The billionaires alterna.., p.1
The Billionaire's Alternate Marriage, page 1
THE BILLIONAIRE’S ALTERNATE MARRIAGE
BOOK FOUR OF THE LIMITLESS SWEET BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE SERIES
TAMIE DEAREN
Copyright © 2019 by Tamie Dearen
Baden House Books
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
CONTENTS
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
Limitless Sweet Billionaire Romance Series
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Books by Tamie Dearen
To you, my readers, who give me a reason to write
FOREWORD
Dear Readers,
The heroes in the Limitless series have special physical challenges that most of us might not be personally familiar with, yet we can easily relate to their relationship challenges. That’s because all of us have the same basic need… to love and be loved. And if you have love, your possibilities are truly limitless!
Thank you for taking this journey with me.
Blessings and Happy Reading,
Tamie
CHAPTER 1
Rylie Malone breathed in the brisk March air as she waddled like a duck, lugging her heavy burden in front of her. She should’ve stopped when she felt something dripping on her leg. She should’ve realized the overloaded trash bag was about to rip open. Instead, she ignored the leak and hefted the weighty sack, straining to get it up and into the outdoor trash can.
With a cacophony of crashes, bangs, clatters, and thuds, the entire contents spilled out into a stinking sodden pile on her feet. She gasped, standing in drop-jawed shock, the torn plastic hanging from her hands, rippling in the morning breeze. A three-foot wide pile of spilled garbage littered the sidewalk against the garage wall, reeking of something spoiled. Had anything made it into the can? Probably not.
Rylie screamed silently at her sister. Carlie had only been living with her for five days, but Rylie was already fed up with her. A half-full container of yogurt rolled down to splat on the concrete. More than one convenience-store cup had made the fateful crash with part of the liquid contents still in the bottom. Plastic, glass, and aluminum containers were mixed in with the rest of the trash.
Because Carlie couldn’t possibly walk all the way out to the garage to put something in the recycling bin.
Yet another reason why Rylie didn’t like being called her sister’s identical twin. They might look alike, but they were far from the same.
With a groan, she worked her feet from under the refuse pile and bent to sort the contents. She tried to breathe through her mouth to avoid smelling the stench, yet the fumes brought tears to her eyes.
Rylie loved her twin. In fact, they talked almost every day. Carlie was her best friend and closest confidant. But if they were going to live in the same house, something had to change.
Always focused on honing Carlie’s talents to make her a star, their parents had failed to teach her the basic duties of running a household. It wasn’t Carlie’s fault she’d become a prima donna, expecting someone else to handle common chores she viewed as “beneath” her. When their parents had moved from their house in Denver—the only home the twins had ever known—to a small town in Texas to take care of her mom’s parents, Rylie had inherited her sister.
Not that Carlie, at thirty-three years of age, still lived with their parents. No, for the past nine years, she’d been living in Nashville. She’d recorded several hit songs and gone on national tours. She’d earned a fortune, but her husband/agent had mismanaged her money. By the time her popularity had taken a nose dive, he’d left her with debt up to her eyeballs and nowhere to turn but her family.
“Please let me stay with you,” Carlie had begged when she called. “I can’t live with Mom and Dad in that Podunk town in the middle of nowhere.”
Secretly, Rylie agreed with her sister’s assessment of Dillo Hill, Texas, but it didn’t change the fact that her sister was difficult to live with. The garbage disaster was only the latest in a long list of complaints.
“I’m going to need some gloves for this,” Rylie mumbled, using two fingers to lift an aluminum can from the pile while attempting to avoid whatever brownish goo was clinging to its surface.
At least no one was around to witness the garbage fiasco. Rylie had purchased this place on the outskirts of Denver a month ago, moving from her downtown apartment, and hadn’t seen a single neighbor, which suited her introverted personality to a T.
Rylie spied another aluminum can in the back of the pile close to the garage wall. Spreading her feet wider, she leaned forward, extending her arm as far as possible, her other arm behind her for counter-balance. The can lurked a bare inch away from her fingertips.
“Looks like a minor disaster,” said a male voice behind her.
Rylie jumped at the sound. Her balance faltered. Flapping her arms in desperation, her body seemed to fall in slow motion. With a cry of dismay, she fell onto her hands and knees in the slimy garbage. Something wet soaked into the knees of her jeans.
“I’m so sorry! Are you okay!”
“I’m fine,” she murmured, though there was nothing fine about her situation. Which was worse—falling in garbage or having a stranger witness it?
Please let him be the mailman. No… it needs to be someone I’ll never see again. Let him be a… a… a door-to-door salesman. That’d be perfect! And let him be old and gray and missing some front teeth. The more hideous, the better. And make him someone who hates country music, so he doesn’t know my sister.
“Let me help you up.” The voice was close and vaguely familiar. A large sneaker stepped beside her, compressing a plastic carton that oozed brownish green avocado dip. Then a well-muscled arm came into view on her left, fingers extended. “Here, take my hand.”
Even a cursory glance confirmed her fears—the arm didn’t belong to an old man. Typical. She was always consistent… even where bad luck was concerned.
At least don’t let him be good-looking.
She took a deep breath for courage and immediately regretted it, as nasty fumes accosted her tongue and throat.
“Thanks,” she croaked out, following up with a hoarse cough.
She kept her head down as she picked up her left hand, vainly wiping the grime on her t-shirt, and locked fingers with his. The sizzle was instantaneous and electric, probably because Rylie hadn’t had a date in over a year. She’d had a few boyfriends, but none of her relationships had ever lasted more than a couple of months.
Not that she cared. She couldn’t help comparing them to the one man who’d made her heart speed up, just walking into the room. No one else was as brilliant, as kind, as jaw-droppingly handsome. Unknowingly, Jarrett had set an impossible standard, ruining her for every other man… an unfortunate situation, since he’d never considered her anything more than a friend.
They’d met when he was a grad student instructor for her computer engineering class. But she’d made the mistake of introducing him to her sister, who’d snatched him like a ripe peach. Carlie had dated Jarrett for almost a year before she’d dashed off to Nashville, never looking back.
“I’m so sorry I startled you.” The stranger’s voice jerked her back to the present. “I thought you saw me wave to you when you came out the door.”
“I’m kind of oblivious to my surroundings. Unless you waved a flag the size of Great Britain, I wouldn’t notice,” Rylie murmured, using his grip for balance while she straightened to her knees, then snatched her hand back to safety. She refused to look any higher than his legs, which were encased in some loose pants.
“I hope you won’t hold it against me,” he said. “Especially since we’re next-door neighbors.”
Arghh! She had a neighbor. Her inner introvert cringed. He probably wanted to be all friendly and chatty. She had to get away. The last thing she wanted was a chummy neighbor to ruin her blessed solitude.
As she attempted to stand on her own, her knees slipped in the shifting garbage, and she almost fell again. Suddenly, two hands slipped under her arms from behind and lifted her up, legs dangling as if she weighed nothing—which certainly wasn’t true. Her new neighbor was strong. When her feet touched the ground, his hands lingered for a moment, until she steadied, then withdrew, a whiff of something clean and fresh wafting in the air.
“There you go,” he said. “Did you get hurt when you fell?”
With her chin tucked down, she used a curtain of blonde hair to protect her face from her neighbor’s prying eyes, lest he recognize Carlie’s famous features. Rylie’s constant lot in life was to explain to star-struck strangers that she was not her sister. In defense, she’d taken up the habit
“Nothing hurt but my pride.”
“Need some help cleaning up this mess?”
“No, I’ll take care of it.” Her stomach churned. This guy was determined to be nice. If she acted rude in return, the guilt would kill her. But she didn’t want to spend the next hour with this stranger.
“I’m sorry. I haven’t even introduced myself,” he said. Through her hair, she spied his hand, extended for a shake. “My name’s Jarrett.”
Jarrett? Her breath caught in her throat. He couldn’t be that Jarrett, could he?
She flipped her hair back and gasped, meeting the dark brown eyes that had haunted her dreams for the past nine years. A few days’ growth of beard emphasized the lines of his broad jaw. His t-shirt did nothing to hide the definition in his chest and shoulder muscles. How was it he looked even better than he had nine years ago? Her heart whacked itself against her chest, slamming so hard her ribs were in danger of splintering.
“Carlie?” He froze with his hand in the air, his face blanching like he’d seen a ghost.
“I’m not Carlie.” Her throbbing heart sank, and she ducked her head, hoping he wouldn’t see the color in her cheeks. “I’m Rylie.”
Watching his smile fade in disappointment, she swallowed something the size of Mile High Stadium.
“Oh… hi, Rylie. I should’ve recognized you. I guess we’re neighbors now.” He jammed both hands into his pockets. “Small world.”
She forced her lips into an upward curve that probably looked as awkward as it felt. If only the earth would open up and swallow her.
“Small world,” she repeated. “More like miniscule.”
And cruel.
“How long have you lived here?”
“In the Denver area, for five years. In this house, only a month,” she said. “How about you?”
“I moved back to Denver when I finished my doctorate. My oncologist is here, so I like to stay close.”
He didn’t elaborate on his health, and she felt uncomfortable asking, even though she’d kept him on her prayer list all those years.
“How long have you been in this neighborhood?” She pointed at his house, which was significantly larger than hers. She’d bought the smallest home in the neighborhood, yet it had four bedrooms. In the back of her mind, she still had a vague hope of filling it with a family, someday, though the chances of that happening were diminishing rapidly with each passing year.
“A year or so,” he said. “I’ve also got an apartment in town, but I use it mostly in the winter.”
He had to be making a great salary to afford two nice homes in Denver. “Yeah, me, too. I’ve got four homes… one for each season.”
“Only four?” His dimples winked at her.
“Well, I used to have five, but I sold my Swiss ski chalet.”
“I only have two, but I love this one the most. The privacy is awesome. That, and the view.” He gestured toward the mountains. “Several coworkers have houses out here. The real estate agent for this development must target computer programmers.”
“I think you’re right,” she said. “I saw the brochure at the office. Once I came out here and saw the area, I was hooked. Took every dime I had to buy this place, so I barely have furniture. You could roller skate in my family room.”
“Not me.” Jarrett grinned, lifting the hem of his pants to reveal the prosthesis replacing the leg he’d lost to cancer as a young teen.
She hadn’t forgotten, but she knew he had never let his missing leg slow him down. “I figured if you could run and ski with that thing, you could skate, too.”
“True. But I never learned how to skate.”
“That sounds like a challenge,” she said.
She’d forgotten how much she enjoyed bantering with Jarrett. Since he hadn’t mentioned Carlie again and the conversation was flowing so easily, Rylie wondered if there was a possibility he might be attracted to her. From all appearances, he wasn’t married, but he might be dating someone.
“Who do you work for?” she asked, avoiding the real question she wanted to ask. Do you have a significant other?
Amusement danced in his dark sparkling eyes.
“I’m… uh… I’m with Phantom Enterprises.”
“Wow! I’m impressed. I’d love to work there, but I’ve only got my master’s in computer engineering.” She wanted him to know she had more than a bachelor’s degree. “I heard it’s really hard to get hired with less than a doctorate.”
“You should apply.” An easy grin slid onto his face. “I know the guy in charge of hiring. I could put in a good word for you.”
“Oh, no! I’d never ask you to do that.” She was mortified that he assumed she was asking for favors. “Anyway, my job’s not bad, and I get to do most of my work from home.”
“If you change your mind, the offer still stands. We have remote employees, too. I have team members who don’t even live in Denver.”
He was the most brilliant man she’d ever met. It wasn’t surprising that he’d been promoted to head up an entire team. The idea of applying for Phantom Enterprises was tempting, especially if she could work for Jarrett.
Only about seven years old, the company was a multi-billion-dollar corporation and still growing. The corporation’s outspoken CEO often showed up on the news, wearing a cowboy hat and boots and brandishing his lime-green mechanical hand. If she decided to take Jarrett’s offer seriously, she ought to look up the details online. But even the fact that he’d suggested she apply had to mean he was interested in her, right?
“Thanks, Jarrett. I might take you up on it.”
“Great.” He cleared his throat. “Do you talk to Carlie often?”
Her stomach twisted. How could she be so stupid? She should’ve known he was only being nice to her to find out about Carlie.
With her heart in her throat she gave him the information he craved. “If you want to see Carlie, you’re in luck. She happens to be staying with me for a little while.”
“She is?”
The way his face lit up told her all she needed to know. Even nine years later, he was still pining for Carlie. Rylie’s eyes stung, but she didn’t cry. She never cried. Controlling her emotions was her super-power.
“I’ll send her over after she wakes up. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to see you.” Rylie kept a high, happy note in her voice as she moved toward her garage door, intent on escaping his enticing presence. No use torturing herself with hopes of what could never be. But she was going to give her sister a stern talk before she let her start dating Jarrett again.
“Wait.” His hand grabbed her elbow, and she ignored the ensuing tingles. His eyes studied the ground. “Please don’t send her to my house.”
“You don’t want to see her?”
“I want to, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea.” His hand came up to push through his dark hair. “I need to get some things straight in my head, first.”
She shrugged, like the decision was of no consequence to her. But inside her head, she yelled, “What about me?”
“I have a great idea.” His eyebrows arched high. “I’m cooking steaks for some friends tonight. Why don’t you both come over? Say around five o’clock?”
“Gee, thanks,” she replied in a flat tone. “A chance to make small talk with a bunch of people I don’t know. Sounds almost as fun as driving tiny slivers of wood under my fingernails.” Besides, she’d rather watch a documentary about cockroaches than witness Jarrett and Carlie getting back together.
He chuckled. “You can do it. You’re not any more introverted than I am.”
