That was the wrong thing to do. She went stiff. Her hands flattened to his chest, and she shoved for all she was worth.
Holden lifted his head, opened his eyes. Hers were wide open and glittering up at him. “Get off me,” was all she said.
He didn’t bother telling her that she was the one sitting on his lap. Instead he straightened, letting her slide off him. Not to sit beside him, but landing on her feet on the redwood floor instead. She smoothed her hair, narrowed her eyes. “Just so we’re clear on this,” she said, “I don’t do one-night stands anymore.”
He lifted his brows. “Does that mean you did once?”
Her look turned thunderous.
“Forget I asked that. It was rude…unforgivable. Look, I didn’t mean to kiss you like that just now.”
“You didn’t?” she asked, sarcasm dripping from her voice.
“No,” he said, looking at his feet, going for humble and apologetic. “I opened my eyes and there you were, snuggled up in my arms. So close, so soft and…and so beautiful.” He peeked up at her. The anger was fading. Disbelief remained, but she didn’t look ready to skin him now. At least, not as much as she had a moment ago. “I thought maybe I was dreaming,” he went on. “And when you kissed me back, I knew I didn’t want to wake up.”
Lucy stared hard at him, searched his eyes, sought the lie, but he was too good to reveal it. Finally she sighed and shook her head. He did have one thing on her. She had kissed him back. At first.
And it had been like touching some unknown element and watching it shimmer and ripple in reaction to that touch.
Wow. Why the hell did Lucy Brightwater have to be a good girl?
“Just don’t let it happen again.” She straightened her skirt, smoothed her hair again. “I—I should go.”
“No, wait.” For some reason he didn’t want her to leave just yet. Something about it felt wrong. He was almost desperate—very unlike him—but he couldn’t help that. “We never ate last night…and…man, do you smell that?”
She sniffed. She smelled it, he could tell she did. Consuella must be whipping up one hell of a Sunday breakfast this morning.
“I’m really not hungry,” Lucy said. Then her stomach growled.
Holden looked down at her belly and crooked a brow. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she said.
“Well, I have plans for the day, and I’m going to bug you until you cooperate with them, so you may as well eat first.”
“What sort of plans?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see.”
“I’m on call—”
“Liar. I checked, and you’re free.”
“But…I need to check on Claudia.”
“Already on the itinerary.”
Lucy frowned hard at him, falling silent. “Just what do you want from me, Holden Fortune?”
“You really want to know?” he asked.
“Yes, I really want to know. Why all this attention? Why are you making such an effort?”
He pursed his lips, took a breath. “Actually,” he said, “I think I might just want to marry you.”
Lucy’s jaw dropped open and she stared up at him in abject shock. When she didn’t speak, it was, he assumed, because she couldn’t. He took advantage of that situation, taking her by the arm and guiding her back into the house, as she shuffled at his side, just gaping at him. And by the time she recovered the ability to speak, Holden was pushing her chair underneath her in the breakfast room, and unfolding her napkin on her lap for her.
“Coffee or tea?” he asked, reaching for her cup.
“What the hell do you mean, you want to marry me?” she replied.
Consuella stood halfway from the kitchen door to the breakfast table, a tray of pastries in her hand, and said, “¡Dios mío!”
Four
Lucinda was still digesting what he’d just blurted to her. Only now she was sitting in a charming little breakfast nook, in a sunroom, with glass walls and ceiling in a curving pattern that drenched her in cheerful yellow sunlight. In front of her was a heaping plate, a brimming coffee cup, and a juice glass full of liquid sunshine, apparently, just in case there wasn’t enough of the other kind.
“Good God, I can’t eat all this.”
The maid, or cook or whoever, Consuella, a plump middle-aged woman who seemed to be practically beaming, swooped in and snatched her plate away, replacing it with a fresh one. “I get you whatever you wish for, chiquita. You want fruit? Eh? Yogurt? Oh, Consuella’s special omelette, eh? I make—”
“No, no, please.” Lucinda held up a hand. “Don’t go to any trouble. I just meant there was too much of this wonderful food on my plate, is all…”
“Psssh, it is no trouble at all, Miss Lucinda. No trouble at all for Mister Holden’s bride-to-be!” She clapped her hands together, grinning ear to ear. “Such a nice girl, too!” she bubbled as she trotted back through the door into the kitchen.
“But I’m not…” Lucinda drew a breath through gritted teeth and glared at Holden. “What would possess you to say such a thing where she could hear?” she asked.
“To be honest, I didn’t realize she was there when I—”
“She thinks you were serious for goodness’ sake!”
“Well I…” Holden licked his lips, buttered a blueberry muffin, and set his knife down precisely. “I was serious.”
Lucy blinked. “You…you’ve only known me for approximately twenty-four hours.”
“What’re you, kidding? I’ve known you since high school.”
“You don’t even remember me from high school.”
He averted his eyes. “I do so.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Prove it, then. What do you remember?”
He took a deep breath, knitting his brow. “I remember you were always around. I used to wonder if you were following me, but I kind of thought you were too shy for that. You never said much. Just seemed to be off in the distance…watching me whenever I looked up. At football practice, or at lunch or whenever.”
Licking her lips, Lucinda reached for a muffin and tore a chunk out of it, wishing it were Holden Fortune’s flesh. God, how she’d ached for him, longed for him, fantasized about him…. Reality hadn’t been half as good as the dream, though.
“You must have really liked me, didn’t you?”
She eyed him, saying nothing.
“So it stands to reason you could like me again.” He sighed. “You got me out of a mess once, I remember that.”
She’d been bringing the muffin to her lips, but stopped halfway. “Oh?”
“It was the Valentine’s Day dance, senior year. I was going with some blonde…what the hell was her name?”
“Tiffany,” Lucinda said. “Her name was Tiffany.”
“Right. Right, Tiffany.” He grinned and shook his head. “She dumped me that night.”
“And you were devastated.”
“Yeah. Well, no girl had ever dumped me before. Wrecked my perfect record, you know. Made me look bad in front of the guys.”
Lucinda lifted her brows.
“Someone had smuggled some booze into the dance, and I got into it. Wound up so drunk I could barely stand up. And then I danced with you.”
She nodded. “To make Tiffany jealous.”
He looked at her sharply. “Well, that wasn’t the only reason.”
“No, I didn’t think so, either, at first. In fact, you were so cuddly and clingy, I thought…well, it only took a few steps before I realized you were holding me so close because you’d fall down if you didn’t.”
Holden’s brows furrowed. “Hey, that’s not fair. How do you know I wasn’t holding you because I wanted to?”
“How do you think I know?”
He scowled even more deeply, trying to remember. “One of the chaperones smelled the booze on my breath, threatened to call my father, but you stepped in and said you’d drive me home safe and sound. Got me out of it. They never ca
lled Cameron, and I never got my hide tanned. Not only that, but I made it home in one piece. All thanks to you.”
She nodded, forcing a sweet smile. “And when we got back to your place?”
Holden blinked, his gaze turning inward. “I must have passed out. I don’t remember a damn thing.”
“No. No, I know you don’t. Do you remember that you were back with Tiffany the very next day?”
He stared hard at her. “My God…it never occurred to me to think…that hurt you, didn’t it? I can’t believe it.”
She blinked and turned her head. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“If I was back with Tiffany the next day, Lucy, then the only thing that proves is that I was a damn idiot who didn’t know a good thing when I saw it.”
“Yeah, right. Look, I really have to leave.” She pushed her chair away from the table, got to her feet.
He was out of his chair in a heartbeat, gripping her shoulders. “It seems a little odd you’d have been that upset over it, though. I mean, it was only one dance, after all, and I was drunk, and…” He frowned. “Did something else happen between us that night?”
She looked away. “Don’t you think you’d remember if it did?”
Holden searched her face for a long time, then finally licked his lips and sighed. “Look, can we just forget about all of that? Please? I was a kid, spoiled, stupid, self-centered and drunk to boot. And besides, what I’m offering you now has nothing to do with that.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“No.”
She nodded, staring him down, unblinking. “And just what are you offering me, Holden?”
He blew a long sigh through pursed lips. “You ought to know. You’re the one who put the idea into my head.” He waited. She said nothing. He let go of her arms, and paced away. “A deal. An agreement. An…an arrangement.”
She blinked slowly, and finally felt as if she had a clue where he was taking this.
“You marry me, be my wife for a year. I inherit my share of dear old Dad’s fortune, and you get your clinic. We both walk away at the end of twelve months with exactly what we want.”
“Do you realize how much money it will take to make the clinic a reality?”
He turned and smiled a little crookedly. “I expected a flat-out no. This is progress.”
“I need a million dollars, Holden.”
“I’ll give it to you. More if you want. Whatever you need.”
Lucinda’s throat went as dry as desert sand. “You’d give me…a million dollars?”
“I’ll be inheriting hundreds of millions. But I can’t get a nickel of it until I am married to a respectable woman.”
Lucinda sank back into her chair as all the will fled her body. She could see it all. The clinic, the educational programs… My God, with a million she could even buy a couple of small buses to transport women to and from their appointments….
“I couldn’t… It’s ridiculous.”
“Why? What’s so ridiculous about it? I like you, Lucy. You’re smart, and capable and strong. Hell, how can you turn it down when it’s the perfect answer to your problems?”
She blinked again. “A—a business arrangement.” He nodded. “It would… I mean, it wouldn’t change anything. It would just be on paper, this marriage.” She almost bit her tongue trying to stop the words from coming.
Holden walked slowly back to his own chair, sat and studied his plate. “Actually it would have to be slightly more than that.”
Frowning, Lucinda lifted her head.
“Well, it would have to look real. I mean, if my father’s lawyers aren’t convinced…and as for the rest of the family…”
“What about them?”
“They’d crucify me if they thought I was just…using you.”
She nodded slowly. “So I’d have to move in here. Not that I’m actually considering this, but—”
“Here, or the apartment,” he said quickly.
She lifted one brow, glared at him.
“Right,” he told her, “you’d have to move in here. I’ve got a whole wing to myself, though. You could have your own space. All you want, in fact. My mother would love having you here. And you’d have servants, and the pool, that back porch swing whenever you want it. A car to drive that doesn’t stall out at red lights.”
“My car does not stall out at red lights.” She sighed and nodded slowly. “But just for the record, between us…nothing would have to…happen.”
Holden studied her face. “No. Absolutely not. In fact, I’d prefer it didn’t.”
She felt her brows raise. “Gee, thanks.”
“Come on, Lucy. You know damn good and well you’re a knockout. I just think…this would be better for both of us if we kept it…cool.”
She drew a breath, sighed heavily. “I can’t. It’s quite an offer, Holden, but I—”
“Think about it?”
She fell silent again. This was stupid. She couldn’t possibly… “Okay. I’ll think about it. Give me a couple of days. All right?”
He met her eyes, held them. “I can’t ask for more than that, can I?”
She had to be out of her mind. Completely out of her mind to actually be considering this.
But she was considering it. And the more she thought on it, the better it looked. Hell, it wasn’t as if she’d be giving anything up. And in a year she could have her clinic.
She’d gone back to her own apartment to shower and change clothes. Holden planned to pick her up there in time for lunch. Apparently, he was serious about all of this. Serious enough to want to spend time with her today, probably in an effort to convince her to accept his deal. And she was too damned weak where he was concerned to tell him no.
But there was a certain poetic irony to all of this. After he’d all but demolished her life, he was now back offering her one of her longtime dreams on a silver platter. Her clinic.
But what about her other dream? The baby she so wanted. Could she have both? Could she put off having a child until this…this arrangement with Holden was over? She certainly couldn’t do both at once. He’d made it pretty clear this was to be a hands-off arrangement. Well, she supposed she’d have the answer to that question today. When she got the results of her ultrasound exam, she’d know whether putting off having a child for another year was a viable option.
And there was another worry that kept haunting her mind. Try as she might to forget them, Lily’s words kept floating back to her. Holden Fortune could hurt her if she let him. And she was damned afraid she could let him, all too easily. There was still something inside her…some feelings lingering there, left over from high school, she supposed. That childhood crush, that first case of puppy love had left remnants. Or were they scars? And why was it she still felt like a clumsy, skinny teenager when she was around Holden Fortune?
Her doorbell chimed before she even finished drying her hair. She’d pulled on jeans and her favorite white T-shirt with the cat decal. Her feet were still bare, her hair still damp. Great. Well, he might as well get a good look at what he was getting here. And she supposed she couldn’t look much worse than she had this morning, waking in his arms still wearing the clothes she’d slept in.
She opened the door.
Holden smiled at her. “I know, I’m early. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Come on in.” He did, and looked around. Her cat, Cleo, eighteen pounds and about as graceful as a moose, stomped over to him, stared up for a second or two, and then rubbed against his legs.
Holden bent to scratch Cleo’s head. “Wow. That’s some cat.”
“You allergic or anything?”
“Not that I know of. Although if I were, I suppose we’d know soon enough. I’ve never seen so much hair on one animal.”
“He’s a Persian,” she said. “They have a lot of fur. And it isn’t the hair that causes allergic reactions, anyway, it’s the dander. But if you’re not careful…” He’d scooped the cat into his arms and straightened with a grunt before
she finished. Lucinda licked her lips. “If you’re not careful, that fur will be all over your clothes,” she finished.
“You’re one heavy fellow, you know that? What do you eat, sides of beef? Hmm?”
Lucinda watched him. He didn’t drop the cat and start brushing stray hairs from his shirt, or wrinkle his nose in distaste or start sneezing, the way her last three dates had each done, respectively. He just kept petting the cat, who began purring so loudly it sounded like a B-52 was dive-bombing her living room.
“What’s his name?”
“Cleo,” she said. And when she said his name, her pet looked toward her.
“Poor thing’s obviously underfed,” Holden said. He stopped petting, and Cleo immediately batted his hand. “Oooh, bossy little cuss, aren’t you?”
Lucinda took Cleo from his arms and put him down, and Cleo gave her a disgusted look before padding away. Then she looked back at Holden. “So, you don’t hate my cat?”
“No. Was I supposed to?”
“Where I go, he goes. You ought to know that.”
Holden smiled. “Oh, man, my mother is going to—”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” she interrupted. Then she paced away, hand on her chin. “She’ll probably hate him. All the cat hair on that expensive furniture of hers. And he’s going to be all over that house. We’ll never keep him quarantined in one wing.”
“Lucy, will you slow down? I was going to say, my mother will be in seventh heaven. Dad would never let her keep pets in the house, and she always wanted to. She and Cleo will be best friends, I guarantee it.”
“Oh.” She lowered her head.
“Thought you’d found a reason to turn me down, didn’t you?”
“Oh, don’t worry. There are others.” She looked up, saw the disappointment in his face, felt guilty.
“Should we discuss them now, then? Because I’ll tell you, Lucy, I’m willing to do anything to make this work. It’s the perfect solution to both our problems, and the more I think about it, the better it sounds.”
Million Dollar Marriage Page 6
