Page 1 of Fake Engagement Arrangement (Wilde Billionaire Brothers #1)

Mollie was at the reception desk at the beauty clinic, looking at the latest cancellation on the computer diary.

This was the third cancellation this week, and it was only Wednesday.

And all of them were her clients. The economy was suffering, and as a result so was she. But wasn’t that the story of her life.

It could have been so different if you had married Jago Wilde …

The thought drifted into her head, and she quickly shoved it away, like slamming a door on an unwelcome guest. Too many times that wayward thought would catch her off guard, torturing her with what could have been.

Two years had passed, and still, every day she thought of Jago.

Every day and every night. She still found herself reaching for him in her bed.

No one had taken his place and she wondered if anyone ever would.

She was trying to break herself of the habit of thinking of him, but her dire financial circumstances kept reminding her of what she could have had if she hadn’t jilted him.

Money. Security. Safety. A sense of connection she had never felt in her life before him.

The salon door opened, and Mollie looked up from the computer with a welcoming smile, hoping it was a walk-in client to fill her empty hour, only for her smile to freeze on her face like a wax model.

Her blood chilled to ice in her veins, her hands trembled, her heart thumped, and her breath halted.

It couldn’t be him. It couldn’t be real.

She must be hallucinating. Was it really Jago Wilde standing there?

Was it a trick of her brain, an apparition brought on by the stress she was under with her worries over her younger brother?

She opened and closed her mouth but couldn’t get her voice to work.

It was rare for her to be lost for words.

Rare for her not to be able to stand up for herself, but the circumstances surrounding her break-up with Jago brought hot shame ripening on her cheeks like blood red apples.

How could she face him without triggering the feelings she had tried to smother with work and responsibilities?

How could she see him without breaking her agreement with his powerful grandfather?

Jago gave a cynical twist of his mouth that passed for a smile, his dark blue eyes scanning her like a laser beam.

‘Got a minute for a chat?’ His deep, mellifluous voice stroked down her spine like the caress of his warm, broad-spanned hand.

Oh, how she had missed his voice. That gorgeous baritone with its crisp English accent that spoke of wealth and privilege from the cradle.

The way his voice matched his appearance and yet tall, dark and handsome was an understatement.

His movie star good looks were beyond traffic-stopping: he could stop a meteor mid-descent.

The way he carried himself with confidence, assurance of his place in the world, and yes, even a generous dose of the legendary Wilde arrogance was etched in the landscape of his features.

The jet-black hair, the slash of prominent eyebrows, the deep-set, intelligent eyes that could melt stone.

The sculptured lips that could break into an easy smile that could make a marble statue’s legs tremble, let alone Mollie’s.

But Jago wasn’t smiling at her now. The cynical slant on his mouth didn’t reach his eyes, and it made her stomach clench like a fist.

Mollie was relieved her boss wasn’t in that day because Shelagh discouraged personal visits at the clinic.

Mollie’s job was already hanging by a gossamer thread because of all the days she had taken off to rescue her brother Eliot from yet another disaster.

She couldn’t lose her job over Jago Wilde—that would be the ultimate humiliation.

‘I have back-to-back clients,’ Mollie said, holding his gaze with an effort.

‘I’m expecting my next one any minute now.

’ Turns out she was a stellar liar. Years of being shunted from foster home to foster home had honed her skills in mendacity to the point where sometimes she even convinced herself she was telling the truth.

Like that she no longer loved Jago Wilde.

She didn’t miss him or want him any more.

That she didn’t regret signing that wretched agreement written by his autocratic grandfather, Maxwell Wilde, who had been keen to get her out of his grandson’s life before she soiled it and the Wilde name with her trailer trash background.

If she hadn’t thought there was truth in what Maxwell believed, that she would indeed taint the man she had loved, she would have fought and fought hard.

She wasn’t a quitter, hence the years of chasing after her brother, searching for him in dark, shadowy, murderous alleyways, paying off his drug debts to keep him out of prison or worse.

Holding the basin while he was hideously ill after an all-night bender.

Doing all she could to make up for what she had failed to do when they were children.

Jago’s eyes penetrated hers like a powerful searchlight, an inscrutable glint showing in his. ‘Have a drink with me after work.’

It was typical that Jago commanded rather than asked, and it was also typical Mollie was tempted to obey his command.

Just to see what he had to say. Just to spend a few minutes in his company to prove to herself she was finally over him.

That she could be in his presence for half an hour and not want him feverishly.

He was standing on the other side of the reception counter, close enough for her to see the midnight blue of his eyes and the ink-black lashes that framed them.

His eyes had always fascinated, captivated and entranced her.

They were an unusual navy shade reminding her of a deep ocean with unknowable depths.

She could pick up the exotic spice and woodsy notes of his aftershave, and she had to stop her nostrils from flaring to take in more of his addictive smell.

Her eyes moved from his to glance at his mouth.

Big mistake. His mouth was her kryptonite.

One kiss from his lips when they first met had made her stomach somersault and her pulse race out of control.

She had never been able to resist those tantalising and skilful lips.

She had felt them on every inch of her body, and being in his presence again triggered a storm of need in her flesh, and she had a feeling he knew it.

His mouth was sensually contoured with evenly full lips and a well-defined philtrum ridge like he had been designed by a master sculptor.

He hadn’t shaved in a couple of days, and she suppressed a shiver as she remembered how those sexy bristles felt against her soft skin.

But his face had changed since they had parted.

He now had a deep line carved between his prominent brows as if he had spent a lot of time frowning over the last two years.

And his thick black hair was longer than it used to be and brushed back from his face in a careless manner, as if he had run his fingers through it recently.

Mollie gripped the counter that divided them in an effort to control her hands from reaching out to touch him, to see if the electric energy was still there when they touched skin-on-skin.

But she could feel it anyway—the tightening of the atmosphere as if all the oxygen particles had shifted.

A galaxy of dust motes of desire circling between them.

A palpable current in the air that made it almost impossible for her to hide the affect he was having on her.

But hide it she did.

Mollie gave him an arch look. ‘A drink? Is that all you want, Jago?’

His eyes darkened to pools of blue ink, glinting, measuring, unwavering. ‘I have a proposal for you.’

Her brows rose in a haughty manner. ‘Not another one?’

A dark gleam shone in his eyes as they held hers. ‘This one you would be a fool not to accept.’ There was a hard edge to his voice that hinted at the bitterness that still simmered in his veins. Bitterness her actions had caused.

In spite of her misgivings about spending any more time in his company, Mollie was tempted to hear him out.

What sort of proposal did he have in mind?

And what would happen if his elderly grandfather found out they had met up again?

The agreement she had signed with Maxwell Wilde had forbidden her from ever contacting Jago and from ever explaining to him why she had jilted him the day before their wedding.

Forbidden her from speaking to the press for a tell-all interview.

Forbidden her to tell Jago about the AI-generated sextortion she was a victim of and how Jago’s grandfather had presented her with an ultimatum to make it all go away.

Maxwell could make the AI images of her disappear, but she had to disappear too.

She had been paid handsomely to go away, and go away she had—all the way to Scotland.

She would have gone farther if not for her brother.

But of course, the money had eventually run out due to her brother’s chronic addiction and mental health issues, and she was starting to wonder if any amount of money would save him from the same self-destruction of their mother.

But Eliot was her only living relative, and she would do anything and everything in her power to save him.

He was currently on another long stint in a rehab centre, and it had drained every penny from her bank account to keep him there.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten a proper meal.

Beans on toast or instant noodles had been her only source of nutrition and would be until her next pay cheque…

if her boss didn’t let her go due to the downturn in business.

‘How did you find me?’ Mollie asked in a cool tone that belied the tumult of her emotions.