Daddy's Perfect Wife: A Billionaire Romance Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Book 1: Rogue Alpha

  Book 2: Black Moon Magic

  Book 3: Fallen Angel

  Daddy's Perfect Wife

  S.F. Bartholin

  Contents

  Preface

  Title Page

  Subscribe

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  AUTHOR’S NOTES

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  Book 1: Rogue Alpha

  Book 2: Black Moon Magic

  Book 3: Fallen Angel

  About the Author

  Dedication

  Preface

  They said he needed to find the Perfect Wife and he’d be the Perfect Senate Candidate.

  Daryl Dinero is an overly ambitious ex-Naval Officer who made billions in real estate. He’s gorgeous and knows it. He does what he wants, how he wants. When he sets his sights on a political career, he realizes what he’s missing: a Perfect Wife.

  Wendy LeCroix is a sassy firebrand from the wrong side of the tracks, struggling to pay her bills in a small town, and was just dumped by her boyfriend. With no place to live, she’s late - again - to her job, and the blizzard has already started when she crashes into a snow bank.

  They meet and sparks fly. "I have to ask you one thing," he says...

  “Call me Daddy."

  When his campaign manager strikes a deal with a notorious mob boss for his daughter’s hand in marriage, Daryl has the perfect fake wife and his State Senate seat all but locked in.

  But with Wendy in the picture, Daryl learns the deal wasn’t what he thought he agreed to, and it could cost him his fortune.

  This 35,000 word novel has lots of steamy, one-handed scenes, no cheating, no cliffhanger, and a HEA.

  COPYRIGHT © 2017 S.F. Bartholin

  ID3 Publishing

  All rights reserved.

  Any similarities to any persons, living or deceased, are strictly coincidental.

  I made this up, it's complete fiction.

  Daddy’s Perfect Wife

  S.F. BARTHOLIN

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  Chapter 1

  Daryl

  "Why do you have to parade me around, Eve? I'm perfectly capable of shaking hands and smiling on my own."

  "Daryl Dinero! This is important and you know it." Evelyn, my campaign manager and jack-of-all-trades, was easy to stir up. Sometimes I thought my run for State Senator was her ambition more than it was mine.

  "Isn't that Senator Daryl Dinero, Eve?" I shot her a smile and elbowed her. "Or Senator Daddy?"

  "Candidate Dinero, don't get too far ahead of yourself. And you know I don't like when people call you Daddy." She shook her head. "We agreed that you need to have that wife on your arm, or you might never be a senator."

  "I know, but I just feel weird about a fake marriage. I can get all the women I want. I could probably have any woman in this hotel right now."

  "Victoria is not just any woman - she's a beautiful woman and her dad has a lot of connections. And it hurts your image to be seen with different women. You need one woman, preferably one who can help you politically."

  "Yeah, Vic Lobos - the notorious gangster. If your name is Victor, why would you name your daughter Victoria? Pretty arrogant."

  "He's not a gangster, and keep your voice down." She looked around. I hated when she got all twitchy like that. I wondered if she came out of the womb twitching and nervous.

  "And you're one to talk about arrogance."

  She had a point.

  The hotel bar was mostly empty, anyway. The bartender was wiping glasses and looking at them in the light, and the only patrons were old ladies drinking at 7am - mimosas and what looked like a Bloody Mary.

  About what I expected in my hometown, and it's one of the big reasons why I left 10 years ago. I kept a residence in Manchester in one of my hotels, but this small New Hampshire town near the Canadian border was actually where I was born and raised.

  The only thing I had going for me when I left was a girl I dated briefly. I'd already been accepted to the Naval Academy, so I couldn't back out, and she'd already been accepted to college. My family moved to Massachusetts and I lost track of the girl. Too bad, I wouldn't mind a run-in with an old friend. I'd take any chance to get away from the stuffy VIP lineup that Evelyn had planned.

  "I'm going to introduce Victoria tonight from the stage - the stage is set up, right?"

  "I have no idea, Eve, that's your job."

  "I'll check with that portly IT manager, what's her name?" she snapped her fingers and looked down, "Lisa! I'll check with Lisa. Oh, and this blizzard is putting a wrench in my gears, Daryl. We might need a few things. I've got a list - can you have the driver run down to the store to pick these up?"

  Perfect. That was my chance to get out for a while.

  "You know what, Eve," I grabbed the list out of her hand and lifted it high when she tried to take it back, "I'll go myself."

  "Daryl! You're booked solid."

  "Eve, I need some air. And I'm not booked until 8, right? It's still early, but you probably don't know that when you never sleep."

  "Ha ha." She pursed her lips and shook her head. "I need you here. Just have your driver go?"

  "The conference is in 1 hour and she's STILL not here!" Lisa, the IT manager, said into her cell as she came into the bar and laid out some papers on a table. She gets a bit uptight, I'm told. I hadn't met her in-person until yesterday, but I'd had several phone chats and email conversations with her leading up to the conference. I had several things I wanted, including WiFi everywhere and a seamless experience for the guests, especially the VIPs that I was here to impress. Or that I was told to impress.

  Impressing VIPs was something I did every day, even though Eve seemed to think I needed help.

  I touched Lisa on the elbow and she jerked around. She was about to give me the what-for until she recognized who it was, she softened, put her finger up and told the person on the other end that she would call them back.

  "Is there going to be a problem with the conference?"

  "What? No! It's just that, uh, this girl that we've had on contract off and on for the past year is sometimes a little late."

  "Is she late now?"

  "She was supposed to be here an hour ago."

  "Where is she? I'll go get her."

  "No, no, Mr. Dinero, you don't want to go out in the snow. It's not quite a blizzard yet but it's coming down pretty heavy right now." Lisa was a portly woman in her late 40s and her whole body seemed to jiggle as she protested. She nodded towards Eve. "She doesn't look like sh
e's happy about something. Maybe you should stay here."

  "I appreciate the concern, Lisa, but Evelyn is ALWAYS unhappy," I smiled at her and touched her arm again. She blushed and looked down. Her perfume smelled like something that was popular when she was in high school 30 years ago.

  "You're sure?"

  "Of course. My Bentley has the best all wheel drive that money can buy. I've got a list of things that Evelyn needs," I craned my neck and raised my voice, "so I was going out anyway." Evelyn rolled her eyes, looked at her watch, and sighed again. "I'll be out and back faster than anyone else you could send."

  She was torn - on the one hand, she needed someone to go out there and I was right, my SUV would easily handle the snow; on the other hand, I was the boss and she shouldn't send me on errands. Her needs won out.

  "Well, okay!" she agreed with wide eyes and a head shake that jiggled her whole body again. "Her name is Ms. LeCroix. She's out on Old Plymouth Road, near where it crosses Exeter. You know where that is?"

  "No, but my car does," I smiled again and turned. "I'll be back in two shakes of a lamb's tail."

  "Daryl! Don't be late for the meeting with Judge Chalmers. He's very influential, you know, so you need to -"

  "Sorry, Eve, but I've got to go. There's a stranded lady and it might make us look bad if we let someone stay stuck out in this weather, wouldn't it? Besides, she's super important and our conference might look second-rate if she's not here. Isn't that right, Lisa?"

  Lisa was back on her phone but looked up with a vigorous nod.

  "I don't- I can't - " Evelyn was used to getting her way, a luxury I'm sure she enjoyed most of her 65 years. She looked great for her age - her hair was still long, unlike most ladies her age, and she let it gray gracefully instead of those awful dye jobs older women get. Her business suit was fitted, and she was trim for a woman of her age. She still went to the gym a few days a week. I honestly don't know where she got all that energy.

  "Just reschedule with the honorable judge, Eve. Tell him there's a damsel in distress. I'll be back in a while."

  "I don't like it, but we need to pull this off." She looked at her watch and her phone chimed. She looked at it. "Shit, I don't have time for this. Lisa, you really need this girl?"

  "Yes, ma'am. She leads the team that sets up all the electronics. If you want a stage, lighting, sound-"

  Eve put her hand up to stop Lisa from enumerating her list. She looked at me with those graying eyes and waved me off. "Go on, now, you've got a lot on your plate today. Don't doddle."

  Evelyn rushed off and I shook my head. I was glad to have some time to myself. I was looking forward to getting out of there for a bit. I can't be "on" all the time.

  I called my chauffeur. "Hey, Blake, I need the keys to the Bentayga."

  "Yes, sir. I'll pull the Bentley around front for you, sir."

  Chapter 2

  Wendy

  Some days you think life is just out to screw you over any way it can.

  Take today, for example. The snow storm knocked the power out over night and my alarm didn't go off. I got up an hour late and my boyfriend, Calvin, didn't wake me up. He was already up and dressed and eating breakfast - eggs and bacon and waffles, but only enough for himself.

  The smell of breakfast spread through the tiny apartment, and that's actually what woke me up.

  I jumped out of bed and ran to the kitchen in my bra and panties. "What the hell, Cal?" I protested, arms out, eyes wide.

  "Wendy, I told you to put a battery in your alarm clock. Jeez, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to be late," he said and sliced off a chunk of waffle and made a show of putting it in his mouth and rolling his eyes like it was the best waffle he'd ever eaten.

  "You're not my dad, Cal," I made a sour face and stomped my way over to the Keurig. We were out of pods.

  "You drank the last coffee?"

  "Sure did." He pursed his lips and slurped on his mug.

  "You asshole!"

  "Me? You were supposed to go shopping. But you decided you were too fat when you were drunk two nights ago and said you were going to cut out coffee."

  "I wasn't drunk. And I'm not fat." I ran my hands over my hips and breasts. "I'm big and beautiful." I pouted my lips and smacked my ass. This usually gets a laugh out of Cal. Especially when I'm wearing granny panties.

  He wasn't amused.

  "Wendy, you ARE fat."

  I stopped. "What? Are you serious right now? Because you'd better not be serious."

  He cleaned up his egg yolk with the last of his waffle and chewed while he talked. "No, I am serious. I've wanted to tell you for a while, but I didn't want to hurt your feelings. But you've been acting like a spoiled brat and I'm sick of it." He put his fork down and put his hands under his chin and waited.

  "I'm not fat. You're an asshole."

  "You used to love my honesty."

  "Is that what you call it when you're nasty to someone you supposedly love?" Ha! Chew on that, Cal!

  "Yeah, about that, my therapist says, and it's probably as good a time as any to tell you, that we should have a trial separation."

  "What? We're not married, you can't have a trial separation if you're not married." I sneered at him.

  "Don't argue semantics, Wendy. You know what I mean."

  "You come in here and you treat me like shit, you're always mean, you don't do nice things for me anymore, and now you say that your therapist tells you that YOU should leave ME? Where'd you find this lady, in a box of Cracker Jacks?"

  "He's a guy, and he's the best therapist in town. Look, I know you're late and all, but I'd appreciate if you packed up a suitcase and found a place to stay."

  My head just about exploded.

  "Me?" I yelled and went over to him and slapped his arm. "Me? YOU get out!" I was straight up yelling at that point. "Why would I leave my apartment?"

  "Your apartment?" He stood up, put his fork and knife on his plate, set them in the sink, and rinsed them. He shook his head. "No, babe. Not YOUR apartment. My name is on the lease, and my name alone. Remember, your credit was really bad and we didn't want to use your name on the application?"

  Fuck me. I sank back into a chair. I looked up at Cal. "You're not really going to kick me out, are you, baby?" I reached for him and he backed away.

  "See, I knew this would happen, Wendy. You're a flake and you're a bomb that's always about to explode. You don't take things well, nothing's ever your fault... I knew you'd try to manipulate me into letting you stay."

  "Please?"

  "I already packed your suitcase. I did it a week ago. You're such a slob that you didn't notice. You never put your stuff away - you live out of a laundry basket, for chrissakes!"

  "Hey, you're one to talk-"

  He opened the hall closet door and pulled out a suitcase. "Take this and get out, Wendy. Stay at your mom's place - you're paying for it, anyway. I don't care. Stay the night in that hotel you're working at today. Aren't you, like, really late for work? Isn't that Lisa lady going to freak out on you again? If you keep screwing up, she's going to promote Jeff over you."

  Fuck fuck fuck.

  I didn't need this. And who is he to talk to me like that? I've been the breadwinner for the last six months while he was on disability for his "bad back." I mean, his surgery was six months ago, get over it. And I've also been helping my mom pay her bills so she doesn't lose her trailer. I didn't have money to stay in a hotel.

  "Okay," I said. "Okay, I don't need you, anyway. You're no catch, either - you're unemployed and you just lay around here like a slug."

  "I do all the cooking and cleaning and I had 2 discs fused in my spine!"

  "Yeah, six months ago."

  "Get out. Call me when you want your stuff. I'll put it in boxes and leave it on the deck."

  "Cal-"

  "Get OUT."

  "Fine," I said, holding back tears. "Fine, I'll leave." I was still standing in my underwear. "I just need some clothes. Where's t
he laundry basket?"

  My car door was frozen shut. I pulled and pulled and it finally came loose, but it pulled some of the rubber out - again. I cursed it, started the car, it puked some blue smoke for a couple of minutes while it warmed up and while I scraped the windshield and knocked as much snow off of it as I could.

  Cal usually warmed my car up for me.

  Who needs him? I don't. I got a little overly dependent on him, that's all. That was my mistake, trusting him, a guy that treated me like shit.

  My stomach growled. Cal usually made me breakfast, too. I didn't have time to stop, but I needed gas so I decided I'd just stop at Cumberland Farms and pick up a quick breakfast and eat it on the go.

  If I was lucky, my friend, Bill, would be there. I flirted with him and he gave me free stuff. I mean, I'd never fuck him, but he always stared at my tits so I used it to my advantage.

  The snow was really coming down. The hotel was only a few miles away, but Cumberland was in the opposite direction. I didn't have much money on me so I banked on getting some free food, even if it was going to make me later.

  What the hell, I'm late already, what's another few minutes? That old hag, Lisa, would live.

  I ended up behind a plow and that probably saved me a few minutes, but I told myself to lie to Lisa and tell her that a plow slowed me down, but isn't it better to be safe than sorry? I decided I'd call her after I gassed up and had a little breakfast. Besides, I was still a little riled up about getting kicked out by that jerk, Cal.

  I started the pump on 87 octane, checked my makeup in the side view mirror, and went inside, ready to flirt with Bill. The door chimed when I walked in and I froze.

  There was a pimply faced girl there. Late teens, early twenties, I'd guess. She was chewing gum with her mouth open. The smell of the convenient store hit me, but with a subtle difference - the smell of girly perfume instead of Bill's deodorant.