WIFE WANTED (A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance) by Bella Grant Read Free Book Online Page B

don’t seem like the play-nice type of lady.”
    “I have my moments,” she shrugged. “I don’t want to have to fight you on this.”
    “Who’s fighting?” He stood and walked around the desk, hands clasped behind his back. “I’m going to find a wife in two months, then you’ll be out of my grandfather’s life and his legacy for good. I don’t know what he saw in you, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you weasel your way in here when you’re clearly bedding down with the enemy.”
    “How dare you suggest such a thing!”
    “You’re the one that showed up to his wake with William Yancey on your arm! What game are you playing at, Diane?”
    She marched right up to him and poked him hard in the chest with her sharp-nailed finger. “One that I’m going to win, and in two months, it’ll be me sitting pretty in that damn chair and you out of here, on the streets where you belong.”
    “Tony,” Riley called. “The lady is ready to leave now.”
    “What? We’re not done here,” she snapped as Tony opened the door and grabbed her arm.
    “Yes, we are, unless you want me to call the cops.”
    “Consider my offer, Riley, otherwise in two months, you’re screwed!”
    “Over my dead body, bitch,” he whispered as Tony dragged her out of his office, down the corridor, and disappeared towards the elevators. Riley walked around his office, hands curling and uncurling at his sides. She wanted him to marry her ? She couldn’t be serious? All she wanted was the company.
    And he knew damn well she was more than ten years older than him. Her wrinkles showed through her foundation a bit more than she would have liked.
    Marry Diane Chandler, his grandfather’s girlfriend? It was like the start to some bad tragic comedy where he’d wind up dead and she’d gain everything in the end. And why should he be out on the street? His parents were white collar. They didn’t come from trash, so why would she say something like that? He sat back down and dialed Ben’s cell before he started to look through the papers that needed to be signed.
    “Hey, Riley, what’s taking so long? Your date is in like…twenty minutes.”
    “Sorry, unexpected guest. Remind me later that we need to dig a bit deeper on Diane Chandler and William Yancey. She’s up to something.”
    “She was in your office? What the hell did she want?”
    “Well, first she tried to shove her breasts in my face—fakest I’ve ever seen—and then she asked me to ask her to marry me,” he muttered.
    Silence met his words as his pen scratched out his signature on one form, then two.
    “Ah, Ben, you still there, buddy?”
    “Sorry, just processing. She’s almost old enough to be your mother.”
    Riley fought back a shiver. “Yeah, yeah, I think so. Thanks for that mental image.”
    “You’re welcome. I’m assuming you said no?”
    “Nope, I said yes and we’re getting hitched next week. What do you think I said?” He laughed in disbelief. “Seriously, Ben, I’m desperate, but I don’t have a death wish.”
    “She would try to kill you,” Ben mused.
    “Poison. That’s how she’d do it.”
    “You think?”
    Riley glanced at the phone, amused. “Yeah, why, what do you think she’ll do?”
    “Smother you with her fake boobs, what else?”
    “Very funny.” He laughed as Ben cackled through the line. “I’ll be down in five. Don’t laugh yourself into a coma.”
    “No promises. That image is going to entertain me for weeks.”
    “And you’re supposed to be my friend,” Riley said and hung up on him. He signed the last few papers, tucked them away in the folder, and set it in his outbox for Linda to pick up Monday. It was Friday night, which meant everywhere was going to be crazy. Ben hadn’t even said which restaurant he was meeting this mystery woman at. He just wanted to go and get it over with…then take a nice hot shower and try not to picture anything to do with Diane Chandler.
     
     
     
     

Chapter 8
     
    Phoebe