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“Okay to the bodyguard, or okay to the deal?” I asked.

“Okay to both, assuming you agree to my condition that I can tell Jo the truth. Otherwise, I walk.”

I scoffed. “You’d walk away from twenty million dollars over that?”

She met my gaze. Hard. Unflinching. “Yeah. I would.”

Well, shit.I believed her. And that only made me respect her even more.

I debated my options. While I didn’t want to tell any more people than absolutely necessary, this was important to Lily. If she thought her friend’s support would bolster the believability of our relationship, then so be it.

“You can tell her it’s a business deal, but you are not to tell her anything about why I need a wife.”

“Agreed.” She stood, smoothing her palms down her skirt. “Unless there’s anything else, I should get back to my room so I can pack and figure out what to tell Jo.”

I pushed off the couch to join her, appreciating her efficiency and decisiveness. “Then we have a deal.” I held out my hand.

She placed hers in mine, her skin roughened from hard work, her grip sure and steady. “Congratulations, Mr. Mackenzie. You’ve got yourself a fiancée.”

CHAPTERELEVEN

When we arrived on the tarmac at the private airport in LA the following afternoon, a set of matching Audi A8s were waiting for us, along with two drivers. I glanced at Graham as he held out his hand to assist me down the last few steps of the aircraft.

“Thank you.” I tried not to think about the fact that I was touching him. And in less than forty-eight hours, I’d be married to him.

Married. To Graham.

I tried to tell myself it would all work out. Once we were married, I wouldn’t have to worry about funding for the château. But the idea of walking down the aisle set my heart galloping.

Graham signaled to one of the drivers, and she stepped forward. “Lily, this is Willow. She’ll be protecting you.”

I was grateful I was wearing sunglasses so I could scan her surreptitiously. She was about six feet tall, built like a rugby player, and wearing the prettiest shade of pink lipstick I’d ever seen.

“Hi,” I said, holding out my hand. “Nice to meet you, Willow.”

“You too,” she said then returned to the car to give Graham and me some privacy.

“I have some business to attend to, but I arranged for my stylist to meet you at my penthouse. Jay will help you prepare for everything we have coming up.”

Graham’s cryptic wording had me wondering if he was referring to our secret wedding or something more. I knew what Graham’s calendar was like—or at least, what it had been like two years ago. And I didn’t imagine that much had changed. He often attended events around the city for various charities. Events I’d now be expected to attend with him, as his wife.

Would people view me as a trophy wife? A gold digger?

The truth was far more salacious.

I wondered what people would think if they knew that Graham had given me twenty million dollars to pretend to be his wife and help him secure his legacy.

It still seemed like an extreme move on his part, but I knew he’d do anything to protect his family’s brand.

I rested my sunglasses on top of my head. “Okay. Sure. Did you want to give me a new passcode?” I’d visited his penthouse a few times while I’d been in his employ. Each time, I’d needed a different eight-digit passcode.

He shook his head. “I upgraded my home security last year. All you have to do is place your thumb on the keypad, and the door will unlock.”

“Wow. Okay.” That was incredibly high-tech. And then I frowned. “Don’t we need to program my prints?”

“It’s already done.”

“But—” My mouth opened and closed.