Billionaire Wolf Needs a Fake Girlfriend

Book 3 of the My Grumpy Werewolf Boss series.

He’s jaded arrogance. She’s cheerful sunshine. He made a deal to save his empire. She made a deal with the devil.

Denver Roberts has a reputation as a hotheaded playboy billionaire. His lifestyle hasn’t been a problem until now. If he can’t prove that he’s stable enough to lead his company, the board will vote him out. Denver handles this problem like everything else, with a mutually beneficial business arrangement.

Enter Sasha Bennett, the recently hired assistant designer at Denver’s company. She’s talented, stunning, and annoyingly cheerful, which means she’s definitely not his type. Sasha has her own reasons for agreeing to his plan. After showcasing her designs on social media, she’s gained an obsessive internet stalker who’s been sending her threatening messages. To throw the stalker off her trail, she needs a fake boyfriend who can make her look untouchable. What better choice than Denver, with his wealth, power, and intimidating presence?

It’s the perfect plan. Fake date for six months until the board thinks he’s changed his wild ways and the stalker has lost interest, then they can part ways and never speak again.

But as they spend time together, sparks fly and chemistry ignites. With pressure from all sides, their fake relationship becomes a lifeline and it becomes impossible to pretend it’s all a charade.

When the stakes rise and Denver’s wolf scents Sasha as his mate, he will risk it all and tear the world apart to keep her. Forever.

Excerpt

DENVER

I stifled a yawn and clapped politely as this year’s overrated philosophical writer climbed up the steps to the stage to accept his award. It was the Annual Arts & Literature Achievement Gala and this was an event for the elite to mingle as much as it was a celebration of pretentiousness.

I would bet my new yacht that he was going to quote Nietzsche. As the self-important author began his thank-you speech, I zoned out and took a sip of whiskey. From behind my glass, I observed the room. The ballroom of the Casino de Monte-Carlo was filled with people and wolf shifters who thought too much of themselves. They were dressed in the latest couture fashions and enough jewelry to buy a small country. Expensive perfume, smoke, and the stench of ambition hung in the air like a heavy fog.

“As Nietzsche once said…” I raised my glass and took a big gulp in victory. They were all so predictable. I hated these events. As much as I wanted to roll my eyes, I was being watched on all sides. After all, my company was the host of the event. Any reaction that could be misconstrued would be plastered all over the gossip sites and social media before the end of the night.

Instead, I gritted my teeth and pulled my lips into what I hoped looked like a smile instead of a grimace as I joined the rest of the audience in forced applause. After dragging on for far too long, the awards ceremony finally ended. While everyone else began mingling, I made my escape. If I could get past the kitchen to the servants’ exit, then I would be out of here.

I was two steps out of the building exit when a sultry female voice purred behind me.

“Denver Roberts.”

I turned around and sighed. This was what I got for dipping my dick into every up-and-coming starlet with a bouncy set of tits.

It was Savannah Sweetwood, the actress I slept with and then ghosted last summer. She ran to catch up to me, her stiletto heels clacking on the pavement. Savannah was exactly as devastating as she was last summer when I’d slipped away in the night. She was still beautiful, with those blood-red lips, shiny blonde hair, big doe eyes, and a couture gown that hugged her curves like liquid gold. Too bad she had the wit of a wet sock.

“Savannah,” I managed, my tone carefully neutral.

She stepped closer, her perfectly manicured nails grazing my arm in a move that was supposed to be seductive. Her eyes had a predatory gleam that rivaled any wolf shifter’s. “You never called.”

My hand brushed away the spot where she had touched me. I took a deliberate step back. “I was busy.”

Savannah smirked. She stepped closer and rubbed my arm again. “Too busy to return even one message?” Her laugh was brittle. “I thought what we had was special.”

“It was what it was,” I replied, keeping my voice low. The last thing I needed was the European press catching wind of our past.

She leaned in, her lips barely brushing my ear as she whispered, “Care for some company tonight? I can make it worth your while.”

The flash of a camera caught us both off guard. I blinked away the spots in my vision to see a paparazzo hiding behind a car, his camera lens trained directly on us. Savannah’s hand found my chest, and her smile turned predatory.

Savannah let out a laugh. She threw her head back and tossed her hair over her shoulder as if she were posing for a photoshoot.

“Perfect timing,” she murmured. “I wonder what they’ll make of the naughty American billionaire and his jilted lover reuniting in Monaco?”

I let out a growl, but before I could respond, the camera flashed again.

“Smile, darling.”

With a snarl, I swatted her hand away.

I really hated these fucking events.

+++

The next morning, news of my bump into Savannah was online everywhere. In the time it took me to fly from Monaco back to Huntington Harbor, the photos had spread already across the globe.

From my penthouse office, the unsavory words and photos from last night filled my laptop screen. “Billionaire Playboy Denver Roberts Caught in Steamy Embrace with Sultry Influencer Turned Actress Savannah Sweetwood!”

One after another, I tabbed through the gossip websites. Similar headlines blazed across European tabloids, each more sensational than the last.

The office door opened a sliver. My assistant, Colin, poked his head in. “Sir, the board has called an emergency meeting,” he whispered.

I slammed my laptop shut in disgust. “Of course they have.”

The boardroom overlooked Huntington Harbor’s skyline, showing a bright sunny blue sky, but the view did nothing to melt the arctic atmosphere inside. Staring at me with judgmental glares, the board members around the table tracked my steps like they were ready to pounce. I was a problem that needed to be solved. They were wolves, all of them, and they were older and far too conservative for my liking. My risk-taking was an asset when I was hired as CEO and invited to join the board, but now that I’ve successfully turned the failing company around, I was deemed an uncontrollable liability.

I held my head high and kept my posture relaxed as I made my way to my seat at the head of the table. Despite being on edge with my wolf snapping at the bit to attack, I could not let them know how much they affected me.

“Really, Denver, an international scandal?” Victoria Song began, her voice dripping with disdain. The silk Hermès scarf around her neck was knotted as tightly as her expression. “XMGH’s Foundation is meant to support the arts, not become tabloid fodder. The European market is crucial for our expansion plans into the Americas and Asia. We’ve discussed this before. Your lifestyle is becoming a liability.”

I leaned back in my chair, my gaze steady. There could be no sign of fear or backing down in front of these old wolves. I had to maintain my composure. “It was a calculated move by a bitter ex. Nothing more. My lifestyle is my personal business, Victoria. It does not concern the board.”

“Not when it affects business,” snapped Maxwell Callaghan. “Your bitter exes are becoming quite the collection. These scandals are hurting our reputation. And the timing, right before announcing our new product line for the Asian markets? We need stability. You know how important discretion and propriety are to them. If you can’t control yourself, how can we trust you to lead the company?”

My jaw tightened. “Profits have gone up quarter over quarter under my leadership.”

“And yet,” Victoria interrupted, “your personal life remains a constant source of embarrassment. XMGH Brands is a luxury women’s fashion company. Your antics are damaging our standing with our target market.” Victoria leaned forward and clasped her hands on the table. “The board has reached a decision. Either you demonstrate some genuine stability in your personal life, or we’ll be forced to reconsider your position. And this time, we mean it.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. They were trying to force me out after all of my hard work. I fought back a snarl. “And what, exactly, are you suggesting?”

Victoria smiled, flashing her teeth like fangs. “A mate. Someone respectable who can repair your image and show that you are a dependable leader.”

I scoffed. They were wrong if they thought I would be easier to control with a woman by my side. “You want me to get married?”

“We want you to prove you’re responsible,” she said simply. “Six months, Denver. The board will reconvene to evaluate your continued suitability as CEO of the company.”

I found myself wandering the hallways of the office that evening. What the fuck was I going to do? By now, my reputation ensured that the only type of woman who would even think of dating me was either someone wanting to climb the social ladder or someone who would sell my secrets out to the tabloids for exposure.

Most of the staff had already gone home, but there was a bright light coming from the area of the design studios. This area of the office wasn’t someplace I bothered to visit. My skills were in the boardroom and negotiations. Like any competent CEO, I left the day-to-day operations of the business to my employees. Tonight, however, something drew me toward the light like a moth to a flame.

The studio was a chaotic mess of fabrics draped on mannequins, samples of shimmering beads and sequins, and sketches pinned onto boards. I spotted her at a cluttered desk, bent over a large sketchpad. She wore a white button-up shirt which was stylishly tucked into the waist of her loose-fit jeans. Her strawberry blonde hair was pinned on top of her head in a messy bun. Several long strands fell out of her bun and framed her face.

The rhythmic scratching sounds of her pencil across the page came to a stop as she sensed my presence. She looked up and turning toward the door, narrowed her eyes at me.

“Does the C-suite understand the concept of knocking, or do you always barge into people’s workspaces unannounced?” she asked, her tone sharp.

I smirked. “Only when I’m desperate.”

Moving closer to her, I took in the sketches scattered across her workspace. There was a large leather tote sac tucked under her desk and a half-empty cup of coffee on top of some papers. I sniffed. She used real cream, not that fake creamer made of chemicals, and there was some sweetness from a teaspoon or two of sugar. These clues painted a picture of her, practical and authentic. She was perfect for what I needed. “Sasha Bennett, right?”

Her sharp hazel eyes tracked my movements. “And what has the great Mr. Roberts so desperate to seek me out after office hours?” She leaned her hip against her desk and crossed her arms over her chest. In her hand, she held her pencil like a dagger.

I studied her for a moment, noting how she seemed comfortably at home in this chaotic workshop. My gaze locked with hers. “Just Denver. Mr. Roberts is my father. I need a girlfriend.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”

“A fake one,” I clarified. “Just for six months. Long enough to get the board off of my back.”

The studio’s cluttered walls seemed to close in around us as she considered my words.

She laughed, a sound that was equal parts disbelief and amusement. “This is some kind of prank. I’m on hidden camera, right? You can’t be serious.”

“Deadly.”

“Is this about what happened in Europe with that influencer?” Her voice was tinged with curiosity. “I thought that was all B.S., but you were really involved with her? Wow.”

A part of me wanted to crawl out of my skin at the judgment in her voice. Savannah was a lust-fueled mistake I was going to regret for a long time. I moved to examine the sketches pinned to the wall. “The board wants me to prove I’m stable. They’re concerned about my reputation impacting our expansion into new markets.” I turned back to her. “I need someone smart. Sophisticated. Someone who can handle both the boardrooms and European galas.”

“And you thought of me?” She raised an eyebrow. “The workaholic assistant designer who’s never even been to a social event?”

“Exactly,” I said, stepping closer. “You’re a clean slate. You have a chance to develop a name in the industry. You fit in with the business and I can teach you to fit in with my world. And you’re the last person anyone would expect me to date, which makes it believable.”

“And what’s in it for me?”

“Name your price.”

Her expression turned serious and she studied me for a moment. “I want my own line. Full creative control. No interference.”

I nodded. “Done.”

She laughed, the sound echoing off the studio’s high ceilings. “You’re actually serious about this. You’re out of your mind.” She tilted her chin up and met my gaze. “And What if I say no?”

I leaned in. We were so close that I could hear the rapid beating of her heart and smell her sweet scent. Summer roses with a hint of a fresh sea breeze. My nostrils flared as I took in a deep breath. “Then I’ll find someone else. But I’d rather it be you.”

“Six months of pretending to be your girlfriend? In the public eye? With your ex-lover probably plotting revenge as we speak?”

I nodded. “Don’t worry about her. She can’t plot her way out of a paper bag. Think of it as a business arrangement with social benefits.”

She paused for a moment as she considered my proposal. To my dismay, she shook her head. “I can’t. Pretending to be in a fake relationship feels wrong. I’m sorry, but I’m not the one to help you with your problem. I hope this won’t interfere with my work here at the firm.”

I was disappointed, but this was only a setback. “Of course not. Take your time to consider my offer. There’s no need to rush.”

As I left the studio, I couldn’t help but feel a spark of curiosity. She was unlike anyone I’d ever met. For a lowly assistant designer, she was sharp, independent, and unafraid to challenge me.

Sasha Bennett was going to be mine, she just didn’t realize it yet.