Work weekend in Vegas. It was great until I was mistaken for a call girl. I’m in a business suit and my buttons are to my neck. And the guy… turns out he’s Jacob. My actual client. Except I’m on team #ReformtheBadBoy. It’s why I was hired.

Now I had to convince Jacob my well thought out ad plan was what he needed.

But he believes he knows best and a good wife would solve his problems.

And the worst part, he offered me the job.

I should probably just leave, but his kisses are electrifying.

And a walk on the wild side was probably way overdue for me. But when I wake up with a ring on my hand and being shuffled to his answer to fixing his life, I’m getting confused.

This isn’t a business deal. This isn’t happily ever after we dated a while and he proposed.

But Jacob set my soul on fire when he’s unintentionally charming.

Do I cut and run or do I stay and find out what happens next? Because honestly I never expected any of it.

Indigo

I, Indigo Steel, never believed in romance or love or any of that nonsense. I knew better. I thought my sisters all thought the same thing.

Until Georgie married her baseball player without inviting me to her wedding last week.

Through a strange twist, here I was, in Vegas, staying in the same hotel, to meet a client for work. And I wanted to stroll past the wedding pavilion my sister had sent pictures from of her elopement.

Georgie had always been the emotional one in the family—though the vow to never get married had been her idea.

Another of my sisters, Stephanie, had also decided to forget that discussion, apparently, because she was planning her wedding. At least I was invited to London for that one.

For now, I made it to the gondola rides in the Venetian hotel and watched all the couples kissing.

Gross. Public displays of affections really needed to stay behind closed doors. Yeah, I get it. I was born in the wrong century. But whenever I checked my phone and remembered how much I enjoyed technology, I knew I’d never want to live at another time.

I guess what bothered me about seeing couples on the boats kiss each other was that they were obviously both pretending not to see that we’re all flawed and imperfect and there are no soulmates.

Love wasn’t real. It was a justification for lust to be socially acceptable to our peers. My phone beeped and I read the message: I’ll meet you in an hour.

Perfect. My team was great. We’d win this client and head back to Pittsburgh right away. My boss was going to retire, and if I won this client, I’d be the CEO of the entire advertising company.

I’d also be the youngest CEO ever and the first woman. Goals I’d check off my list of accomplishments. I could handle this. I typed a reply as I walked away from the silly water ride. We can’t do anything until the client arrives. If Mr. Ruthless shows early, I need you back as soon as possible.

Before any meeting, I always took a short walk. It helped me clear my head and focus on my pitch, but I wrote back, If he shows up early, I’ll text you 911.

I headed into the square that was designed to be like St. Mark’s square in Venice. It was full of people, just like my experience in the real place, but half of the tourists here had the glazed eyes that came from spending too many hours gambling.

As for the square itself, though, all that was lacking were the Italian guys serenading my American face as I walked down the street.

In six months my sister would be getting married and I’d head to London for that. Maybe I’d also return to the real Italy and score another gelato while I checked in on one of my clients there.

I also missed that smell of the water and old city that Vegas could never recreate.

A deep voice called out behind me, “Hello, beautiful.”

I turned on my high heels and stared at a dark-haired handsome man with a wicked smile.

Now fuck. He’d be up for the perfect man in my next fantasy life, when I was safe in bed, alone. For now, I was happy he was five feet away and in the doorway of the café, as people who seemed almost blurry passed in front of him. Wide shoulders, muscles and a dimple made the man hypnotizing. I placed my hand on my hip and said, “Sorry. What did you say?”

I wasn’t sorry at all and I had heard him clearly enough. He thought I was pretty. But I wasn’t interested.

Then he took a step closer to me and adrenaline rushed through me as he said, “You’re perfect, I think.”

Walk now, my mind screamed, but goosebumps grew on my body and desire overtook me fast. I ignored the sensation as well as I could and asked, “For what?”

He perused my body and my black-with-green-trim business suit as he said, “For my need of a wife.”

I laughed. Now that was the funniest thing I’d ever heard. Me, a wife. Once I caught my breath, I realized those brown eyes of his were almost magnetic. I shook my head. “Wow. Just like that? You don’t know anything about me.”

He took my hand. “I have an instinct. And you’re sexy as hell.”

My makeup was to impress my client, not this man who sent a thrill up my arm from a simple touch. “Well, I haven’t heard flirting in awhile. If you keep talking like that, I’ll sit for a minute.”

He walked me into the cafe with him and said, “Then let’s get you a drink.”

This was all nonsense, but soon real life would barge in. I was here in Vegas to reform a bad boy businessman who’d pay for a corporate makeover. And while this man was attractive, who the fuck knew if he was a psycho or something equally bad? I went with him to his table with the white cloth, near the window to the square, and said, “No drinking for me. I have to meet a client.”

His lips curled and showed off his dimples as he asked, “Are you a call girl?”

With my buttons up to my neck? I focused on him and crossed my arm under my chest like I’d bolt out of there. “Seriously? Are you drunk? Is that what’s going on? I’m in a business suit.”

His knee tapped mine under the table and he winked at me. “Well, honestly, with those thigh-high stockings you’re wearing, I figured I’d give it a shot.”

My eyes widened as I asked, “How did you know?”

He folded his hands in front of him. “Laser-sharp focus for beautiful women. It’s been a problem for me.”

Like my client. It’s why I was going to suggest to Mr. Ruthless he refrain from being photographed with another woman for the next few years. I shifted my legs to stand up and I shrugged. “I see. Well, I should probably get going. But it was nice to meet you.”

He reached out and placed his hand on mine as he said, “Wait. I’ve been sitting here for over two hours waiting to figure out what kind of woman I need to marry, and you’re the only one that struck me as exactly right.”

Yet I was not looking to add Mrs. anything to my name. Indigo Steel was a great name. Though I often just signed I. Steel to everything, which made people not realize I was a woman. Then I knocked them out with my brilliance.

I stood, ready to get going to my meeting, and my shoulder bounced once as I said, “But I’m not looking for a husband. I enjoyed the flirting. But I have to get to work.”

I turned to leave, but he followed and asked, “What is it you do?”

This was like Italy, with the teasing and flirting. Guess I’d gotten to relive those memories of years ago after all.

“I’m here to pitch an idea for work,” I said.

He walked beside me out of the restaurant and put his hands in his pockets as he said, “Well, if it matters to you, I can pay enough so you don’t have to work ever again.”

“Why?”

“I need to win.”

“I don’t gamble.”

“It’s not about the slots. It’s about wresting control of a business empire once and for all.”

Sounded like a lot of work—and the type I’m not qualified to do.

I also had no interest in being any man’s wife. And the closest thing I had to a maternal instinct was buying my nephew the loudest gifts I could at Christmas, just to annoy my sister.

Besides all that, he clearly wanted sex, and I wasn’t into either scenario. He’d star in my dreams only. I generally found that not being involved with anyone was better for me. I shrugged as I kept up my pace. “Good luck. I’m still not a call girl.”

He playfully bounced into me and my pulse quickened when he said, “Not as a one-night thing. As my wife.”

Impossible. I had no idea why I was suddenly all breathy. As I stared at him, I decided it was his handsome, tall, muscular frame. He turned me on physically, clearly. I said, “I don’t even know your name.”

I slowed as he said, “Jacob.”

Same name as Mr. Ruthless. His real name was Jacob B. Donovan. Most people had no idea that Donovan meant “warrior,” but after reading my future client’s issues, I’d given him the moniker “ruthless,” as that fit his personality.

In the pictures I’d glanced at, Donovan was a handsome man, like this stranger. But there was no way a man fishing for a wife in a hotel lobby was Mr. Ruthless. My client was corporate. And he was in the process of hiring a PR firm—me—to fix his image. The idea was ludicrous, so I let it go as I said, “Common enough first name, I guess.”

He asked, “And yours?”

“Indigo,” I said. I had no idea why I wanted to talk to this Jacob. I definitely wasn’t interested in him. I wasn’t into one-night stands, or even dating, if I’m honest.

Sexy men like him put me off-center, and I hate being out of control. The men I’d gone out with ended up boring me to sleep, every time. Lately, I’d started offering suggestions to the men I’d been set up with on how they could brand themselves differently so people might take them seriously, as a way to end the date.

I was good at fixing corporate disasters.

He walked me to the elevator banks that led up to the conference rooms, not the hotel rooms, as he said, “Unusual.”

I pressed the button to go up to my meeting now. “No, just old-fashioned. Which I clearly am.”

He leaned against the wall and his gaze smoldered. Damn. I wasn’t this weak. Then he asked, “Well, how much would it cost for you to be my bride?”

I swallowed and stared at myself in the shiny, fake gold elevator doors. “You sound serious.”

I listened to the machine noises and ignored my body’s awareness of Jacob as he said, “I am.”

This wasn’t real. I fought down the butterflies in my chest that made me slightly off-center with him and said, “I don’t want a lifetime with a stranger.”

He crossed his arms and looked down at me. I swear he could see through my clothes to my black lacy bra, which I’d only worn to make myself feel good.

“Two years,” he said, “with a maximum of five. How much would it cost for you to live with me in my mansion for that long?”

My face heated. This had to be a Vegas bet he was part of. I shouldn’t have my panties twisted when I envisioned this man in my bed. I said, “Mansion? Yeah, okay. You’re probably dirt poor.”

The elevator was almost here. I could tell from the rumbling that was building in intensity, almost matching my fantasies of Jacob.

“So, indulge me with a number.”

I knew I shouldn’t indulge him in this, but maybe that was the bet. The truth was, I’d need a fortune to meet all of my responsibilities and make all my dreams happen. If I answered, he’d go away. I stared at him and didn’t blink my blue eyes. “Twenty-five million for five years. I figure five million a year.”

He snapped his fingers. “Done.”

The elevator doors opened and I stepped inside as I said, “Yeah, okay. Look this was fun but I have to go.”

He leaned into the elevator for a moment and said, “Indigo, you are exactly what I need, so I’ll find you soon to finalize this deal.”

The hotel was huge. Who knew how many people milled around the whole strip? I pressed my button and said, “Right. Okay.”

My phone hadn’t gone off to say Mr. Ruthless had arrived, but it wouldn’t hurt to be early. I closed my eyes as I rode up in the elevator.

Maybe my sisters were the hearts and flowers and happily-ever-after types. Or they believed in true love instant spark, like my parents did. But I wasn’t ever going to be anything like either of my parents.

I’d learned from my past.

The doors opened and I headed into the conference room where Ajax and my cousin and assistant, Jasmine, waited for me.

My team had set up the displays, printed the proposal and organized the conference room.

They’d even set out glasses of water. All was perfect. Jasmine handed me my hot green tea as she said, “Indigo, there you are.”

I nodded at her and put my tea down in front of my chair as I said, “Hi. I was waylaid. Some drunk in a bar asked me to marry him. I said I would for twenty-five million.”

Ajax fixed his glasses, though his tie was still crooked, as he said, “This is Vegas, anything is possible. Maybe he was some billionaire like Jacob Donovan.”

Ajax was just out of college. I’d train him to handle his own accounts eventually, but he wasn’t ready yet. Now, Jasmine was the perfect assistant and had no desire to move up as she wasn’t sure she wanted the responsibilities.

I’d never had that luxury. I pointed to Ajax and Jasmine helped him with the tie. I think she liked my new apprentice.

“Yeah, right,” I said. “He was probably just some gambler and asking me to name a number for some stupid bet going on somewhere.”

This was Vegas, after all.

Jasmine fixed Ajax’s tie, so we were all good. As we took our seats, she said, “It would be nice to have twenty-five million dollars.”

I flipped through my script to refresh my talking points as I said, “I guess. My inheritance let me buy a condo in Pittsburgh, but I need to work to pay the rest of the bills.”

I’d pushed some of that money from my parents’ insurance at my sister Georgie for a while, but she didn’t need the money now.

Ajax said, “Your new brother-in-law plays professional baseball, though.”

Huh? How did he bring up Georgie and Michael? I raised my eyebrow and said, “Yeah? What’s the point?”

Jasmine said, “So, it would be fun if you and I could go meet some baseball players. Like, the single kind.”

Ajax’s face went red as he said, “I meant maybe we can land his team’s account. I’d love to work for a baseball team, and get into sports advertising and negotiating celebrity endorsements.”

“Ajax, that’s not my specialty, but we can see—when you’re ready to take on your own clients, and do more market research.” He was clearly young still. I added, “And Jasmine, since we’re family, we’ll have to talk to Georgie and see if she can set you up with a ball player. Next time you see her, ask her yourself.”

My sister and her son were so happy these days. I’d not ask for favors for myself, but Jasmine could.

“You’re the best!” she said.

Ajax’s lips thinned.

I had zero time for whatever was going on between my assistants. I checked that the proposal was up to date and said, “Now we need to convince Jacob Donovan of that, so he knows our plan is his best shot to save his image, and his company.”

I read through my proposal. Mr. Ruthless destroyed companies for breakfast and his name was pretty generally hated, even in the billionaire crowd. He’d exploit weakness whenever it suited him. But then he’d been caught up in a sex scandal. He’d been at a party with a now-known sexual predator who trafficked women. The picture of him and the guy having drinks with scantily clad women around him made his investors flee.

The good thing was that he wasn’t actually involved in that case. The party was the first and only time they’d met. The picture had been damaging, but if Ruthless followed my plan, he’d be free of this scandal in no time.

He’d hire me and my team for this.

I was sure of myself. I could fix this disaster. I was good at my job.