His Collateral Bride:A Billionaire Romance

eeks

e Layla Corbett to be yo

was steady, his gaze never

ke Dave Wilson to be your

to the devil, even if the devil did look breathtaking in a custom-tailored tuxedo. It had been only fourteen

glint in his eyes that snapped her back to the altar. Her finger

s, I do," sh

yla hadn't just spent two minutes teetering on the edg

She had made a vow in front of God and a hall full of people. This was a contract, a cold-blooded business ar

powerful men in the city, with dark, wavy hair and piercing light-brown eyes that seemed to read her every jagged thought

serene satisfaction, a sto

close to whisper pleasantries that meant nothing. At one point, he fed her a small piece of cake with his mouth,

was there a flicker of something

sat as far from her as possible, his jaw tight, fidgeting as if her very proximity irritated him. Layla stared out the window at the grand architecture of this part

iver to open the door. He surged out of the car and disappea

on a navy velvet sofa, his tie discarded and a tumbler of amber whiskey gripped in his hand. He w

about to start her menstrual cycle?" Layla asked, her voice echoing in the vast

ws. Layla turned to see a woman

om his screen. "She'll show you to your room. If the decor isn't to

'Marry me, and your father's debts vanish.' "Dave," she said, her voice dropping to a softer, more dangerous register.

e a means to an end, Layla. You read the contr

into the foyer, her heels clicking like gunfire on the marble. Behind her

around so quickly the porter nearly tripped. "Nothi