The Ultimate Millionaire. Susan Mallery
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His idea of a significant relationship was to date the same woman twice in the same week. He went out with models. How could she ever have a serious conversation with a man who dated women who were paid to starve for a living? It violated the female code.
Plus, initially he’d tried to break up Julie and Ryan. Marina thought that was pretty low.
“I’m not asking you to have his baby,” Julie said. “Just work with him on the wedding. Besides, it won’t be too bad. He’s a guy. He’ll get bored at the first meeting with the florist and disappear. You’ll have to deal with him once. Twice at the most.”
“I don’t want to deal with him at all,” Marina said mournfully. “He’s everything I don’t like in a man.” Talk about emotionally useless. Or so she imagined.
A sound came from the doorway. It sounded like someone clearing his throat. When Marina looked up she found a pretty good-looking guy leaning against the door frame.
He looked more amused than annoyed, but based on Julie’s gasp and sudden blush, Marina was willing to go out on a limb and figure this was the infamous Todd Aston.
“Ladies,” he said with a nod. “Ryan let me in and said you were meeting in here. I’ve shown up for wedding duty. I’m also accepting a humanitarian award at the end of the month. Perhaps the two of you would like a shot at writing my bio for the event. It would certainly be entertaining.”
“Oh, man,” Julie muttered. “I’m sorry. That all came out more harshly than I meant it to.”
Marina studied him. He was the walking, breathing definition of tall, dark and hunky. Great face with soulful eyes and the kind of mouth that made a woman dream about being taken against her will. Broad shoulders, a muscled chest and jeans skimming over narrow hips and yummy thighs. All in all, a great package. Too bad Todd’s personality was stuck inside it.
He smiled at her. “You must be Marina.”
“I am. Nice to meet you, Todd.”
“Nice?” He raised one eyebrow. “That’s not what I heard. You’ve already decided I’m an ass. Or is it an idiot?”
She shifted on the sofa, feeling just a tiny bit uncomfortable. “You go out with models. Their airbrushed perfection in magazines make regular women feel bad about themselves.”
“Because of that, models shouldn’t be allowed to date?”
Logic? He wanted to use logic in a discussion about the objectification of thin, young women in modern society?
“Of course they should be allowed to date,” she said smoothly. “I’m simply not interested in someone who’s interested in them.”
“Right,” he said folding his arms over his chest. “Because you assume that if they’re beautiful they must be dumb. Therefore I like dumb women.”
“I didn’t say that, but thanks for clarifying.”
His mouth twitched as if he were holding in a smile. “I don’t date dumb women.”
“You should probably make up your mind about that,” she told him.
“I’ll get right on it.”
“If you two are finished…” Julie pointed to the chair opposite the sofa. “Okay, then. So, we should get started with all this. The wedding.”
Todd strolled across the room and took the seat offered, then pulled a PalmPilot out of his shirt pocket. “I’m ready.”
Marina looked at him. “You’re actually going to participate?”
“Right down to the organic seed we’ll be throwing at the happy couple when they head off on their honeymoon.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “We don’t use rice. The birds eat it and it’s bad for them.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it. “Someone’s been spending a little too much time on the Internet.”
“Internet, bridal magazines, whatever. When it comes to wedding planning, I’m your guy.” A challenge brightened his dark eyes. “I’m in this all the way. Are you?”
If he thought he could scare her off, then he was in for a wild ride. “I’m in. And just for the record, I define stubborn.”
“Me, too.”
Ha! No way. He might think he was all that, but Marina was more than willing to take him on and win.
Julie sighed. “I thought you two might not get along, but I never considered this might become a competition. Listen. We’re talking about a wedding. My wedding to Ryan. We need help, not a Las Vegas-style show. Bigger is not better. Don’t be too creative. Let’s just make it low-key and elegant, okay?”
Marina felt Todd’s gaze shift to her. She stared right back at him and refused to be the first one to blink. “Julie, have I ever let you down?”
“No,” Julie said slowly, as if she didn’t want to admit it.
“So trust me.”
Julie gave them each a copy of her list. Todd scanned his, then turned his attention back to Marina Nelson.
She was blond like her sisters, only her hair was darker—more honey-gold. She was about an inch taller than Julie, with the same curvy build. They were obviously sisters and could almost have passed for twins. The main difference—aside from hair color—was the “I’m willing to take you on, big guy” attitude in the set of her chin. Julie was far more agreeable.
Todd had a rule when it came to women—why work hard? There were plenty of attractive females more than happy to come on to him. Some of it was due to his success as a businessman, some of it was his looks. Most of it was about the family fortune.
Whatever the reason, he rarely had to go searching for company. His romantic life was an ongoing series of short-term relationships with minimal commitment and effort on his part. That was how he liked things.
Marina was going to be anything but easy and he wasn’t even trying to get her into bed. But Ryan had asked for his help, so he would put up with the overly verbal Nelson sister for the sake of his cousin.
He was even willing to admit—only to himself—that he was looking forward to taking her on. It had been a long time since a woman had done anything but let him get his way. Working with her would be good for his character, even if he did plan to win in the end.
“Basically we have the invitations done and that’s it,” Julie said as she studied her own copy of the list. “Grandma Ruth offered her house for the wedding and Ryan and I agreed it’s an amazing place. But there are decisions to be made. It’s a winter wedding. Do we want to risk the outside thing? It could be seventy-five or it could be raining.”
“She