The Billionaire’s Fake Marriage: (Crystal Beach Resort Standalone Series) Page 9

  Needless to say, after a decade of knowing one another, Logan had told him everything about his father’s will. It was actually Dave who came up with the plan to have an annulled marriage in order to get the inheritance.

  “Wedding bells came fast,” Dave mused as he looked over the papers Logan had handed over.

  “And furious,” Logan added.

  “Problems already?”

  “Just the opposite actually,” he breathed. “Things are going… well. She’s nothing like I thought. I would actually dare to say that we’re having a good time together.”

  Dave pursed his lips and gave an approving nod as he pressed his hands together. "Ah, good! Too bad you're getting divorced."

  Logan offered a polite laugh and crossed his legs; the hem of his suit pant riding up and revealing the flashy purple and yellow silk socks he had on.

  “Okay, Dave, let's talk business.”

  "Alright, so all your paperwork is good, da-da-da,” Dave hummed as he looked through the paperwork. “So, in accordance with your father's will, it looks like there won't be a transferring of funds until you and Riley been together for at least one year.”

  "So...” he paused and winced, “That’s set in stone, then?”

  "Correct. I tried to get you down to six months, but this paperwork is iron-clad.”

  Logan thought he would be disappointed by the news. He’d been looking forward to his inheritance; in fact, part of him actually believed he had made it his mission to get it as a way to distract himself from the pain he felt after losing his father. But the truth was, he was relieved.

  Relieved that he would still have a whole year to be with Riley.

  It was nice to have her around. It was nice not to feel so alone every day.

  “I see you had her sign the prenuptial agreement,” Dave said, still flipping through the folder. "That's good. No kids?”

  "No kids,” he confirmed.

  "Good. Good. Well, everything looks okay here. You’ll come back in twelve months, and we’ll discuss how to move forward with the divorce. There are, of course, certain rules that go along with that.”

  “As there are with everything,” Logan sighed.

  "So, you’ll need to have grounds for a divorce. This either falls under fault or no-fault. For you and Riley, I would suggest a collaborative no-fault divorce based on incompatibility.”

  “And we have a prenup so, we won’t be having any problems?”

  Dave shook his head. “We’ve planned everything well.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Logan nodded and waited for Dave to say more, but the man just rustled through the papers before stacking and straightening them.

  Dave steepled his fingers together and looked at Logan with a wry smile.

  “What?” Logan asked, knowing the look all too well.

  “Man to man, Logan. How are things going with her?”

  "Good”

  Dave rolled his eyes. “Come on. I've known you for years,” the man pushed, cocking his head to the side as he said, “You seem happy.”

  "Man to man?” Logan took a breath. “I am. I like her, a lot. She's spontaneous and brave, and she challenges me and...” he winced, hearing how trite the words sounded coming out of his mouth and knowing how ridiculous his next statement would be, given his current circumstance.

  “And I know how this is going to sound. But she's not materialistic,” he surmised.

  Dave put a finger up, just shy of cutting him off. “They all are. Don't let her fool you.”

  "Says the divorce lawyer,” Logan rolled his eyes.

  "You hired her. She's obviously expecting compensation.”

  Logan shook his head. “I know that. Trust me; I know when I'm being used or when someone's in it for something. But that’s not Riley. She doesn't have an agenda.”

  "Then good! You’ve found one of the rare ones!”

  "No, not good! What do I do now? She's my employee!”

  Dave stared at him and then buckled into a laugh. "So?”

  "So, I'm supposed to be getting my inheritance from all this?”

  The lawyer shrugged. "Who cares! You think you see a future with her?”

  "I...” he stammered.

  Riley was… everything he never knew he wanted in a partner. Loyal and kind, obviously. But more than that. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, she was honest to a fault, she got along with his family, and she made even a mundane task of waiting in a line seem like an adventure. They just worked.

  Could he see a future with her?

  “I think so,” he said. “Absolutely.”

  Dave shrugged. "Divorce her and then ask her out!”

  "That's ridiculous.”

  "Logan, I’m telling you. If she's one of the good ones, don't let someone else scoop her up.”

  Nervously, Logan stood and began to pace around the immense cherry-wood-walled office before leaning a hand against one of the massive built-in bookcases. “What am I supposed to say to her? It’s not exactly like we’ve talked about this. I don’t even know how she feels.”

  "Well guess what? You've got six months to figure it out.”

  Logan scoffed and said, "Yeah. She's not swayed by money, remember?”

  Dave laughed hard at that and said, "Then you'll have to scrounge up some good old-fashioned charm then, won't you?”

  Logan raised his brows dismissively. Maybe Dave was right. If he had any chance to be with her for real, to prove he wasn't a shallow a-hole, he would need to make good use of the next few months.

  "You want a tip? How to start?” Dave asked, and Logan gave him an exasperated stare. “Hey, I’ve been married for twenty years here. You want my advice or not?”

  "Yeah, sure.”

  "Well, for a start, shouldn't you be on your honeymoon right now?”

  Logan deadpanned, “It's a fake marriage.”

  "Nope. It's a real marriage. Fake relationship. What you want is to make the relationship real. And besides, everyone's expecting you to go. So, go.”

  "Where?”

  "Holy hell, Logan. You've got all the money in the world. Take her to Paris! Make her fall for you and call it a day!”

  And he decided he would do just that.

  He'd always considered himself charming, frequently hit on by women, and knew it wouldn't be hard to find a partner for an evening or for the long-haul. But he suddenly felt nervous at the thought of seriously trying to impress Riley for the simple fact that he respected her. This wasn't just some ego-trip. He wanted her to like him. And the thought that he might not be able to do that was terrifying.

  After a quick swing by his father’s office, he booked a trip to Paris for the following evening.

  He loved how unattached Riley was. Having nothing to be responsible for, not even a part-time job, made it much easier to plan such a lavish surprise for her.

  Still, he knew she wasn't the type to be taken in by money, so the prospect of whisking her away and banking on her falling for via gifts was completely off the table.

  He planned a luxurious trip for two to explore Paris and some of the French countryside. They would be staying at the most expensive hotels and get private tours of everything there was to see.

  He'd already been to France, several times, in fact, but the thought of sharing such an experience with Riley made his heart race.

  With the tickets in his pocket, he made his way back to his beach mansion. Riley wasn't home, which made it easier to plan a romantic night for her.

  "Girls like candles," he said absent-mindedly to himself as he walked through his apartment. He lit up his balcony with candles and set a bottle of wine out on the patio table. The sun had completely set, leaving the candles to illuminate his outdoor space.

  "What are you doing?" Riley called from the beach below, laughing as she raced up underneath the balcony. She'd been watching him set up.

  Logan's face flushed and he was happy she wouldn't be able to see it under the night sky. "Just setti
ng some things up."

  "Why, you got a date?" she teased.

  "Hardly," he teased. "Just drinks with my wife."

  Riley laughed and began waving him down toward the beach. "Come swimming!" she insisted, her voice barely audible over the crashing waves that were hitting the beach.

  Logan grinned and gestured to the fully candlelit balcony and said, "Can't! The house will burn down. You come up!"

  "I want to swim!" she insisted petulantly, and he laughed, shaking his head.

  "One drink!" he called down to the beach below the balcony. "Then we can go for a walk!"

  It didn't take long before he heard the glass front door open and close: the sounds of feet pattering to the raised balcony behind him.

  She was wearing a one-piece bathing suit, black, with lace detailing, and an oversized pink wrap that she was using as a beach coverup. Her hair was styled naturally by the sea; salty curls of blonde and brown strands perfectly blended together. Seeing her made him feel sick to his stomach in a way that was unfamiliar to him; he was lovesick.

  He looked at the burns on her shoulders and asked, "Been on the beach all day?"

  "For a little while," she smiled. "But I was on the mainland earlier."

  He fought off the urge to roll his eyes. "You and the peasants," he said, clearly joking. "I just can't keep you away from them."

  "Well, we have to show the little people that we still understand them," she said in her mock-snooty voice.

  Logan poured champagne into a crystal flute on the table and invited her to sit before passing her the glass. She took a small sip and smiled at him, positively glowing.

  "So, what's all this for?"

  "A celebration," he said, cocking a brow and smirking slightly.

  "Of?"

  "Us," he offered. "We pulled it off."

  "Oh, right! You met with the lawyer today. How'd everything go?"

  He swallowed, slightly nervous at her excitement that their marriage would soon be over. Maybe this was a bad idea after all.

  "Twelve months," he said with a one-shouldered shrug. "That's how long until we can get a divorce. So, you're stuck with me until then, it seems."

  "Not a bad place to be stuck," she offered flirtatiously, and his smile quickly returned. "And we're celebrating that?"

  "No, we're celebrating the start of our new future. This is the beginning of change, for both of us. And I want to kick it off with something big."

  "Like? Like?" she said, her excitement growing as she nearly bounced in her chair.

  He grinned and set the tickets down on the table, sliding them over to her the same way he'd practiced all afternoon. "Look."

  "What's this?"

  "Tickets," he explained.

  "For?"

  He chuckled as he rolled his eyes. "You know, Riley, when presented with a gift, people usually look at said gift."

  Riley met his eyes and smirked before tearing into the envelope and inspected the contents. "Paris?" she exclaimed gleefully; her whole face lighting up. "W-when? What for?"

  "Our honeymoon," he said, shrugging as if it were nothing at all. "Starting tomorrow."

  "You're serious?" Her smile twitched, though stayed firmly planted on her face.

  "Well, I don't usually make traveling a practical joke."

  "Oh my gosh!" she screamed, bounding across the deck to wrap her arms around him. "I can't believe we're going to Paris... tomorrow!"

  "You're going to love it," he smiled, pulling her back into a hug, enjoying the feeling of having her so close. "People are going to expect us to leave, so I figured... two weeks in Paris won't hurt anyone."

  "This is going to be amazing," she said breathlessly as she stared down at the tickets. Then she repeated, "Two weeks. Wow."

  "I hope... you like it."

  "Are you kidding me?” she said, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. “It’s amazing.”

  “Good,” he said, feeling accomplished. “That’s just what I was going for.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Riley

  Paris was breathtaking. It was everything she had imagined it would be. And while she felt guilty for leaving Zoe behind, she wasn't at all opposed to being swept off her feet in the city of romance.

  Logan, to her surprise, spoke fluent French. In fact, he spoke three languages, she'd learned. French, English, and Spanish.

  He took her around the French Alps where they stayed at private chateaus; skied at the high villages of Tignes; and dined at some of the most amazing restaurants she had ever been to. But her absolute favorite moment... the moment she realized things between her and Logan were no longer just play, was when they went to the Eiffel tower.

  It was cliché, she knew. But the city of romance had sucked her in.

  Away from their little island, the March air was crisp and cold and refreshing. She could see her breath as they walked.

  Logan had bought out the tower for exactly one hour, ensuring no tourists would be there to spoil their time.

  "You should be nicer about other people," Riley scolded. "The world doesn't belong to you."

  "Tonight, it does," he smiled.

  "And you should be nicer to wait-staff," she added with a half-serious tease.

  "What? Where's this coming from?" he laughed.

  "You treat them like... ick. I don't know. Like servants."

  "Oh, I'm sorry. Is that not their job?"

  Riley rolled her eyes. "Well yes, but—"

  "—But I tip like a Rockefeller," he winked, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer to him. "So don't worry about it." She looked up at him, raising her eyebrows playfully and he sighed. Logan leaned in and kissed her hard on the forehead, taking in the scent of her. "But I'll take it under advisement. Thank you."

  The city was dusted with a light layer of snow as they ascended the tower. She was surprised at how much the tower shook when they were up there. The iron tower felt like it would blow over at the slightest breeze.

  "This is a lot freakier than I thought it was going to be," she jittered out, clinging onto Logan for dear life as she peeked out the fenced-in viewing area.

  "That's what a man wants to hear when he's planning a romantic evening."

  Riley laughed. "No, no. It's absolutely perfect."

  The city was just as beautiful as she thought it would be. It was like they had been dropped into a medieval city. The rich architecture of the square neighborhoods and zones were only outshined by the gold gilded building tops.

  Once away from the tower, Logan found them an outdoor vendor who sold hot chocolate and he bought her the richest, thickest, most chocolatey hot chocolate she'd ever had. Zoe would have loved it.

  They sat in view of the Eiffel Tower as the light show began: a spectacular view of glittering lights that was just as impressive as she imagined it would be. The two sat on a bench, huddled together with their sugary, smooth drinks, and she pointed up to one of the bulbs that had burnt out. She wasn't expecting to see anything like that in such an opulent, rich city.

  "Way to go, Paris!" Logan smacked his fist into his hand, jokingly, and announced, "I'll sue!"

  She giggled and leaned against his chest, watching the sight. Then she looked up at him and said, "That's me."

  "That?" he asked with a laugh, pointing back at the lights. "That broken bulb?"

  She nodded, refusing to look away from the spots.

  Logan stared at the spot for some time and then set his thumb on Riley's chin, tilting her head up to look at him. "You're not broken."

  "I am," she said with a nod.

  "Then... you'll be broken like me."

  "Broken together?" she joked, and he nodded; then he leaned in and kissed her neck, moved slowly to her cheek, and then landed his soft lips against hers.

  "And we can take turns putting each other back together," he said when their lips parted. "Deal?"

  She swallowed, falling utterly in love with him.

  "Deal."


  When they got back to the islands, it felt like coming back to a whole new world, and a whole new Logan.

  Soon, it had been exactly eight weeks since Riley had married Logan.

  Every time she thought about what she did, her heart would beat so hard she could hear it pound right through her chest. It was a rush of emotions: guilt, for lying to his family, for lying about her daughter… and excitement and lust and romance for being with someone new.

  Still, she missed Zoe.

  Being without her was like being without a limb, and although the weeks of a blossoming romance with Logan had been an exciting whirlwind, she needed to see her daughter again.

  Riley told Logan she had to go to the mainland to visit family. Which wasn’t even a lie. She’d made plans with Leah and Tom to have a movie night and sleepover.

  Movie nights were always exciting in the Radford household. Whenever Riley came to visit, it would be an epic night that Zoe always loved. It always meant watching kids’ movies: something cheesy, animated, with perhaps some innuendos thrown about that usually went right over the children’s heads.

  It also meant a rush of little girl energy, ever since Charlotte was born. Even though she was only two, she and Zoe had become fast friends.

  Movie nights meant endless giggles and scattered toys, crushed chips and the best snacks possible to fill the living room before putting the little ones to bed. Then it was a glass of wine and grown-up talk.

  A loud movie blared from the speakers of the flat screen television, and Tom winced at the sound. “Hey, Zoe?” Riley said, and her daughter regarded her with perked ears and playful curiosity. “You wanna turn that down a little, darlin’? We have friends who would probably still like to be able to hear tomorrow, if that’s okay with you?”

  Zoe offered a wide grin and marched up to the television, triumphantly clicking the volume down to a more bearable level. “Good?”

  She widened her eyes at the girl, smiled and then gave an emphasized nod. Zoe happily bared her teeth at her mother and plopped down in front of the adults on the floor, staring up at the movie in wonder.

  “That’s you!” Tom and Leah's daughter Charlotte shouted to Tom, pointing wildly to a talking alligator on the screen before them. The creature wore a pink frock and held a long, jeweled scepter.