Terms and Conditions (Dreamland Billionaires, #2)(4)

“Oh, look! It fits after all!” Tati claps her hands. I swear she only has two volume settings—loud and ear-splitting.

“He must have found some time in his busy schedule to finally have it resized.” My cheeks heat.

Declan pulls at the band once, testing the snugness before tucking his hand into his pocket.

I trace the diamond with a finger before giving the ring a pull. The band doesn’t budge at all. I clear my throat and force a smile. “I think it’s stuck.”

Go figure that Bethany had a smaller finger than mine. Can I catch any breaks tonight?

“In more ways than one,” his voice drops low enough for only me to hear it. Something about the depth of his voice sends another chill across my body. He steps out of my proximity, and I take a deep breath.

He readjusts his jacket. “Time to get on with this show.”

A show. Nothing more, nothing less. A fake marriage meant to save my boss from losing everything he has worked toward his entire life.

The thought sends a fresh wave of panic through me, much stronger than ever before. I try to tell myself it is only a marriage on paper, but nothing seems to ease the rapid beat of my heart.

Declan’s gaze clashes into mine as if he can sense my growing anxiety.

My reality sets in like a bad sunburn, and I find my ability to breathe becoming progressively more difficult with each second that passes.

I just signed myself up to help Declan—for better or for worse.

Till death do us part.





2





DECLAN


“I ’d like a moment to speak with my fiancée in private.” The words scrape against my tongue like sandpaper.

Iris’s eyes connect with mine. They widen before moving onto Cal in a silent plea for help. While her ability to read me like a polygraph machine makes her effective at her job, it is nothing but an inconvenience now.

Cal opens his mouth. Whatever look I send his way has him backing away slowly.

“See you both inside.” He gives Iris a half-assed salute before entering the ballroom.

The wedding planner checks the time on her watch. “I’ll be back in five minutes to grab you two. Don’t disappear on me again.” She winks before entering the kitchen.

My heart beats rapidly against my chest, and I attempt to take three deep breaths to slow the pace down.

You did tell her to find you anyone with an XX chromosome and the ability to procreate. You’re the only one to blame here.

I’m beyond the point of no return. Never did I think Iris would resort to this kind of plan without so much as asking me if I would agree. It’s a terrible idea that risks everything we have built together over the years.

Calm down.

One…two…

Fuck this.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

Iris doesn’t so much as bristle from my tone, although her full lips purse from distaste. “I’m saving your ass, that’s what.”

“I’m failing to see how that’s the case.”

“Would you like me to schedule you an eye exam? I hear vision gets worse with age.” Her usual joke about me being twelve years older than her falls flat.

My eyes narrow into slits. “Don’t test me.”

“And don’t you dare look at me that way.” She places a brown hand on her hip like a battle stance. The diamond on her finger stands out against her darker skin, drawing my attention to it. “If I didn’t step in then you would have had to explain to a room full of a hundred guests why there’s no blushing bride-to-be. What would you tell everyone? That she got lost in the mail?”

“No.” I grind my teeth together. “Although a mail-order bride seems like a better alternative at the moment.”

Her dark eyes damn near twinkle. “Face it. You’ve run out of time and options.”

“Clearly.” I give her a once-over glance.

Something flashes behind her eyes before disappearing. She lifts her chin ever so slightly in defiance while staring me straight in the eyes. “Way to make a girl feel special.”

“Special is the last word I would use to describe you.” It feels far too generic for someone like her.

She lets out a groan as she throws her hands in the air. “I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea.”

“That makes two of us. What exactly is your motive here?”

“I like you enough to want to save you from yourself. I’m sure it must be a chemical imbalance of some kind, so my therapist will be hearing all about this on Monday.”

I blink at her. “Don’t tell me you’re marrying me out of the goodness of your heart?”

Her dark brows pull together, and she stands taller. “So what if I am?”

“Cut the act. Those ideas only exist in Dreamland films.”

Her lips part. “I’m not acting, although your reaction makes me wish I was.”

Something about this whole thing isn’t sitting right. Why would Iris suddenly volunteer to be my wife after months of searching for a perfect candidate?

Because she didn’t want to see you marry someone else, the smallest voice in my head speaks up.

She couldn’t… No. There’s no way.

Or could it be?