Dear Mr. Orion,

After careful consideration of your needs, the Diamond Bridal Agency is pleased to inform you that a bride has been located who matches your unique requirements. All communications have been kept private, as is our policy. All communication will cease after this missive and we request, for the security of our other clients, that you destroy this message after reading it.

Your satisfaction is guaranteed. To comply with your request for haste, your bride will arrive on May 13th, via private jet, at the Camden Municipal Airport. Please do not hesitate to contact me should there be any issue with your bride. Her name is Genevieve Horner, and she understands the stipulations of the contract.

Sincerely,

Mrs. Alveda Creed, Diamond Bridal Agency

William scanned the letter one more time and crumpled it, tossing it into the waste bin. He’d sent in the request months before, when life was much different. At that time, he wasn’t worried about losing a big chunk of his wealth at his west Texas spread. His neighbors had made life hell and, since he wasn’t there to make decisions every day, nothing had been done about it. Now, he’d have to collect his bride—wherever she was coming from—and put her right back on a plane with him to Texas. She might not even speak English. He hadn’t specified.

The Texas ranch had been in the family for a hundred and fifty years, the neighbor had owned their spread just as long. But something happened, literally muddying the water, and he needed to get it fixed. He owned four ranches in three states, not to mention his holdings in stocks and futures, and the Texas property had always worried him the least. Until his neighbor had taken it upon himself to act up.

William stood in front of his huge glass window overlooking his fourth and final acquisition, his back to the rest of his office. This huge piece of land had never had a building on it, not until he’d put one there. He’d had his home and office built, styled like an office straight out of Manhattan, but was instead in the middle of nowhere. A sharp knock came on his office door.

“Come,” he growled, knowing it was Carter, his oldest friend and assistant.

“You’re packed. Should I get the car?”

William could almost hear Carter crossing his arms in agitation. How the man hated working in the house. Carter had been the foreman on William’s first ranch, before he’d made his plans a reality. Secrets were best kept with only one other man. He couldn’t trust anyone more than he trusted Carter.

“There’ll be a delay. I just received a letter. I’ll be meeting someone at the air strip in two days. She’ll be arriving by private jet. Please find out how long we’ll have to wait between the arrival of her plane and when mine can leave.”

Carter was silent for a moment, then cleared his throat. “She?”

He would be bothered over William’s request for a bride, partly because William hadn’t warned him, and other reasons. Back when they were young and stupid, before wealth had taken him away from everything remotely like family, Carter’s sister had been infatuated with him, gushed over him. Made a fool of herself. She was pretty enough, but when she found out during his last year in high school his plan to use the profit from the Casper ranch to buy another, and then another, the only thing she’d heard when he spoke was the ka-ching of a cash register. He may not marry for love—and he could do worse—but Maddie was his last choice for a bride.

“Yes, she. My new wife will be on that plane.” And heaven help you, you’d better not do anything stupid to stop me.

“Permission to speak as a friend, sir?”

William didn’t turn to Carter, but his blood pumped thicker in his veins at the thought of a fight. “Of course.”

“Maddie would’ve gladly married you. She’s still at home, waiting.”

She would have married his money and put up with him, then managed to somehow embarrass him. At least back then, she hadn’t had a professional or polished thought in her head. No, he needed someone who could look good on his arm at parties, say all the right things to clients, warm his bed without a fight when he wanted, and would keep her mouth shut other than that. There wasn’t a woman alive who would look past his money.

“Maddie isn’t from wealth any more than you or I. I need a woman who can keep a house running, who can stand at my arm and smile.”

“So, you don’t want a wife. You want a mannequin? Is that it? At least Maddie cared about you.” Carter spat, the old friendship bucking to the surface.

Whether she cared or not was debatable. “I won’t talk about your sister any further. Frankly, the idea of someone I’ve known that long keeping me company is revolting.” He wouldn’t mention sex. If sleeping with Maddie made his stomach turn, Carter didn’t need to think about his sister with his best friend. It was disgusting, to a point. Maddie was a childhood playmate turned gold-digger, but Carter wouldn’t see it that way.

There was someone else from his past that didn’t bother him at all to think about. Someone warm and curvy, with just the right touch of attitude. But the more money he made, the less he felt he deserved someone like her. He deserved wealthy and cold, just like him. William turned to look his longtime friend in the eye.

“My fiancée will be here in two days. We won’t mention Maddie again, is that clear?” How strange to think of a wife that he’d never even spoken to. Hadn’t even received a picture.

Carter clenched his teeth and nodded.

“Good. Thank you for relaying the message. Please forward an email to Mrs. Feast in Casper. We should arrive there in three days.”

“I’ll do that and find out about the plane for you.”

Carter left, and William turned back to the window. Lush hills rolled out from the house and cattle grazed close to the gate. Cattle he didn’t care about as long as his men did their jobs. When had he stopped caring about the work and only the financials? When he’d made his plans, it had all mattered; how many calves, the cost of beef, how much to sell, where to invest. Riding out and looking at his spread mattered. But no more. Now, he couldn’t afford to take that time.

He glanced at the waste basket and the crumpled letter. Strange that he would think about his childhood crush, who shared the same first name as his new bride.

Genevieve Horner…

Up until now, he’d only known the one Genevieve. The only one that mattered. He’d purposely avoided going home, just in case she was still there. She was the daughter of the neighbor who was giving him such trouble and the one whose memory didn’t leave him squeamish no matter how intimately he pictured her—and he certainly had—especially when he was younger. Though she’d left him alone once she was old enough to look at. She had called him a willful jackass. He laughed to himself at the memory. She’d been right. He was then, and she’d probably still think so. Hopefully, his purchased bride wouldn’t have half that sass.