A Contract Seduction (Southern Secrets Series Book 2)

by Janice Maynard

  His dark frown told her he hadn’t completely come to terms with what was ahead of him. “I hear what you’re saying. I’ll try. That’s all I can promise.”

  “Fair enough.”

  His fingers tapped a restless rhythm on his thighs, drawing attention to the beauty of his fit body. The seemingly relaxed masculine sprawl made her want to scoot across the cushions that separated them and curl up in his lap.

  She had to keep telling herself this was business. Or at the very least, her good deed for the year. Her stupid crush would only complicate matters. She had to ignore the fact that she wanted Jonathan to fall in love with her.

  The loving thing for her to do was keep her feelings in check and concentrate on him and what he needed. But what about her needs? Did she dare open up to him about what she really wanted? He was in a mood to offer her the moon. Maybe this was her chance to make part of her dreams come true.

  Suddenly, he leaned forward and put his head in his hands. “I owe you an apology,” he said, sighing.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Your friend. Rebekah. She came looking for you and was pretty upset that you hadn’t let her know you were going to be out of the office today. I didn’t think about the ramifications of asking you to keep my secret.”

  “Oh.” Lisette gnawed her lip. “She’s bummed because I backed out of a trip we had planned for the fall. I couldn’t explain. I suppose my not being at work today only compounded her confusion.”

  He sat up and frowned again. “Why would you cancel your vacation?”

  Lisette stared at him. “For one, I can’t take off on a girl trip if I just got married to you, and more importantly, September is three months from now. A lot of things could change.”

  She saw on his face the parade of emotions. First, the realization that she was right and, second, a grim distaste for having to plan an uncertain future. His jaw worked. “I want you to bring her in on the secret. You’ll need someone, too, Lisette. For support. I’ll ask her to sign a nondisclosure agreement.”

  “Thank you,” she said quietly. “I wouldn’t want to lose my best friend over this.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t look at your perspective sooner. I don’t mean to be selfish. This entire situation has turned me into someone I barely know.”

  Lisette felt an urgency to reach out in this moment. She leaned toward him and touched his arm. “We’re both finding our way, Jonathan. You’re not a selfish person. Not at all. No matter how off kilter you may feel, you’re the same man I’ve always admired and respected.”

  Seven

  Jonathan jerked away, angry and embarrassed. It didn’t help that Lisette looked as if she had stepped out of a spring garden. A man in his prime should be anticipating a night of pleasure with an appealing, sexy woman. Not preparing to go over dry legal documents.

  But legal documents were the reason Lisette was here.

  The concern in her eyes felt like acid on a raw wound. He didn’t want her sympathy and her kindness.

  He was a man, damn it. He wasn’t weak, and he wasn’t helpless.

  “I’ll get the paperwork,” he said curtly, wishing he could put an end to this. He leaped to his feet and strode across the room to the armoire that discreetly disguised the television and other devices. Instead of keeping the documents in his home office where someone might have stumbled upon them today, he had stashed them in a shallow drawer that held batteries and extra cords.

  The legal-size folder was cream colored with the name of his lawyer’s firm embossed in gold. Even the weight of it in his hand felt momentous. He glanced over his shoulder at Lisette. “Shall we go to the office where you can spread out the papers and read them carefully?”

  She shook her head, patting the seat beside her. “The coffee table will work. Why don’t you come sit by me so you can explain stuff? Besides, I trust you. I don’t have to read every word.”

  “Well, you should,” he grumbled. “You’re far too trusting.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “I told you I don’t want your money. So there’s nothing for me to worry about, now is there?”

  Her snippiness restored his sense of humor. “Duly noted.” He sat down beside her and was immediately assailed by an array of sensory delights. Her hair smelled like lemons. Her bare knees peeking out from beneath the hem of her sweet yet sexy dress struck him as unbearably erotic.

  He cleared his throat and opened the folder, leaning forward slightly to place it in front of her on the polished wooden surface. “Take your time,” he said. “There’s lots of legal speak, but I think most of it is understandable in context. Let me know if you have questions.”

  Lisette leaned forward as well. They were sitting hip to hip. In better days, the two of them had gone over contracts together a hundred times. But never one like this.

  Staring down at the sheaf of papers did little to distract his attention from how close she was...how good she smelled. Lisette was a woman. A woman he was hoping to marry.

  For convenience, surely. And because she could and would keep his secret. But, try as he might, attempting to look at this situation as just another legal transaction didn’t compute.

  It was clear to him she was at least skimming the contents of the document and making note of the headings. He had included a generous posthumous settlement for his widow-to-be, as well as monthly payments to her personal account for the time that she would be his wife.

  The lengthy silence on her part unsettled him. Perhaps the reality of seeing everything laid out in black-and-white was causing second thoughts.

  At last she closed the folder, sat back and gave him a long, searching stare. “You can’t give me five million dollars in exchange for six months of my life.” The tone was flat.

  “Of course I can. And we both know it might be longer than six.”

  Lisette’s eyes flashed. “Six, twelve, eighteen...it doesn’t matter. Your inheritance should go to your sister. Or your brother. Or both.”

  His fists clenched. “Hartley gets nothing from me. If you want to be noble and stupid, you can give your share to him. But not until I’m dead and gone.”

  “Do you know how irrational you sound when the subject of your brother comes up?”

  Now his jaw was as tight as his fists. “Stay out of this, Lisette. I mean it. It has nothing to do with you.”

  “So I’ll be your wife, but not really? You’re the one who told me I would be family. Was that a lie?” Her dark gaze judged him and found him wanting.

  “Quit twisting my words. You know what I mean.”

  “What happens if I don’t sign your precious prenup?”

  “Then no marriage.”

  Her jaw dropped the tiniest bit. Just enough to make him want to kiss those soft pink lips that had formed a tiny O of surprise. “But you need me.”

  He nodded. “I do. On my terms, though. My honor and my reputation are very important to me. In the end, that’s all a man really leaves behind. If you choose to do this enormous, crazy thing for me, I’m determined to take care of you, Lizzy, even from the grave.”

  During his admittedly pompous speech, her eyes grew bigger and bigger. Moisture sheened that beautiful sea-glass green gaze. “I keep thinking this isn’t real,” she whispered.

  His throat tightened, making it hard to speak. “So do I.”

  “Oh, Jonathan.” She wrapped her arms around him, obviously seeking to offer comfort.

  But he was far beyond being pacified by a simple hug. He craved the oblivion of physical passion. With his heart slamming in his chest, he rested his chin on top of her head.

  Then, because his self-control was tenuous at best under the circumstances, he eluded her embrace and stood. His forehead was damp with sweat. His mouth was dry. “There’s nothing in the contract about physical intimacy. I want you to have time to get to know me
. To decide if a marriage in every sense of the word is something you want. But those considerations are strictly between you and me. Whether or not we decide to live together as man and wife in the same bed, the terms of the contract are binding.”

  Lisette stood as well. In her bare feet, she seemed small and vulnerable. Yet the woman he knew so well was resilient and resourceful.

  He followed her when she went to the window, though he kept a safe distance between them. The ocean was gray and dark now, painted with a vivid stripe of gold and red cast by the sun trying valiantly to stay above the horizon. The room was becoming dim. No one had turned on a light.

  Lisette shrugged. “In other circumstances, I might have enjoyed becoming your lover.”

  With her back to him, she couldn’t see his shock. “And now?” he asked, the words strained.

  She whirled and leaned against the glass, her arms crossed below her breasts. “I don’t want to fall in love with you and have my heart broken.”

  Disappointment flooded his chest. “I see.”

  “I doubt you do. You’re an extremely handsome man. I’m sure that any number of women have wanted to seduce you. And yet I don’t even know if you’ve been in a serious relationship recently.”

  “I haven’t,” he said brusquely. “Nothing but work and family. I’m a very dull boy.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Nice try.” After a hushed breath, she let her gaze slide over him from head to toe. As if she were sizing up an item she meant to purchase. It was not the look of an innocent who was curious. Nor was it particularly flirtatious. Instead, her frank assessment was intense. Personal.

  Her shoulders lifted and fell, drawing attention to creamy skin and a delicate collarbone. “I think you forgot something.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Surely not. My lawyer is very thorough.”

  Lisette actually chuckled. The feminine sound made the back of his neck tingle. “You told me I could ask for anything I wanted,” she said. “Don’t you remember?”

  “Ah, yes. The orange M&M’s. Is that it?”

  She shook her head slowly, pale green eyes filled with a million secrets he couldn’t decipher. “Of course not.”

  “Then what?”

  As he stared at her, half aroused, half alarmed, her tongue came out and wet her lips. In that moment, he realized she wasn’t calm at all.

  “Lisette?” He prompted her, trying to break the long gap in the conversation.

  She shrugged, her expression both wary and intent. “I want you to give me a baby.”

  * * *

  Lisette winced when Jonathan actually stumbled backward a step, his shock almost palpable. When he didn’t respond, her stomach clenched, and her face and throat burned. “Say something,” she muttered, mortified that she had actually gone through with her proposition. The idea had come to her in the middle of the night. At 3:00 a.m., it had even made perfect sense.

  “Umm...” Jonathan rubbed his chin where the faint shadow of dark beard said he might not have shaved since early morning. She liked the way he looked. A lot.

  “That’s not an answer.”

  He cursed beneath his breath. “Good Lord, Lisette. You can’t drop a bomb like that and expect an immediate response. Is this for real?”

  “Of course it’s for real,” she snapped. “I don’t go around asking men to get me pregnant for the heck of it.”

  “But why?”

  His befuddlement made her angry. “You have no clue, do you? I’m thirty-seven, Jonathan. Five years older than you, almost five and a half.”

  “Five years is nothing.”

  “Says the man who’s not even thirty-two. I’ve spent all of my adult life caring for my mother. Thankfully, she’s at peace and no longer in pain. I’m free to make a life for myself. But there’s no significant other on the horizon, and now I’m contemplating being with you for a year, give or take. My stupid biological clock is ticking. I don’t think I should wait any longer.”

  “A baby...” He said it with wonderment and concern as if he actually had no idea at all how the process started.

  “It’s not so farfetched,” she said quietly. “You’re a decent man, and if I did get pregnant, you could look at it as leaving a piece of yourself behind.”

  His face darkened. “It? The baby? It wouldn’t be an it though, would it? Your baby would be mine, too. A precious little one I’d love. And grieve all the more to have to say goodbye. What you’re asking isn’t fair, Lizzy.”

  She hadn’t thought of it in those terms. Of course he would love a baby. And not living to see his own child grow up would be a terrible burden to bear.

  Still, something inside her said this was the perfect time, the perfect man, her last chance.

  Was she fooling herself to think she wouldn’t come to love Jonathan exponentially more as his wife, as the mother of his child? How could she bear it? Unless, when her heart was broken and aching at losing Jonathan, she could find comfort in a baby... a tiny version of him to love.

  “I suppose not,” she said, trying to put herself in his shoes. “But promise me you’ll think about it. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important to me. Very important, Jonathan.”

  He nodded slowly, his expression grim. “I promise. Though I have to be honest with you... I can’t imagine changing my mind. My sister and brother-in-law are struggling to get pregnant. What would they think if I deliberately tried to get you pregnant knowing I won’t live to raise my own child?”

  “If they eventually conceive, this baby...our baby...would be a cousin. That’s special and sweet.”

  He shook his head slowly. “You make a persuasive argument. I’ll think about it. I can’t give you more than that.”

  She nodded, though something told her he wouldn’t be easy to convince. “Hand me something to write with. Let’s do this, and then I don’t want to see these papers ever again.”

  Jonathan’s expensive fountain pen was weighty in her hand. She signed her name again and again...everywhere a small yellow flag denoted her input. Finally, she capped the pen, straightened the papers and closed the folder.

  Her husband-to-be had stared at her the entire time as if afraid she might bolt. Now he smiled. “You’re doing a good thing, Lisette. I’m grateful. I swear you won’t regret it.”

  That was a vow he likely couldn’t keep. She felt sick with nerves. She was signing her life away in order to watch the man she cared for deeply abandon her in death. She was in love with him, planning to build a life—albeit temporary—with him, and then would ultimately watch it disappear. Was she crazy to go through with the marriage?

  But then again, life in general was nebulous and uncertain. She had to take this chance. “What next?” she asked quietly.

  “I’ve spoken to the judge. He’s a family friend. We can get married in his chambers Saturday morning.”

  She sucked in a breath. “So soon?”

  “No reason to wait.”

  “Will it be just you and me?”

  “We’ll need witnesses. You’ll bring Rebekah. I’ll have Mazie and J.B.”

  “Which means we have to tell them tomorrow.”

  “Yes.”

  “And what about your father?”

  For once, the decisive head of Tarleton Shipping appeared unsure. “I’m still wrestling with that one. Most days he’s fine, but his mental faculties slip in and out. I’m not sure he’d be capable of keeping either secret—my health or the real reason for the marriage. I think it may be best not to say anything at all to him for the time being.”

  “Don’t you think he’ll notice someone new is living in his house?”

  Her sarcasm rolled off Jonathan without hitting its mark. “Dad’s quarters are on the main floor. He won’t have a clue what you and I are doing upstairs.”

  Suddenly, a startling vision flashed in he
r brain. Jonathan’s bed. The two of them naked between the sheets. Her breathing quickened. “People will expect us to take a honeymoon,” she said, trying not to think about what traditionally happened on post-wedding trips.

  “True.” He frowned. “I suppose we could go somewhere for a few days.”

  “Or simply say that things at work are too busy for you to be gone right now...that we’re planning a big romantic getaway for later in the year.”

  “Unfortunately, we just finished a series of seminars on work/life balance. Remember?”

  “Ah...” He was right. Jonathan was a great employer. The benefits package at Tarleton Shipping was second to none. He encouraged his staff to take their vacation days...all of them. Research underscored that a happy, well-rested work force was more productive.

  How would it look if the boss himself didn’t even take time off to get married?

  Jonathan punched something into his phone. “A week in the Caribbean should do it, don’t you think?”

  She blinked. “The Caribbean?”

  “One of my buddies owns a villa in Antigua. He’s offered it to me half a dozen times. Comes complete with a household staff. Nothing to do but relax in the sun. I just sent him a text.”

  “Wouldn’t it be booked by now?”

  “Maybe not this time of year. Winter is high season.”

  Seven days and nights in a tropical paradise with a fake husband who just happened to be her boss. What could possibly go wrong?

  Before she could come up with a believable objection, Jonathan’s phone dinged. He held it up triumphantly. “We’re in for the entire week. He says the days are available.”

  “Do you really want to be gone that long?” Jonathan rarely took any time for himself.

  He dropped his phone on the desk. “We need this, Lizzy. A chance to get used to each other away from prying eyes. The fiction of a honeymoon will make things that much easier when we go back to work.”