Prologue

"It's time for you to settle down with someone, Bennett."

I looked up from where I was reclining on my VIG Chesterfield sofa, in the middle of a shift to avoid indenting the material, as I'd trained myself to do. My mother stood at the foot of it, giving me such a deep disapproving look that I nearly, almost made an effort to sit up properly. Her expression was the epitome of dissatisfaction. Thin nose turned up, demon red lips twitched. With a sigh, I let my cheek fall against the cool leather, knowing where this talk was going.

"This again?" I inquired.

"You're almost thirty, Bennett," she murmured, folding her arms across her chest, her many diamond-studded bracelets jingling as she moved361.

"You're almost thirty, Bennett," she murmured, putting her arms across her chest, her many diamond-studded bangles jingling as she moved. Her dark hair was wrapped in a tight bun on top of her head, giving her an overall stern appearance.

I cocked my brow at her. "I'm twenty-five years old. That's not even close to thirty, in my opinion."

"Your father and I married when we were twenty-two," she explained dryly. "It's past time for you to quit causing controversies and making our family look bad—"

"I don't ruin our family's reputation—"

"—And it's time for you to have your own family so we can give the next generation of our company a head start," she said.

I forced myself into a sitting position, making sure to smooth out my waistcoat, lest I gave her something else to complain about. "So you expect me to meet someone, fall in love with them, marry, and have children today? That is not how it works. Maybe it does now, with all the dating apps available, but I'm not like that."

"There are numerous young women who are interested in you. Cecil's daughter has been requesting your hand in marriage since you were five years old. She's also rather lovely."

I cocked my brow at her. "Legal arranged marriages are no longer practiced in the United States. The year is 2015, not 1765. I don't want to marry someone solely to benefit our business."

"You want a marriage built on love?" she questioned, her voice hardening. "To retain their fortune, wealthy families marry into other wealthy families. It's what our forefathers did before us and what we shall do in the future. It is how we keep our company going."

It was pointless to argue with her. "I'm just not interested in marriage right now."

She closed the small gap between us, hovering intimidatingly above me. "I've granted you twenty-five years of liberty. I've provided you with everything you've ever desired. All I ask is that you compensate me by promising to keep our company running."

"And I will, just not right now," I stated emphatically. The company was not going anywhere for a long time. We were like the new Hiltons. What was it that was bothering her? Why was she now attempting to impose this on me?

"You no longer have an option in this situation. If you don't calm down, I'll take your car and house."

"My house and my car are mine. You can't intimidate me in that way."

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My mother's wicked smile sent shivers down my spine. "Do you think I won't figure something out?"

I knew she wasn't joking, as much as I wished she was. I jumped from the sofa, my hand over my pocket, where the keys were. "Wait a minute."

"What are you waiting for?"

"Isn't this a little sudden? I need some time to think about it. You can't just go in and expect me to agree to this."

"It shouldn't surprise you, Bennett. It is something you can thank your brother for."

My body was flooded with heat. I clenched my hands so tightly that my fingernails dug into the skin of my palm. I warned myself not to fall for it. She only desired that I back down.

And she was aware of where it stung the most.

"Your brother wouldn't bother me like this."

"How are you going to use Lee against me?" I said firmly.

"It's all up to you, Bennett."

"I'll... I'll find someone," she says. I didn't have much of a choice. I just had to figure out how to get out of it. Quickly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Good."

"But, I'd want to give you a year."

Her pupils constricted. "A year? For what purpose?"

"I'd prefer to meet someone on my own. In a year, I'll bring her to you and we'll talk about marriage. You can't expect me to meet someone and marry her on the spur of the moment, can you? Let me to meet with a few of the other prospects first."

When my mother considered my suggestion, the room fell silent. Sweat was gathering on the back of my neck. If she'd only agree to my plan, I'd have more time to figure out what to do about the ultimatum she'd issued. What could I argue against her if she said no when she used Lee as leverage?

"Six months," she said finally.

"Six?"

"You could have six months to court someone," she said. "Not for another day. When the time is over, you must bring the girl of your choice before me, and I will decide whether or not she may marry into our family. If she fails, you'll marry anybody I want."

Of course, there would be requirements. Conditions were always present. "OK," I said, knowing she'd get her way anyhow. I had no choice but to take what I could get.

She smiled as the lines on her brow softened. "Good. You are free to keep your car. Be certain that you arrive at work today. There is someone you must fire."

"I understand," I said as I saw her turn on her heel and click away from me.

I sank back onto the sofa as soon as she departed, feeling a headache building on. Why was she so set on marriage? I was completely satisfied with the way I was spending my life—satisfactory and alone. I had no desire for a girlfriend. Even if I had any of those requirements, I could find a willing companion at the neighborhood bar.

For the time being, I needed to find someone who could fool my mother into thinking she was my girlfriend. It wouldn't be too difficult. It's not like I lacked the physical attractiveness to persuade someone to do it. I was featured on the covers of several business journals. I knew I was a wonderful catch because of my conditioned nice and pleasant nature. If that wasn't enough, I'd simply show them my bank account.

If only money could buy me a girlfriend, I wished.

Then it struck me.

The strategy was straightforward. Locate a woman, pay her to date me for six months, stage a break-up just before bringing her to meet my mother, and then pretend I was too distraught to move on. That way, I wouldn't be compelled to marry a stranger and could remain single until I met the one I was destined to be with. My mother would pity her son who was experiencing his first heartbreak. It would be simple.

I smiled to myself as I adjusted my tie.

Let the games begin.