The Professional Bride: Billionaire Marriage Brokers Book Three, page 16
A rueful smile played at his lips. He’d messed up with the water rights. Amber had told him he would mess up sometimes and that they would handle it—together. Only there would be no more together. He’d broken them, ruined his chance at happiness. He was only a tool after all.
Chapter 29 30
Amber did her best to keep her shoulders and her back straight as she entered Pamela’s office. Unsure of her welcome, she hovered at the door until her boss looked up and waved her in.
“Amber, I’m glad you could get here on such short notice. Rym insisted this all be cleared up as soon as possible.”
A fresh wave of pain caused Amber’s steps to falter. “Of course.” She bit her lip to keep the tears at bay and settled her mind on the task at hand. No matter what Pamela said, she would not cry. Crying was unprofessional and she’d done enough of it over the last two days to last a lifetime. Trish was an excellent host, giving Amber the space she needed to let it out and providing plenty of chocolate.
“I have the papers for your discharge here.” Pamela opened a folder and pointed to the signature line. “Sign here, please.”
Amber gave a small shake of her head. She’d anticipated being let go and felt a pang of regret. Her time at BMB had been productive and pleasant. She couldn’t bring herself to regret her time with Rym, though. If she had to do it all over again, the time they’d had together was worth all of this. She missed him something fierce. “I take it everything worked out legally for Rym … I mean, Mr. Hoagland.”
Pamela offered her first smile. “He’s fine. That Mr. McGraw is a legal wiz-kid. He had everything ironed out in no time.”
Amber squirmed under the sense of betrayal. She thought McGraw liked her. Mentally cringing, she realized she’d never learned his first name. She and Rym had dropped the “Mr.” and referred to him as McGraw, like they were teammates. Because they had been. They’d all been on the Iron Mountain team, working to make Rym’s first season as successful as his grandpa’s last. Well, at least they’d done that.
Suddenly eager to be out from under Pamela’s careful gaze, Amber asked, “Is that all?”
“Harrison has a few papers for you to sign as well.”
Amber got to her feet. “I’ll stop in his office.” She held out her hand. “Thank you, Pamela, for taking a chance on me. I’ve learned a lot from working with you and I hope I’ve represented BMB well over the years.”
Pamela’s eyes softened as she took Amber’s hand and pressed it between both of hers. “Amber, I had a good feeling about you from the beginning, and I stand by it. You’re going to do wonderful things. Good luck.”
Amber didn’t fight the tears that came at the rare, but cherished, words of praise. She made her way to Harrison’s office and checked her mascara in the decorative mirror in the hall before knocking.
“Come in,” called Harrison’s deep voice.
Amber sucked in a breath and opened the door. The moment her eyes landed on Rym, she felt lightheaded. In a heartbeat, Rym was at her side, holding her elbow to keep her steady.
“Here, sit down.” He escorted her to the chair he’d been sitting in and then scooted another one around to sit next to her.
“What are you …?” Amber tried to ask. She’d never expected to see Rym again in her life and she’d thought he’d stay in Utah. Pamela had sent everything to him in Park City, including her, so there was no reason to expect him at BMB headquarters.
Harrison answered, “Rym and I were going over the particulars for the Iron Mountain scholarship program you organized.”
Amber dropped her gaze to her hands resting in her lap.
“Why did you do it, Amber?” asked Rym.
Amber twirled her ring around her finger. She hadn’t been able to make herself take it off yet. “When I talked to Robyn, and after hearing about your struggles growing up, I thought there might be a way for Iron Mountain to help. Robyn wants to be a paralegal. She’s smart, too: I looked through her employee records. She’ll make it. And McGraw could use someone on Iron Mountain’s staff who could help with the lawsuits. It made sense.”
“And since I’d all but thrown away the thirty thousand dollars on fake bank fees the first day I met you, you didn’t think I’d mind.”
“Actually, I just thought you’d want to help.”
Rym reached for her hand and Amber let him take it, knowing full well it would make their separation harder but unable to resist having just one more moment with him.
“I think it’s a brilliant idea.” He glanced at Harrison.
Harrison suddenly cleared his throat and stood. “I think I need a drink. If you’ll excuse me.”
Amber watched him go, puzzled by his abrupt departure.
Rym brushed his thumb over Amber’s knuckles, bringing her attention back to him. “Are you ready to sign up for another husband?”
Amber shook her head. “I couldn’t. Not after—”
Rym’s shoulders tensed. “Not after what?”
Amber blinked. “Not after you,” she whispered.
Rym lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. His whiskers tickled her skin. “Forgive me, Amber, for letting my fear get the better of me.”
Amber bit her lip to keep from crying out. She could forgive him. She’d known the risk she took and that she was pushing him beyond his limits. She just hadn’t expected it to reach the limits of her heart as well. Trying to find words to express the thoughts tumbling around inside her head, Amber opened and closed her mouth.
Rym knelt before her, still holding her hand. “I know you hate the cold, but Utah has four seasons and only three of them are cold. Our summers are really warm, and you should see Iron Mountain in the fall, it’s amazing.”
Amber sputtered. “It sounds beautiful.”
“Please come home.” Rym kissed her fingers, his lips lingering and his eyes warm and so full of love. “Come home to your husband; not your job.”
Surely he could hear her heart racing. “I want to.” Amber tightened her grip on Rym’s hand. “I want to be with you.”
Rym dropped her fingers and placed his hands on either side of Amber’s face. “I love you, Amber.”
Rym’s warm breath touched Amber’s lips a moment before his kiss. Amber melted into him, threading her fingers into his hair. “I love you too,” she said against his mouth.
“I believe this would count as a public display of affection.”
Amber jumped at the sound of McGraw’s voice. She tucked her head next to Rym’s jaw. Placing a palm on his chest, she said, “If you’re here, and McGraw is here, who’s in charge of Iron Mountain?”
McGraw shuffled his feet.
Amber sat up. “Please tell me you left someone in charge.”
McGraw pointed to Rym. “He said this took precedence over everything.” McGraw held up a stack of papers.
“What is that?” Amber asked.
“A new prenup—without the divorce stipulation,” replied McGraw. He threw a dirty look at Rym. “You haven’t told her you plan to extend the marriage contract?”
Rym shrugged. “I told her the important stuff.”
Amber’s heart trilled. This would be her final marriage. She wondered for a moment if Pamela had fired her to clear the way for Amber and Rym to be together. Shaking out of her musings, Amber stood and pulled Rym up with her. “We can go over all the paperwork you want—in the office. Right now, we need to get back to Park City before the place falls apart.”
McGraw chuckled. “The woman at the front desk offered to make flight reservations …”
“Good. Have her book three flights. We’re going home.”
Rym pulled Amber in for a bear hug, and McGraw pumped his fist. “Sign here and I’ll have her put your ticket under Amber Hoagland.”
Smiling, Amber signed with a flourish. Rym wouldn’t be her first husband, but he would be her last.
***
Rym watched as Amber pushed her skis out and slowed to a stop. Rym spun in a complete circle and ended up next to her. “You’re getting the hang of this.”
“Ha. At the rate I’m going, I’ll be fifty before I can ski like you.”
Rym closed his eyes and breathed in Amber’s words and the accompanying promise that went with them. The snow was icy in spots, the sun burned down, and Iron Mountain was on a skeleton crew for the last day of the season, but Rym couldn’t think of a more perfect day than the one he’d spent skiing with Amber.
They’d returned to find that Iron Mountain was still standing, though there were a few matters to take care of. Rym and Amber both signed the new prenup. Rym had been shocked to find out that Amber was worth almost as much as his grandpa had been before he passed away. The fact that she didn’t need Rym’s money had gone a long way to thaw Rym’s mom’s opinion of Amber.
Amber said she had fallen in love with Iron Mountain and agreed to work as a vice president for the modest salary, knowing full well it was all the resort could offer. She’d already invited four magazines to come out next year, hoping they’d do full-page spreads on the resort. She was also in negotiations to host several high-level races that were sure to bring in business for the resort’s hotels during the slower parts of the season.
They popped off their skis and headed to the parking lot. “What would you like for dinner?” asked Amber.
Rym slung his free arm around her shoulder and kissed her cheek. As amazing as Amber was at running a ski resort, it was the quiet evenings at home that had stolen Rym’s heart. Because it was after work, when Amber was just Amber, that he’d seen her true beauty. And how was a man supposed to resist someone who was good and kind and who had saved her heart just for him? Rym couldn’t. He’d been up against impossible odds the moment Amber stepped off the airplane. And he couldn’t be happier about it.
“How about blueberry pancakes?” he suggested.
Amber’s eyes lit up. “Sounds great.”
Rym set his skis down and wrapped his arms around Amber’s middle, pulling her closer until their lips met. The sensation of kissing Amber was something Rym couldn’t get used to. It was sweet, wonderful, and as pure as spring runoff. Pouring his love for her into the kiss, Rym realized he couldn’t put into words how much he loved Amber. It was like trying to explain his love for the mountain that had nurtured him, provided shelter from life’s storms, accepted him as he was and pushed him to be better. Grandpa would have understood. Grandpa had loved that deep and in the end, Grandpa had bequeathed Rym the best in life; he’d brought him Amber.
Scroll ahead for a peak at Lucy McConnell’s novel Undercover Engagement.
Thank You
Thank you for purchasing The Professional Bride. I hoped you enjoyed the story. Please consider leaving a review on Amazon or Goodreads. Reviews are so important for authors and they help other readers find books they’ll enjoy.
Sign up and receive a free gift.
As a special thank-you for those who sign up for my newsletter, I’m sending out the recipe for the heavenly brownies that caught Nick’s attention in The Academic Bride. Simply click here to be enter your email. You’ll also receive other wonderful recipes and updates from Lucy McConnell.
Coming Soon
Billionaire Marriage Brokers Book Four: The Country Bride.
Sign up for Lucy’s newsletter for information on the release of the next Billionaire Marriage Brokers book.
You may also enjoy these books by Lucy McConnell
Undercover Engagement
Chapter 1
As always, Jason held open the passenger door of his gorgeous, graphite metallic, Dodge Viper while I slid in. I know I’m not supposed to be worldly and all that, but I love his car. It makes me want to purr every time I run my hands over the plush, two-tone, leather seats.
“What’s that mischievous smile for?” Jason pressed the ignition button, leaving his door open in the afternoon heat. The intelligent machine automatically adjusted the seat position, steering wheel, and air conditioner, to his pre-set specifications.
If there was ever a man that looked right sitting in a car like this, it was Jason. His six-foot, two-inch frame; broad, muscular shoulders; bright blue eyes; and chiseled jaw; turned my head faster than the tilt-a-whirl at the county fair. Along with all that, he was a wonderful man who happened to make my dreams come true when he had proposed last night.
“I was just thinking about surprising my parents tonight,” I replied.
I brushed my recently manicured nails over the six-speed stick for the manual transmission and thought, not for the first time, how my dad told me, “Real men drive a stick shift.” I smiled, thinking this car was a far sight away from the dusty old farm truck Dad drove.
Jason took my hand and played with the one karat diamond on my wedding finger. “Alyssa, shouldn’t we call to let them know we’re coming? They haven’t even met me.”
I shook my shiny, short brown hair. “They may not have met you yet, but they are going to love you.”
It was so cute that a man as successful as Jason Butler, a man who commanded every room he entered, was nervous to meet my laid-back parents. Of course, I understood his angst. His parents had died in a car wreck when he was twenty-one, so he didn’t have a lot of experience with the whole parents meeting girls and beaus meeting parents’ process.
At twenty-eight-years-old, and their only child who hadn’t produced a kid, my parents would have been happy if I brought anyone home, but they would be ecstatic that I’m engaged to a successful, god-fearing, investor. It didn’t matter that I had a master’s degree, clawed my way up the corporate ladder, and had a fulfilling career as an investment advisor. In their eyes, I needed a man. I was okay with that, as long as the man was Jason. He was the smartest, kindest person I had ever met. His contributions to charities, the church, and random college students needing a financial boost to make it through, were always given anonymously. I knew, because I’d handled many of the transactions before transferring off his account due to a conflict of interest. The firm didn’t look kindly on an account manager dating a client. To be honest, I’d never been tempted until Jason walked into my office that cold December afternoon.
I placed my palm on his smooth cheek. It didn’t matter if Jason just got off an eight-hour flight from Europe, he was always clean shaven and I loved the feel of his skin.
I kissed him quickly to reassure him. If I started kissing him in earnest we’d never get on the road. Nibley was about an hour north and we needed to hit the road if we were going to make it to my parents’ house before dark.
“Marshall!” someone called from across the parking lot.
Jason’s head whipped around, effectively breaking our I-love-you-so-much gaze. A man, dressed in all black and wearing heavy sunglasses, pointed a gun at us. Jason pulled his door shut and slammed the car in reverse. A shot echoed through the air. The car flew backward, out of the lot and onto the street. I heard another pop and a perfect, orange-sized spider web crack appeared on the back window. “Not the car!” I cried out. Next to me, Jason let out a low growl. The only person who loved the Viper more than I did, was Jason.
“What are you doing?” I screamed as he careened backward down the street.
“Staying alive.” Jason revved through a yellow light. Two black SUVs pulled up on our right. Jason took the next left, swinging us in a 180 that had us facing the right direction on a one way road. A minivan – horn blaring – swerved to avoid the back bumper.
“Jason, what is going on?”
“I couldn’t tell you before, and I shouldn’t be telling you now …” He gave me an apologetic glance before eyeing mirrors and windows to gain a 360 degree sweep of the entire situation. His breath hissed between his teeth and I tugged at the seatbelt gouging my stomach, suddenly aware of the thunder behind his easy facade.
A thousand possibilities ran through my head: he’s already married, he’s got a deranged ex-girlfriend, he’s behind on his car payments. My seat belt had locked a little too tightly when we skidded around like a kid on a skateboard, and wouldn’t let up no matter how I pulled. I clutched the shoulder strap as Jason careened around another corner.
“I’m not really an international investor,” he said. I tried to listen to his explanation, but the SUVs reappeared. I caught a glimpse of the handsome-to-the-point-of-danger driver. He glared as he swerved towards our car, trying to run us off the road. Jason hit the gas and slid between the two cars ahead of us.
“They’re trying to kill us!” I spoke in low tones, as if the driver of the other car could hear me.
“Yep,” Jason agreed, his jaw tight. He focused on driving. Even though I had heard what he’d said, there was no way I was going to start an argument with him about the impossibility of the situation while we were being chased by crazy people.
The driver aimed his gun at my face and pulled the trigger. I threw my hands up over my head.
Jason slammed on the brake and two deep thunks sounded at my door as if someone were knocking.
“I’m an international spy,” he continued, his voice as calm as when we met in the boardroom together, not in some crazy, run-for-your-lives car chase.
“You can’t be an international spy,” I cried holding up my left hand and pointing at the ring – “I’m president of the children’s Sunday school.”
He looked at me, as if I’d grown a third arm. “That is the weirdest thing you’ve ever said.” He was calm in the middle of chaos.
I. Was. Loosing. It.
He turned the wheel (a car this nice does not need to be yanked in any direction) bringing us through a fast-food joint’s parking lot. One car waited at the drive up for their supersized happy food. The kid in the back seat pointed as we careened past. Our pursuers weren’t far behind.
My mind was running almost as fast as the ten-cylinder engine under the shiny hood. “Do you kill people? Are you-” gulp– “an assassin?” The car swerved and my head hit the window. I cried out pressing my palm against the goose egg.
