Whoa. He could do the remote, autocratic thing really well.
“You think he’s going to buy this sham marriage you’re proposing?”
“Sham? Oh no. If you agree to this proposal, know that you’ll be participating in a real marriage—in every sense of the word.”
Michael’s words hung in the air. Sierra’s pulse quickened.
“So let me be clear about this. For a very large sum of money, you expect to hire a woman to become engaged to, marry, and have sex with for a year?” Sierra inquired, trying to sound matter of fact. “That’s a pretty tall order.”
They’d never taught these particular kinds of negotiations and arrangements in business school.
A glint appeared in Michael’s eye. “Who said anything about sex, Sierra?”
“But you said, ‘in every sense of the word’ so I assumed you meant…” Sierra floundered.
God, she was out of her depth.
“I meant only that a legal wedding will take place. It’s you who mentioned sex, not I.” Something shimmered in his gaze. “Somehow I find that very intriguing.”
“You know what? I’m done with this conversation.” She stood and slung her handbag over her shoulder. “Please convey my thanks to Mr. Murdoch for arranging this meeting today, and of course, I thank you as well for the opportunity to discuss this…idea…with you, but I’m afraid I’m not the right person for the position you have in mind.”
Too late she realized, in Michael Donovan’s company, every remark she made took on a sexual innuendo she swore she hadn’t intended.
He rose from his seat behind the desk. “Oh, I disagree with you. Strange as it may seem, I think you may be exactly the right person for what I have in mind.”
Her heartbeat rocketed as he approached her. He removed her purse and set it on the desk. “I’m sorry, but I’m not interested. And please give me back my handbag.”
“In a moment,” Michael said. “First there’s something I’d like to find out.”
Then his arms went around her, pulling her to him in a close embrace, his lips were on hers, and all coherent thought fled Sierra’s mind.
In the first few seconds, Sierra gasped and Michael took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, sipping at her lips with a gentleness she found somehow beguiling. He touched his tongue to hers in a more intimate mating. Half of her was overwhelmed by the passion he evoked, and half stood back and watched as Michael moved his hands from her waist to grip her hips and bring them more fully to him. Then, with the part of her brain that was still rational, she realized where she was and what she was doing. Mortified, she jerked away and stepped back.
How could he look so calm? She was anything but.
“So this is how you intend to reform your image? Somehow I don’t see that plan working!”
“On the contrary, I’m becoming more convinced it will work quite well.” He smiled. “There’s heat between us, Sierra. We’ll make a convincing couple. My father will be happy to think I’m directing my attentions to marriage. He wants his sons to settle down and continue the family line.”
“In that case, how will he feel when a brief marriage ends?”
“What matters most to me right now is my father’s immediate happiness and quick recovery. Once he’s stronger and recovered from his stroke, he’ll be able to take any eventuality in stride, I assure you. He always has.” Sierra shook her head but Michael continued. “Rather than worry about my family matters, think about yours. Murdoch’s report indicates you and your mother are in imminent danger of losing both your house and the family business. My proposal would relieve you of that worry immediately. Within mere days, in fact.”
There was that.
It was, after all, the whole reason she’d been willing to come to this interview today. After the past year of negotiations with the bank and endless worrying, she and her mother were still no closer to a solution. With no cash to offer the bank and a house her father had mortgaged twice over, they now faced the loss of their home and Claddagh at month’s end.
“Five hundred thousand dollars now and a million more at the end of our year-long contract.” Michael repeated the terms. “You could save your business, pay off other debts, and still walk away with a sizable sum of money for the future.”
“It’s a huge amount.”
Without arrogance, Michael replied, “I can afford it, and I’ll expect you to abide by the letter and spirit of our bargain. The money is the means to an end that’s very important to me. And to my brothers.”
As bizarre as his plan was, Sierra had to admit it made a certain amount of sense. On one level it was insane and straight out of the romance novels she’d stopped reading years ago. However, now that she was presented with it, she was forced to admit Michael’s arguments had merit.
It would be only a year out of her life. How hard could it be in the greater scheme of things? It would provide enough money to pay off the business equity loan and ensure the safety of Claddagh, which was bread and butter for her mother, and as importantly, a neighborhood fixture to which they were both committed. It would also save their home.
Michael would be a formidable opponent in the boardroom, fair but determined to get what he wanted. She bit her lip. “I’d have to discuss the terms with my mother first.”
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
“For this to work, people in your life, and mine, will have to believe we’re marrying for love, not convenience.” Michael was inflexible. “My father was married twice, once to a wonderful woman. For him to think I’m marrying for any other reason than love would defeat the purpose, and I don’t want to give anyone around us, or him, to speculate otherwise.” He spoke with utter assurance. “The fewer people who know of the terms of our arrangement, the better.”
“But Grace is my mother, and the financial issues are hers as well! She’s entitled to the truth. How on earth am I going to convince her I’m swept off my feet in a nanosecond by a man I’ve never mentioned?”
“Easily. We met through your work today, and that will be something to which your boss will attest. We’ll have a brief period for courtship, but basically it’s love at first sight for both of us.”
She didn’t believe in love at first sight, but he cut off her thought.
“Somehow, Sierra, looking at you, I don’t think many people will find that difficult to believe. At least, not at my end of things.” He smiled, not the urbane, suave smile of a negotiator but a boyish one. “I’ll just have to hope your own acting abilities are up to the challenge.”
How she would play the role of a girlfriend in love she had no idea. It had been years since William, and even then, she had probably only imagined herself to be in love with him. Her life worked better without a man in it. That much she knew. This scheme, business deal though it might be, was out of the question.
Wasn’t it?
She flashed on the kiss that she and Michael had just shared and shivered. No doubt most women were thrilled to be noticed by him. As eligible men went, he was straight out of central casting.
But she wasn’t most women.
Maybe she could do it, though. For her mother. For herself. In the absence of an immediate payment toward their house and the business in the near term, Sierra’s dreams of the future for Claddagh would have to be put on hold. If they lost Claddagh, those dreams would vanish anyway.
The choice was stark. In fact, there was no choice at all.
Steeling herself, she took a deep breath and let it out. “Very well, Mr. Donov—Michael. Assuming I accept your offer, when would we get started?”
He looked at her a long moment and then replied, “How about Friday night?”
She gave him an appalled expression and he chuckled. “There’s no time like the present, after all, to set tongues wagging about my new girlfriend.” Not giving her a chance to back out, he continued, “Dress in something appropriate for dinner and a night out on the town. I’ll pick you up at eight
o’clock.”
That had to be the most unconventional end to a business meeting she’d ever had.
Chapter Three
“You look fabulous.” Jen stepped back from her handiwork and turned Sierra to face the full-length mirror in her bedroom. “This retro dress we found in the Haight is perfect on you, and the shoes and handbag go great with it. You’ll knock Michael Donovan’s socks off.”
Tall, curvaceous, with gray eyes and straight blonde hair that fell to her shoulders, Jen had a great sense for what suited others. Not into clothes herself, Sierra always depended on her best friend for advice anytime she needed an outfit for a special occasion.
Jen’s artistic eye made her tiny boutique, Threads, an up-and-coming success in the competitive world of San Francisco fashion. Panicked at the thought of the meager contents of her wardrobe measuring up to a night out with Michael Donovan, Sierra had called Jen with an S.O.S.
Jen came through for her as she always did, no matter what the problem. She took her shopping to the upscale consignment stores Sierra could afford and lent her a pair of couturier heels and an evening bag from her own shop. Sierra found the whole process stressful but Jen was in her element.
“Socks and all other clothing are destined to stay on tonight, I promise you.” Sierra caught Jen’s eye in the mirror. “I mean it, Jen. This is dinner, nothing more.”
Jen raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Right. And that’s why you called me in such a state earlier this week. This is the first time I’ve seen you melt down about what to wear because you were going out with a man.” She brushed a piece of lint from Sierra’s shoulder. “In fact, it’s the time I’ve seen you go on a date in a gazillion years. So no matter what you say, I think tonight is about more than dining.” She smiled at her friend in the mirror. “Imagine. You’re going out with a Donovan. One of the Donovans. Who would have thought your boss’s tip would have ever led to this?”
Sierra groaned. “To what? You’d think this was breaking news on CNN or something!”
“If it’s not, it ought to be. I’ve seen photos of Michael Donovan in the society pages and online. He’s hot.”
Sierra remembered how she had responded to Michael’s kiss.
“See?” Jen crowed. “You’re blushing. You are so into this guy. It’s about time.”
Jen and her mother were always urging her to give men another chance. Sierra had been immune to their arguments. In fact, earlier in the week she’d feared her previous lack of interest in men would make it difficult to convince either woman she was bowled over by one man in particular now.
But Jen seemed be jumping to conclusions with alacrity.
“For someone who’s a confirmed cynic herself when it comes to men, you’re getting awfully dewy-eyed and romantic on me.” Sierra tossed the remark over her shoulder as she put on her shoes.
“Oh, I’m cynical about men when it comes to myself, not others,” said Jen. “You know me. I’m counting on you to do the love-and-romance thing for both of us, no matter how much you say you’re not into it. You’re the one who read all those romance novels when we were younger.”
“That was before I knew better. It’s not as if I believe in happily-ever-afters. Given my parents’ relationship and my own history, how could I?” She caught herself. Too many remarks like that would work against the impression she and Michael wanted to create. “Uh, but I guess there’s always hope.”
Jen didn’t seem to notice her lame response. Sierra turned her attention once again to her appearance. The classic little black dress they had stumbled upon that morning had been a real find. It was a vintage designer knock-off, a tailored black sleeveless shift with clean, elegant lines.
Jen clapped her hands. “Very sexy!”
“What is sexy about this dress? It’s something I could wear to the office!”
“Not with that hair and makeup and those shoes, you couldn’t,” said Jen. She had styled Sierra’s hair in a carefully tousled up-do with tendrils escaping here and there. She’d also applied Sierra’s makeup.
Very artfully, Sierra had to admit. Her hazel eyes looked huge, her pale cheeks bright, and her lips were touched with color. She didn’t look like her day-to-day work self at all.
“That’s just great,” Sierra muttered under her breath, fastening a single strand of pearls around her neck that had belonged to her grandmother. “Just ducky.”
“Come on, it’s almost eight o’clock.” Michael was due to pick up Sierra on the hour. “I want to show you off to your mother.” Jen was like a second daughter and had run in and out of the Callahan’s house throughout the years that they had grown up together.
They found Grace sitting in front of a fire in the small living room, relaxing after a long day at Claddagh. A large marmalade cat napped on her lap.
“How do I look, Mom?” Sierra turned for inspection and Grace beamed.
“What a transformation! Jen, she looks wonderful. I’m always encouraging Sierra to make up a little more, enjoy clothes, like you, but she rarely does. You look wonderful, sweetie!”
“Which means, of course, that I look like scrap junk most other times, I suppose,” Sierra teased.
“Nonsense,” Grace replied, her tired face happy at the sight of her daughter. “You’re beautiful. You just don’t play it up very often.”
The mantel clock chimed eight and, as if on cue, there was a strong knock at the door. Sierra felt a clutch of anxiety as she contemplated the evening ahead. “That’s Michael,” she said.
“It’s showtime!” Jen exclaimed, bouncing with enthusiasm.
That was pretty much the size of it. If Jen only knew.
****
The private limo again.
Sierra knew such wealth existed, of course, but affluence of this extent was beyond her experience. She pretended nonchalance when the chauffeur stepped out to hold the door as they came down the front steps of the modest Callahan house. The luxury auto of German engineering had enough leg room in the back seat to allow for easy entry, but in her heels she was grateful for Michael’s support and steadying palm at the base of her spine as he handed her inside.
He settled next to her, dominating the enclosed space, and she couldn’t help but be aware of his dark appeal once more. Evidently when she had agreed to this deal, her immunity to men flew out the window, along with her good sense.
Michael leaned forward to give the driver the address of their destination through the retractable screen between the front and back seats, and Sierra took a moment to catch her breath. It did nothing to steady her, however. Instead she became more aware of the scent of clean male mixed with the merest trace of a very subtle cologne. Maybe she’d have to change her mind about disliking cologne on men. It had always seemed cloying before.
Once they were under way, Michael closed the dividing window. She was unprepared for the frank appreciation in his eyes. “You look spectacular tonight, Sierra. Such a difference from wet young woman I first saw on a sidewalk.”
“I could say something similar,” she replied, not acknowledging an intimate undercurrent to his words.
It was true. He looked mouth-wateringly handsome. His dark navy suit was impeccably tailored, handmade, as were his shoes, and made him seem even more masculine. The white shirt, with French cuffs and monogrammed cufflinks beneath, contrasted with his dark good looks, and the coordinating tie once again brought out the blue of his eyes.
He smiled. “I’m glad I meet with your approval.”
Oh, yes. Did he ever. Not simply in the way he looked, either.
Michael had treated both Grace and Jen not only with courtesy, but with genuine interest during the ten minutes the four of them had chatted. It turned out he’d been to Claddagh a few times, though never when Grace or Sierra was there. That surprised Sierra. Somehow she couldn’t picture him drinking a pint in a neighborhood pub.
On the other hand, it would be a mistake to pigeonhole him or reduce him to a smooth, urbane player. He was m
ore complex than that.
Help.
“Where are we going tonight?” Sierra asked, striving for a casual note.
“I thought Bijou.” He gave the name of one of the finest restaurants in the city, located in one of its oldest and most elegant hotels.
Sierra was surprised. “I was expecting you to pick a chic and trendy eatery.”
“Do you object?”
“Heavens, no. I’ve always wanted to eat at Bijou but I’ve never been able to afford it.” She laughed. “I figured tonight you’d want us to be spotted by others who’d spread the word that you’re seeing someone. Bijou doesn’t strike me as the kind of place where paparazzi hang out.”
Michael wore an expression of distaste. “They don’t, I assure you. For the record, I don’t go to places with paparazzi. An occasional photo in the social pages of the city paper is inevitable now and then, but that’s about it.”
Sierra raised a skeptical brow. “That’s not what Jen says.”
Oops.
“No?” He smiled with interest. “So you’ve been conducting your own investigation, have you?”
Sierra smoothed the short hem of her dress without looking up. “You may have your methods of background reportage, but I have mine. I’ll put Jen up against any of your resources any day.”
Michael chuckled. “I knew I liked her. Anyway, we’ll still be noticed at Bijou, and that will help get the word out that we’re seeing each other.”
Somehow in the twenty minutes that elapsed as the elegant town car crossed the city to the restaurant, Sierra was able to relax a little. Aside from the appreciative look in his eyes when he first complimented her, Michael treated her as he would any business associate.
She’d probably imagined the look in his eyes anyway. She hoped so.
Didn’t she?
“I didn’t hear from you this week, so I’m assuming you got the contract from Murdoch and the terms met with your satisfaction,” he said. “Has your lawyer had a chance to look it over?”
Sierra laughed a little cynically. As if she had a lawyer! The only attorney she knew was the one representing the bank that sought to take the business from her and her mother. She said as much to Michael, and he frowned. “Of course. I should have thought of that.” He was silent for a moment. “I could refer you to someone, or you could find your own and send the bill to me. It only makes sense that you’d want someone impartial to check the contract.”
Buying His Bride (The Donovan Brothers Trilogy Book 1) Page 3
