“I’m implying that I agreed to this evening to spend time with your father. You’re here in his place without my knowledge, so excuse me if I’m not going to let myself get bullied for being polite to the people around me.”
Silence descended over them as they ate, giving Marissa time to catch her breath. This was a far more intense meeting than she’d anticipated. She’d wrongly assumed that the persona Vince wore on the show was fake, that he would be charming in person.
Maybe that was a thing about him that the tabloids and celebrity gossip shows wouldn’t know. Perhaps millionaire business man Vince Taylor was a horrible conversationalist. She stopped eating to watch him. At first glance he appeared relaxed, a man enjoying a good cut of meat. But the closer she looked, there was something else simmering just below the surface. She didn’t have a clue what it might be and there was only one way to find out.
“Tell me something about yourself.” The question came from her almost as quickly as it passed through her head. He froze, looking up at her. She set her knife and fork down and rested her hands in her lap. “Something that I wouldn’t know from reading about you or seeing you on TV.”
He resumed chewing. “I’m an asshole.”
She snorted. “No, they have that down. In great detail. Something else. What’s your favorite color?”
“Don’t have one.”
“Liar. Everyone has a favorite. Blue? Black?” She smiled at him when he set down his utensils. “Grey?”
“Green.”
“Nice. I’m a blue person myself. I find it calming.” She looked directly into his eyes, trying to find a semblance of peace in his stormy blue irises. The wine must be going straight to her head, because what she saw in him was anything but peaceful.
He crossed his arms. “If we’re going to play twenty questions, then it’s my turn.”
You poked the bear, idiot. “That’s fair.”
“How many men have you had sex with?”
It was strange how a simple question ignited a fire inside her. Annoyance and arousal fought for prominence. “That’s a very personal question.”
“You’re here because you want me to be your sugar daddy. It’s reasonable.”
If she thought she was blushing earlier, she had no doubt her face was currently beet red. “I’m here because I wanted your father to be my sugar daddy.” And didn’t that sound horrific to her own ears. “I’m here with you because you wanted to protect me.” She made sure to infuse plenty of sarcasm in her air quotes.
He snorted. “My father reached out to you because he needed to come across as respectable for a business deal. He’s not exactly known for being able to keep a woman on his arm for long.”
“Neither are you.” Shut up, idiot.
“I’ve taken over the deal and likewise, the need to appear respectable in the eyes of a man who holds no fondness for my family. While I have women I could reach out to, it strikes me that perhaps my father had the right idea. For once.”
Shifting in her seat, she tried to force her brain to catch up to what was unfolding. “I’m sorry, you want to be my sugar daddy? And you want to know how many men I’ve slept with?”
“Possibly. And yes.”
There were two ways she could play this; answer his question and see how things played out, or shut him down and walk away from one of the hottest men she’d ever laid eyes on. Considering she was on a boat in the middle of the lake, with a man she didn’t know, it was probably best to play things safe. “One. I did some…things with a few other guys. But actual intercourse? Just one.”
“Thank you.” Vince smiled, and this time it reached his eyes. “Your ex?”
“Yes.”
He nodded slowly, his gaze locked on hers. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”
“A little. This whole night wasn’t exactly what I was anticipating.”
“You’re not what I was expecting either.” He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near purr. “Did you enjoy it? Fucking him?”
Rage or at least annoyance should be racing through her, not this unnatural desire to hear him say fuck again. “Not that it’s any of your damn business, but yes, we were good together.”
“What did he do that you liked? What did he like? Tell me.”
“You want to know about—” She shook her head and looked down at her hands. “I don’t talk about my sex life. Not even to celebrities.”
“Not even with someone willing to pay you?” Vince reached into his jacket and pulled out a stack of bills. “That’s a thousand dollars.”
Shit. That was a lot of money. Sure, it might have been a drop in the bucket for him, but to her that was a good chunk of one of her debts, or rent, or hell, the books she really needed for this semester’s business ethics class. Oh the irony.
He slid it toward the center of the table. “Don’t you want it?”
“I do.” And she did, desperately. Yet, there was that part of her, the same part that hadn’t wanted her to sign up for the website in the first place, screaming that this was a line in the sand. Selling her time—or even her body—was one thing. Selling her confidences, even from a man who’d tried to destroy her life, well, that was apparently her breaking point. “But I can’t.”
Vince crossed his arms again. “Why? You said yourself your ex was an asshole who wronged you. Why the loyalty?”
Good question. “Surprisingly, it’s not about him. I have to live with myself and my actions. Despite how badly he screwed me over, how much I would love to get even with him, I’m not about to go into the details of my past relationship with a stranger. I don’t kiss and tell. As I said, it’s none of your business.”
He didn’t look away, didn’t relax. Silence stretched on from seconds to minutes. An unspoken war raging between wants and ideals battled inside her. Even when Ryan came back and removed their plates, replacing it with a delectable chocolate lava cake, Vince remained stony. Apparently, he wasn’t the sort of man you could say no to. Well, better to know that now before things got too far. Best enjoy things while I can. Picking up her spoon, she broke into the lava cake and watched the rivers of chocolate spill across the cake. Wanting to giggle at the sight, she finished her wine with a single swallow.
Yep, definitely getting drunk.
Vince cleared his throat, wrenching her attention away from dessert. “As I said, for once I believe my father had the right idea. Dinners, social functions, maybe one weekend away. I will pay for your time, will provide an allowance for clothing and any accessories you might require. When my deal is done, then we can part company.”
The sound of his voice made her jump, sending a spoonful of chocolate to the napkin on her lap. Thank you, Ryan. “What?”
The tension that had enveloped him lessened. “I needed to be certain you weren’t going to sell me out. Tabloids pay well for even a little information. A photograph of us in bed? You wouldn’t need to worry about any debts you might have.”
“You were testing me?” Okay, that pissed her off. Who did he think he was?
Apparently, a jaded rich guy.
“Don’t sound surprised. You’re the one who just told me you like to put yourself in other’s shoes. My reputation is my brand. The last thing I need is it getting out to my investors that I’m paying a woman for her time and company. But having you available would make certain aspects of this easier for me.”
She was nothing more to him than a tool that needed to be acquired for a job. The right widget that would help him secure the big deal. Fine, she could at least appreciate that. It was really no different than what she was doing with him. She needed money and this was an easy way to get it. Even if that meant going against everything that she believed was important, some of her primary values.
Like the concept of not having to sell herself off to the highest bidder.
Shit, what the hell have I
gotten myself into?
He continued, apparently oblivious to her mental struggles. “Dates. Clothing. Spending money. From you I need your attendance and what you showed me here tonight. Be friendly and smile.” Vince leaned forward, his forearms bracketing his untouched dessert. “One other thing. There won’t be sex of any kind between us.”
Chapter 4
Vince wanted to laugh at the look of shock on her face. He’d been nearly as shocked himself when he’d mentally decided to make the offer. His intent tonight had been to simply treat the young woman to a nice meal, good wine, and pay her for her time. He no more wanted a sugar baby—or whatever the hell they were called—than he wanted to get back together with his ex-girlfriend Thea. But the moment he came out to see what was taking Caroline so bloody long, and laid eyes on Marissa, the very carefully constructed plan he’d worked on evaporated from his mind.
It turned his stomach to think what his father would have done with her if he’d been here in his place.
Marissa stared at him for a good long minute before she gave her head an adorable little shake, sending her blond curls dancing across her head. “I’m sorry, what?”
“No sex. It’s a relatively simple concept.”
Her awkwardness was as cute, as it was priceless. He didn’t crack a smile, nor did he give any indication that he was aware of her feelings. He had no doubt she’d be appalled at his ability to keep things compartmentalized, a necessary skill he’d learned the hard way. If people thought you had a soft underbelly, they tended to attack there first.
Not that her feelings toward him mattered. Nope, as far as she was concerned, he was the asshole mercenary business man from Bull Rush, who was only out to make a buck.
That meant no laughing at her cuteness.
It was hard admitting to himself that hiring someone to pose as his girlfriend made sense. His last two relationships both ended the same way—in the headlines, with his name dragged through the mud, so he had no desire to actually find someone to date. But his father had made it clear that Simon didn’t believe that Geoff had changed, which meant he wouldn’t trust Vince either. And seeing as Simon was the only one Geoff was willing to sell GreenPro to, thus finally getting out of Vince’s professional life for good, then Vince was willing to do whatever it took to make this deal.
Including hiring a sugar baby to play house.
This would be so much easier if she wasn’t so fucking beautiful.
The blush that had started high on her cheeks had now crept down her throat, getting dangerously close to her cleavage. She had spectacular breasts, full and round, perfect for squeezing. The black dress had been a good choice for her. It had been challenging to keep from plying her with compliments, to keep from seducing her with light caresses and whispered conversation. He’d done that before with other women; he was really fucking good at it.
Keeping Marissa at arm’s length was for her benefit as well as his. This was about business for both of them. He had no illusions that she’d walk away from their arrangement as soon as she had her debts paid off. He didn’t have time for a needlessly emotional departure, or her thinking that because they’d screwed he wanted more from her. A relationship, or even marriage.
No fucking way.
He wasn’t a monster, despite some of the claims that had been bandied about in the media. Too many wealthy assholes in the world leaving things worse than how they’d found them. Society had painted him with that brush, and despite how much he wanted to protest the label, it was pointless. So, he wore it like an expensive suit, and kept his true self to himself. That also meant keeping it from his date. She was clearly smart and he had no doubt she’d agree to his terms once they were presented to her.
Marissa shoved another piece of chocolate cake into her mouth. She’d missed a bit at the corner of her mouth, drawing his attention to her full pink lips. His cock threatened to come to life when the tip of her tongue darted out to wipe away the treat, before she cleared her throat. “Really? No sex?”
“You sound surprised.” It was something he’d assumed would be easy enough for him to abide by. All he had to do was keep it in his pants. And unless she had some hidden agenda, he couldn’t imagine that it would be difficult for her to agree as well.
Marissa cocked her head and narrowed her gaze. “I am. I’d just assumed…I mean you’re paying for…” She shook her head, sending the loose tendrils around her head bouncing. “I guess with us meeting because of a sugar daddy site, I figured sex was a given. I mean, you didn’t find me through…” She sighed. “I’d been bracing myself all week for the sex thing. I was ready for the sex thing.”
“If it’s going to be a problem for you, then we don’t have to take things any farther.”
“It’s not that. It was simply unexpected.” Finishing her meal, Marissa stood, taking her wine with her. “I’m relieved, if I’m being honest. It makes things easier. In a way.”
He couldn’t image how vulnerable she must feel being in this situation. “More professional.” Getting up, he trailed along behind her.
He’d noticed her having difficulty earlier, and had broken his self-imposed no-touching rule to help her to the table. The phantom feel of her warmth still clung to his skin where he’d connected with her back. She was full of life, still excited about the things to come for her. He might only be thirty-five, but he’d lived more than most. So had most of the women of his acquaintance.
The yacht shuddered as the engine powered down. Marissa stumbled again and grabbed the edge of the table for support.
“Why don’t you take those heels off?”
Her eyes sparkled and her body relaxed. “You don’t mind?”
He shook his head. What the hell was he supposed to say? No, keep tottering around until you face-plant. I’ll be sure to laugh. “Not at all.”
“Thanks. These shoes are new and I haven’t mastered walking on a boat yet, let alone on carpet.”
“Yacht.”
She looked up at him owl-eyed. “Pardon?”
“It’s a yacht, not a boat.”
One moment she was a timid girl, the next she was laughing at him with her eyes. An impressive feat that made him want to take a closer look at her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m even less experienced walking on a yacht. You’re the first millionaire I’ve met.” She sounded less than impressed.
“Multi-millionaire,” he corrected. “Practically a billionaire.”
She rolled her eyes.
He mentally slapped himself. Way to prove the world right, asshole.
Vince knew money was only one aspect of him that some people were attracted to. Power was the other. Being with him opened doors that otherwise would remain shut. Being in his circle of influence would provide her with opportunities that she wouldn’t otherwise have. “I’m glad you find my status non-threatening. Over the next few months you’ll be speaking with several people of means. They might not be as forgiving if you tell them you like their boat.”
She removed her second shoe and smiled up at him three inches shorter than she was a moment ago. “I’ll be sure to re-watch Pretty Woman to brush up on my rich-person speak.”
Marissa was no Julia Roberts. Her hair was long, blond, and pulled into one of those messy bun things women her age seemed to favor. Her hazel eyes suited her complexion, as though someone had manufactured her to be a natural beauty, rather than her being blessed by winning the genetic lottery. Her pale skin was flawless except for the light dusting of freckles across her nose. He could imagine connecting the dots to see if they held a hidden picture that reflected her inner spirit.
Shit, he couldn’t see her that way. He needed to treat Marissa the same way he did Caroline or one of his other staff. Shoving aside his uncustomary sentimentality, he moved sure-footed and took her glass. “More white?”
“Sure, though I have to war
n you that I’m a bit of a lightweight. I haven’t had that one before. I’m not a huge wine drinker. Well, I don’t mind it, but the good stuff is usually expensive.”
He shouldn’t, but the urge to tease, to prod her ever so slightly was too strong to resist. “What do you consider expensive?”
“Well, normally if I’m buying any I keep to around ten dollars or under. Sometimes though I’ll splurge and get a fifteen or twenty-dollar bottle.”
They really did come from different worlds. He made sure to fill her glass a little higher, knowing she wouldn’t be able to afford the six hundred dollar Pape Clement Blanc on her own. She had moved to the window. The view of Toronto from the cabin was beautiful. Lights from the CN Tower danced in the sky, accentuated by the shift of spotlights and flash of cars moving down Lake Shore. Jesus, she was stunning. Exactly the sort of woman everyone expected him to have on his arm. The type of woman he would have expected to marry once upon a time.
Oh hell no.
“Rules.” He waited for her to turn around before crossing the cabin to join her. These rules were as much for her benefit as his. The last thing he ever wanted to do was act like his father. He held out her glass, taking a sip of his own as she did. “I think it’s in both our best interests to establish them.”
“Sure. Rule away.” There was that sparkle in her eyes again. She turned to look back out over the city, though he could watch her face in reflected back at him from the window.
“I’m to give you forty-eight hours’ notice before an event. There will occasionally be unexpected gatherings, but my schedule is normally booked well in advance, so I have notice.” He looked down at her bare shoulder and noticed a tag peeking out from the confines of the dress. He hooked the thread and tugged the mark out. “I’ll provide you money for clothing. Starting with this one.” With a quick snap, the tag was freed.
Shock was an expression that she wore as well as the dress. “I…thank you.”
“Of course, you can’t go public with our arrangement. Yes, there’s a chance that we’ll be seen together, which is fine. But if people learn that I’m paying you for your company, it will cause me grief.” That was the understatement of the century.
Sugar Sweet Page 4
