almost insulting. I straightened my back. "If you're done judging me, Mr. Blackwood, I'd like to know why you asked me to come here." He leaned back in his chair. The office was enormous. Glass walls. Dark wood. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Everything about the room screamed money. Everything about him screamed power. Damian Blackwood was thirty-two, the youngest billionaire in the country, and the man whose name appeared in business magazines almost as often as it appeared in gossip columns. Women wanted him. Men feared him. And apparently, I was supposed to marry him. "I'll make this simple," he said. His voice was deep. Annoyingly calm. "You will marry me." I stared at him. Then I laughed. I couldn't help it. It was either laugh or cry. "I'm sorry." "I didn't stutter." "No, I heard you." "Then why are you laughing?" "Because you're insane." For the first time, something flickered across his face. Surprise. I almost smiled. At least I had managed to annoy the great Damian Blackwood. He opened a folder and pushed it across the desk. "Your mother's medical bills." My smile disappeared. "The debt on your father's company." My fingers tightened. "Your younger brother's university fees." I stopped breathing. Damian watched me carefully. "You've been trying to solve all three problems at once." I looked down at the documents. Every number was correct. Every detail was correct. My stomach twisted. "How did you get this?" "I have people." "That's not an answer." "It's the only one you're getting." I pushed the folder back. "I still don't understand what any of this has to do with marriage." He looked directly into my eyes. "My grandfather's will." I frowned. "What about it?" "He left me control of Blackwood Holdings under one condition." He paused. "I have to be married before my thirty-third birthday." I stared at him. "And you picked me?" "Yes." "Why?" His expression didn't change. "Because you won't fall in love with me." The words hit harder than they should have. I looked away. There it was. The insult. He didn't think I was beautiful enough. Interesting enough. Important enough. He simply thought I was safe. A woman who wouldn't expect anything from him. A convenient wife. I swallowed my pride. "How long?" "Six months." "And after six months?" "The marriage ends." I looked at him. "That's it?" "You walk away with enough money to clear your family's debts." "And you?" "I get what I want." I should have walked away. Every instinct in me screamed that this was a terrible idea. But then I thought about my mother's hospital room. My brother's tuition. The calls from creditors. The house we were about to lose. I closed my eyes. Six months. I could survive six months. When I opened them again, Damian was still watching me. "Fine." His eyebrow lifted slightly. "Fine?" "I'll marry you." He stood. For the first time, I realized just how tall he was. He walked around the desk and stopped in front of me. Too close. Much too close. I caught the faint scent of his cologne. Something warm. Expensive. Dangerous. He extended his hand. "Pleasure doing business with you, Mrs. Blackwood." I stared at his hand. Then at him. "I haven't agreed to be your real wife." His eyes darkened. "No." He stepped closer. "But the world will think you are." His fingers closed around mine. Warm. Firm. Possessive. And for one stupid second, my heart skipped. I immediately hated myself for it. Dammit. This was going to be a very long six months. I just didn't know yet that six months would be more than enough time for Damian Blackwood to break every rule he'd made. Including his own heart.