Chapter One

Kate Von Lichtenstein was desperate for a man. Worse, she was desperate for a husband. Unfortunately, she had no other choice but to marry before the paparazzi learned the exact amount she’d recently inherited.

In any other circumstance, inheriting billions for no other reason than being the only—not to mention favorite—grandchild of octogenarians with a vast fortune, would be a windfall.

But not to Kate. No, a fortune of this magnitude only meant one thing—fortune hunters would be on her doorstep in no time... even a best-case scenario had her envisioning a marriage of political or economic gain to bolster her father’s run for office.

However, she had standards and plans. She wouldn’t auction herself off to the first bloke to catch her eye. Instead, she’d take things into her own hands and marry whom she desired. Looks were a plus. As were intelligence, humor, and...Dear Lord.

She was auctioning them off, like prized stallions.

The comparison left a bitter taste in her mouth, but what other choice did she have? The press had hounded her from the time she was sixteen, an age, she supposed, that they felt was old enough to stalk and spy upon her without drawing too much criticism.

It had always been her lot in life, due to her family’s political connections and vast fortune, so she honestly didn’t have the right to complain. But she wanted to. She hated having her privacy violated. Hated the fact that she couldn’t go places without an escort hovering at the edges. Hated the fact that she had no choice what family she’d been born into.

And now... just the simple fact that she was a single woman inheriting billions of dollars without any strings attached would send them into frenzy. But she would persevere with grace and silence until she found the suitable man that would solve her problem, because that was what Von Lichtensteins had done for centuries to survive. Survived, they had, through multiple kingdoms, revolutions, and beheadings.

Her father claimed it was because the family kept secrets for royalty and fellow aristocrats. Secrets that were kept with the understanding that should something ever happen to a Von Lichtenstein, then the world would know of their perfidy.

Now her family kept secrets for the ultra-rich as well, and partnered with Romanov Industries to do so. Only she hadn’t been allowed to work for the firms, and since finding a job that would hire an heiress without real work experience was next to zero, she’d been forced to become a socialite.

Poor, little rich girl, she thought wryly.

Honestly, she wouldn’t be in this predicament, if Sebastian had only fallen in love with her instead—

She gave herself a mental shake and settled into her chair, giving the nearly full table of dinner companions a small smile. It wasn’t Sebastian’s fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.

A hushed murmur overtook the room as the bride and groom walked inside the ballroom that had been transformed into a beautiful, fairy-tale kingdom.

Kate’s heart beat furiously against her chest as the man she loved passed by her table with his heart on his sleeve.

But not for her.

Never again for her.

If Sebastian had ever loved her at all.

Perhaps as children, he’d felt some affection for her, but even then, he’d remained distant and closed-off. Even then, he’d kept a part of himself from her, never fully hers. But she hadn’t stopped trying to matter to him, hadn’t stopped trying to be the woman he wanted, until he met the one who’d finally stolen his heart. Though she doubted very much stolen was the right term.

Knowing Sebastian like she did, his heart had already been locked in an iron chest and protected by walls of un-scalable heights until he’d chosen to give it to his bride.

Not Kate.

Yet, even with that knowledge, she’d remained his friend. Had come to this wedding ... one in which the bride not only glowed from the love she had for the groom but because she was also pregnant with his child.

Her heart pinched in her chest. Why had she done that to herself?

The sound of forks lightly hitting glasses caused Sebastian and Daisy to stop. So did Kate’s heart. They turned to one another, tender smiles on their faces, and kissed. It was lovely and beautiful and made Kate want to sigh a little in happiness.

But she couldn’t.

It felt as though the walls were closing in on her, squeezing her so tightly that she could scarcely breathe. Panic clawed at her insides, and she clenched her hands into tight fists. She would not cause a scene by breaking down in front of everyone, especially over a childhood crush.

Smile. Be gracious. Be kind. Be brave.

She had chanted those words over and over in her head during the entire ceremony. They had become so loud that she couldn’t hear the reciting of the vows, the promise to love and cherish.

Thank goodness.

For a wild moment, the urge to escape this beautiful nightmare nearly made her jump to her feet and run away. She took a deep breath, mentally chastising herself for such cowardly thoughts. Besides, where could she run and to whom?

Someone pulled the chair beside her out from the table and sat down. The scent of a sun-warmed spice with a hint of something she could only describe as male washed over her, and her stomach tumbled to her toes.

However, she didn’t have the time to waste small talk on her closest dinner companion, no matter how attractive he smelled, unless he could possibly be the—she bit her lip—this was mortifying.

A light touch on her bare shoulder made her stiffen. “Excuse me?”

Gathering her thoughts, Kate attempted to take a breath and rein in her emotions without anyone becoming any the wiser. “Just a moment, please,” she said softly, pleased that her voice didn’t betray her.

A large hand held out a napkin to her, just in her line of vision so that she didn’t have to turn or look up. “I think you need this,” he said softly.

His voice was low, American and...familiar. It couldn’t be him, could it? She hadn’t seen Noah in ages, not since that night in Holland Springs when he’d charmed her with talk of house building after Zoe and Christian’s wedding.

Noah Sawyer was tall and lean with dark hair and even darker eyes. His face ruggedly handsome, lips full, and the most stubborn-looking jaw. He exuded confidence and power even while his excitement seemed to make him come alive, and he wore a suit in such a way that made her knees weak.

All in all, he was a sexy, charming man who’d made her feel special for one night. Though nothing more had happened between them, it felt as though something had happened. A connection had been made.

Slowly, she turned to him. Somehow, a smile found its way to her mouth. “It is you.” Warmth filled her, displacing all the nasty coldness that had threatened to lay her bare. She took the napkin from him and clutched it tightly. “Seems we’re always meeting this way...at weddings.”

“Duchess, it’s always a pleasure to see you. No matter the circumstances,” Noah murmured, the nickname he’d give her so many years ago rolling off his tongue in such a way that it made her slightly dizzy. His dark-eyed gaze appraised her before he leaned close. “You look like you could use some fresh air.”

“I don’t...” She swallowed. Everyone would see. Everyone would suspect that she was upset and—

“Hell, I could use some fresh air with a beautiful woman. Unless you think I’m suggesting something too improper?” he continued on in that whisky-tinged drawl she adored. “Besides, we haven’t seen each other in three years. Too damned long, don’t you think?”

He winked, and her heart fluttered. In that moment, she found the answer to her dilemma.

***

When Noah first walked into the ballroom, he immediately spotted Kate. Not the easiest thing to do considering how crowded the place was. But when the Romanovs decided to go all out, they went big.

Sometimes, he wondered if the Romanovs were from his home state of Texas instead of Russia. His grandparents would have certainly gotten a kick out of all this wasteful spending.

And there was his dad’s influence, he thought. Who cared what other people spent their money on? However, his father judged a man by his wallet, or rather how he spent the money in his wallet, and he’d just done the exact same thing.

It chafed every time he realized how much like his father he could be. But the old man had standards. Standards that Noah felt like he could never reach, not even when an investment in a start-up had made him millions.

Pure luck, his father had grumbled when he’d broken the good news to him.

Worse, when it got out what Noah’s lawyer had done, Gunnar Sawyer would chew him up one side and down the other for being so stupid. So damned trusting.

For the first time in Noah’s life, he was up shit creek without a paddle. So tonight, he planned to get plastered and sweet talk a British hottie into coming back to his hotel room.

Well, that had been his plan, until he saw a gorgeous woman walking down the aisle of the church after the ceremony, her pretty, pale green eyes wide and her face pale. Her chin was up, her mouth firm and closed tight, as if to say to the world, I’m really not upset. But he knew better; her eyes had given her away. Hell, her entire face had given her away.

As soon as the service ended, he’d driven hell for leather to the reception hall to find her again. When he had, he discovered that she was on the edge of bawling her eyes out. He had older sisters; he knew what red-rimmed eyes meant.

Suddenly, Kate stood, tall and elegant in her gown, and he let out a rush of air. A large part of him thought she would turn him down—she was too classy to go anywhere with him. With her black hair and porcelain skin, she was a vision of perfection. A vision that made his gut tighten and desire surge, just like the first time they’d met. He’d kicked himself all the way back to Texas for not asking her out that night.

But maybe this time, luck was on his side. And he sure as hell needed some luck.

He placed his hand on the small of her back. Sucking in a breath, she turned to him, glancing at his face. He smiled wider, a friendly smile, he hoped, and not a deranged hey-baby-I’m-going-to-take-you-home-with-me-and-do-you-right kind of smile.

Yeah, he was a red-blooded man, but there was no way in hell he’d take advantage of her.

“Ready?” he said as everyone else stood.

The music began, and several couples took to the floor while others waited for the first course to be served. The laid back approach had to be Daisy’s influence, he thought. Romanov looked like he invented rules and had people killed for not following them. Not that Noah couldn’t handle a guy like him, but a man didn’t go around courting trouble unless he was stupid.

“Can we,” her small, pink tongue touched her bottom lip, “go somewhere more private than the terrace?

“This is a crush—too crowded,” she added, as if he needed an excuse to leave with her.

“How about somewhere else entirely?” he heard himself suggest.

Down boy.

He had to tread lightly with Kate. She was a lady, after all. An honest-to-goodness lady with rules and manners that hadn’t been taught to him. For all he knew, he could be insulting her. But he had been raised to respect women, to treat them with kindness and chivalry.

A bit old-fashioned. But he didn’t give a good damn. In his opinion, there was a considerable lack of respect, kindness, and chivalry for anyone going around these days, so he did what he could to make up for it.

Now that was entirely his grandparents’ influence.

“Yes, please,” she said, reaching down to gather her things. Her expression turned stricken. “I’m... I need to convey my—”

“You don’t need to do anything but follow my lead, Duchess.” He placed her hand over the crook of his elbow and began to walk.

***

She didn’t speak to him again until they were in his car. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” he said. Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, he noted that she looked less strained. “Feeling better?”

“Much.”

“Feeling like dinner for two?”

Her lips curved into a smile. Though it was small, it was genuine and almost took his breath away. “Perhaps. As long as it’s somewhere low-key.”

“You name the place. I’ve only been here two days and know nothing of the area beyond what Trip Advisor recommends.”

“There’s a Greek bistro—The Bull—nearby. It’s in Bayswater. Are you familiar? I can give you directions.”

“Definitely will need those. Put the address into the GPS and let that smarmy bastard tell me where to go.” He downshifted as traffic thinned out.

“Smarmy bastard?”

Oh, hell. He needed to watch his mouth. “Sorry. The last person who rented the car reprogrammed the navigation system, and now it’s stuck on assho—er... know-it-all mode.”

“Ah,” she said in her clipped accent. “I didn’t think to ask, but are you keen on Greek food?”

“Not much I don’t like. When I was younger, my grandmother used to say that I’d eat anything that wouldn’t eat me first.”

“That is as disturbing as it is charming,” she said with a laugh.

“Your laugh is charming.”

“Noah, I...I have a proposal for you.”

The stoplight turned red, and he braked. Shit. Was she propositioning him? “I’m honored, sweetheart, but you seem to be in a vulnerable place right now.”

Her hand covered his. The heat of her skin merged with his own, not helping his self-control one bit. “That’s exactly why I need your help.”

He turned to her. “As much as I’d love to get your mind off whatever it is that’s bothering you, I don’t think sex is the answer.”

Kate’s eyes rounded, her cheeks pinkened, and her mouth formed a perfect O. However, she didn’t sputter as she said, “You think I want to have sex with you?”

“Not really,” he grumbled, turning his attention back to the road. “Most women like to have sex with me.”

“Most women?”

“All but one, but you can’t blame a guy for not being at his best the first time.” Shut up, shut up, shut up.

“You missed your turn, you wanker,” the GPS from hell pointed out.

Noah made a left turn, and the GPS went crazy trying to reconfigure. Two blocks later, he slowed down in front of The Bull, an old brick building with red and black accents. Though to be fair, every building in London was old.

“Ten minutes ahead of schedule.” He fist bumped the GPS monitor. “Who’s the wanker now?”

“Are you insulting a computer?” she asked with a smile in her voice.

“Seemed like a good idea.” And it got them off the topic of sex. Or his assumption of sex. The smarmy GPS was right—he was a wanker.

“I have a better one,” she said.

“Better than sex?”

“That remains to be seen.”

His mouth kicked up at the corner. “There’s nothing better than sex.”

“Perhaps not, but the proposition I have in mind would, or rather could, mutually benefit us both.”

This time, he would keep his mouth shut and let her do the talking. His ego couldn’t take another beating. “Go on.”

“I’m in need of a husband, and you, Noah Sawyer, are perfect.”

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