HisMarriageBargain

by Sidney Bristol

  His Marriage Bargain

  Sidney Bristol

  So Inked, Book 3

  A woman who loves too much…

  When Autumn’s best friend proposes a pretend marriage, the chance to make all the kisses she’s imagined real is too much for her to pass up. She seduces him with her body and enjoys pushing his boundaries and fulfilling their sexual fantasies—but her heart isn’t supposed to be part of the bargain.

  A man about to take his last breath…

  Sammi has just weeks left to live out his dying wish—the white picket fence, the house and the wife. If Autumn is the last woman he gets to taste he’ll die a lucky man. Her body, her heart—everything about her calls to him. But love isn’t supposed to be in the plans.

  In the crucible of passion, these two lovers will find out what they’re really made from, and just how long I do lasts.

  A Romantica® contemporary erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

  His Marriage Bargain

  Sidney Bristol

  Chapter One

  Fine Line Tattoos—Technique that involves the use of a very fine needle, sometimes a single pin, to do detail work. Often used in portraits, gray wash and cartoon tattoos.

  Autumn pinched her forearm. The sharp bite of pain told her everything she needed to know.

  This is not a dream.

  “Autumn?” Her best friend, Samuel “Sammi” Zimmerman lowered to one knee, placing his hand on her bare thigh. Fantasies, dreams of those same hands doing other things to her body were not far off.

  “Oh—my—god.” Autumn gaped at him. This couldn’t be happening.

  Sammi’s gaze bored into her with an intensity she’d only ever imagined him turning on her. Usually he was talking business in rapid-fire language she didn’t hope to understand. He’d taken a one-eighty and now it was as if she’d stepped onto the pedestal of importance in his life.

  “It’s just a question,” he said.

  Autumn pushed his hand off her leg. “It’s a pretty serious question, if you ask me.”

  She needed to think. Actually use her brain. Reacting on emotions and engaging situations based on her feelings was her norm. This—this situation required thought.

  Autumn stood and strode across the hardwood floors of Sammi’s condo. Her heels clicked with an authoritative sound. Something about a great pair of stilettos always made Autumn feel a little more in charge, but that was typically because of the way it made her legs and ass appear to the opposite sex. She’d never been a saint. As a teen she’d been aware her body made men want to promise and do things for her. And she had no regrets she’d used it to her advantage. Or at least she’d thought so.

  Not thinking about that now…

  She wrestled her thoughts into the present but it was difficult. Sammi was a silent presence at her back. Autumn could smell his cologne. He may be close enough to touch but she didn’t dare look at him. Looking at him short-circuited her brain. He was just too damn handsome. And knew it. He breathed confidence in all things, and right now she had none.

  I’m really not dreaming?

  “Can you run this by me one more time?” she asked.

  Maybe if she wasn’t looking at him, if his charm wasn’t amped up to eleven and aimed at her, she could comprehend what he was asking of her.

  Sammi stepped next to her and leaned against the glass window, hands in the pockets of his gray slacks. He had just enough stubble and a natural tan to appear the high-powered playboy he was. She’d pegged him as a “love ’em and leave ’em” kind of man the moment he stepped into the So Inked tattoo shop.

  And she’d been right.

  The first time she’d seen Sammi, he’d come to tell the owners, Mary and Kellie, that his father had passed away. Since the family owned the building their shop was in, they would be dealing directly with him pertaining to their lease.

  Since then, Autumn had sat on the sidelines and watched enough women go in and out of his bed to know the score and that she didn’t want to play. Not with a man so emotionally unavailable.

  It was easy to relegate Sammi to the friend zone, but she’d never stopped wanting him.

  Autumn broke first, glancing at him.

  He peeked sideways at her, flashing a smile full of sensuality. Her lady parts quivered but she held herself back.

  Think. Don’t feel.

  “I was kind of hoping you’d agree,” he said.

  Autumn turned to face him. What? Did he think she’d blindly go along with whatever he said? She had the sudden urge to scratch one of his eyes out. “Grabbing a burger, seeing a movie, going to Cancun, those are all things I don’t have to think about before saying yes. This, this is different!”

  “Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll explain,” he said quickly, yet he lapsed into silence, staring out the windows looking onto the lake.

  The momentary excitement fizzled, leaving her cold inside. There were perks to being friends with Sammi. He was wealthy, liked to party in style, and so long as a girl was beautiful or sexy or adventurous or entertaining, he’d extend an invitation and pick up the bill. Once you scratched the surface he was a good guy, deeply attached to his family, hardworking to a fault and generous. But none of that gave him license to use her.

  Of all Autumn’s sins, trading her body for what she wanted had never been one of them. She crossed her arms, suddenly wishing for more clothing, but the sweltering Texas heat made anything beyond abbreviated hemlines and skimpy tops uncomfortable.

  Sammi’s voice was deep, rich like melted chocolate when he spoke. His gaze dropped to the floor, as if he were seeing the past in his mind’s eye. “When I was a kid I got sick. Doctors said one thing was wrong with me, others diagnosed me with something else. No one could figure it out. I went from being on the football starting line to a wheelchair—and no one could tell my family why.”

  Autumn’s heart leapt into her throat. She’d had to watch firsthand a friend losing all mobility. Carly, their shop manager, had been paralyzed in an accident a year before. It still haunted them all, and watching Carly struggle was the worst of it.

  Sammi’s gaze flicked to her face, his demeanor serious. “I was diagnosed with Guillain-Barré syndrome. It’s a disorder where the immune system gets confused and attacks part of the nervous system. I spent my middle school and most of my high school years being treated. I was in a wheelchair for about two years. They didn’t think I would live to be an adult.”

  “Oh Sammi— I— Don’t know what to say.” She blinked back the moisture in her eyes.

  Sammi caught her hand, pressing her knuckles to his lips. His touch was sweet, but the glance he cast her way was all playboy. “Say yes?”

  “I don’t understand how all of this is connected.” Autumn pulled her hand from his grasp.

  Use what’s upstairs, girl.

  “You drive a hard bargain.” He sighed dramatically and turned to give her his full attention, all business. “The truth? In Jewish culture it’s emphasized that men will get married and provide an heir. I honestly never thought I’d live this long, and maybe it’s cheesy, but whatever. I always wanted to get married, have the white picket fence. All of it.”

  Autumn rocked forward on her toes, hanging on his words. There was a catch coming, she could sense it.

  “I’m dying, Autumn. I have a limited amount of time left. Very few people get Guillain-Barré twice in their life and it looks like I’m that unlucky bastard. It’s too late to do marriage the way my mother would want, but that’s not what I want anyway. I want to enjoy the time I have left. Maybe knock some things off my bucket list. One of those is getting married. Now I know we’re only friends and this is crazy, but I’m prepared to offer compensation. I’ll take care of my medical ex
penses and hospice care. I just want to spend the good times I have left with someone I like. Someone who can have fun. I’m telling you, my lawyer and my doctor, no one else.”

  “But why me?” she blurted. Why not his ex-girlfriend? Or the long line of girls who wanted a chance to be with him?

  Sammi blinked at her as if he didn’t understand the question. “Why not you? You’re my best friend. I have the best time with you. Who else would I want to spend the rest of my life with?”

  Autumn’s breath caught in her throat. They were perhaps the most beautiful words anyone had ever spoken to her, and for the most heartbreaking reason.

  He wanted a friend, not a lover.

  Sammi dropped to his knee again.

  Oh god…

  He dug in his pocket for a moment before producing a ring with a stone big enough to knock a linebacker on his ass.

  This is happening…

  “What do you say? Will you marry me?”

  What do I say?

  Sammi stared up into the face of his last hope and saw the dreams he’d pinned on Autumn’s accepting his proposal crumbling before his very eyes.

  She’s going to say no.

  It had been worth a shot. Of all the women he knew, the only one Sammi could see having fun and being up for crazy adventure—the only one he could see himself living with—was Autumn. His last girlfriend had been a gold-digging socialite. The one before her had been a Jewish heiress who couldn’t smile. Time after time he’d taken those girls home only to meet up with Autumn for a drink afterward. He’d looked forward to her company more than the women he’d supposedly been in a relationship with.

  He closed his eyes.

  How did he even come back from this?

  Was he going to lose one of his best friends? He was going to need every one of them in the weeks to come.

  “Okay. Yes. I’ll marry you.”

  Sammi jerked his chin up and stared at Autumn. She had her hands pressed over her face and there were tears in her eyes.

  “Really?” He gaped at her, not daring to hope.

  “Yes, I’m serious.” She nodded and her eyes rounded as if she couldn’t believe what she was saying either.

  Fuck it.

  Autumn Schaeffer was going to be his wife.

  Relief and a thrill of excitement coursed through his veins.

  She waved her left hand at him.

  “Oh, right.” He chuckled and took the ring out of the box.

  He was doing it.

  He, Samuel Zimmerman, was going to get married.

  Sammi grabbed her hand and pushed the ring onto her finger. It wasn’t coincidence he knew her size. He’d schemed to figure it out last week as she’d tried on silly costume jewelry and found a ring that fit only her ring finger. This plan had been brewing in his mind for a few weeks now, since the first sign of weakness in his legs returned.

  Autumn stared at the rock, lips slightly parted. She looked more wary of the ring than excited by the glittering bauble, but hopefully she’d warm up to it. And him. They could have fun together. He could be good to her, for what time he had left.

  At a glance, Autumn appeared to be just a heavily tattooed woman with a large personality and small clothes. He’d been guilty of thinking her nothing more than a hot piece of ass when he first met her, but he’d learned his lesson. Under the ink, makeup and dyed hair, piercings and revealing clothing, she was one of the kindest women he’d ever met.

  Sammi grabbed the railing running along the window and hoisted himself to his feet. The muscles in his calves spasmed but held.

  “That’s great,” he said, relief flooding his body. Autumn threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. He breathed a sigh, inhaling the sandalwood scent of her hair. “Thank you. I really mean it.”

  Autumn released him and took a few steps back.

  His mother was going to have an aneurism when he saw her. She wasn’t the ideal Jewish bride. Hell, he was probably going to run the risk of being disowned, or worse. But when life was ending, the important things rose to the top. And if those things in his life chose to wear short jean skirts and tube tops, well, all the crucial bits were covered in public.

  Sammi put the brakes on his thoughts. This was, at its heart, a business relationship. He would by no means expect her to perform wifely duties. Didn’t mean he wouldn’t dream, but having her with him was more important than being in her.

  “I know this is going to sound crass but there are legal documents to sign.” He pulled out his phone and texted his friend three doors down. His oldest friend who also happened to be his lawyer.

  “No, no. You said that before, when you sprang this idea on me. Something about money.” Autumn shook her hair, which for once was mostly a natural shade of brown with pink, blue and purple streaks here and there. Much more subdued than her previous fashion statements, which included bright pink or blue all over. “I don’t want the money. It’s not why I’m agreeing to this.”

  Sammi didn’t doubt her. Autumn would give the cash in her pocket to a bum on the street and go hungry for a week. He’d seen her do it. Still, he was going to need some things in writing, and if she agreed to the full terms, he could ensure she always had money to fall back on. With stipulations, or else she’d buy all the bread in the world to feed hungry ducks.

  “I know, but there are a lot of loose ends to tie up before…before…” He made a gesture with his hands. There were only so many times in a day he could confess his mortality.

  She captured his hand and squeezed. “I get it. Whatever you need.”

  Autumn was an amazing woman.

  He was lucky to have her in his life.

  The doorbell chimed, breaking the moment.

  “That’s Isaac,” he said. He could hear the front door open and close.

  “Sammi?” Isaac Bloom yelled from below.

  “Up here,” he called, his gaze never leaving Autumn’s face. He squeezed her hand back, feeling the rightness. To her, he said, “Thank you. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

  She opened her mouth to reply, but Isaac strode through the entry, briefcase in one hand, a sandwich in the other. Autumn’s mouth closed and she gave Isaac one of her dazzling smiles.

  “Hi, guys.” Isaac glanced between them.

  “Isaac, you’ve met Autumn before.” Sammi gestured to his new fiancée.

  “I have.” Isaac set the briefcase down on the baby grand piano situated in the corner of the space. The two walls of floor-to-ceiling windows provided a luxurious backdrop, while the piano made a lovely table. “Always a pleasure. I believe congratulations are in order?”

  Autumn tugged at her skirt with one hand and accepted Isaac’s with the other. “Yes, thank you very much, I guess. You look—different.”

  Isaac chuckled and dusted crumbs off his lapel. “I think they would frown on swim trunks at the office. Now, I have a two o’clock.” He directed a serious gaze on Sammi. “You sure you want to do this?”

  “Couldn’t be more positive.” Sammi laid his hand against the small of Autumn’s back and gestured toward the piano.

  The stare Isaac leveled at Sammi behind Autumn’s back was full of concern and not a little disapproval. Isaac was Jewish, like Sammi, but their backgrounds differed greatly. Where Sammi’s family were expatriates from Iran, styling themselves Persians, Isaac was a descendant of WWII survivors from France. Their cultures shared the same bedrock, but the soil into which they’d been planted had grown vastly different people.

  Isaac partitioned out three piles of papers and two pens, which he offered to each of them. “What we have here are three copies of the prenuptial agreement. I believe Sammi discussed these with you. Look for the yellow sticky flags where Autumn needs to sign, and the green for where I need Sammi’s signature. Sammi, I also have a new will to reflect the division of assets, as you requested.”

  “Okay, can you go slowly, please? This is, well, it’s a lot.” Autumn tapped the pen against her th
igh.

  “Of course.” Isaac gestured at the first pile, flipping through the document as he went. “This is the prenuptial agreement. It says that whatever belongs to Sammi before the wedding is his after the wedding, and whatever belongs to you remains yours. It’s a precautionary document a lot of young professionals are getting these days.”

  “That’s kind of sad.” Autumn’s face scrunched up. “But I guess this isn’t a real wedding. Makes sense.”

  It isn’t a real wedding.

  She spoke the truth but it still stung.

  Their marriage was going to be a play, a hoax, a fantasy built around his last wish. He’d make the most of it and go out a happy man, because for him, it was real. Autumn might not be the love of his life but he’d grown to care for her. Their unlikely relationship was one of the bright things that had come about in the previous year, and he hoped they could build on that. The last thing he’d want to do though was cause her pain in this agreement, which was why he’d taken care of his hospice arrangements beforehand.

  Sammi shook his head and glanced up to find Isaac studying him over Autumn peering at the documents. She scrawled her looping signature where the flags told her, no further questions asked. He mustered a smile for his closest friend, but knew it fell flat.

  “Very good, thank you.” Isaac shuffled the papers into order and handed them to Sammi. He took the next document, which was much thicker. “This is your joint will, which will be in full effect once you are married. Please sign it as Autumn Schaeffer. This specifies what assets, money and possessions will be divided up and how, upon either of your termination. Basically, everything you own goes to your respective families, save for the one life insurance policy that Sammi here has willed to you as your agreement for this charade.”

  “Isaac,” Sammi snapped.

  Isaac pursed his lips. “Sorry, that was rude. I don’t mean any disrespect.”

  “Someone’s wearing their lawyer pants today,” Autumn quipped.

  “These do make me look rather lawyerly, don’t they?” Isaac dusted imaginary lint from the crease of his pants.