Ashlee Mallory
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EXTRA MATERIAL!

Extra Epilogue & Deleted Scenes!

HOW NOT TO MARRY A BILLIONAIRE 
Extended and Deleted Scene!

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Read the new extended Epilogue in Mike's POV! Then keep on reading for the deleted prologue where we see why Mike ends up in Hawaii!

Mike


Later that night…

I studied the woman sleeping soundly next to me, wondering how I had gotten so lucky.

Jane Carmichael was beautiful, smart, funny, and had somehow made me start to believe that maybe I could have everything after all. Just like my parents and my grandparents before them.

From the moment she’d tripped over those heels in the bar, Jane had had my immediate attention. She was beautiful and sexy in a way that reminded me of the stars in the black and white movies that my nan loved watching.

And although I’d dated many beautiful women in my life, there’d been something different about her from the start, something I couldn’t put my finger on any more than Nan had been able to identify when she’d seen my gramps.

Then Jane had gone and smugly kicked my ass at Trivia night, and I knew that this was a woman who I had to get to know—regardless of how misguided and deluded she’d been with her ridiculous plans to marry a billionaire.

Sure, I could have told Jane that I was loaded and could probably buy the fortune of Brennan Thornock Junior three times over, but then I’d never know if she actually loved me because of who I was—or what I had.

I’m not proud of the deception, but it had been a necessary evil. Because now I knew that she loved me for me. And Lord knows that I loved this woman, a love that was growing every minute of every day, whether we were together or apart.

Jane sighed and rolled over onto her back, just as a slight buzzing snore broke the silence of her room—a room that I probably should be sneaking out of so she could keep up the pretense for my family that we were not sleeping together.

Although to be fair, sleeping is not exactly what we were doing.

I leaned down and kissed her open mouth, then ducked as she swatted blindly at me with her hand. I chuckled as she narrowly missed, a sound that drew her out of her slumber as one blue eye opened, then the other.

Her lips curved into a breathtaking smile that had me abandoning my previous plan to sneak out to my own room. “Did I fall asleep?”

“Just a little,” I said and nuzzled her neck.

“You know what I’m thinking we should do?” she asked, running her hand through my hair.

“I have a few thoughts,” I said, getting bolder.

She laughed. “No. Not that. I’m thinking that I could really do with a slice of that banana cream pie we had for dinner.”

I flopped down next to her. “Have I really been upstaged by pie?”

“It’s really good pie.”

Now that she mentioned it, we’d burned off enough calories in the past two hours that I could definitely use a little more fuel.
The house was dark as we crept down barefoot to the kitchen, Jane in my shirt and me in a pair of old PJ pants I kept here for when I visited.

Admittedly, it had been a while since I’d been back to my parent’s home since, before Hawaii, I usually stayed in my office in Manhattan. But being here with Jane, introducing her to my mom and dad, not to mention my grandparents for brunch, it reminded me of how much I loved Portsmouth. And maybe it was time I found a place of my own here.

Not that there wasn’t plenty of space for us here, since the house had twelve guest rooms, but it would be nice to have a place that would give me and Jane the privacy to be standing in this kitchen naked if we wanted to.

She was staring into the fridge, the light from inside outlining the curves of a body that I was coming to know almost as well as my own. “I think I could have some ribs to go with that pie,” she said, unaware of my thoughts.

“Grab whatever you want. Tomorrow I’ll take you to this little place in Maine for lunch where they have the best lobster and Cheddar Bay biscuits in the world.”

“Maine? Do we have time to get there and back to the airport to make our flight?”

I smiled indulgently. Should I tell her about the private helipad and helicopter my parents owned that would get us wherever we needed in a heartbeat? Or the private jet my parents also had access to that would make sure we got back to Tucson well before her client’s court date the following day?

Nah. It would be more fun to show her in person and see the shock on her face. Just like the shock that had registered when I pulled up to my parent’s house and she’d looked almost ready to faint.

I smiled as I thought about what her reaction would be when I took her to my lodge in Montana next weekend. Or my penthouse in Manhattan the week after that. Maybe the Paris apartment for Thanksgiving.

The possibilities were endless—just as our entire life together would be. Filled with endless possibilities.

I walked up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist, enjoying how she sank against my chest, her head fit perfectly under my chin, her light feminine scent reminding me of other things I wanted to get to doing.

“We’ll have plenty of time to do whatever we want. But speaking of time, don’t you think that ours might be better spent doing things other than standing here? I’m very hungry,” I said, nipping at her ear.

She laughed. “I bet you are.” She took a step forward and grabbed the container of ribs and another container filled with a macaroni salad and shoved them in my arms, then grabbed the pie. “Here, make yourself useful while I dish us up dessert.”

Ten minutes later, with the food we’d snuck from the kitchen spread out on a blanket on the floor, I was trying not to stare at the gap in the shirt she was wearing that revealed a tantalizing amount of skin while she nibbled at a rib.

“You have to stop staring at me like that,” she said and laughed.

“Like what?”

“Like how I look at pie.”

“Is that a problem?” I asked, my voice dangerously raspy and low. She was killing me. I’d scarfed down five ribs and a few bites of salad in the space of time for her to eat two ribs, and I was ready to get on with my own dessert.

Her.

She seemed to sense the change in my mood as her face flushed pink, the rib now forgotten in her hand. “I guess I could be convinced to put off having my pie, as long as you can answer one little question.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Shoot.”

She dropped the rib on the plate, taking her time as she licked her fingers, studying me for a long moment.

“What do you call…” she said as she slowly leaned toward me, “…a group of hippos?”

I blinked, taking a moment to process the fact that she was testing my trivia.

She must think I’m an amateur.

I leaned forward and dabbed at a drop of barbecue sauce she’d left on her cheek. “That my dear would be something called…a bloat.”
Her eyes widened. “Impressive. And what about—”

But whatever trivia she was about to ask next was muffled when I leaned forward covered her mouth with mine in a long, and sensuous kiss.

When I pulled back, her blue eyes were clouded with passion. “Sorry about that. Maybe I should just leave you to your pie.”

She smiled, a glimmer of mischief entering her eyes that I recognized too late when she smeared banana cream pie on my chest. “Who said I can’t enjoy two things at once?”

I grinned widely. “I knew I liked the way you think.”
​
Yep. Life with Jane was never going to be boring, and I looked forward to the adventures we would have together.
​
* * *


DELETED PROLOGUE

One month earlier


Mike

It had to be one of the lamest jokes I’d ever said out loud.

But being who I am, Michael Holloway, heir to Holloway International, formerly known as Holloway Chemicals, the audience of eager-faced women surrounding me bubbled with laughter.

Among them, of course, was Shannon Buchanon, a raven-haired beauty who’d been attending every event I’d been to in the previous months since breaking off my engagement. The woman was relentless in trying to reel me in, enough so that when she conveniently ran into me at a business lunch one week ago, I’d started wondering if she’d secretly installed a tracking beacon on me.

I seriously wouldn’t put it past her.

And she wasn’t alone. Most of the women here had been almost as relentless and it was getting tiring.

I spotted Colin Fitzgerald over by the bar chatting with a group of people that included one of the Du Pont heirs. He looked as thrilled to be here as I did, even though his presence here tonight was something of a surprise since I thought he was in London. But I suppose when a pre-imminent figure out our circle holds an engagement party for their only daughter, it would be poor form not to put in an appearance.

A young blond server who looked barely old enough to serve alcohol was collecting glasses from the group next to me when Shannon backed up, knocking the tray against the server sending drinks splashing across her white shirt.

“Watch where you’re going,” Shannon hissed, despite it being entirely her fault. “This dress is Eli Saab. Do you even know what it’s worth?”

The girl’s eyes were wide and she swallowed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

But Shannon already had turned her back to the girl.

I bent down and grabbed a couple of glasses that had miraculously not broken when they fell. The girl glanced up and I winked before sharing a grin to let her know that at least I didn’t blame her. She blushed furiously and thanked me before racing away.

I would have to talk to the catering service to leave her a generous tip and counter any complaints that Shannon might make against her. Putting up with overly entitled people couldn’t be easy.

I scanned the room and saw more of the same people that were usually at these kinds of events, people who knew who I was and who my family was and who would, at least to my face, suck up to me and play nice.

I needed some air.

Excusing myself, I made my way through the crowd, smiling and nodding at people when they said hello, all the time wishing that I was at my lodge in Montana where the only crowds of this size were the cattle being herded from one pasture to another.

I was standing out on the balcony welcoming the cool night air for only a minute when the door opened behind me.

Great. One guess as to who that might be.

“Hiding out?” Except it wasn’t Shannon’s silky smooth feminine voice that greeted me.

I nodded to Colin who joined me and looked out at the Manhattan skyline. “It was getting suffocating.”

I had known Colin since we were both thirteen and attending prep school in New Hampshire. With a long history of rivalry, we were reluctant allies at things like this.

“I heard that Shannon has decided you’re going to be her second husband.”

I snorted. “Overnight I seem to have become the prime target in every gold-digger’s playbook. I guess the fact that I’d almost made it down the aisle once has convinced them I’m ready to try again soon. My family too.”

“I understand the familial pressures to marry. But unlike you, I won’t ever make the mistake of getting engaged let alone making it down any wedding aisle. Ever.”

“And does the lovely Pamela know this?” I asked.

“Oh, we ended that last week. Should I let her know you’re available? Maybe she’ll consider taking you back.”

I smiled, not feeling the least bit annoyed by his teasing. I had gone out with Pamela just after I ended the engagement. It had been a mistake since I knew I was just using her company in an effort to get things back to normal—and convince my ex-fiancé things were definitely over.

Despite having a degree from Vassar, the woman couldn’t hold a discussion on anything that didn’t revolve around spring fashion, the guest list for the latest Kennedy wedding, or who was seen vacationing in Venice with someone other than their new wife.

I’d been about to break up with her when Colin had appeared on the scene with his crisp British accent and easy smile and charmed the panties off of her.

So I’d let the man think he’d taken Pamela from me, but in truth, he’d saved me another nasty breakup.

“Do you ever think that things have gotten almost…incestuous? It’s like everyone knows everyone and you’re all just recycling through each other’s old laundry,” I said as I looked into the room filled with people it felt like I’d known forever.

Colin grunted his agreement.

Over in the corner, the bartender was serving a couple of younger women who were barely paying him any attention, even though the guy could have been straight out of GQ. They had their sights on partners with more than just good looks in their portfolio evidently.

“Sometimes I think I would have been better off growing up without the Holloway name or money to open doors for me. Look at that guy,” I said and nodded over to the bartender.

I’d chatted with the guy when he poured me a scotch earlier. “He’s twenty-two, finishing his final year of undergrad at NYU and studying architecture before going to graduate school. His parents live in a split level in Long Island and he’s working events like tonight as well as a two-month gig that he leaves for tomorrow to help pay his way through school. Aaron has his whole life ahead of him, opportunities, wins and losses that will be his to have because he earned them—not because they were given to him. What I wouldn’t give to have that.”

He looked at me curiously. “You mean to be penniless? To be starting out with nothing?”

“I don’t see it like that. It would be more like a chance to make whatever I wanted to make of myself without the pressure of going into the family business. Maybe I would have gotten a degree in something other than chemical engineering. Maybe I would have found some nice girl who had no ulterior motive for loving me other than who I am, and married her. Raised a family with her. Found myself happy as a loon as I sat back every night and listened to the kids fight and laugh as they told us about their day before my wife and I escaped to the bedroom for some mad lovemaking. Without my name and money, I might have been anything, and I’d have known at the end of the day that whatever I had, it was because of my own hard work.”

Colin didn’t even blink. “You would never have hacked it.”

We were still watching Aaron the bartender who slid three pink cocktails to the younger women who took them with barely a second look at him before leaving with their drinks.

A moment later, Tamara Lancaster, wife to the mega-billionaire publishing giant Herb Lancaster, approached Aaron. In her early-forties, Tamara was still as beautiful and poised now as she was at twenty-seven when she’d married Herb. However, her tastes in entertainment had certainly changed over the years. Gone was the need to secure a guy with a hefty bank balance to secure her position and place in this world, replaced with a more basic raw need—one of lust. She reached out and picked up invisible lint from Aaron’s sleeve, and leaned forward to show off some of her well paid for assets.

“Look at that. A beautiful woman who doesn’t want him for his money or what his last name could offer her in opportunities, but rather purely based on a more primitive need. No strings or expectations for anything beyond what they have tonight.”

“Sorry, my old friend. But I’m afraid your golden days are behind you. Without your name, I’d say your chances of scoring with any of the women in this room are down at least 80 percent. Sure, you have that broody appeal that some women go for, but if you were dressed in the white shirt and black vest”—he said referring to Aaron’s uniform—“I doubt you’d get much action. You’d be either too old or too poor.”

Which sounded absolutely fantastic.

I tossed the rest of my scotch back. “It sounds like freedom to me. Now I’m going to go grab one more drink and find a way to sneak out and make it home tonight to catch the end of the Knicks game.”

A couple of minutes later, I was at the bar, listening to the last part of Tamara’s invitation to catch Aaron after his shift, trying not to smile. “Good evening, Tamara.”

I had to give the woman credit, she didn’t so much as flinch when she saw me, but rather smiled even more broadly.

Colin didn’t know a thing. My twenties might be behind me, but I still had it. Something that by the way Tamara’s eyes widened as she studied me, confirmed it.

“Michael, so good to see you. You seem to be happier without that annoying Gratin simpering around at your side. I never thought she would be enough woman for you,” she said referring to my ex-fiancé.

“Thanks, Tamara. You’re probably right. Actually, I think Herb was around, looking for you.”

“Herb’s here already?” she asked, unaware that her husband had arrived ten minutes ago. She spotted him over talking to the mayor and sighed. “I should go say hi.” She paused, doing a last once-over. “If you’re ever in the need of a real woman, give me a call.”
Not even close to subtle.

“Another Macallan,” I said to Aaron, who didn’t seem to be the least fazed by Tamara’s boldness.

Aaron nodded even as his gaze followed Tamara as she greeted her husband.

“Best that you let that one go,” I said. “Her husband does not like to share.”

“Point taken.” Aaron grabbed the scotch and filled a fresh glass and slid it over to me.

“I’m curious, Aaron. Are you happy? I mean, not to go all existential on you, but your life. You work long hours, I’m guessing, and you study hard, with no guarantees that in the end, you’ll ever reap any reward.”

“I guess that’s one way of looking at it. But for me, it isn’t just the reward at the end, but the adventure that I take to get there. Am I happy?” He shrugged. “I can’t complain.”

The guy was wiser than his years. What I wouldn’t give to have the freedom that this kid had.

An idea struck me, a crazy out-of-the-ordinary speck of an idea that once it formed, wouldn’t let go.

“You mentioned you were heading out of town for a couple of months?”

“Another bartender came back from spring break with ten grand in tips from just two weeks of bartending at some hotshot resort. He’s hooking me up at the same place. I figure even if I only came away with making half that rate, over two months, I’d clear ten times more than I could make working parties here in the city. I’d pay for grad school and I’d be working on my tan.”

“Bartending, huh. Sounds like a great opportunity. Where will you be heading?”

“Hawaii. Two months of sunshine, hitting the waves on my days off, and spending the nights with beautiful Hawaiian women. Sounds like heaven.”

It sounded pretty good to me too.
​
Maybe getting away to Hawaii was just the thing I needed.
​
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