Shaking his heated thoughts from his mind, he asked, “Would you like to see the view from the terrace?”
Claire’s eyes brightened with interest. “I’d love to.”
He led her out onto the terrace, glassed-in for the winter. Thankful for the cool air that cleared his head and cooled his overheated body, he smiled as Claire exclaimed over the view of Denver lights and the dark profile of the Rocky Mountains beyond. This view was the main reason he lived here. He was glad she liked it. It was just another thing they had in common, another reason to feel good about his decision. He smiled to himself. Not to mention the fact that he wanted to pull her hard against him and give her a whole other reason for the breathless sighs she was making over the view.
“So how long are you going to keep me in suspense?” she asked finally, turning to him.
He stared at her, dragging his mind back to reality. “You mean am I going to hire you?”
“I’ve given you my best presentation. What more can I do to convince you?”
He smiled. “The job is yours.”
She lit up like a kid at Christmas. “It is?”
“I’m offering you the position of vice president at Pawnee Investments. You’ll be in charge of all the accounting services.”
Her jaw dropped. “Vice president? I wasn’t—I didn’t even think about—All I was after was an accountant position.”
“I know, but you’ve impressed me with your innovative ideas.” Jake named a salary that made her reach for the support of the railing.
“You’re kidding!”
He shook his head.
“Isn’t there someone already working for you who deserves this?”
He shrugged. “Alan was in charge of accounting. He had a second in command—Jim Gordon—but we never discussed how well he’d do in Alan’s place. We never planned on Alan dying. All I know is that Jim understood he’d gone as high as he could go at Pawnee, and seemed to be content.”
“Don’t you want to give him the chance? It’s always better for morale to promote from within.”
Jake shook his head. “I want you.”
“Why? You don’t know how good I’ll be, either.”
“I know you’ll take good care of my money.”
She threw her hands up. “How do you know that?”
“You’ll understand when we get to my second proposal.” He knew he was being obtuse, but he wanted this settled first.
Her eyes narrowed. “What second proposal?”
He shook his head and extended his hand. “One at a time. Shall we shake on it?”
She stared at him as if he’d grown another head. “The most managerial experience I’ve had is taking over when Mr. Whitaker goes on vacation.”
“Which he does every other month.” Jake placed the hand he’d extended on his hip. “You spend half the year managing that office, which you do quite well since you had a second major in college in management.”
Her eyes narrowed at the thoroughness of his information. “Yes, but Whitaker’s only has six accountants besides me and two secretaries.”
“And Pawnee only has twenty-two accountants and seven secretaries. Not that many more than you’re used to handling.” He shook his head and chuckled.
“What?” she demanded.
“I can’t believe I’m having to talk you into accepting a position that half the accountants in Denver would kill for. Especially since you’re the one who approached me for a job.”
Her chin lifted. “Yes, but I didn’t plan on going from a plain old accountant to a vice president in the blink of an eye.”
“Is it the title that bothers you? Fine. Why don’t we call you supervisor of the accounting department? No, that’s Jim’s title. How about director? Titles don’t matter to me. Alan didn’t have a title and neither do I. What I want is someone I can trust overseeing the money. I mainly want you to keep the department honest.”
She looked thoughtful. “I can do that.”
“I know you can.”
She searched his face for a long minute. He didn’t flinch from her scrutiny, just held it steady until she hesitantly extended her hand.
“I guess director is okay. If you’re sure...”
Her hand was cold as his enclosed it. “I am.”
“I’ll have to quit Whitaker and Associates.”
“Monday morning.”
She shook her head. “I need to give notice.”
“I need you now.” With their hands still joined, Jake slowly pulled her closer.
Her smile faded as she realized what he was doing. She moved back until the glass and railing stopped her. “You do? So soon?”
“That brings me to my other proposal.” He placed his free hand on the railing beside her, smiling as her wary eyes followed his movement. He dropped her hand and slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her slender body against his. Satisfaction ran deep when she didn’t protest. He saw her nostrils flare and her eyes drop to his mouth. “There’s just one more piece of information I need before we discuss it.”
“Wh—”
He cut her question off with his lips. His assault was gentle at first, his lips softly molding, gently teasing, seducing her to trust him. Her hands wrapped around his biceps, as if she needed to hang on for support. The thought was intoxicating to him. So was the light floral scent she wore, the lush smoothness of velvet against his hands.
He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding along her teeth, seeking entrance. When she gasped for breath, he took advantage, his tongue diving into the depths of her mouth. As he felt her surrender, heat swept through his body like water through a floodgate. With a soft moan, her hands slipped up his arms and wrapped around his neck, leaving the curves of her body vulnerable if his hands wanted to take advantage. And God help him, they did. He flattened one hand across her back and worked the other into her hair to keep them from roaming at will. He didn’t want to scare her.
As the kiss lengthened, however, his blood rushing away from his brain to another part of his anatomy, the hand at her waist lowered to her gently rounded bottom and pressed her hips into his, easing the ache at the same time it made the throbbing worse.
“Damn, Claire,” he murmured against her lips. “I never dreamed you’d taste like this.”
Her voice was husky. “like what?”
“Like every piece of candy known to man, wrapped up in a tight wrapper, then melted together.” His tongue dipped inside her mouth again, then with a groan he pulled back and buried his face in her hair. He hadn’t meant to let the kiss go so far. He hadn’t known he’d have such a strong reaction when he finally got her in his arms.
She stood in his embrace for a long while, breathing hard. Then suddenly she wrenched herself away. “Damn you, Jake Anderson.”
His arms felt bereft without her warmth, and he reached to pull her back, but she stalked toward the apartment. He caught her arm just as she pulled the door open. “What’s wrong?”
She glared at him. “I told you I wouldn’t sleep with you for this job.”
“Is that why you kissed me?” He pulled her back into his arms, smiling with satisfaction as he remembered how her lips molded to his. “Somehow, I don’t think either one of us was thinking about business.”
She uttered a faint groan and hid her face under his chin.
“Look at me, Claire.”
“No.”
“Hiding isn’t going to make me go away, you know.”
She sighed. “Then what will?”
“I’ve made my decision.”
She finally looked at him, clearly confused. “What decision? You already gave me a job. You aren’t going to take it away just because—”
“I want you to be my wife.”
Chapter Four
Her mind blank with shock, Claire gaped at Jake. Minutes ticked away as her brain tried to absorb the meaning in his words. Then suddenly she started laughing.
“Oh, I get it.” She walked over to t
he edge of the terrace and spread her hands across the view. “This is all a crazy dream, and it isn’t over yet. Getting stuck in the elevator. Meeting you. Getting your account. The kiss...”
He took her hand gently off the railing, then pinched a knuckle.
“Owww.” She yanked her hand from his grip. “Why did you do that?”
“To prove this isn’t a dream.”
The consequences of that reality made the blood rush from Claire’s face. She took a step back and rubbed her hand with cold fingers. “Then I couldn’t possibly have heard what I thought I heard.”
“I guess it depends on what you thought you heard.”
“I thought—” She frowned. “That you asked me to marry you.”
He nodded calmly. “I did.”
“You didn’t. You couldn’t....” She flinched in confusion and retreated until the backs of her knees struck a patio chair. She grabbed the railing to keep from falling. “Why?”
“It’s the perfect solution. You need to have a baby, and I need an heir. So we get married.”
“I can’t marry you!”
“Why not?”
“Why not?” she asked incredulously. “There’s about a bizillion reasons why not”
“Name three.”
“Well for starters, you just met me last night. You’ve only known me twenty-four hours.”
“So?”
“I could be a hatchet murderer for all you know. You don’t know anything about me.”
He smiled tightly. “You were born Claire Angela Eden on May 8 on your family ranch, the Garden of Eden, in Dubois, Wyoming. You have two older brothers. Hank and Travis. Hank runs a small herd at the Garden—as it’s known—but his main source of income is rodeo stock. Travis is a rodeo champion. He’s currently third in world standings and is going for his eighth bull riding championship. Hank is married. Travis isn’t Hank has three children, two boys and a girl. Want to hear more?”
“A few phone calls would have gotten you that much. It doesn’t mean you know me.”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her inside the apartment. “Come on. I want to show you something in my office.”
He guided her to a room dominated by a heavy oak desk. He released her hand, then continued behind the desk and picked up a thick folder from the credenza. Flipping through it, he began reading off the teachers she’d had in grade school. When he started talking about the time she and her childhood friend Mallory sneaked off to smoke a cigar Mallory stole from her father, she reached across the desk and grabbed for the folder. He avoided her easily.
“Nobody knows about that! Who told you? Damn it, that’s my life in your hands.”
He looked up with feigned innocence. “Claire Eden 101.”
“Very funny. What did you do, hire a private detective?”
He closed the file and threw it on the desk. “Several, as a matter of fact. This morning.”
“What? Why?”
“You’ve been studying me. I thought it only fair I return the favor.”
“I wasn’t studying you. I read the article Denver Magazine did on Alan.” She pointed at the folder. “Besides, having all those facts at your disposal doesn’t mean you know me.”
He had the audacity to smile. “But I’m well on the way.”
Her chin lifted. “You have no idea what kind of filthy habits I might have. What makes you think you can stand me for the rest of your life? And I don’t know anything about you, other than you’re pig-headed and overbearing.”
“Fine. We’ll spend the next forty-eight hours together, getting to know each other. If we can still stand one another by Sunday, we’ll fly to Las Vegas and get married. Agreed?”
“No! I haven’t agreed to anything. Besides, I have to start a new job on Monday. You need me now, remember?”
“This is more important at the moment. The beans can be counted later.”
Claire stared at him across the expanse of polished wood. Become Jake Anderson’s wife? She still couldn’t believe she was his date. Then something he said earlier caught her mind. “What did you mean when you said you need an heir?”
Jake ran a hand back through his hair, then sank into the thickly padded leather chair. He studied her face for a long minute, then his eyes shifted to the floor-to-ceihng window. When his words finally came, they sounded stiff, as if he had to drag them out one by one. “I can’t let what happened to Alan happen to me. I want children. I want a wife. I want someone to leave all this to. Or else, what’s the point?”
Surprised by this tiny peek inside the enigma that was Jake Anderson, she sat in a chair facing the desk. “Surely there are other women...”
He shook his head. “The only ones I know are rich society women. I don’t want my children raised with their brand of values. You and I come from similar backgrounds. We both come from good ranch stock. Together we can raise our kids to care more about the value of life than the value of a dollar. I want a wife who’ll kiss their hurts and bake them cookies instead of patting them on the head and then flying off to Barbados for the weekend.”
Claire crossed her legs and pulled her skirt down as far it would go. “Have you considered adoption?”
“I guess that’s a possibility, but why do that when I can have the whole package? Besides, I can’t adopt a wife to help raise my children.”
“What about my job? I’ve never pictured myself as a housewife.”
“I never said you had to quit work. In fact, I’m counting on you keeping track of our money. It’ll still be in the family. Now you see why I want you as director.”
“This has to be a dream.”
His dark brow lifted. “Shall I pinch you again?”
“Very funny.” Claire stood and walked over to the window, rubbing the goose bumps off her arms. How could this be happening? It sounded like something from a book...or a soap opera. Become Mrs. Jacob Anderson? Wife of one of the richest men in Colorado?
He came up behind her, standing close enough that she could feel heat all the way down her back. Though he didn’t touch her, tiny fingers of warmth reached out, urging her back toward him.
“So?”
Shivering, she looked at him over her shoulder. “What about prenuptial agreements? What about my family? What about...”
“What about having a baby?” he demanded softly. “Marry me, and you won’t have to go through the expensive, uncertain process of in vitro.”
Claire’s gaze shifted back to the city lights beneath her. She’d imagined getting marriage proposals since she was a little girl. But she’d never, ever imagined a proposal like this. This was so cold, so calculated. She’d pictured flowers and rings and violins when she was a little girl. When she was older, she’d pictured passion and flowers and rings and violins.
“What about love?” she asked quietly, meeting his eyes in the window reflection.
A shadow crossed his face. “Love? I can’t say I believe in love. Not love that lasts.”
“I know it does,” she said. “My brother and his wife are very much in love after nine years of marriage. So much, that sometimes it hurts to watch them.”
His hands on her shoulders, Jake turned her to face him. “Has it happened to you, Claire? Have you ever been in love?”
The knife sank deep. She shook her head.
“Neither have I. I thought I was once. But it turned out to be a mirage. No more substantial than the reflection in this window.”
His voice was tight, his face so hard, she had to ask, “What happened?”
He looked past her. “Melissa left me a month before our wedding. She moved back in with her former boyfriend the day after I asked her to sign a prenuptial agreement.”
“Oh, Jake, I—”
“It doesn’t matter.” His eyes came back to hers, black as the night sky. “My point is that marriages fall apart when the emotion the couple thought was love is gone. Why base a marriage on something so uncertain?”
“What would our mar
riage be based on?”
“Mutual goals. Respect.” He slid his hands down her arms to capture hers. “And, I hope, friendship. You think I don’t know anything about you, but you’re wrong. I know you’re smart, you’re stubborn, you’re generous. I like the Claire Eden I know so far. I’d like to get to know you better.”
“Don’t you think getting married first is putting the wagon miles in front of the horse?”
“Maybe, but we don’t have time to wait. It could take months for you to get pregnant. I could die tomorrow. We need to start as soon as possible.” His thumbs rubbed circles on the backs of her hands. “I can’t promise you love, Claire. But I can promise to be faithful and to take care of you.”
Her chin lifted. “I don’t want to be taken care of. I’ve been taking care of myself since my mother died.”
“Then what do you want?”
Claire’s gaze dropped to the knot of his tie. Good question. What did she want? Love, passion—and yes, marriage and babies. But she had to face facts. The way her life was going, she wasn’t likely to get any of those things, not before her condition made it impossible for her to get pregnant She took a deep breath and searched Jake’s dark eyes. He seemed so calm, so confident that this crazy idea would work. But then, he thrived on taking risks. It’s how he made his fortune. “This is just another business deal to you, isn’t it?”
He shrugged. “It’s only been in the last century that business hasn’t been part of marriage.”
“Businesses don’t go to bed together.”
His black brow arched. “Is that what you’re worried about? Going to bed with me?”
Suddenly it felt like someone had turned the thermostat up to ninety degrees. The air between them became thick and hot, making it hard to pull air into her lungs. “Actually, I hadn’t thought that far ahead. But I guess sex would be part of the bargain, wouldn’t it?”
He smiled. “That’s how you make babies. Are you afraid of me?”
Afraid? That was too mild a word. Terrified. Panic-stricken. Those better described the emotions hurtling through her. If she thought her legs would work, she’d run screaming out of his penthouse.
And Cowboy Makes Three (Cowboys To The Rescue 2) Page 5
