His Black Sheep Bride / The Billionaire Baby Bombshell: His Black Sheep Bride / The Billionaire Baby Bombshell. Anna DePalo

looked suddenly mischievous. “Do you really want to know?”

      She raised her brows inquiringly.

      “The birth of my great-grandmother’s sixth and last child.”

      Her eyes widened. “Oh, well …”

      “Quite.” His eyes laughed at her. “One doesn’t get to be the twelfth in a direct line of successive earls without ample fertility along the way.”

      “Perhaps you should be seeking a woman who will better accommodate you in the … fecundity department.”

      His eyes crinkled. “Perhaps you suit my needs just fine.”

      She was unsettled by his cryptic reply, but before she could respond, he picked up her ring hand and raised it to his mouth, kissing the pad of each finger individually.

      Her eyes widened as a shiver chased through her.

      “Someone I know just walked into the restaurant,” he murmured, a twinkle in his eyes.

      She shot him a skeptical look. “Of course.”

      “You doubt me?”

      She extracted her hand from his loose grip. “Should I?”

      Sawyer chuckled, and just then a waiter materialized with a bread basket, followed by their regular server with their wine.

      When they were both sipping Pinot Grigio, Tamara attempted to put their conversation on a more businesslike footing. “Tell me about the details that you’ve obviously called me here to discuss.”

      He arched a brow. “Your patience has run out? Very well, let’s start with Pink Teddy Designs. How much is your lease costing you?”

      She relaxed a little, lowering her shoulders. So Sawyer had come here to make good on his promises.

      “Too much,” she repeated.

      “It’s a fashionable address—an astute business move.”

      “Thank you.”

      “I’ll cosign your lease renewal.”

      Her eyes widened. “How did—?”

      He looked at her quizzically. “How did I know the lease was your most pressing concern, you mean? A few discreet inquiries to the landlord netted information on current rents—and the fact that they were going up.”

      “Lovely,” she said acerbically. “I didn’t realize my lease was information available to the press!”

      Sawyer’s lips twisted wryly. “It’s not, but I happen to know the head of Rockridge Management.”

      She made a disgruntled reply.

      “You’ll also need a cash infusion.”

      Tamara compressed her lips. Knowing it was best not to look a gift horse in the mouth, however, she forced herself to hold her tongue.

      Sawyer considered her. “How does two million dollars for initial financing sound?”

      Tamara swallowed. She’d only fantasized about having that kind of cash on hand.

      “No strings attached?” she queried.

      Sawyer inclined his head in acknowledgment.

      Of course, she reminded herself, they both knew that Sawyer wouldn’t expect repayment of the money. She had bargained away something else. She’d agreed to a sham marriage.

      She cleared her throat. “Thank you … I think. I can promise I’ll put the money to good use.” And then because she didn’t want him to have the impression that she was completely without resources, she added, “I just met with a client this morning, actually.”

      When Sawyer looked at her inquiringly, she elaborated, “It was a hedge-fund wife who recently opened her own boutique in the Hamptons. She bought a bracelet for herself and selected a few other pieces to carry in her store.”

      Just then their waiter reappeared, and asked if they were ready to order.

      Tamara belatedly realized she hadn’t even looked at the menu, but because she’d been to Balthazar before, she ordered the smoked salmon from memory. Sawyer, after a few idle inquiries of their waiter, ordered the grilled branzini.

      Afterward, Tamara braced herself and looked at Sawyer squarely. “I suppose we should discuss the wedding itself.”

      He smiled faintly. “I’ll leave the details to you. I understand many women have preconceived ideas of what their wedding should look like.”

      Yes, and in her case, the idea had never been a sham marriage contracted to a very proper British earl.

      On top of it all, Sawyer was also a press baron in her father’s mold. She could hardly get any closer to exactly what she didn’t want.

      Sawyer studied her. “It seems only fitting, though, that the marriage of the Earl and Countess of Melton occur at Gantswood Hall, the ancestral home of the earls of Melton.”

      Tamara resisted pointing out that it was hardly necessary to go to such trouble for what would be a short-lived marriage. But then again, she’d been half expecting Sawyer’s proposition of a proper British wedding. “Very well. I suppose the sooner, the better.”

      Sawyer’s lips quirked. “Anxious, are you?”

      “The sooner we begin, the sooner the corporate merger will occur and we can be done with this.”

      “How about next week then?”

      Tamara shook her head. “Pia would have a heart attack. I already asked her to help plan the wedding. Three weeks.”

      “You and Pia Lumley are close.”

      It wasn’t a question, but a statement. Tamara nodded anyway. “Pia is a dear friend and one of the best bridal consultants around. She also needs all the help that she can get now that—” her voice darkened “—your fiendish friend the Marquess of Easterbridge ruined Belinda’s wedding day.”

      Sawyer laughed. “‘Fiendish friend’? You certainly have a way with alliteration.”

      “Don’t change the subject,” Tamara snapped back. “Your friends seem to come in one stripe only—namely, villainous.”

      Sawyer arched a brow.

      “I suppose you’re chummy with the Duke of Hawkshire, too?”

      “Yes, but not with his alias, Mr. Fielding.”

      “Very funny.”

      “Since we’re on the subject of our marriage,” Sawyer said drily, “what have you told your friends?”

      “Pia and Belinda?” Tamara responded. “They know the truth, and they’ve already said they’ll be at any wedding to support me.”

      “Splendid.”

      “We’ll need a referee if, as I assume, your titled compatriots will make an appearance, too.”

      Sawyer inclined his head. “I imagine Hawk and Colin will be there, schedules permitting.”

      “Everyone else, including my mother and sisters,” Tamara said determinedly, “will believe that for reasons known only to me, I’ve decided that you are Mr. Right.”

      “Since Hawk has already claimed the moniker Mr. Fielding, I’ll settle for Mr. Right without qualm,” Sawyer quipped.

      Tamara eyed him doubtfully. “Well, I’m glad that’s all resolved—anything else?”

      “Since you mention it—”

      Tamara tensed. “Yes?”

      “There is the small matter of where we’ll reside after the wedding.”

      Tamara felt her stomach