THE LOST VALENTINE

CHAPTER 3

Olivia's POV

The color drained from Marcus's face. "Fiancée?"

I opened my mouth to correct Harvey, to explain that this was insane and we barely knew each other and definitely were not engaged.

His hand tightened on my waist. A warning.

"Yes," Harvey said, his voice cold enough to frost glass. "Is that a problem, Williams?"

Marcus looked between us, his confusion shifting into something uglier. "You can't be serious. Olivia? You're marrying Olivia Morgan?"

The way he said my name. Like it was something dirty.

"Is there a reason I shouldn't?" Harvey's tone could have cut steel.

"She's nobody. A secretary at her aunt's flower shop. She doesn't belong in your world." Marcus laughed, but it sounded nervous. "This is some kind of joke, right?"

"Does she look like a joke to you?" Harvey pulled me closer, and I felt his muscles tense beneath his expensive suit. "Because from where I'm standing, she looks like the woman I'm going to marry. The woman who's going to be my wife. And if you have a problem with that, you can clean out your desk."

The threat hung in the air. Marcus's face went from pale to red.

"I didn't mean any disrespect. I'm just surprised. Congratulations." He spit the word out like poison. "When's the happy day?"

"We haven't set a date yet," I said, finding my voice. If we were doing this, if Harvey wanted to play this game, I wasn't going to stand here silent while Marcus insulted me. "We wanted to keep it private for a while. But I guess the secret's out now."

Marcus's eyes narrowed. "How long have you two been together? Because I saw you six weeks ago and you were definitely not engaged to anyone."

"Things change," Harvey said. "People change. Some people find someone worth their time. Others settle for cheap substitutes. Now get out of my office. And Williams? The Henderson numbers better be fixed by end of day or you're fired."

Marcus fled.

The door clicked shut behind him, and Harvey released me immediately. He walked back to his desk, putting distance between us.

"What the hell was that?" I demanded. "Fiancée? Are you insane?"

"Probably." He loosened his tie and sat down. "But it solves both our problems."

"I don't have a problem that requires a fake engagement."

"Don't you?" He leaned back in his chair, studying me. "You're pregnant and broke. Your ex just saw you in my office. By tomorrow, everyone you know will hear about this. You think he's going to stay quiet?"

My stomach dropped. He was right. Marcus would tell Sienna. Sienna would tell everyone else. The girl who got dumped at her engagement party was now supposedly engaged to a billionaire? They'd rip me apart.

"And you?" I asked. "What problem does this solve for you?"

"My mother has been trying to marry me off for five years. Every charity event, every business dinner, she shows up with a new candidate. All of them vetted. All of them suitable. All of them boring as hell." He stood and walked to the window. "But if I'm already engaged, she'll back off."

"For how long?"

"Six months. Maybe a year. Long enough for you to have the baby. Long enough for me to close some deals without her interference."

"And then what? We just break up?"

"Clean and simple. I'll make sure you're taken care of. Money. A place to live. Whatever you and the baby need."

It was crazy. Completely insane. Fake relationships didn't work. They always got messy. Someone always caught feelings. Someone always got hurt.

But six months of security. Of not having to worry about rent or food or doctor's bills. Of having health insurance and a safe place to raise my baby.

"There would be rules," I said slowly.

"Of course."

"No one can know it's fake. Not your family. Not mine. Not anyone."

"Agreed."

"We maintain separate bedrooms. This is business. Nothing personal."

Something flickered in his eyes. "If that's what you want."

"It is."

"Fine. Separate bedrooms. Purely professional." He came closer. "Except when we're in public. Then you're my adoring fiancée. Can you handle that?"

The way he said it. The challenge in his voice. Like he didn't think I could pull it off.

I lifted my chin. "Can you?"

His smile was slow and dangerous. "Baby, I'm a much better actor than you think."

"Don't call me baby."

"What should I call you? Darling? Sweetheart? Love of my life?"

"Olivia is fine."

"Too formal for a couple in love." He circled me slowly. "We need to make this believable. That means pet names. Public affection. Selling the fantasy."

"I can handle public affection."

"Can you?" He stopped behind me, close enough that I felt his breath on my neck. "Because you're trembling right now. And I'm barely touching you."

I was. My whole body shook with awareness. This was a bad idea. A terrible idea.

"That's anger," I lied.

"Sure it is." His fingers brushed my shoulder, and I gasped. "We need to get our story straight. How we met. When I proposed. All the details people will ask about."

"We met at a charity event," I said, trying to focus. "Three months ago. You spilled champagne on my dress. We talked all night. You asked for my number."

"Romantic. I like it." His hand slid down my arm. "And the proposal?"

"Last week. You took me to the Pearson Hotel. The penthouse suite. You got down on one knee."

"Close to the truth." His voice dropped lower. "Except I didn't get on my knee. And there was definitely no proposal."

Heat flooded my cheeks. "We're changing the story."

"Shame. I liked the real version better."

I turned to face him, needing to see his eyes. "Why are you really doing this? There has to be more to it than just getting your mother off your back."

He studied me for a long moment. "You want the truth?"

"Yes."

"Because you're the first real thing I've encountered in years. Everyone in my world wants something. Money. Status. Connections. But you? You didn't even know who I was that night. You just wanted to forget. To feel something." His thumb brushed my cheek. "I liked that. I liked you."

My breath caught. This was dangerous territory. We were supposed to keep this professional. Business only.

"Harvey."

"Don't worry. I'm not going to fall in love with you." He stepped back, breaking the spell. "I don't do love. But I do appreciate honesty. And you're honest. Even when you're lying about being qualified for this job."

"I could do the job," I protested.

"Maybe. We'll find out." He returned to his desk and pulled out a contract. "This is a standard employment agreement. You'll work as my executive assistant. Salary is two hundred thousand a year. Benefits included. Plus a separate agreement for our arrangement."

Two hundred thousand. My knees went weak.

"That's too much."

"It's standard for my assistant. You'll earn every penny. I'm not an easy boss." He slid another document across the desk. "This is the engagement contract. It outlines our terms. Duration. Financial arrangements. Custody details for the baby. Read it carefully. Take it to a lawyer if you want. Sign it when you're ready."

I picked up the papers with shaking hands. This was real. He was serious.

"What if I say no?"

"Then you walk out that door and we never speak of this again. I'll send you a check for child support. We'll work out visitation when the baby's born. You'll never see me again except when absolutely necessary."

The thought made my chest tight. Which was stupid. I barely knew this man.

"And if I say yes?"

His eyes darkened. "Then you're mine for the next year. In public, anyway. My fiancée. The future Mrs. Pearson. And anyone who tries to hurt you will answer to me."

The intensity in his voice sent shivers down my spine.

"I need time to think about this."

"You have twenty four hours. After that, the offer expires." He checked his watch. "Now, I have a meeting. Rebecca will set you up with temporary access. Start reviewing my calendar. Learning my schedule. If you take the job, you start Monday."

"And the other thing?"

"Read the contract. We'll discuss details if you sign."

He walked to the door and opened it. Dismissed. Just like that.

I gathered the papers and my purse. Stopped at the threshold.

"Harvey?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. For the offer. For not throwing me out when you saw it was me."

His expression softened slightly. "I told you. You're extraordinary. I meant it."

Then his phone rang and he was back to business, and I was walking out of his office with two contracts that could change my entire life.

Rebecca the receptionist gave me a key card and a visitor badge. Explained the building security. Handed me a packet of information about company policies.

I was in the elevator heading down when my phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

I answered without thinking. "Hello?"

"Olivia Morgan?" A woman's voice. Cultured. Elegant.

"Yes?"

"My name is Catherine Valentine. I believe we need to discuss your inheritance."

The elevator doors opened on the ground floor, and I stepped out into the lobby in a daze.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Your parents. Richard and Eleanor Morgan. They didn't die in a car accident like you were told. They were murdered. And you, my dear, are the sole heir to the Valentine fortune. All fifteen billion dollars of it."