My Fake Christmas Fiance (Kane Christmas #1) - Julie Kriss Page 0,1

wrong about me, by the way. I don’t think you’re a boring nerd. You’re just…a little uptight. The glasses give it away, though they look good on you. But on the other hand, you’ve got all that wild, curly brown hair, plus great legs in those knee-length skirts. Your father should give you some credit—you’re practically running that company. Does he even know how much profits were last year? I bet you do.

You say you barely remember the end of that meeting, so let me remind you. Your father thinks that a woman with great hair and perfect legs can’t find a husband, so he put you in as part of the merger. My father, who wants this merger at any cost and doesn’t particularly care what I want, agreed to it. I wasn’t going to agree. I was a little annoyed at my father, but I was mostly annoyed at yours, because who talks about his own daughter like that? I could have dumped him out the window, but I refrained.

While our dear old dads talked you went a couple shades of red, close to purple, but you didn’t walk out. It was the bravest—and the most entertaining—thing I’ve seen all year. I thought the top of your head might actually lift and lava would spout out, and frankly, I wanted to see that. You looked at me with all of that delicious outrage, like you couldn’t believe what was happening.

And you know what? I decided those two old jerks could shove it. They think you’re unweddable? Well, they’re wrong. So I agreed.

When my father asked you if you wanted me to get down on one knee and propose to you, right there in the meeting, I almost laughed. It was hard not to. You picked up a pen and said, “For God’s sake, just give me the damn paper.” Then you signed it, and we were engaged.

For the record, I would have done the knee thing.

Relax. I don’t have a secret burning passion for you. Despite the fact that I like your hair and your legs, plus other body parts I won’t admit I’ve repeatedly checked out—you’re already mad enough—I don’t have any desire to marry you. Or anyone. You’re right that we don’t know each other, and we live in different cities. I’ve got a nice life here in Denver. (And yes, I date, though I don’t have a girlfriend. You should leave your office and try it sometime.) We’re not going to do the white-picket-fence-and-babies thing anytime soon, definitely not by next Christmas. Because you’re right again, the whole thing is crazy.

You think I don’t know that? Of course I do.

But Kane Co. needs this merger. My father says I have to get engaged for the merger to go through. Hence, I am willing to get engaged.

I’m going to get us out of this.

You’ve seen the numbers, so I’ll be blunt. Kane Co. is in trouble. Our slipping profits don’t lie. This merger is our chance to turn things around—and I definitely plan to turn things around. If I have to sign an engagement agreement to do that—sure, I’ll do it. Better than Kane Co. going under, putting everyone out of work.

And now I have a year to get out of it while I save the company.

That lawyer? My dad’s drunken golf buddy. That piece of paper? Meaningless. Or it will be by next Christmas Eve. The knee thing? I still would have done it just to see your face.

We don’t have to get married for an entire year, Penny. That’s a year for me to work on this. I’ll take up golf with that drunken lawyer if I have to. I’ll get something drawn up that gets us out of this. I’ll get my father to sign it, and then I’ll get your father to sign it. It’ll be so easy, you’re going to wonder why you broke out the strong tea in the first place.

In the meantime, congratulations—you’re engaged to Colorado’s most eligible bachelor. And I’m good-looking, too. I know you’ve noticed.

I’m not avoiding you, by the way. My phone died because I never remember to charge it. But you know what? I’ve decided I’m not accepting calls or texts from you. I like it when you write your rants out to me on email in full. Please be drunk next time.

Love,

Wes, your sexy-as-fuck husband-to-be

February—Ten Months Ago

From: Penelope Gold

To: Wesley Kane

Subject: Well?

Wesley,

It’s February. We’re still engaged. What’s wrong with this picture?

I’ll tell you what’s