With her hands shaking, she pulled out her phone and sent a text to his private number. Where are you? I’m worried...
Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. She shut down her computer and tidied her desk. Anger and frustration began to edge out the worry. Jonathan couldn’t expect her to be fully involved in his life and yet treat her like an afterthought. That wouldn’t work. Period.
Just as she was about to head home, her phone finally dinged.
Sorry. I got a call before sunrise about a crisis at the New Orleans shipyard. They needed me on-site immediately. Everything has been resolved. I should be back in town before midnight.
Even as relief eased the knot in her chest, her misgivings grew. Was this the kind of thing Jonathan might expect her to handle in the upcoming weeks? She knew the workings of Tarleton Shipping inside and out, but that didn’t mean she was adequately prepared to play his role. Her repeated assurances to him that she would be happy to help now made her feel trapped and anxious.
She wasn’t the boss. Even if she married Jonathan, what did she know about imitating a man who was an alpha leader, a charismatic figure who could calm storms with his mere presence? Signing checks and directing meetings was one thing. But what about moments like today? Could she handle it?
All evening she brooded, wondering if it would be cowardly to back out. Jonathan was not alone. He had his sister and his father, and even his friend and brother-in-law, J.B.
Jonathan Tarleton wasn’t without resources, emotional or otherwise.
Though it would seem cruel and unfeeling, she could still submit her letter of resignation. End the relationship. Walk away while she still had her pride and most of her heart.
Again she asked herself why Jonathan had suggested marriage. He claimed it was so that no one would question her legitimacy when she acted on his behalf. At some level, the explanation made sense. But what if he wanted marriage so he could manipulate her? Maybe he thought a legal union would give him more control.
In the privacy of her own home, her apprehension grew. After years of heavy responsibilities, she was now free to live her life on her own terms. Why would she give that up, knowing that to get entangled with Jonathan meant pain and heartache?
Deep in her heart, she knew why. She loved him desperately, and she wanted this time with him, however short it might be.
In the midst of her soul-searching, her cell phone rang. The number was all too familiar.
She hit the button. “Hello?”
Jonathan’s voice rumbled in her ear. “It’s me.” He sounded tired.
“Are you home?”
“I am.”
The stilted conversation was wince-worthy. He was her boss. She was his executive assistant. Despite their recent interactions, nothing had changed. Yet. She cleared her throat. “Did everything go well?”
“It did. Eventually. One of our foremen was accused of taking a bribe to use a Tarleton Shipping container for unlawful transport in exchange for drugs. The Feds were there. It was a huge mess. Fortunately, one of our solid guys reported what was about to happen. I’ve promoted him, by the way.”
“Is he in danger now?”
“Thankfully, no. It wasn’t some big international cartel. Just a local boy trying to make a buck.”
“Ah. I’m glad it’s over.”
Silence fell.
Lisette jumped in before he could say anything else. “If you don’t mind, Jonathan, I’d like to take the day off tomorrow. I have a lot to think about.”
Six
Jonathan’s gut clenched. He could hear it in her voice. She wasn’t going to stick with him. Grinding his jaw, he tried to force normal, soothing words between clenched teeth. “Of course,” he said. “Whatever you need.”
“Thank you for being patient with me.” Her tone was an attempt to placate him. The condescension only solidified the bleak disappointment that crushed his chest and made it hard to breathe.
“Why wouldn’t I?” he said lightly. He wiped sweat from his brow and shrugged out of his jacket with his free hand. “I knew going into this that our potential agreement was a long shot. Your job isn’t dependent on your answer. Surely you know that.”
“I do,” she said softly.
Damn, he hated telephone conversations. He wanted to see her face...read the expression in her eyes. Her irises were the light green of summer moss, but flecked with amber. Now that he thought about it, her eyes were definitely her best feature. A drowning man could find his way home in those eyes.
He glanced at the clock. “I should let you get to bed,” he said gruffly. “It’s late.”
Lisette murmured her agreement and broke the tenuous connection.
The word bed hovered in Jonathan’s brain like a symbol of all that was problematic with his marriage of convenience idea. Even given the definite spark between him and Lisette, she was not the kind of woman to enter into a casual relationship, marriage license or no marriage license.
He was momentarily taken aback to realize how very badly he wanted to see his ring on her finger. Were his feelings real, or was he creating an emotional connection in his brain to excuse the fact that he was trying to conscript her life to make his own easier?
It was too late to walk on the beach. Exhaustion rolled over him in a crushing wave. It was all he could do to shower and tumble into bed. Unfortunately, as soon as he turned out the lights, he began to see all the problems with his current situation.
Mazie and J.B. hadn’t taken a real honeymoon back in January when they got married, because they were both tangled in business situations needing their attention. Now that things had settled down, his sister and his best friend had airline tickets and premium hotel reservations for a three-week getaway in Hawaii. They planned to leave Charleston the first of July. Mazie had talked about nothing else for days.
Originally, Jonathan had decided to tell them his news when they got home from the islands. He didn’t want to ruin their trip.
However, now, if there was any possibility Lisette was going to agree to marry him, he needed to talk to Mazie sooner than later. Jonathan sure as hell couldn’t get married without telling his sister. She would be deeply hurt. Mazie would want to be there.
Could Jonathan do the wedding and save the bad news for later? Probably not. His sister would have too many questions about the speedy union.
His brain raced in circles. His head ached damnably despite the medication he had taken.
In an attempt to coax sleep, he shoved away all the questions about logistics and decisions and, instead, focused his thoughts on Lisette. A better man than he was would cut her loose. Absolve her of any responsibility for his future.
She deserved to be free. He had nothing to offer that would make up for the sacrifice she was considering. The fact that he was asking at all made him question his own honor.
Sleep came eventually. But it only visited in fits and starts, and was hardly restful. The following morning, he headed downtown an hour before his usual commute. Lisette wasn’t going to be there. He needed to stay ahead of the curve today.
The hours dragged by.
He had a sandwich at his desk for lunch and continued working. Because he couldn’t count on the future, he felt compelled to labor twice as hard as usual to make up for the uncertainty.
The only thing that sustained him throughout the afternoon when he wanted to sleep at his desk was the knowledge that Lisette would be with him tonight. She had promised.
At four there was a quiet knock on his office door. With no Lisette to stand guard, whoever it was had found him in his lair.
“Come in,” he said.
The woman who entered was familiar... Lisette’s friend. He gave her his best nonthreatening smile, because she seemed extremely nervous. “What can I do for you—Rebekah, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” She
shifted from one foot to the other. “I’m sorry to intrude, Mr. Tarleton, but I’m worried about Lisette. She’s been acting very odd lately, and she’s not at her desk.”
He winced inwardly, feeling more guilty than ever. His deceit was compounding expensive interest. “I’m sure she’s fine,” he said, perhaps a shade too heartily. “I would have heard if there were a problem.”
“Oh.” Rebekah hesitated. “Sorry I bothered you.”
“No bother at all.
She smiled weakly and backed up. “Thank you.”
Before he could say anything else, she was gone. Rebekah’s visit was a stark reminder that Lisette had a life which didn’t include Jonathan. He was asking a hell of a lot to drag his assistant into his personal crisis.
One glance at the clock told him he needed to leave. Earlier, he’d notified Lisette that he was sending a car service to pick her up at five thirty. Jonathan had exactly enough time to head home for a quick shower and change of clothes.
Oddly, now that the moment of decision was at hand, a feeling of peace wrapped him in calm. One way or another, tonight would give him the answers he needed. By the end of the evening he would know if Lisette was prepared to help him.
If her answer was one he didn’t want to hear, Jonathan would find his way alone.
* * *
Lisette decided, in retrospect, that taking the day off might not have been the answer to her problems. At least at work she would have been too busy to overthink the situation with Jonathan.
As it was, she ran five miles after breakfast, her apartment was now spotless and she had even baked a cake for the Tarleton Shipping receptionist whose birthday was tomorrow.
She had also spent far too much time wrangling with a decision that had no clear-cut answer.
The first hurdle in confronting the upcoming face-to-face with Jonathan was deciding what to wear. She had been to his beach house a hundred times. Tonight was different. Tonight was an occasion. Tonight she wanted to look her best.
Because there had been no let-up in the string of blistering, muggy days, she chose a pale green sundress splashed with poppies. It was new, and it was definitely not office attire. The fitted waist and flared above-the-knee skirt made her feel feminine and comfortable at the same time.
Cork-heeled taupe espadrilles with ribbons tied at the ankle completed her look. A bit of light makeup and she was done.
She hadn’t argued when Jonathan offered to send a car to pick her up. Her nerves were shredded. Driving in this condition was not advisable.
At the Tarleton front gate, the driver lowered the window so Lisette could punch in the code. Then he dropped her at the center of the driveway and departed the way he had come.
Lisette put a hand to her stomach, hoping she could even manage to eat dinner. She climbed the imposing curved staircase, pausing on the landing to admire the double mahogany doors inlaid with stained glass. Starfish and dolphins and sea turtles gamboled in bas-relief amid swirling hues of blue and green.
It occurred to her in an instant that if she married Jonathan, this would also be her house. The idea was bizarre...absurd. She was an ordinary person, the product of a single-parent home where money had always been tight, and an exciting evening out was popcorn and a movie.
This...this luxurious beachside mansion was the stuff of fantasy. Though she had worked here time and again when Gerald Tarleton or Jonathan needed her on-site, the prospect of being mistress of such a place was almost as daunting as that of being Jonathan’s wife.
On an ordinary day, she would have used her key and let herself in. The senior Mr. Tarleton had mobility issues, and the chef and housekeeper were often too busy to play butler.
But tonight Lisette couldn’t simply enter unannounced. This was Jonathan’s home. The workday was over. He had invited her here for a special dinner to discuss his future...their future.
With her heart thumping like a wild bird in her chest and her hands damp, she rang the bell.
Moments later, Jonathan himself opened the door. His warm, intimate smile soothed some of her nerves. His gaze raked her from head to toe, missing nothing. “Lisette. Right on time. I hope you’re hungry. Mrs. Rackham has outdone herself.”
“The house smells amazing.” As he stepped back to allow her to enter, she inhaled his familiar scent. Starched cotton. Warm male skin. A whiff of aftershave. The combination made her dizzy.
At the office, Jonathan invariably wore a suit. Despite Charleston’s reputation for laid back hospitality, the head of Tarleton Shipping carried himself with formal reserve. Lisette often wondered if it was because he had inherited the helm of the business at a young age and needed to establish his dominance among employees who were often two decades his senior.
Tonight Jonathan was dressed more casually, though he still wore a navy sport coat over dark gray trousers and a crisp dress shirt. He’d done without a tie. Where the top buttons of his shirt were open, she glimpsed tanned skin and a hint of collarbone.
She had to remind herself to breathe.
“We’ll go on into the dining room if that’s okay with you,” he said. “There’s a cheese soufflé on the way, and I promised we wouldn’t linger over drinks.”
Lisette lowered her voice. “Well, since you can’t drink and I’m not much of a wine connoisseur, I think we can live with that.”
She caught her breath when she saw the table settings. Whatever instructions Jonathan had given the two ladies who ran his house so well had resulted in a spread worthy of the most elegant dinner party.
Fine, pale ivory china edged with silver. Heavy sterling flatware in an intricate pattern that looked as if it might have been antique. And a blush-pink linen tablecloth. In the center of all that magnificence sat a low crystal bowl overflowing with dahlias and white roses.
Jonathan held out her chair. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“I am now,” she said, wondering if his fingers had brushed her bare shoulder by accident.
They were sitting at one corner of the table in a cozy arrangement that gave them both a spectacular view of the ocean. Jonathan lifted his crystal water glass. “To new beginnings.”
She touched her goblet to his, meeting his bland gaze with suspicion. If this largesse was supposed to sway her decision, it was doing a great job. A woman could get used to this. “To the future,” she said quietly. “May it be long and happy.”
A shadow crossed his handsome face but was gone in an instant. He seemed determined to make the evening more social than serious. Lisette was okay with that. For the moment.
The meal was fabulous, as good or better than anything she had ever enjoyed at one of Charleston’s many fine restaurants. Jonathan was a master at conversation. He’d learned at his father’s knee perhaps. The fate of poor Mrs. Tarleton was somewhat of a mystery. She was still alive. That much Lisette knew. But rumor had it that she lived somewhere far away in a mental facility.
By the time dessert rolled around—coconut cream pie in a featherlight crust—Lisette had relaxed enough to actually enjoy herself. It was rare that she spent an evening like this with a man who was both intelligent and charming and far too sexy for his own good.
Her recent blind date couldn’t compare.
As the housekeeper began to clear the table, they stood. Jonathan took Lisette’s elbow in a light touch and steered her toward the den.
Here, too, huge windows brought the outdoors inside. A fat, golden-red sun had begun its descent toward the horizon, though it was still several hours until dark.
“I’ve always loved this room,” she said. “You’re lucky to have grown up here.”
“I probably take it for granted more than I should.”
She couldn’t read his expression. When she sat on the sofa, Jonathan remained standing, though not in one place. He paced restlessly, his body language jerky and uncoordinat
ed, very different from his usual suave sophistication.
Her heart twisted. “If you’ve changed your mind, Jonathan, it’s okay. Really. I won’t be insulted.”
He stopped and glared. “I haven’t changed my mind, though I could give you the same speech.”
Lisette shook her head slowly. “I’ve done little else but think about your situation from the moment you told me. I’m still not convinced that marriage is the answer, but you know your company better than I. If you believe you need a wife to conceal your condition in the short term, I’m willing to help you.”
He exhaled deeply, as though he hadn’t been at all sure she was going to cooperate. “That’s good to hear.”
“It might be easier, though, to simply pretend we got married. There wouldn’t be as many layers of complication.”
He stood at the window, his back to her. “The legalities are important.” After a long moment of silence, he came and joined her, but on the opposite end of the couch. “If you’re acting as my stand-in, the decisions you make will have to be binding.”
“I hadn’t considered that.” After all, this was exactly why he needed her. To handle the reins of Tarleton Shipping when the CEO became too ill to function. The prospect speared her with regret and pain. “How long will you wait to tell your family?”
Jonathan grimaced. “I know it has to be soon. But I don’t want to hurt them. I don’t want to disrupt their lives.”
She slipped off her shoes and propped her arm on the back of the sofa, head on her hand. “You’re not God, Jonathan. You can’t protect them from this. They’re adults. Part of the way they’ll cope is by being there for you when things get difficult. I understand it’s hard. Being in control is who you are. You like taking charge. You’re the boss.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” His joke fell flat.
“I get being a control freak. Honestly, I’m right there with you. During my mother’s extended illness, I had to learn that setting impossibly high expectations for myself and life in general was a huge stress producer.” She paused, uncertain how he would take her next words. “You’re ill, Jonathan. You’ll have to let down your guard, your reserve, for people to help you.”
A Contract Seduction (Southern Secrets Series Book 2) Page 6
