Alpha Billionaire Series
A Fake Fiancée for Christmas Chapter 8

JACE

The rest of the week drags by, and I can't stop thinking about Bailey and our date. It went so well. I've had other good first dates, but something about this one outranks all of the others. Bailey outranks all of the others.

I'm treading water in very dangerous territory here. Shark-infested waters. Falling for my fake fiancée isn't a part of the plan. But all I can think about is kissing her. Wondering what she tastes like and how those plump lips will feel like moving against mine. Dammit.

This is getting ridiculous. The woman has infiltrated my thoughts, utterly bewitching me. It's early evening Thursday and I'll be with her in less than 24 hours for dinner. But it's not soon enough, I realize, and swipe up my phone. I drop back on my leather couch and pull her number up. I have no idea what I'm about to text her, but I have the overwhelming urge to reach out and communicate with her. To feel her on the other end of my phone.

I start typing away and hope she doesn't think I'm a total weirdo: Hi. Just reminding you about tomorrow. I'll pick you up at 5. Dress up, but no gown required this time.

I hit send and hold my breath. Is she going to write back right away or make me wait? I hate games. I don't appreciate when people play them with me and-

My phone vibrates and it's her. I open the text and read: No gown required? Am I supposed to go naked?

A couple of laughing emojis follow her question, but I'm not laughing. I'm picturing her naked. Smooth, perfect skin, gorgeous breasts, long, slim legs. F**k. I didn't text her to get all worked up, but here I lay with a hard-on tenting my sweatpants.

I won't say no if you walk out the door naked, I write to her. But I meant more like a simple dress. But knock yourself out and keep me guessing. Few people do.

Because you're so good at reading people? she asks.

Because people are incredibly predictable.

I'm not predictable. Maybe it's my job to put you in your place and keep you on your toes...

I mull over her words and maybe it's true. Except for my family, everyone else in my life bends over backwards for me and will tell me whatever they think I want to hear. I like that Bailey isn't like that and she's more like the women in my life who I love and respect- my grandma, mom and sister.

Maybe...Lucky for you, I like it.

You like being bossed around as well as being bossy? she writes.

I can hear the flirty tone in her text and my mouth edges up. Well, I am the boss.

Ha! If you say so...

I can't help but grin. I like this playful side of her and hope to see more of it tomorrow night. When we went to the museum gala, I could tell that she was nervous and out of her element. Since this is a more intimate affair, I hope she'll feel like she can open up, relax and not have to put on a show. At least not with me.

If I could make the next 24 hours move faster, I would. But they drag on and by the time the Maybach pulls up to Bailey's apartment, I'm champing at the bit to see her. Which is strange for me. Normally, I could care less when I see a woman next.

I hop out and practically jog up to her door. After a quick knock, I straighten my tie and wait, all of my patience gone. I'm about to knock again when the door swings open and Bailey stands there in a cute swing dress, black tights and ankle boots. "Hi," she says breathlessly. "Let me just grab my coat and scarf."

"How are you?" I ask and step inside, looking around. Her place is small, but cozy. I reach for her coat, take it, and hold it open for her.

"Thank you," she says, slipping her arms inside. "I'm good."

"You're not nervous, are you?"

"A little," she admits and wraps a scarf around her throat.

"Don't be. There will be less than 20 people and you don't have to talk to any of them," I tell her.

"You want me to be antisocial?"

"I want you to talk to me."

"Oh," she says, sounding a little surprised.

"You look gorgeous, by the way," I say as we step outside, and she locks her door.

"Thank you," she responds, sounding a little shy.

I'm not sure if the color rising in her cheeks is because of my compliment or the cold wind kicking up. I hope it's because of me.

Once we're in the back of the car and the heat is pumping out, Bailey relaxes in the seat and I study her profile for a moment too long. Gorgeous doesn't actually do her justice tonight. More like stunning. There's a vibrancy and energy radiating off her that I haven't seen before. It makes me want to tell Ronaldo to drop us back off at my place. Skip the damn dinner and take Bailey straight to bed.

Shit.As though she can hear my wicked thoughts, she turns to meet my hungry stare. Our gazes lock and it takes everything within me not to reach out and touch her. Cup her face and finally satisfy my damn curiosity about what it would be like to kiss her. "So, ah, I hear it's supposed to snow tonight," she finally says and breaks eye contact.

"Hmm. Is that so?" I murmur. Reel it in, Montgomery. You're being way too obvious. I give myself a mental shake and try to picture something other than what Bailey would look like spread out before me, naked in front of a crackling fire. "First snow of the season," she adds brightly.

"You like the snow? Most people spend all winter complaining about it."

"I do. I love when you're warm and cozy inside, and you look out the window and watch it fall. It's one of my favorite things."

I turn to face her. "What else do you like?" I'm genuinely interested in getting to know her better even though that wasn't a part of the plan. Oh, well. F**k the plan.

She tilts her head, thinking for a moment. "Getting lost in a good book. Vanilla-flavored coffee. Helping people fall in love."

I arch a brow. "Vanilla?" I wonder if that's why she always smells like vanilla and file that information for future use.

She nods. "Fresh out of the pot. There's this local shop I buy it from, and I could drink it by the gallon." She chuckles and studies me. "What about you? What're some of your favorite things?"

Her question catches me off-guard because the sad truth is people rarely ask me about myself. They want to talk about business, money, investments and how they can save their reputation or their client's. I can't remember the last time someone actually took the time to ask me what I like.

I pause and have to think for a minute before I answer. "Well, I like when I get my way, but I think you already know that. I also enjoy a good challenge," I say meaningfully, and she blushes. "If you're talking more personally, I prefer the sun over snow any day and I agree about a hot, fresh pot of coffee. Though, it doesn't need to be flavored. Black is just fine. And the biggest joy in my life would have to be my family. As loud and obnoxious and nosy as they are, I wouldn't change a thing."

"That's really nice." A sad smile curves her mouth.

I remember what Ben told me about how all of her family has passed, and I hope she doesn't think I'm rude because I haven't asked about them. "I meant to ask about your family," I say carefully. "Are they going to wonder why you're not spending the holidays with them and why you ran off with some stranger?" I try to keep my tone light and teasing, but it's a conversation I want to have because it's important to me that she knows I'm here for her.

No matter what she thinks, she isn't alone. Not anymore.

"I don't have any family left," she says softly.

Oh, shit.Suddenly, I feel like a complete jerk. This probably wasn't the right time to bring this up. The cloudy look that washes over her beautiful face twists my heart.

"I'm so sorry, Bailey."

"It's okay. How could you?" She gives a little shrug. "My parents passed when I was only ten and my grandparents raised me, but they both died a few years ago. Honestly, it'll be nice to spend Christmas with your family. That's a luxury I haven't had in a long time." "What do you usually do?" I ask, studying her closely. If she tells me she spends it alone, I swear to God, I'm going to lose my shit. No one should have to spend the holidays alone. Especially not someone as amazing and kind as Bailey.

"Nothing really," she admits, voice tinged with sadness. "Just, um, you know. Maybe bake some cookies and watch Hallmark movies."

"That sounds lonely," I murmur.

"Yeah, well, it's just one day, you know?"

I can tell she's trying to make it sound like it's no big deal, but it affects her. A lot. Without thinking, I reach for her hand and squeeze it. "You'll be surrounded by family this year," I assure her.

Damn.I hate picturing her alone when Christmas is the time you should be with your loved ones. The entire season is based on enjoying with your family, friends and traditions. If you don't have that then it's one of the most depressing times of the year. And I hate that. It's one of the reasons I started the Love, Peace, Joy Dinner.

"No one should be alone on Christmas," I tell her. "No one." My voice comes out more passionately than I intend and her blue-gray eyes study me, but she doesn't comment.

Shit.Well, now I guess I need to tell her my story or she'll think I'm crazy.

"Sorry," I say and pull back, releasing her hand. "It's just something that I'm passionate about so I started the Love, Joy, Peace Dinner."

"What's that?" she asks.

"Every Christmas Day, I open up the doors of a building I own and invite whoever needs a meal, company or a warm place to hang out for the evening. I have a huge roster of volunteers who help out and it's grown so much since I began doing it five years ago that we've had to expand from one room to the entire floor. I haven't attended in the last few years, but I usually stop by earlier in the week and make sure everything is coming together and if they need more help, I can stay."

But this year, I'll be busy trying to convince my family that I'm in love with a woman I barely know.

"That's really kind of you to do," she murmurs.

I shrug. "It's important to me." "Why though?"

"I have a big family and have always been lucky to have them to celebrate with, but when I first started Montgomery Enterprises, I didn't make it home for the holidays that year. I was working crazy long hours and couldn't get away. I remember being in the office Christmas Eve and getting hungry, so I went out to see what was open. It took me a minute, but I finally found a Chinese restaurant and grabbed some food. On my way back to work, I'll never forget seeing a man sitting on the sidewalk by himself, barefoot and crying."

Bailey listens closely and I can still picture the encounter perfectly. And it still makes my heart twist.

"I asked if he was okay then invited him back to my office. He was so cold and hungry. He was hesitant at first, but I could see the desperation in his eyes. The sheer loneliness. I finally convinced him to get out of the cold. We went back and I offered him some Chinese food. We ended up talking and he told me he used to work on Wall Street but was fired and lost everything. I let him take a hot shower then gave him some fresh clothes and shoes. He was the whole inspiration for the Love, Joy, Peace Dinner." "Did you ever see him again?" she asks, clearly upset.

"I hired him," I say.

"You did?"

"He's one of my best employees," I tell her. "And now he's in charge of running the dinner every year."

She ponders my story for a moment then smiles at me. "Wow. That's amazing, Jace. You saved that man's life."

"Sometimes people just need a little help. I'm glad I was there at the right time."

"You didn't grow up wealthy, did you?" she surmises.

I shake my head. "No. My dad worked two jobs to help me get through college. If it wasn't for him, I never would've graduated. My family supported me and then I worked my a*s off to pay them back."

Maybe I'm wrong, but she seems to be looking at me with a newfound respect. Before I can say anything else, the car pulls up to the private residence where a client of mine is hosting dinner.

We get out and as we're walking up to the house, I wrap my arm around Bailey's waist. It feels right. And, God knows, after telling me she was planning to spend the holidays alone, I'm feeling extremely protective of her. Leaning down, my lips brush her hair, and I say, "We don't have to stay long. Just make an appearance."

"Whatever you need to do," she says.

"Jace, welcome!" a man calls out as we step into the mansion.

I shake hands with my client and introduce him to Bailey. "Lex Danvers, this is Bailey Briggs."

"Nice to meet you," he says, turning on the charm.

As his gaze openly peruses Bailey, I struggle not to roll my eyes and be overly annoyed. Anyone of the female persuasion is a target for Lex. His charm and libido are legendary. "Lex owns and develops some extremely popular software systems. He's also dating Candy Shepherd." I can't help but throw that last part in about the famous model, intending to put him in his place, but he gives me a grin.

"We broke up," he informs me. A little too happily. "So, are you two just friends?"

I tighten my arm around Bailey, pulling her against my side. "We just got engaged."

His eyes widen. "Oh. Well, congratulations," he forces out.

My announcement doesn't seem to thrill him, but I don't give a shit. I'm staking my claim and, client or not, he can piss off.

"Well, come on in and make yourself comfortable. Drinks are at the bar and dinner will start in ten minutes."

As Lex saunters off in search of new prey, a muscle ticks in my jaw. He has a lot of nerve hitting on my date.

"De-clench," Bailey murmurs, reaching up to pat my jaw.

I glance down into her blue-gray eyes which gleam up at me. "Stay away from him," I warn her. "He's a love 'em and leave 'em kind of guy."

"Then what does that make you?" she asks softly as we walk to the bar.

"What?" I abruptly stop. "You think I'm like Lex Danvers?" The thought makes me ill.

"Well, you are a bachelor who refuses to settle down and I'm sure you've left quite a few broken hearts in your wake."

"I'm upfront from the beginning. I don't lie and string women along." Fuck. If she thinks that little of me, I'm insulted. I turn and face her. "Is that what you think? I enjoy leading women on and then dumping them?"

I don't mean to be so confrontational and get upset, but suddenly what Bailey thinks about me is really important. And I'm not exactly sure why. It just fucking is.

She tilts her head, studying me. "Honestly? I haven't quite figured out who you are yet. You're not the easiest person to read."

My hackles lower a bit.

"I'm starting to think that you project one thing to the world, but inside you're something else entirely different. Especially after hearing about how you helped that man and gave him a job." She brushes a piece of lint off my jacket and grins up at me. "Deep down, beneath the playboy facade, I'm sensing a very kind man."

Okay, I can deal with that answer. I give a small nod and guide her toward a server with a tray of drinks.

Two glasses of wine later, we're sitting at the long dining room table and it's one of those stupid things where the seating arrangements are chosen ahead of time. I'm seated between a ditzy model named Violette and some actress that keeps talking about some movie she's going to supposedly be in.

As the server refills my glass, I reach for it, take a long sip and let my gaze drift across the table and down to where Bailey sits between a stuffy-looking Wall Street-type and a well-known chef. Thankfully, the good-looking chef is gay because if I had to sit here and watch her flirt with him all night, I'd grind my teeth down to nothing. I'm not overly worried about the stockbroker because it's clear he has no game. Every time he manages to look over at Bailey, he turns three shades of red and it seems like he can't get a word out without stuttering.

Great. Fine by me.

I'm not sure when this possessive streak started, but I want Bailey next to me at all times. Not by those losers.

The interesting part of the evening is she keeps looking over at me, too. Our glances become more frequent and flirtier as the dinner progresses and by dessert, I'm trying to ignore the heaviness in my boxers.

I watch Bailey take a few bites of the raspberry chocolate mousse then excuse herself. Without hesitation, I stand up and follow her down the hallway to where the bathroom is located. She disappears inside and when the bathroom opens a few minutes later, I'm leaning against the wall, waiting for her.

She abruptly stops when she sees me.

"The seating arrangements tonight suck," I murmur.

"And why is that?" she asks, taking a step closer.

"Because you're too far away." I push off the wall, close the gap between us and run my hands up her arms. A shiver runs through her body and our gaze's lock. My head screams a warning, telling me not to do what I'm about to do.

And all I can think as I lean down and close my mouth over hers?

F**k it.