Not only that, but the grandfather’s mother came from a family who could trace their roots back to some of the country’s founding fathers. There was a great deal of history and prestige in Miles’ family.
Now I understood what he meant when he said that I could benefit from his name after this marriage of convenience ended. His name would definitely open a lot of doors for a nobody like me.
How was it I had never heard of him before?
I continued to click through the articles and links that had come up in the Google search. There was a lot that showcased his parents, his sister, Lila, and his brother, Robert. His sister was beautiful, the kind of woman who had the right amount of curves and the right balance of dark hair and pale skin. She was the kind of woman I’d admired and wanted to be when I was a teenager. And Robert…he and Miles could be twins. The only difference I could see was that Robert was slightly shorter than Miles and there was something different, darker, in his eyes.
I found myself wondering if Miles was close to his siblings. One of the articles said that both Lila and Robert had recently married, and both still lived in Massachusetts near their parents’ home. It made me wonder why Miles had chosen to move thousands of miles across the country to begin his new business—in a state that was as different from his home as the desert is from the Bahamas.
As I made my way through the links, I found many, many pictures of Miles with a variety of women. He seemed to have a type—tall, rail thin, blond women. Like Lisa. As opposite from me as possible. And each one seemed to have a name that meant something, if the way they were written in each article meant something. A few of them I recognized. There were a couple of actresses and the daughter of a well-known business man. And then I stumbled across an engagement announcement:
Miles Thorn, son of Jackson and Elena Thorn, has just announced his engagement to Claire Watson, daughter of Stanley and Amelia Watson.
I knew who Claire Watson was. She was a supermodel who’d appeared in everything from Vogue to Sports Illustrated to a multitude of album covers and internet ads. Lisa always pointed out her pictures, claiming that Claire was the perfect woman and we should aspire to be like her. I never really saw it, personally, but I always agreed with Lisa to appease her quiet obsession. If she knew that Claire Watson’s fiancé had just asked me to marry him…
But why would he want to marry me when he had someone like Claire?
None of it made sense to me. He was a man who could have anyone he wanted. Why would he need to get himself trapped in a marriage of convenience? What could be happening in his life that would require a wife of a certain type? He’d said that I was perfect for his needs—I was intelligent, quiet, unassuming. Essentially, I was boring. And he thought that was something he needed right now? It just didn’t make sense.
But who was I to argue when a man wanted to hand me a million dollars and the right to use his influential name for the rest of my life? I mean, hell, it was a win-win situation for me. I marry a hot man for six months and I’m set for life. Well, at least for a few years.
I couldn’t see a good reason not to do this. If he could save my aunts’ house and give me the money I would need to make sure they were never alone, that was worth six months of my time. But there was this side of me that still felt the sting of the realization that he hadn’t asked me out on a date and that he wasn’t really interested in me as a romantic partner. He wanted me to play a role, and then he was going to toss me aside like it didn’t matter. Even though I didn’t know him, even though I knew he was out of my league, that idea still hurt.
Could I do this and remain emotionally whole? Could I spend six months pretending to be something I wasn’t and not lose who I am?
I wasn’t confident I could. Yet, I kept coming back to the idea that this would fix everything for my aunts and I couldn’t walk away from it. I couldn’t turn my back on the one solution to all my problems.
I set the computer aside and curled up against my pillows. It was insane. But how could I make my aunts go to an assisted living facility when I had the opportunity to keep them in their own home for the rest of their lives? After everything they’d done for me—giving up so much to care for a child—the least I could do was give up six months of my life for them.
I would do it. But he had to live up to his end of the bargain first.
Chapter 4
“What does this mean?”
Miles leaned close to me to look at the documents I had spread out in front of me on the conference table. He smelled like wood and spice, his expensive cologne washing over me every time he moved. And he was so close to me that I could feel his breath against the back of my neck when he spoke.
“It just means that you agree to live in my house during the course of the marriage.”
“Then why doesn’t it just say that?”
“Lawyers can’t just say things out straight. They have to wrap it up in complicated language so that we have to go to them to explain it to us.”
“Then how do you know what it means?”
“I went to law school.”
I looked up at him as he moved away, crossing the room to his desk. It was late. Most of his office staff were gone before I arrived, which is why I suspect he asked me to come after my shift at Starbuck’s. He was dressed, as always, in jeans and an old t-shirt, mud splattered on his pant legs despite the fact it hadn’t rained in weeks. He picked up a bottle of soda off his desk and took a long drink, sighing when he set it down again.
“You’re a lawyer?”
“No. I went to law school. There’s a difference.”
“Why didn’t you finish?”
He glanced at me, his expression tightened. “I never said I didn’t finish.”
“But if you’d finished—”
“I just didn’t take the bar exam.”
“Why not?”
He shrugged. “Because it was what my father wanted. And I try very hard not to do what my father wants me to do.”
I turned back to the legal papers laid out in front of me, trying not to ask why that might be. It was obvious he didn’t like talking about it, but it seemed to answer a few questions, like why he’d moved so far from home.
I ran my finger over the words on the page, searching for the section I had been reading. He came back over—I could smell him again—and settled in a chair beside me.
“It’s all very straightforward,” he said, a touch of boredom to his voice. “It basically just says that you agree to marry me and act as my legal wife for as long as I need you to. Then, I agree to pay you a million dollars, as long as you don’t contest the divorce or the prenup.”
“I have the option of fighting the divorce?”
He shrugged. “Everyone has options. But I wouldn’t recommend fighting it. My father’s lawyers would keep you in court for so long that you wouldn’t get anything.”
I brushed a piece of hair from my face and turned back to the contract. To be honest, none of it really made much sense to me. Yet, I felt compelled to read it from beginning to end, just to be sure I knew what I was getting myself into.
After a few minutes of silence, Miles sighed quite heavily.
“Look,” he said, gathering the papers and shuffling them together, “there’s no reason to read the whole thing. If you agree to be my wife, I’ll pay you. That’s all there is to it.”
“Why?”
His hands paused for a minute. “Why is that so important to you?”
“Because I want to know what I’m getting myself in the middle of. Clearly you have a reason for doing this. If I know what the reason is, maybe I can avoid making a mistake that will make everything worse.”
“Don’t worry about that. Nothing can make this any worse.”
He stood up again, crossing the room in two, quick strides. He grabbed a pen from his desk and came back, setting a single piece of paper in front of me.
“Sign this.”
I took the pen he held out t
o me, but I didn’t open it. I just stared at the paper for a long minute, then sat back.
“What?”
“I need to know more about you.”
He practically growled, clearly annoyed with me. He practically threw himself into a chair and stared at me with what I’m sure he thought was an intimidating looked. However, I didn’t turn away; I didn’t even drop my gaze for an instant. My aunts always said I was the most stubborn person they knew. When I wanted something, there was nothing in the world that could drag the thought from my mind. That was something Miles was going to have to learn about me.
“Why do you need to know about me?” he asked.
“Because people are going to ask about us. How we met. What our first date was like. How you proposed. And they’re going to expect me to know about you.”
“So lie. Women are supposed to be really good liars. At least, they always have been in my experience.”
There was a bitterness to his words that made me wonder what the women in his life had done to him. Was this about Claire Watson? Had she broken his heart?
That was something I should know if I was going to be able to convince people our marriage was real.
“I’m not a great liar. And if someone asks me what your favorite color is, I’d really like to be able to answer honestly.”
He stared at me for a long minute, a war going on behind his eyes. Slowly, a little resignation came into them, and he sat up. “Fine. What do you want to know?”
“Why did you come to Texas?”
He groaned. “You have to go for the jugular, first question out?” He dragged his fingers through his hair, as he leaned back, his eyes shifting to the ceiling for a long second. “If you must know,” he said very slowly in a tone that suggested he really didn’t want to tell me, “my brother had just married my fiancée. So, I felt like it was a good time to get out of Dodge. And Joan was here, so this is where I decided to come.”
“You and Joan are close?”
“I told you, Joan used to work for my father. I’ve known her since I was quite young.”
“Why did your brother marry your fiancée?”
His eyes narrowed as he regarded me. “When you get the answer to that question, feel free to fill me in.”
I looked away, feeling a little guilty for pushing that issue, but at least I knew now why he didn’t just ask Claire to go through with her promise to marry him and why he would run away from home. I might have done the same thing in his position.
“Your turn,” he said. “If you have to know about me, then I should know about you, too.”
“Okay,” I said, dragging out the syllables as I wondered what it was he might ask.
“Why don’t you have a boyfriend?”
I blushed. “What do you mean?”
“Why isn’t there some big, dumb guy knocking me out for asking you to do this?”
I caught the edge of my bottom lip between my teeth as I focused on the pen in my hands, twirling it between my fingers. That was actually a pretty good question. I just wished I knew how to answer it.
“Surely you’ve had men in your life. Are you between lovers right now, or what?”
“You make me sound like a promiscuous woman.”
“No. Just a typical, modern woman.”
I chuckled softly. I’d never been accused of being typical before. And he couldn’t have been further from the truth. My first kiss was from Lisa’s brother because we happened to both step under a piece of mistletoe at the same time and their mother goaded him into it. My second kiss didn’t happen until the night of my high school graduation and that was my high school crush saying goodbye. I was too tall in high school to get much action. Most of the boys were intimidated by me. And college was a whirlwind of all-nighters that were more about studying than sex.
But I wasn’t about to tell him that.
“I’m picky about who I go out with.”
“Yeah? What’s your type?”
I looked at him. “Why? Does it matter now? Are you going to set me up with someone when you toss me aside at the end of this deal?”
“Maybe.” He grinned, but there wasn’t much humor in it.
“What kind of music do you listen to?”
I figured a change in subject was warranted. I didn’t expect to see a light come into his eyes. He sat up again, that twisted grin turning into a pleased smile.
“Would it surprise you if I said I was into an eclectic combination of music? Jazz, pop, rap, big band, classical…I really like a lot of things.”
I couldn’t help but be lured in by the enthusiasm in his voice.
“Do you listen to Sinatra?”
“Old Blue Eyes? Who doesn’t?”
“I grew up listening to him. My aunts—they have this thing for him. Every Sunday they would play his records, one after the other, while we cleaned the house. I grew up knowing the words to all his greats.”
“Don’t tell Joan that. She’d be your best friend for life. She thinks no one appreciates the greats anymore. But she’s the one who introduced me to Sinatra and Duke Ellington and Ella Fitzgerald.”
“She had a lot of influence on you.”
“I spent more time with her as a kid than I did my parents. She was my father’s assistant, so she was always at the house, working in his home office while he was off playing golf. If not for her, my father’s company wouldn’t be what it is today. And she’d let me hang out in the office with her, sit and watch her negotiate over the phone and do all the things she did so well. She always had music playing, always had some bit of knowledge to bestow on me. I was like a lost puppy dog, following her around. I thought she was the most amazing woman in the world.”
“You had a crush on her.”
“It was more than a crush. She was the love of my life until I was fourteen and discovered she was already taken.”
“That must have been tough.”
He nodded—even as a wry smile twisted his lips. “But she let me down easy.”
I remembered my first crush and couldn’t help but sympathize. Mine was my fifth grade teacher. He was young, single, and the most handsome man I’d ever known until that moment. All the girls in my class had a crush on him, even Lisa, but I thought that the special attention he showed me meant that I was at the top of his list. It never occurred to me that it had more to do with the fact that I was struggling in my work because that was the year my aunts discovered I needed glasses. He didn’t let me down easy. I just happened to be hanging around the classroom after school one day and saw his girlfriend arrive to pick him up. I cried for a week.
“Can I ask you something?”
He shrugged. “I thought that was the purpose of this.”
“My aunts…they would never accept the money if they knew why we were doing this. If they found out—”
“No one needs to know the truth.”
“But they would expect there to be a proper wedding. They’d want to help plan it.”
“I thought we’d just go to the justice of the peace.”
I half nodded. “But my aunts and my friend Lisa, they won’t believe this is real if we don’t at least have a party, or something. They know me. They know I’ve dreamed of a big wedding since I was a little girl. To run off and elope…they know that’s not me.”
“Then what do you propose?”
“A small wedding in my aunts’ backyard?”
“It would take time to pull together a wedding. I need this to happen in the next two weeks.”
“Why the rush?”
That tightness came to his face again. I knew he wouldn’t answer, so I wasn’t surprised when he leaned forward and groaned. “If you can pull it together by the end of next week…”
“I can.”
“And we have to have a priest. My mother will not accept this whole sham if we don’t have a priest officiate.”
There was resignation to his voice that was beginning to sound a little familiar.
&
nbsp; “No problem. My aunts attend St. Michael’s over on Third Street. I’m sure Father Brian would be more than happy to do it.”
Miles waved his hand at the paper still sitting in front of me. “So, sign the contract and we’ll get this thing going. Just tell me what I have to do.”
I signed with a flourish, growing excited despite myself.
Maybe this wouldn’t be the disaster I had feared.
Chapter 5
My hands shook as I reached up to pin the lacy veil to my hair.
“Let me do it.” Aunt Edna smiled at me in the mirror as she walked up behind me. She took the bobby pins and pressed her hand to the top of my head, positioning the veil just right.
“I’m so glad you decided to go with mother’s veil. It looks so nice with this dress.”
“Do you think so?”
She caught my eye in the mirror again. “You are a beautiful bride.”
Tears filled my eyes, but not for the reason Aunt Edna obviously assumed. She patted my shoulder softly as Aunt Colleen walked up beside her and grabbed a box of tissues from the top of my dressing table.
“Don’t ruin your face, my dear,” Aunt Colleen said, as she handed me a tissue.
I pressed it to my eye, catching a tear as it spilled.
This should have been the best day of my life. This was supposed to be the day I pledged to love, honor, and obey my soulmate. Instead, I was making a mockery of the whole thing by marrying a man I barely knew for money.
LUCIEN: A Standalone Romance Page 63
