Jordan Bentley needs his inheritance to protect himself after his parents murder. Martha Vargas’s scholarship is disappearing. They both see each other as the answer to fast needs, and the marriage was supposed to be temporary.

Jordan Bentley needs to marry to unlock his ten billion dollar inheritance. He’s rich, entitled and will do anything to maintain his life.

Martha Vargas is about to lose her scholarship and she needs money to finish school, fast. Jordan offers to pay her a hundred million dollars for a thirty day marriage, though they must pretend to have a real marriage sounded like a dream come true.

Neither expected the chemistry that sparked between them, but when threats roll in and they must work together, both start to believe in true love.

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Martha parked her bicycle in the shade of the high-rise on Miami’s white sandy beach. Her heart beat a million miles a minute and it wasn’t from the trek in the 100 degree heat. She brushed her slightly damp hands against her jeans and gazed out at the clear blue ocean.

Today had the possibility of a new start, a change to her life for the better. Who knows? One conversation never hurt anyone, or so she’d told herself over and over since coming up with the bold plan during the middle of the night.

The lobby was three floors all on its own with elevators to the west and east side. The all-white Italian marble desk that the security staff sat behind probably cost more than her entire year’s tuition. Toward the ocean was a lounge with a central fire pit that no one was using in the middle of the scorching day.

Security cleared her pretty fast once she showed her college ID and mentioned who she was there to see, and they directed her to the 45th floor.

“Take the east elevator,” one of the uniformed men said.

“Thank you.” Martha hugged her backpack straps close to her body and rode the elevator up, getting off on the 45th floor. She peered out into the hall which gave her an option of four doors. 4502. She held her breath as she reminded herself that she had nothing to lose, and knocked.

Too soon, the dark-haired, brown-eyed, muscular college senior she saw every Wednesday as he waited in her line for coffee stood before her, his shirt partially unbuttoned, and stared at her like she was a complete stranger.

Okay she was, but still. Martha lifted her chin and offered her hand to shake while she asked, “Jordan Bentley?”

He blinked as he tried to place her, looking arrogantly down his nose. It was clear he had no idea who she was or why she was in his hallway. “Yes.”

“We go to college together.” She steadied her legs to brace for impact as she held his gaze and then said what she never thought she’d say to anyone. “My name is Martha Vargas. I’d like to apply to be your wife for 30 days.”

His intake of breath and wide eyes showed his surprise, even as his shoulders straightened from a casual slouch. “Excuse me?”

Her face felt hot. This had to be the stupidest thing she’d ever done, but if anyone needed the money, it was her. Now.

Martha had received a letter in the mail that said her scholarship was in danger of losing its funding, which meant she’d never finish college, just as her mother and everyone she’d ever known—except Ricky—had predicted. She refused to turn back now.

She adjusted the weight of her backpack on her shoulders. “I know there isn’t an official listing or a job application to fill out, but I wanted to meet you and see if we might help each other.”

Jordan motioned for her to come inside, so she walked through palatial white double doors into a condo that was fashioned out of a dream. The white marble downstairs in the lobby was nothing compared to his kitchen counter and the expanse of floor was light bamboo which was probably customized to whatever he wanted instead of just using as it was built. He closed the door and crossed his arms. “How do you even know about—”

“Right.” She interrupted him before he went further, in fear of being thrown out. If someone knocked on her dorm room door with an insane plan of a marriage of convenience, she’d slam it closed in his face. But this was no dorm, and the plan was his actually, with a few tweaks.

“You asked Jessica yesterday when you were both outside near the bay, and she turned you down because she’s knee-deep in love with Matthew and didn’t want to ruin her chances with him.”

His hand covered his chin while his big brown eyes studied her. For a second, he didn’t move at all. Martha tried to stand tall, so she didn’t shake and give away her nerves. He dropped his hand and asked, “Jessica told you?”

“No.” Martha had been walking home from her barista job in the same way she strolled every night. Normally no one was in her path. She pushed her hair behind her ear and said, “Not exactly. I overheard you both talking at the library entrance that overlooks Biscayne—it wasn’t like you were whispering,” he’d seemed very confident when he’d proposed the opportunity to a surprised Jessica, “but later on I saw Jessica with Matthew, who also lives at my dorm, so I figured she must have turned you down.”

“Huh.” Jordan directed her to his living area and she noticed his bare feet so she quickly kicked off her black Reeboks. He didn’t comment while she pushed them near his door before she followed him. “So you thought you’d just come over to my apartment and propose?”

Well, she was running out of options and the scheme, at least in her head, didn’t sound that awful.  It gave them each what they wanted. She nodded. “Finding out where you live wasn’t easy and that took me a few hours. I’d hoped to be here earlier.”

His eyes widened as his only expression. How was he so in control of his reactions? Maybe she was just looking for more because of her psych classes.

He shook his head a little. “How did you even?”

She offered her brightest smile and stayed still. “We have a school directory. I found it online in the email database.”

Jordan slowly eyed her up and down. Her light blue shirt was only slightly wet from her ride here, and her jeans were clean. The lack of jewelry might be all he really noticed, or maybe her lack of makeup, or her brown hair in the messy bun. She wasn’t a fashion model, but she wasn’t awful. She bit her lip and waited for him to finish his scrutiny.

He motioned for her to sit on the white leather couch and he took the matching chair opposite her. “And you go to college?”

The fact he hadn’t thrown her out yet should make her feel at ease. However, her skin still had goosebumps despite the record-breaking heat she’d pedaled in to get here. She swallowed and wished he’d offer her water, but she wasn’t going to ask. She kept her gaze steady and said, “Yes. I live in the dorm. Before I agree though, I’ll need proof that what you said is true about the money, and how much you’re willing to pay for a thirty day wife.”

Her needs were not that large, but to have no debt after her schooling would be a relief.

He shifted in his seat, assessing her, and at last scratched his chin. “It could be a maximum of sixty days. It all depends on how fast the bank releases my inheritance and how fast my lawyers file.”

Good. So he wasn’t saying no. This might be her only chance to finish college. She nodded like they were in a board room and not in his deluxe condo. “I totally understand. And I’m 100% free of any romantic entanglements.”

The jeer he made with the flick of his tongue instantly made her feel like the ugly duckling. Since she was invisible in her jobs as she served his crew, she didn’t take it personally.

He straightened. “Yes, I can guess that, but let’s be completely honest, Martha. We’re not in each other’s circles. Why would you want to marry me?”

Money.

Maybe someone like him, related to royalty, would never understand being poor. She’d been hungry growing up, and once she turned 14, she’d gotten her first job and never stopped working. She’d studied hard all her life because she believed her teachers when they’d said education was her way out of poverty and she wasn’t going to lose her shot because of funding drying up.

The handsome prince in front of her knew nothing about suffering. She opted for the truth. “I’ve never seen 100 million dollars. I’ve probably never seen a thousand dollars unless you count a rent check that a few of my friends put together every month. I’m here on scholarship and loans, and I just got word that one of the programs has closed. I’m terrified of being stuck in this cycle no matter how hard I work. I don’t want another burn from heated oils making French fries.” She showed the healed scar on the inside of her wrist.

Jordan studied her so intently that she realized his brown eyes had flecks of gold. She’d never been this close to him before. She crossed her legs and waited for him to say something, anything.

Her body warmed. What did he see? It was true that they were different, but that could be a good thing considering the situation was temporary. If he agreed. She clasped her fingers over her knee.

Was he going to kick her out?

Finally, he opened his mouth and her heart leapt as she waited for every syllable that fell from his lips. “I’ll need you to move in here, to a separate bedroom of course, and we’ll have to dress you better.”

The words took a minute to process in her brain. The pedaling and her four-hour shift making coffee this morning hadn’t given her time to rest before coming here to present her plan. Her skin buzzed. He wasn’t kicking her out but taking her offer seriously. Her heart began to beat faster though she tugged on her clothes and held her nice shirt out slightly. “My jeans and t-shirt are perfectly clean. I washed everything before trekking over here.”

His gaze instantly narrowed. “Trekking? How did you get here?”

People like him had no idea that not everyone had a car or a yacht or whatever it was that he took to school every day. She released her shirt and looked down a little to see his reaction. “My bicycle is parked outside your building.”

He leaned back in his chair and massaged his temples. “Do you not have a car?”

Her nose wrinkled as she thought about her mother’s last car that seemed to always break down. Her mother sweated paying the insurance every month until it was finally cancelled. Martha pushed a strand of loose hair back and shook her head. “No, those cost too much. I can fix my bicycle if it’s broken.”

He made a tsk sound with his tongue that made her pay closer attention to his words. “Campus is at least 10 miles from here. How have I never seen you?”

“Actually, you have. Every week.”

She’d fantasized about him as he stood on the other side of the counter, looking effortlessly handsome in designer jeans, dark wavy hair falling over his forehead and that beard of his that hid his smile this semester only made him sexier, like a mountain man who could rescue her if they were stuck in the wilderness. She’d also dreamed that she might save him from some crazy person, or that he’d suddenly wake up and see her beauty, like in a fairy tale.

The reality was that he usually just nodded, no eye contact at all, and left the store with his coffee. Her face must be red because she was as hot as the burgers she overcooked during the lunch rush. “You order a mocha latte every Wednesday.”

He narrowed his eyes and leaned closer. “The coffee shop doesn’t sell French fries.”

Fair enough. He didn’t know anything about her. She hugged her waist, not wanting his pity. “I have three jobs while trying to keep up my grades.”

He shook his head. “Sarah—”

“Martha.” She looked up. He needed to know the right name to say during the vows. “My name is Martha.”

“Martha,” he amended. “I’ve never met anyone like you. I don’t know if I can trust you. You seem like a walking disaster, no offense.” He scratched at his beard. “But I need a temporary wife and a quick divorce.”

“I have no problems with that, Jordan.” Martha answered fast and held up her hand like she was going to be sworn in on a bible.

He pressed his thumbs together between his legs. “You’ll have to look and act the part of my wife which means quitting those jobs, and we’ll need to figure out a cover story.”

Quitting was a dream all on its own, but she’d talk to her managers. Perhaps she could come back once the month was over, just in case this didn’t work out. “A cover story?”

He stared at her again like she was some alien he’d just seen and not a girl one year behind him in school. His lips were almost in a sneer while he chose his words. “No one is going to buy that we decided to get married. The inheritance is clear that it can’t be a sham. So we’ll have to prove to my parents’ former lawyers that you and I are genuine. It would take a lot of work.”

Okay, he didn’t need to look so mean about that comment. Sure, she’d never gone to a salon that cost more than fifteen dollars to cut her hair, and even that seemed like a lot of money, but he didn’t need to be insulting. She massaged her neck and said, “You didn’t mention this to Jessica.”

He sat back, like he knew she’d been offended. “Jessica and I have gone to school together our entire lives. She’s met everyone I know. No one’s heard of Martha Vargas.”

Underneath their clothes, Martha was sure she was just as worthy as the bleached blonde with the sun-drenched skin from lazing around the pool. Well, Jessica probably had more curves, but she’d probably also never missed a meal. Martha was on the skinny side, though her hips and butt collected more than they should, but she wasn’t frail or pitiful looking. She was pretty normal with her brown hair and brown eyes.

She scooted closer to the edge of the couch. “I can pretend to be in love with you for thirty days as long as we both agree to keep our hands to ourselves and stay in separate bedrooms.”

He nodded his fast agreement. “That won’t be a problem, Martha.”

Her heart shrank in her chest, though it shouldn’t. She didn’t move, but this was the first conversation they’d had about sex and she wanted to be clear. “Why? Are you gay? If you are, that’s totally fine.”

He laughed, and his voice was like rich chocolate cake drenched in raspberry. “No. I’m not gay, but you’re not my type.”

Fair. She’d been the invisible woman in the green smock who made his latte. She stood. “Great. You’re not mine either.” Which was her first lie.

He rose and tapped one finger against his slightly thick bottom lip. “One more thing.”

Her body tingled, and she ignored that sensation as she looked away and asked, “Yeah?”

He crossed his arm and widened his stance while he stared at her up and down like she should obviously know what he’d say. She met his gaze and waited because she had no clue. “We’ll need a three-day window to even see if you can pass in my world.”

A trial was smart. She’d like to know she could do this and that it wasn’t just a stupid plan born of desperation. She shook his hand and electricity shot through her. “Why three days?”

He didn’t hide his perusal. “Hair, makeup, and clothes will take time. Saturday night I’ll take you to my brother’s wedding reception as my date. If you can pull that off, we’ll get married Monday morning and start the process.”

She knew he’d stared a second longer at her breasts than necessary. She didn’t call him out on it—after all, she’d been checking him out too. “Sounds like a plan. And I get one hundred million,” she paused at the incredible number, “like you promised Jessica?”

He placed his hand on the small of her back and walked her to the door. “One hundred million, plus keep the clothes, makeup, jewelry, car, and anything else I give you during our brief marriage.”

Her heart beat fast just because he was near, and he smelled better than any man she’d ever met. At the door she picked up her sneakers, curling her toes in her white and blue socks against the bamboo. “This is the best job ever.”

Who cared that they were from different universes? They were never going to be romantic, and in a month she’d be richer than she’d ever thought possible. It was enough to finish school and start a new life.

Jordan looked down at her feet and back up again and simply said, “We’ll see about that.”