The Billionaire’s Marriage Of Deception

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Blurb:

An African American, fake marriage, billionaire romance book. Amanda’s life has taken on a dark twist. First of all, she’s just uncovered her fiancé’s plan to swindle her out of her billion-dollar fortune… And second of all, after attempting to escape from the relentless media attention, she gets shot!

In her most desperate hour, a mysterious and courageous stranger, known to her only as Michael, comes to her rescue. Focused on her safety above all else, Amanda extends an offer to Michael that he can’t refuse: a fake marriage to protect her from her vengeful ex. Yet neither of them would have guessed that their charade would give rise to genuine love, complicating an already dangerous situation.

Can they overcome the dangers that encircle them and build a future filled with enduring happiness? Will they outwit their adversaries and secure a love that defies all odds? Find out in this African American, marriage of convenience romance story by Shamika Louis.

Chapter 1

Amanda stood before the front desk, one hand gripping the shoulder strap of her garment bag and the other clenched around the handle of her roll-aboard. Her shoulders were sore from carting the luggage around, her skin was dry and itchy from the plane flights, and the absolute last thing she needed right now was any hassle. But from the way the check-in clerk was frowning at the screen, she wasn’t going to be so lucky.

The young woman behind the polished teakwood counter finally lifted her head and smiled at Amanda with a practiced coyness that grated on her like nails on a chalkboard. “And where is Mr. Moore?”

She cleared her throat and leaned slightly closer across the counter, lowering her voice. “There isn’t one.”

Her perfectly plucked eyebrows furrowed downward. Valerie, her nametag said. “I’m sorry, but I thought your reservation this week was for two.”

“It was,” Amanda replied, staring at her like she could will her to get it already without her having to go into gruesome detail.

It was like the proverbial light bulb came on over her head. “Oh! Oh, my. I’m very sorry to hear that, Ms. Moore.” She looked completely nonplussed for a moment. Just as Amanda was wondering if this could get any more awkward, she shook it off and switched to a smile that was less perky and more sympathetic. “But you’re still staying the week with us?”

“It’s paid for,” Amanda smiled through gritted teeth. And I have to pretend that the wedding happened and I’m actually on my honeymoon because it’ll affect Hors d’ Weave’s bottom line if it came out that the CEO got bilked by what was essentially a con artist and that the ‘wedding of the year’ had to be canceled last minute because of it. Joy. Who doesn’t want that humiliation in their lives?

“Oh, of course. Well, let me welcome you again to Royal View Resort and assure you that all of us here are completely devoted to making sure you have a truly memorable honey—um, vacation. A memorable, relaxing vacation.” Valerie looked down at her computer and started quickly clicking the mouse. “Now, Ms. Moore, it looks like you’ve reserved one of our Honeymoon Cottages along the beach?”

Amanda sighed. The three-hour flight from Las Vegas to Miami had been difficult enough, but on the smaller plane to the island, the empty seat beside her in the two-seat row was almost mocking, reminding her that she wasn’t supposed to be making this trip alone. She was tired, hungry, still more or less grieving, and if she was going to have to fight to keep the reservation that a few days ago she’d been so looking forward to, she was likely to throw a fit right here in the immaculate lobby.

But all she said was, “Yes, that’s right,” with the arched eyebrow she used when a subordinate was about to explain how they’d screwed something up.

Valerie blinked, blue eyes widening a little. “Right.” She gave the mouse a few more clicks, and then the beaming smile slid back onto her face. “I’m very happy to report that since we had a last-minute cancellation, we can offer you the Honeymoon Villa instead. It’s our largest unit and offers the most privacy, at the far end of our property. The beach is a teeny bit more rocky, but there are some magnificent plantings around it that provide a screen from the rest of the property, if you’re looking for peace and quiet.”

And this way none of the happy couples here have to wonder who the loser is wandering around by herself, Amanda uncharitably thought to herself. Aloud, she said with a forced smile, “That sounds great.”

Ten minutes later, Amanda was trudging along a curving stone path past a row of bright pink cottages that had her averting her eyes. They hadn’t looked so…pink…from above. And yes, she’d used Google Earth to look over Royal View Resort and the other five places on her list of finalists to make sure she knew what to expect. What if they were next to a swamp or a highway or something else that didn’t show in the official websites, or what if the photos of the rooms’ interiors didn’t match the scene outside? Was the view worth traveling hundreds of miles for? Amanda had to be prepared.

There’s a difference between being prepared and being hopelessly anal retentive, she could hear Calvin sniping at her, but she shut down that voice. She wasn’t here to do that. She was here to put all of that behind her and relax.

She’d never even looked at the Honeymoon Villa, though, since it had been booked for six months before she’d even made an inquiry. Even as CEO of Hors d’ Weave, foremost hair agency serving the greater West Coast of the United States, she was subject to settling for second best. Especially since she didn’t like to be flashy with her money; for just such the reason that Calvin had duped her. She didn’t want to attract leeches. Calvin had really pulled one over her though; she had to give him a round of applause. He had been good—

Deep breath, Amanda reminded herself. She inhaled, filling her lungs with the sweet scent of tropical flowers and the salt tang of the ocean—no, the sea. Don’t think about him. Think about here. And about now. And whatever else that stupid therapist said.

She rounded the corner of a tall hedge, pushed back a palm frond that was overgrowing the walkway, and stopped in her tracks. “Wow,” Amanda said out loud.
The villa was not, thank God, a bright pink cottage. It was a two-story structure with a thatched roof, clean cream stucco on the walls, and beautiful dark wood trim. It was perched atop a small cliff, which made Amanda feel better for being slightly out of breath. The view it commanded was of endless, crystal-clear, turquoise water, studded with black rocks and topped with frothy white waves. The only sounds were the crashing waves and the chirp of birds from the forest at the back of the villa.
The path wound past a pair of palm trees that were leaning towards each other like lovers, and Amanda rolled her eyes at her sentimentalism. “Just because you’re the only person who’s ever stayed here who’s not going to get laid,” she muttered to herself. She shouldered her bag higher and trudged the final few steps to the door. God, the shower was going to feel good.

Inside, everything was immaculate and polished without feeling stuffy. Calvin would have gone sprawling across the white linen-covered wicker sofa just to make a point, Amanda thought, sweaty clothing and all. She wrinkled up her nose and commanded herself once more to stop it.