How To Wed A Billionaire (Book Two): How To Wed A Billionaire, #2

By Layla Valentine

This is the second book in the How To Wed A Billionaire series.

 

He's the kind of guy every gal dreams about…
Devilishly gorgeous, irresistibly charming, outrageously rich, and up to now, unattainable.
So how do you wed a billionaire?
Especially one you've only just met?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Layla Valentine
• Release date: Apr 26, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201225889

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

"D on’t even." Hand on my hip, I stare him down.

What? Aaron folds his arms, lips drawing into a tight line. I merely addressed you appropriately. You are indeed my wife, and I’m your husband.

Distaste drips from his words.

Even though I’m of the same feeling, I’m also offended. I have every right to be annoyed at having to share the same space with Aaron, but what have I ever done to him?

Look, I hiss. I’m not exactly thrilled to be here either, but that doesn’t mean we have to make it any worse than it already is.

I wasn’t the one giving stink eye during the ceremony.

That makes me gasp. I wasn’t giving stink eye!

Aaron guffaws. Sure. Whatever you say.

I…you… Hands balled into fists, I press them tight against my sides. You ruined my audition!

His eyebrows shoot up. A smirk lifts his lips. How did I ruin an audition when you got the job? It seems it’s the other way around. I helped you make it here today.

You made…you… Again, I’m too angry to even finish a full sentence. I keep strangling on my words.

What really perplexes me is the match. Fingers pressed to his chin, Aaron paces the foyer. You and I, we’re clearly…

He stops pacing to wave a hand at me. Disappointment commands his face.

I guess you can’t trust technology for everything, I grumble. Obviously, the app doesn’t work.

His eyebrows knit together. Every system has its flaws. Just because we’re not a match doesn’t mean the app is trash.

Whatever. All we have to do is get through two weeks. It can’t be that hard. At least this house has plenty of space.

Everything I’m saying is done in an attempt to cheer myself up. If I look at the positive side, things aren’t that bad. They’re good, even.

I’m still on a show that’s going to bring me exposure. It’s a great career move, and there’s some money at the end of it.

I don’t want to pretend for the cameras, Aaron says.

You have to be kidding me.

He spreads his palm. What would I joke for?

Why on earth would you not want this to be as easy as possible?

Easy is good, he says, but why lie?

It’s reality TV, I snarl. No one cares. Think of it as acting.

He makes a grumpy face, but I’m done. Turning on my heel, I walk through the closest doorway. It takes me through a massive living room with a fireplace big enough to camp out in and into an equally large kitchen.

Aaron’s footsteps sound behind me, but I don’t acknowledge his presence in any way. Instead, I walk through the second door off the kitchen and into a dining room.

This affords a breathtaking view of the backyard and beach. Next to the pool, there’s a fire pit and a patch of grass with a hammock strung between two trees. A door in the wooden fence leads right to the sand.

It’s literally a dream home.

I wonder who owns this, I say, before remembering that I don’t want to be talking to Aaron at all.

He joins me at the sliding glass door and looks out at the view. It’s decent.

That makes my eyes roll. Sorry that it’s not up to your standards, your highness.

What’s up with this guy? I’m just as unhappy as he is to be paired together, but isn’t there anything about this experience that brings him joy?

There’s a loud knock on the front door.

That must be our cars, I say, relieved to have an excuse to walk away.

Luzia is at the front door along with a guy in a ball cap, who must be another production assistant.

"Wow, this is the right place," she says, first thing.

Edging forward, she looks past me and into the foyer.

It’s gorgeous, she whispers.

Yeah. Too bad it comes with some bad spirits.

Huh?

Never mind. I point at the keys in her hand. Are those for me?

Oh. Yeah. She hands my keys over. Eddie, she says to the other PA.

Huh? His back is to us. He’s inspecting Aaron’s sports car, the top of which is down. Past it, a third car idles, a driver behind its wheel.

The keys, Luzia sighs.

Oh. Right. He passes Aaron’s keys to me as well. That was a sweet ride.

What’s in the house? Luzia asks me. Is there a hot tub spa?

Uh, I don’t know. All I’ve seen so far is the kitchen and the dining room. There is a pool, though.

Lucky. She sighs in envy.

Thanks for bringing the cars, I tell them, my own hungry gaze turned on my vehicle.

Think of the paycheck. Think of the exposure.

If I only keep reminding myself of why I’m doing this, everything will be okay. I’ll make it through the next fourteen days.

Where’s Aaron? Luzia asks.

I shrug. Beats me.

She chews on her bottom lip. Maybe he’s changing. Should I come in and—

Damn, Luzia, Eddie groans. Thirsty, much?

What? she cries. I was going to suggest I do a security check.

Since when are you in security?

This place is nice, she protests. It’s, like, a prime target for burglaries!

Whatever. He shakes his head.

Thanks again, guys, I say. With a wave, I close the door and lock it.

Sighing, I lean my back against the wall. It’s not even close to sunset, and I’m already exhausted. This day has wrung more emotion from me than I ever thought I could excrete.

Who was it?

Aaron stops in the entrance to the foyer.

Our keys. I toss his to him, purposefully aiming off to the side.

He surprises me by still catching the keys.

Pocketing mine, I grab my suitcase and haul it up the stairs.

Where are you going? Aaron calls after me.

Why do you need to know? I call back down.

He doesn’t answer, but he does follow me. Again.

On the second floor, I do a quick lookover of the area. Five bedrooms, each with a corresponding bathroom. Two of them could tie for the master. It’s the one in the back corner that has plenty of natural light that I choose.

Mine! I yell, parking my suitcase by the bed.

Aaron leans against the doorframe. I wasn’t going to fight you for a room.

I’m just setting the boundaries, that’s all.

"The boundaries being