Frowning, he stared at the legal-size tablet and pen she held in her hand. “What are you doing?” he asked curiously when her thumb jabbed the end of the pen and she held it poised above the paper.
“Taking notes. I don’t want to misinterpret anything, and you’ll need something to give the attorney when he draws up the contract between us. I’m not going to sign a prenuptial agreement between us blind, Devil. I’m not stupid.”
He never realized until now how truly distasteful those two words were. Prenuptial. Agreement.
It was like a damn permission slip for divorce.
Again, the realization that Molly was going to walk down the matrimonial aisle to him with one eye on the exit caused his gut to clench. That wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted her excited and happy. He wanted her to be consumed with the wedding mania that seemed to grip most brides.
“You know, you might like being married to me so much that you don’t want a divorce,” he offered slowly. “Having a prenup might not be necessary at all. You don’t think I’d deliberately keep you trapped in a marriage where you weren’t satisfied, do you, Mols?”
Molly laughed. Not one of those delicate ladylike laughs that the women he’d escorted around Atlanta had used with him for the last year. Oh, no, this was a deep, belly laugh -- the kind that reddened her face and caused her breasts to bounce temptingly against her chest.
He would have enjoyed watching her laugh like that if it hadn’t been for the small inconvenience of knowing that she was laughing at him, not with him. “It’s not that funny,” he griped, tightening his fingers around the tumbler of scotch he held.
“Oh, trust me, it is,” Molly giggled, wiping her eyes. “To answer your question, though, yes, Devil. I think you would do whatever it took to get what you want. You keep forgetting that I know you. When you want something, things like boundaries and limits sort of fall by the side of the road. A prenuptial agreement is entirely necessary. Sort of like food and water, I can’t live without it. No contract, no me, Dev.”
“Fine,” he grumbled, well aware that losing some battles might be necessary if he was going to win the war. “You might note, however, that I’m a little more experienced in the wheeling and dealing department, sweetheart. You sure you want to take me on here?”
“I came prepared to play hardball,” Molly warned him, her shoulders straightening in defiance. “I’m not a pushover and I won’t be steamrolled. You need me, Devil, not the other way around. Based on that, it stands to reason that you will be the party granting concessions here, not me.”
Well, Devil thought with amusement, the girl came to play. Her determined gaze never once wavered from his face as she waited for him to speak. Inclining his head slightly, he yielded gracefully. “You do seem to have me there,” he offered magnanimously. “I do need you.”
“I still find that debatable,” Molly grumbled under her breath. “If you ask me…”
“I didn’t,” Devil interjected pleasantly.
“…you could still find someone much more appropriate. Given your solid heterosexual nature, I feel the need to revert to my original argument one more time. We could look at the pack of groupies that you’ve accumulated in the past year and find a couple of candidates that would qualify. Are you sure…”
“I’m marrying you, Molly,” Devil insisted firmly. “Only you.”
“Fine,” Molly returned with a sigh. “I simply wanted to offer you one last chance…”
“Don’t need it. Don’t want it. Not taking it,” Devil stated forcefully, taking another gulp of the expensive scotch in his glass. “Ready to move on yet?”
Molly gave him a long look. He merely smiled back at her, unwilling to give her so much as an inch. She was the woman he wanted. Too bad he’d decided to be noble last night or she’d already be convinced of it.
“I suppose moving on is the only option I’m left with here,” she finally acknowledged quietly. “Please remember in the months to come that I did give you one last chance to choose one of your tarts, Devil.”
“Molly, I don’t have any tarts,” Devil groaned, running a hand down her face. Hell, at least when he’d been assumed to be gay, she hadn’t acted like walking down the aisle was synonymous with the long, green mile. He knew without asking that she was back to her former stance of seeing him as nothing but a horny bastard that used and discarded women for his own pleasure. The disbelieving glare she shot him only further confirmed what he already knew.
“Devil, if you want me to sign my name on any contract or walk my happy ass down any aisle in Atlanta or the surrounding area, you will not lie to me again. Consider it a deal breaker if you must, but don’t you dare tell me another lie.” Molly’s voice seethed with barely suppressed rage.
“You know, I think we tried having this discussion once before, and it ended with me being gay,” Devil reminisced, watching as her cheeks reddened. “Let’s try it again. I dated several ladies this year.”
“Yes, seventeen of them at last count,” Molly supplied readily. “When you reach twenty bouquets at the florist, the twenty-first is free. I hope you get a similar deal with the jeweler you use. It really would be economical for you. Of course, since you’re as rich as Croesus, I guess it doesn’t matter. I’m sure your accountants figure a way to write those expenses right on off.”
“Are you done yet, smartass?” Devil asked irritably. “I don’t write off gifts. And that’s all they were. Not fees for services rendered. Gifts.”
“Oh, yes.” Molly nodded helpfully, ignoring the twinge of doubt she suddenly felt. “Gifts. Women never get confused when a man gifts them with jewelry.”
Shifting uncomfortably as her barb found its mark, Devil had the grace to look away. “I don’t guess I ever looked at it that way. I was merely offering those ladies a small thank you for their company. And that’s all they were, Mols. A willing dinner companion with which to pass the time.”
“Yeah.” Molly smirked as she rolled her eyes. “Cleopatra was a real conversationalist.”
“Cleopatra, as you call her, had aspirations of becoming more than what she was. And for the record, all she was – all any of them were – was a pleasant diversion.”
The look of sheer disbelief in Molly’s eyes had him suddenly wanting to scream.
“They were! I didn’t sleep with a single one of them,” Devil added defensively. “I couldn’t.”
“Little Willy won’t wake?” Molly asked with feigned sympathy. “No wonder Cleopatra was so agitated all the time. The poor woman was as sexually frustrated as a bitch in heat with no stud around to take care of the job. They do make pills for that, Devil. You want me to make a note to look in to that for you?” she questioned drolly.
Seeing Molly’s interested gaze drop to his crotch, he moved a hand over his groin. “My dick is not little, and you felt it wake up yourself last night!”
“So touchy,” Molly clucked, holding up her hands as his eyes glittered ominously. “I’m only trying to help. I don’t care who you’ve slept with, Devil. It isn’t my business. Suit yourself.”
Oh, he thought angrily, he’d like to suit himself up and sink into her. Maybe once he’d made desperate love to her a few dozen times, she’d realize that, sexually speaking, he had spent the last year being as frustrated as his intended bride. Tamping down on his agitation, he inhaled deeply and tried to calm the beast pacing inside him.
Right now, he had a deal to lock down.
“Molly, I’ll say this one more time. I’ve lived like a monk for about thirteen months. Believe me or don’t, that’s your choice, but ask yourself one question. When, in the history of knowing me, have you ever caught me in a lie?” He let his question hang in the air and watched her fidget nervously in her seat, her forehead wrinkled in concentration. “Yeah,” he said a full minute later, “That’s kind of what I thought. Now, if you’re done casting dispersions on my upstanding character…”
“I wouldn’t get carried away with the nobility c
rap, Devil,” Molly muttered unhappily. “Pious really doesn’t work on you.”
He tried hard not to smile at the petulant tone of her voice. “You’re confusing piety with righteousness, Mols, but that’s neither here nor there. I think you wanted to talk terms. Tell me, Molly. What’s your first stipulation?”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Damn it, Devil Delancy was doing what he always did. Mercilessly wrestling control from his competition and taking it for himself. Since she was his opponent this time and the deal on the table was for her life, she wasn’t real thrilled when he smirked confidently at her. The bastard knew he’d stunned her with his honesty. And while she’d doubted him last night… and this morning… and maybe even when she’d arrived here tonight...she recognized now that for whatever reason, Devil had chosen not to become intimate with any of his lady friends in the last year.
He didn’t outright lie. Ever.
It was like he could read the panic in her eyes. Hell, he probably could. Devil was quite adept at cutting through the bullshit and getting to the heart of the matter. Only, today, the heart in question was hers, and she refused to casually hand it over into his care. Nuh uh.
He might not lie, but he could be as manipulative as Satan himself.
The problem was, though, that she could see he wanted her. Maybe she was a novelty… the one woman who didn’t make it a habit to fall at his feet and worship him. That had to be it. She was a challenge to him – a complicated puzzle he couldn’t quite solve.
Too freaking bad.
She wasn’t interested in being his diversion. The only reason she was even agreeing to this crazy plan was Nana. The sweet, old woman deserved to die in peace, free from the worry that her insufferable grandson would never find lasting love. If she could help ease his grandmother’s suffering, then she was duty bound to assist him in this crazy plan he had.
But that was it.
She was going to be a wife for hire, not his personal sex kitten. Her libido whined at that thought, but she steadfastly ignored the cries. A girl had her standards, after all.
“Molly?” Devil smiled faintly. “You wanted to talk about the terms of our marriage, didn’t you?” he reminded her dryly.
“Damn right,” she grumbled under her breath, straightening her shoulders as she pulled her notebook closer. “I guess the first thing we need to discuss is the length of this so-called marriage.”
“Oh, it won’t be a so-called marriage, Molly,” Devil corrected evenly. “It’s going to be an actual marriage. So real that anyone who looks our way will envy how happy and devoted to each other we are. Otherwise, all this is pointless. We’ll never be able to pass muster with Nana.”
He had a point. Nana was nothing if not a woman that possessed a keen insight into those around her, especially those she truly loved. She was crafty like that. Since Nana was able to spot a lie at ten paces, Molly knew she’d need to be at the top of her game to keep the elderly lady fooled. The problem was that acting like she was in love with Devil would feel all too natural. She was falling in love with the infuriating jerk. Why such a horrible, ridiculous, unnatural thing was happening, she couldn’t say. But, facts were facts, and she was falling under his spell faster than she’d ever believed possible. Already she could feel her heart fluttering and panties dampening under the weight of his gaze. That had to stop. She needed to get control of both her hormones AND her heart. “Fine,” Molly murmured. “I’ll be the very model of modern day wife… for a pre-defined time period,” she added pointedly.
“What’s your ideal time frame, Ramsey?” he asked, last-naming her as he would any adversary in a business deal.
“Three months,” Molly answered firmly. She didn’t want to extend her misery any longer than necessary. They’d get married, make Nana happy, and develop irreconcilable differences. It happened all the time. No harm, no foul. Just a horrible mistake that two people made and regretted. They could pull that off, couldn’t they?
“No.”
“Huh?” Molly grunted, jerking her head up from the pad she held in her lap.
“I said no. Three months? Are you kidding? I spoke to Nana this morning. She said that her doctors are saying she could have a year left with the proper care and rest. I propose eighteen months. If Nana should live longer, I want the time period opened up to renegotiation.”
While she was overjoyed to hear that the doctors had offered Nana more time, she couldn’t believe his suggestion. She wasn’t sure how she was going to survive a month with him, let alone a year. He was asking for a year and a half? Married to the Devil? No freaking way. “You’re insane,” she said with a shake of her head. “You want me to sign over a year and a half of my life to you? No!”
“You’d rather put Nana through the drama of a divorce during her last days? Something like that could send her to an early grave, Molly. You do realize what that kind of disappointment would do to her, don’t you?” Devil asked, twisting the metaphorical knife in Molly’s chest.
Opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water, Molly struggled to find a rational argument with what he said. “Damn it!” she cursed, slapping her hand against the pad on which she’d made notes. “Devil, that isn’t fair!”
“No, but it is true, isn’t it?” he countered, raising a dark eyebrow as he stared steadily at her, not backing down a single inch.
Oh, he’d brought his A game, Molly silently acknowledged. He knew just what her weaknesses were and wasn’t afraid to exploit them. “Twelve months,” Molly ground out. “And if Nana, God forbid, doesn’t make it that long, we reassess thirty days after she passes.”
“And if she’s still with us at the twelve month anniversary?” Devil asked, his eyes boring into hers.
“We reassess again. I’ll agree to remain married to you until thirty days after Nana’s passing,” Molly bargained, despising the cold, clinical way they were addressing the situation. It all seemed so harsh. But it was necessary, she reminded herself sternly. When you made a deal with the Devil, a girl had to make sure she covered all the bases.
Devil nodded slightly. “Accepted.”
Glancing at him, she could tell by the set of his face that he wasn’t entirely pleased with her conditions, but he was wise enough not to push his luck. Making a note on her legal pad, she swallowed.
“We should talk about your compensation next,” Devil stated calmly while Molly’s face was averted. “How much do you want, Molly? And how do you want it? Hard cash? Real estate? Maybe a funky little art gallery in Five Points?”
“What?” Molly mumbled absently as she continued scribbling about the proposed time frame of their marriage. She was used to tuning Devil out of her thoughts when she was working on a task. If what he had to say was truly important, he’d repeat himself until she was really listening.
“Name your price, Mols, and don’t devalue yourself. That would piss me off,” Devil warned, watching her face carefully as the meaning behind his words sank into her.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“I’m sorry,” Molly bit out tightly as she shifted on the sofa to face him. “Are you implying that you intend to pay me like a whore you bought on the corner, Devil?”
Okay, now that’s the reaction that he’d been hoping to get, he thought with no small amount of satisfaction.
“I don’t want one red cent from you,” Molly barreled on, punctuating each word with a sharp slap of her legal pad against his chest. “How dare you! I’m doing this for Nana! Not for some twisted kind of pay day! What kind of woman do I look like to you?”
“Ow!” Devil yelped when the edge of her legal pad scraped against his sternum. Grabbing her makeshift weapon, he tugged it out of her hand. “I think I’ll hold onto that for now.”
“I can’t believe you. Do I look like one of the mercenary witches you’ve been living it up with for a year, Dev? I don’t want anything from you. Certainly not your money. How dare you insult me like that! Believe me, I plan on making you pay f
or this, but it can’t be done with a blank check, asshole. I’ll be collecting my compensation in the form of blood and tears. YOURS!”
Staring into her flushed face, he decided that she looked entirely capable of drawing his blood. She was livid. Capturing her slim wrist when she raised her arm to hit him, Devil shook his head. “Nuh uh,” he grunted, leaning forward to pin her smaller body against the arm of the couch, “You get to give me one shiner a week, woman, and you’ve already reached your quota. Use your big girl words like your momma taught you, sweetheart.”
“Asshole,” Molly spat, straining beneath him. “How’s that for grown-up vocabulary?” she barked, her eyes flashing as he chuckled at her.
Laughing, Devil’s eyes twinkled. “I’m not sure how your mother would feel about that unsanitized language, Molly. She might wash out that dirty mouth with soap.” Molly glared and bucked beneath him. Shifting quickly so that her knee missed his groin, he settled more heavily on top of her. “Not nice, darlin’,” he chided, tightening his grip around her wrists. “Settle down and I’ll explain.”
“You know what? You don’t need to explain. I’ll just take the roses and jewelry all your other sluts receive as a parting gift,” she growled, twisting away from him. “After all, if you’re going to treat me like a paid whore, I ought to receive the same compensation they got.”
Devil’s nostrils flared and he saw red. “I have never treated any woman like a whore, Molly. And I’ve certainly never treated you like that. Unless you’d like to see how I treat irritatingly spoiled brats, I suggest you stop talking,” he retorted angrily. Eyes narrowing as she opened her mouth to argue, he offered her a calculating smile. “I warned you,” he murmured silkily before capturing her lips with his. Swallowing her surprised gasp, he took advantage of her parted lips, slipping his tongue inside her mouth to lash out at hers. He kissed her with a single-minded, ruthless passion, nipping her lower lip when she would have turned her face away.
Nibbling at her lips, he felt her body soften beneath his. Groaning as her tongue slowly began to tangle with his, he released one of her wrists to bury his hand in her hair, tilting her head as he deepened the kiss. He wasn’t sure how long he sipped at her mouth, but he groaned again as her body squirmed beneath his, rubbing against him like a needy kitten seeking affection.
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