Page 31 of My Big, Fat, Accidental Billionaire Husband

Yet she carries herself with a composure that’s almost irritating. I’ve seen board members with less poise under pressure.

“Ready to sign your life away?” I ask as she sets down her suitcase.

“For thirty days only,” she replies smoothly. “And at a premium rate.”

I grin, pretending to be unfazed. “That’s the spirit.”

Arthur hands her the tablet. “The revised agreement, Ms. Cole. All changes have been implemented as discussed.”

She takes her time reading through it, scrolling carefully through each section. I admire her thoroughness. Too many people sign whatever I put in front of them without reading the fine print.

“The advance?” she asks without looking up.

“Processing now,” I confirm. “You’ll have it in the account you supplied before we leave the ground.”

She nods, still reading. Finally, she looks up. “Everything appears to be in order.”

“Then let’s make it official,” I say.

We both sign electronically, and just like that, our fake marriage has terms and conditions. Thirty days of pretending, two encounters of pleasure, and half a million dollars when it’s all over.

“Congratulations,” Arthur says dryly. “You’re now officially in a contractual marriage.”

Tatiana shoots him a look that could freeze hell. “How romantic.”

“Speaking of romance,” I interject, checking my watch, “Marco’s reception is in full swing. We should go.”

“Our first public appearance as husband and wife,” she says with forced cheerfulness. “Can’t wait.”

As predicted, the paparazzi are swarming the hotel lobby. Jake leads our security team, clearing a path. Camilla has arranged for the hotel’s security to assist, forming a human corridor for us to walk through.

“Keep your head up,” I murmur to Tatiana as we step into the gauntlet. “Look confident.”

To her credit, she doesn’t flinch at the barrage of flashes and shouted questions.

“Dominic! Tatiana! Over here!”

“When did you two start dating?”

“Was this planned or a Vegas impulse?”

“Tatiana! Did you know who he was when you met?”

I place my hand on the small of her back, guiding her through the chaos. She stiffens slightly at my touch but doesn’t pull away.

Good girl.

The limo is waiting, engine running. Ric holds the door open. Once we’re inside, the chaos muffled by tinted windows and thick doors, Tatiana exhales sharply.

“Is it always like this?” she asks.

“Sometimes worse,” I reply. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I sincerely hope I don’t have to.”

The drive to Marco’s wedding venue is short but tense. Tatiana stares out the window, and I can practically hear her thoughts racing. She’s in over her head, we both are, but I have to admire how she’s handling it.

“Listen,” I say as we approach the venue. “Marco is one of my oldest friends. I was supposed to be in his wedding party today, but obviously that didn’t happen.”

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