The Wedding Belle (Colorado Billionaires Book 4) Page 5

  Belle flinched at the word.

  “What’s wrong? You don’t like rich people?”

  “No, I like them just fine. One of them just hired me for a million bucks.” She had a thought and looked at him hopefully. “You’re a lot richer than a doctor, aren’t you?”

  Uly blew air through his lips like a pony. “Are you kidding? I could buy a doctor, lock, stock and stethoscope. In fact, that’s why my brother and I were saddled with this fundraising thing. They’re hoping we’ll get all our rich friends together and build a fund so the hospital can spend it buying doctors.”

  “Hiring doctors,” Belle corrected automatically.

  “Of course. So we’re on for tomorrow? We’ve got a deal?”

  “We’ve got a pre-deal,” said Belle. “You said it yourself. I have to agree to the written terms.” She held out her hand for a shake.

  Uly took it, shook twice, and paused.

  Belle blushed. His hand was warm and dry. “I may need this hand later, when I’m spending your money on clothes.”

  “Sorry.” Uly let go. “You’re an orphan, aren’t you?”

  This time, Belle didn’t bother closing her mouth. She just gaped.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Uly was gratified to see his guess was right.

  Belle sputtered, “How did you know that?”

  Uly smiled smugly. “You’re twenty-two, you just made a strange deal with a strange man, and you haven’t mentioned once what your mother will think of it all. Therefore, there is no mother. Father?”

  Belle shook her head. “Orphan.”

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. It feels normal to me. Besides, I don’t have to come up with excuses for avoiding family dinners.”

  “Touché.”

  “What about your wheelchair?” asked Belle. “Are your ribs healed enough to tolerate your crutches while we’re traveling?”

  Uly frowned. This was not the time to admit to her that his ankle wasn’t as bad as he let on. What if she got angry and stormed out? What would he do then? You couldn’t just walk into a bridal shop and buy a bride. His gaze drifted to the wheelchair, then back to his ankle. “My ribs are a lot better, and I won’t be hiking mountain trails, just moving from car to plane, so I think I can do crutches for short distances.”

  Belle wagged a finger at him. “As long as you promise not to put any weight on that ankle. Do you need me for anything else?”

  Uly cut his sarcasm off at the pass and shook his head. “I’m good.”

  “Set your alarm to remind you to take your pain meds around ten. Call me if you need me.”

  “You know—” He paused.

  Belle waited.

  Uly shrugged it off. “Never mind.”

  “Out with it.”

  “Oh, I was just thinking, if we’re going to pretend to be married and all, you could have the second bedroom here in the suite.”

  Belle tilted her head to one side. “When we get back from Vegas, that’s a great plan. But not tonight. I’ll be back to check on you at eight a.m., if you don’t call me first. Good night.” She folded the hundred dollar bills and used them to wave good-bye.

  Uly watched her go. After the door closed, he heaved a great sigh. Maybe he could just sleep there on the sofa. He wanted to clean up, but he was exhausted. Stupid cast. That would teach him to tell a lie without thinking it all the way through. He snorted. He hadn’t really thought any of his lies through, when it came right down to it. That’s why he was in this mess.

  A knock at the door came a second before Belle opened it. “Hey, go to bed. I’ll help you clean up in the morning.”

  “How did you know what I was thinking?”

  “I’m a nurse, remember? I always have to be a step ahead of my patients.” She paused, then moved into the room. “Here. Let’s get you into the bedroom. Do you need help changing?”

  Uly allowed himself to be transferred into the wheelchair and pushed into the bedroom. “I thought you were done for the night,” he said wearily.

  “That was my inner banker. Running with the money. This is my inner nurse. Where are your pajamas?”

  Uly took hold of the wheels and moved the chair effortlessly to the dresser. “I can take it from here,” he said.

  Belle propped a hand on one hip and cast an appraising eye at her patient. “I figured you could move that chair when you needed to. Glad to see I was right.” She fetched his crutches. “Here. Now, promise me, no hopping. Use your crutches. Have you been showering by yourself?”

  Uly felt suddenly embarrassed. He didn’t want to tell her he’d been using a wash cloth at the sink. “I make do.”

  Belle nodded. “Wait for me in the morning, okay? I don’t want you falling in the shower while your mother is paying for my nursing skills.”

  Uly saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Belle almost smiled.

  “Hold on there,” said Uly. “I saw that. Your lip twitched.”

  Belle’s features softened into a smile. “Don’t forget to take your pain pills before you fall asleep, or your body will wake you up in the middle of the night.”

  Uly’s brows rose. That’s why he hadn’t been sleeping well. Son of a gun. “Thanks. I’ll remember.”

  “Is it all right if I keep this key?”

  “Yes. Saves me from making it to the door.”

  “Okay. Good night.”

  And she was gone.

  Uly spent a few moments imagining what his shower would be like in the morning with Belle assisting. But he soon realized he was in no condition to entertain such fantasies. Besides, he was bone tired. He took pajama bottoms out of the drawer, his concession to knowing she would arrive at eight in the morning, and struggled to pull them on over his cast. At last, in a fit of temper he grabbed the hem and yanked at the seam. The cotton ripped with a satisfying sound, and he slipped them on. He set his alarm, made sure his bottles of medication were on the night stand, then settled into bed.

  He lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling where light from the parking lot below danced in patterns across the tiles.

  “Who am I kidding?” He was tired, but he wasn’t sleepy. He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. He needed some noise in the background, something to drown out his thoughts. One thing kept popping up, something Belle said about his father telling someone he was married, and whose business was it, anyway? It did seem a strange thing for Rudy to do. Or did it seem strange because Uly’s mind was fogged with pain meds? He just couldn’t think straight. But they did make his body feel better.

  When his phone pinged, he dutifully took his pills. Fog or no fog, it would be nice to sleep all night.

  ****

  Belle sat cross-legged on her hotel bed and laid the hundreds out in a pattern before her with Ben Franklin face-up. Did he even know how much money he’d given her? Were all rich people so casual about handing out cash? She touched each one with her finger as she counted them for the tenth time.

  “Eighteen, nineteen, twenty.”

  Two thousand dollars from his wallet! And he hadn’t even counted. How fat was that wad of cash? And what about the one Polly had given her? She flipped through that one and her heart raced. Five grand! But that was for nursing expenses. She put that money away and returned to counting Uly’s bills.

  She still had to get up early and make sure her nursing duties were taken care of. And then she’d take an hour for herself and find that boutique. She needed clothes if she was headed for Vegas. She scooted off the bed and retrieved a pen and notepad from the highboy that held the TV. She’d make a list. That would save her time at the shop.

  She glanced at the clock. Ten p.m. Too late to be calling anyone. Not that she had anyone to call. She didn’t even need to check in with the unemployment office until Friday. She just longed for some conversation.

  She spent some time wondering what it would be like to have a set of interfering parents making your life difficult right and left with their ga
mes and their business deals. Uly didn’t seem to mind. He was probably used to it. And she’d learned over the years that many considered those entanglements to be proof of a parent’s love.

  Being an orphan hadn’t been bad. She was always well cared for. Once she came to terms with the fact that adoptive parents wanted lively, social little girls, things got easier. She could avoid the scary mess of moving into a strange home with strange people simply by being her own reclusive self. Also, they tended to prefer the healthy ones. Her teen years had been a nightmare of doctors and surgeries. She shuddered at the thought. The nurses who cared for her had been her inspiration. They’d made such a difference in her life, at a time when she most needed caring and compassionate people. They were the reason she’d chosen nursing.

  Once she finished high school, she got a job and paid for college herself. The first year had been the hardest, but everything had worked out. And in college, she’d found that there were lots of sarcastic loners out there. So many, in fact, that she was in danger of losing the label “loner” because there was always someone to hang out with. And what do you know? Most of them had parents and siblings!

  She took a moment to read through her list of items. Shoes. She should add at least one pair of shoes. At the end of the list, she let her mind wander and began writing question marks all over the paper.

  Was she doing the right thing? Was she getting into a situation she would regret?

  She tapped each of the hundreds with the tip of one finger.

  No. It was a job, like any other. A job that would pay her a million dollars. A job with legal fringe benefits, access to a lawyer to give her advice. Or maybe even a team of lawyers! She’d be able to thumb her nose at Doctor Holier-Than-Thou Zivo. She’d emerge unscathed from the threatened legal proceedings.

  She would do what she had to do to take care of herself. She gathered the cash into a tidy pile and folded it once. It felt even more substantial that way. She was about to tuck it into her purse when something caught her eye. On the back of the outside bill, someone had written a message in ink. She held it under the lamp by the bed and read, “Positive. Pls call.” She’d seen dollar bills with messages before, but usually someone had jotted down their location. She’d never seen an actual coherent message on money before. Mysterious, but probably not a big deal. Even so, she would ask Uly about it the next day in case it was some kind of sentimental memento and he’d passed it on accidentally. She made a cozy home for the money in her purse.

  Her thoughts returned to her patient. Uly seemed like a nice guy. And those muscles! She’d shoved those thoughts down deep once she took on nursing responsibilities. But alone in her hotel room, she let her mind drift to the biggest plus of the situation. Ulysses Garrison was the hottest guy she’d ever met. And they were going to Vegas!

  A part of her squirmed uncomfortably at the reason for the trip. She was going to marry the man for money. Belle shook off the uneasy feeling. These people were billionaires. The rich were different. If you need to look married, you buy a bride. Easy-peasy. Besides, she wasn’t selling herself for money. She’d make sure the legal contract made that clear. She was selling the appearance of being married. She was already the man’s nurse. That would give them a sense of intimacy. She could do this. And at the end of a year, she would collect a million dollars.

  Would she be set for life? Her forehead crinkled in silent computation. Maybe she should have asked for two million. But that was such a huge number, she couldn’t wrap her mind around it. One million would be enough. Especially if she got legal fees paid by Uly. After all, lawyers could eat up a million dollars before she even had to go to court! She’d insist on adding that detail to the contract.

  She got ready for bed, trying not to think about Uly’s muscled arms. He’d been working on an oil rig. She got an image of those hunky shoulders and biceps gleaming with oil, and immediately she felt heat rush to her cheeks. That wouldn’t do at all. She needed to get some sleep, not lie awake half the night thinking about Uly.

  She turned up the air conditioner so she could snuggle in her blankets. Then she took her purse to bed with her, and she fell asleep with her hand on the stack of hundred dollar bills tucked inside.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Tuesday, 7:59 a.m.

  Belle knocked sharply on the door of Uly’s suite, then stood waiting. After a few seconds, she put her ear to the door. He’d sounded awake when he answered his phone at 7:45. She’d called to remind him to take his meds prior to her arrival.

  She knocked again. “Uly? It’s Belle.”

  Silence.

  Well, he knew she was coming. She looked down at her scrub pants and tee shirt, the only clean clothes she had left, then pulled the suite key out of her purse and slipped it into the lock. When the light turned green, she opened the door.

  “Uly! Are you all right?” She dropped her purse and the blue plastic stocking at the door.

  He was spread eagled on the floor between the sofa and the kitchenette. One crutch had fallen against the sofa. The other lay next to him. “I’m okay.” He sounded angry.

  Belle translated that anger into embarrassment. He was bare-chested, and one leg of his pajamas had been torn to allow for his cast. Since the elastic waistband was resting south of the equator, Belle guessed what had happened. He’d somehow set a crutch down on the loose flap of cloth and it threw him off balance. She schooled her features into her Professional Nurse expression and gathered the crutches.

  Uly was already pushing himself off the floor, making a tripod with his arms and his good leg.

  “Lean on me,” said Belle. “Good.” When he was upright, she placed his crutches on either side of him. “That better?”

  “Thanks,” said Uly, abashed. “For not making a big deal out of it.”

  Belle shrugged. “It could happen to anyone.” She pretended not to see anything as Uly tugged his pajama bottoms up. “Ready to clean up?”

  “I was hoping for coffee first.”

  “I’ll call room service. We’ll have you washed, dried, and dressed before they get to the door.”

  “Really?” He sounded impressed.

  Belle assumed a ninja pose. “Supernurse, at your service.”

  Uly grinned. “You don’t look very nurse-like in scrub pants and a tee shirt.”

  “It’s all the clean clothing I had left. I had to make do. You’re lucky I didn’t show up in my running shorts.”

  Uly moved slowly toward the bedroom. “I’m not sure ‘lucky’ is the word I’d use.”

  Belle was as good as her word. She put the blue plastic protector over his cast and stood close by for support as he showered. By the time the waiter showed up, Uly was washed, shampooed, and dressed in stonewashed denim, tidily cut by Belle to allow for the cast, and a tailored cotton shirt. He crutched to the sofa to don his single sock and shoe.

  Belle went to the door for coffee and the breakfast tray.

  “Coffee table?”

  “No. Let’s sit at the big people’s table today,” quipped Uly. He moved to the table and settled onto a chair, then handed a tip to the waiter.

  When they were alone again, Belle said, “You’re starting to get the hang of those things.”

  Uly blew air out in a whoosh. “This broken bone stuff ain’t for sissies. Good Lord, I’m having to use a whole different set of muscles to make those crutches work.”

  “So, maybe the wheelchair was for more than drama after all?”

  Uly poured two cups of coffee. “Thanks for all your help. I didn’t know how much I needed it until this morning.”

  “You took your meds?”

  “Yes. Probably how I tangled with those crutches. Brain fog, you know?”

  “Just keep taking them. And don’t go shirtless in front of your mother unless you really want to freak her out. You’re all purple and yellow.”

  Uly looked down automatically, as if he could see through his shirt. “I am?”

  “All around
your ribcage and your back.” Belle didn’t mention that she’d seen plenty of examples of pummeled flesh in the ER, and she was pretty certain that Uly had a lot more to tell about his injuries. He may have fallen as he claimed, but she would bet her forthcoming million dollars that someone’s fists had helped him on his way. But she didn’t press it. Instead she asked, “How high did you say you were when you fell?”

  Uly made a face, as if it were no big deal. “Forty, fifty feet. But I didn’t fall directly to the ground.” He avoided her gaze.

  Belle put a pastry on her plate. The height had doubled overnight. “Gee, a fall from that height could easily be fatal.”

  “Tell me about it. I kept grabbing for something to hang onto. I almost stopped myself, but I lost my grip and dropped the last fifteen feet. Landed wrong on that ankle.” He still wouldn’t look her in the eye.

  Belle felt questions bubble up, but she decided Uly’d had enough excitement for one morning. She took a bite of her bear claw.

  Uly’s phone buzzed on the table. He ignored it.

  Belle waited until it buzzed a third time before asking, “You avoiding someone?”

  “It’s my mother. I’d better take it.” He looked miserable.

  Belle grinned. “I’ll give you some privacy.” She picked up her coffee and her plate and moved into the kitchenette. She perched on a leather stool and enjoyed her breakfast. Now that Uly was taken care of for the moment, she was looking forward to shopping for clothes. Her list was in her purse with the Benjamins.

  At last, Uly hung up.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Sure. Same old routine. She calls to tell me about the baby and about Ashley. Is it common for women to suffer depression after giving birth?”

  “Well, let’s just say it’s not uncommon. Did you tell your mother we’re going to Vegas?”

  Uly averted his eyes. “Not exactly.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He gave her a sheepish look. “It means no. I didn’t tell her.”