by Caroline Lee
He decided it probably didn’t matter. Now that he was seeing her in person, he knew he’d made the correct choice.
“I wished you a happy birthday.” He wiggled the bouquet he’d picked out for her. “I wasn’t sure what might be an appropriate gift.”
Having set her items on the porch, she pinched the bridge of her nose with her free hand. “I don’t care about the flowers.”
“You should, they’re—”
“You asked me to marry you!”
Kenneth raised one brow. “You mean, you haven’t gotten my emails?”
“Emails? Emails? What in the world— Ohmygosh!” Her jaw dropped. “You’re the one who’s been sending me those Nigerian Prince scammer emails?”
Kenneth straightened his shoulders, pulling the bouquet back against his chest. “I beg your pardon? I’m not a Nigerian Prince scammer.”
Her hand flapped around in the air—Kenneth couldn’t decide if she was waving away his words or a stray fly—as she tried to make words happen.
“You—you— What? Who are you?”
“Kenneth Weston.” He pushed his portfolio under the arm holding the bouquet, and held out his right hand. “I’m surprised you don’t remember.”
“Remember…?” she whispered, then shook her head. “No, I deleted the emails.”
His other brow went up in surprise. “Without even reading my proposition?”
“I… No one offers someone money in an email, for no reason. Who are you? What do you really want?”
“I told you. I’m Kenneth Weston.” He waggled his hand a little, which was still held out for her. “And right now, all I want is a proper introduction.”
She seemed to be in a daze when she tentatively reached out to shake his hand. “Katie—Katie McIver, but I guess you know…”
Her voice trailed off when their hands met, and Kenneth wondered if she felt the same warmth, the same sense of rightness he did. Probably not; he was sure those feelings only came from knowing he’d made the right choice, had picked the right woman. It was a sense of satisfaction of a job well done; nothing more.
But apparently, she was thinking of something else. “How’d you know it was my birthday?”
Almost reluctantly, he dropped her hand, knowing he couldn’t afford to make her more uncomfortable. “I know many things about you, Katie. You think I’d ask just anyone to marry me? I found your profile on Soulmates and had my assistant research your website, blog, and channel. Once I settled on you as my choice, I contacted you. When you didn’t respond—which I now have to assume is because you thought I was a scammer—I drove up here myself to propose in person.”
Her eyes had gotten rounder.
Deciding to press his advantage, he asked again, “So, Katie, will you marry me?”
“What? No! I don’t even know you! How in the— Why do you think I’d marry you?”
He shrugged modestly. “For the one hundred thousand dollars. It’s a significant amount, for only a few months’ commitment from you.”
“Are you rich?”
Was he? Kenneth pushed his jacket out of the way and rested his hand in his trouser pocket as he did calculations in his head. His income, his investments, his investors’ investments… “I’m worth a few billion, I believe.”
Her shock turned to humor, and that incredulous laugh burst out of her once more. “Okay, Mr. Billionaire. Thanks for stopping by and playing. Have a nice life.”
She said the last as she turned for her front door, picked up her purse, then fumbled inside it for something, probably her key.
Kenneth frowned. This was not how he’d intended this meeting to go. “You mean you’ve never heard of me?”
“Listen, mister...” She turned once more, obviously frustrated—at him or the missing key, or both?—and blew a strand of hair out of her face. “I don’t believe your story, your email, or your stupid proposal. So why don’t you go take a long walk off a short—”
“I’m a designer,” he interrupted. “My company is based in Boise, although I grew up around here. My extended family runs a ranch over in Riston.”
When her eyes widened slightly, he realized she might recognize his name from the area, if not his business, and decided to press the advantage. “I’m not sure how much of the emails you read before deleting them, but I am in rather dire need of a wife. Immediately, if not sooner, and the job comes with certain requirements. Nothing untoward, I believe, but they are necessary.”
“Job?” she repeated. Only now, there was wariness in those lovely green eyes of hers, instead of incredulity. “And earlier, you said it was only a few months’ commitment? How could a marriage be that?”
Inside, a pit opened in Kenneth’s stomach. The same way it did whenever he thought of his mother and what was coming. He swallowed. “Truthfully,” he whispered, “it might be much shorter.”
She cocked her head and studied him for a long moment. Whatever she saw on his face must’ve convinced her he wasn’t lying, because she suddenly let out a dramatic sigh. She shoved the gift bag towards him.
“Here. Hold this.” She scrambled in her purse once more and pulled out, not only her keys, but her cell phone too.
As Kenneth sneaked a peek into the gift bag—looks like someone gave her a turquoise scarf and some chocolates—she pushed some buttons on her phone’s screen and held it up to her mouth.
“Hey comma Cait exclamation mark,” she dictated. “Thanks for the birthday wishes period Just wanted to let someone know I’m inviting a total stranger into my house comma and his name is Kenneth Weston and he says he’s a designer from Boise period If I’m murdered comma send the cops after him okay question mark I’ll call you soon exclamation mark.”
Kenneth managed to keep a straight face, but it was hard. She was glaring at him while she voice-texted her friend, and she was just so darn serious.
When she pressed send, he sighed in relief. “I’m not going to murder you, Katie, I promise,” he said quietly. “I just want to talk to you.”
She rolled her eyes. He liked the way everything she did was so animated. Mom would love her.
In that moment, Kenneth was struck with the oddest realization: Being with Katie McIver would bring joy to his life.
Did he need joy? He had a carefully ordered life, one which he liked because he was in command. Did he need more than that? Nothing about Katie seemed careful or controlled or ordered, but being near her was like being swept up in a whirlwind of energy. Of fresh air.
He frowned slightly, not sure if he liked that or not.
“Well, come in, Mr. Billionaire, and ignore the smells. I get used to them, so hopefully you will too.”
Smells? Kenneth blinked as she turned and unlocked the door, then welcomed him in. That’s when he realized what she meant. Thanks to her soap-making, her entire house smelled of…smells. He couldn’t pick out any one aroma in particular, but there were floral scents and earthy scents, though he thought maybe he could pick out the strawberry from her last video.
He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, interested to feel that side of his brain spark to life. While he listened to her bustling around, he allowed the scents to surround him and found himself thinking of the way a grass seed unfurled and burst out of the rich brown soil, aching for the sun. He pictured an ombre gown, shifting from deep sable around the hem, to a hunter green, to pale green, to blue, to white around the neckline. Vertical lines of beads, representing the flow of light and water and energy and the grass itself, reaching up towards the sun diadem the model wore atop her hair.
But when he saw the model’s face, Kenneth’s eyes flew open.
It had been Katie. He’d never imagined a person wearing one of his creations before. He’d only designed and allowed Penny to oversee all the hiring and fittings, or getting measurements from the clients.
How…interesting.
He shut down that side of his brain, not even sure he cared if he lost the design, and focused on what was g
oing on around him.
Just in time for Katie to march up to him, snatch the bouquet out of his hands, and jerk her chin towards the kitchen. “Go sit down, Mr. Billionaire, and start explaining.”
Meekly, he followed her from the foyer into the kitchen, and sat down at the small round table. He placed his portfolio in front of him, then reminded her, “My name is Kenneth.”
She snorted, which shouldn’t be adorable, but somehow was.
“Okay, Kenneth. Start explaining.”
She was filling a vase with water from the sink, and as he watched, she cut off the florist’s paper and began arranging the flowers in the glass. It was a simple vase—not cut crystal or anything—and the roses seemed a little out of place. But then, Kenneth felt out of place here too, at this simple table, in this simple kitchen.
But a voice in the back of his head whispered, This is how Mom and Dad raised you.
He took a deep breath and tried to order his thoughts. He knew what he needed, and just had to find the words to say what he needed to say.
“What I’m proposing is a business arrangement. I’m sorry there’s not more romance to it, but I need a wife for a short time.”
“Why? I think that’s the most important question here. And don’t worry, there’s no way a proposal from some guy I just met would ever be considered romantic, so let’s just move past that.”
Why? Good question. This was the part that always made his stomach knot.
“A few years ago, my aunt and uncle—the ones who used to own River’s End Ranch, actually—renewed their vows and had an epic party. My parents couldn’t come because my mom was having her gall bladder removed.” He swallowed, his gaze dropping to the portfolio in front of him. “During that surgery, they found cancer. It spread to her stomach, then her lymph nodes.”
Katie slipped around the edge of the counter. “I’m so sorry,” she said in a low voice as she slid into the chair across from him. “Did she fight it?”
He grimaced. “She’s still fighting it. Last year, it showed up in her brain, and we haven’t heard her speak, or seen her walk, in almost a year. She’s on her third round of radiation for the brain cancer, which is rougher than we’d ever thought it would be, but chemo for her is, luckily, just a simple pill.”
When he exhaled, he was surprised to feel himself shudder. He scrubbed his hand across his face, and felt his fingers shaking. “She’s dying. We know she’s dying, she knows she’s dying, but she hasn’t quit fighting.”
Katie’s voice was barely a whisper when she asked, “Is she in a lot of pain?”
He met her eyes and told her the truth. “The worst. She’s gotten worse over the last few months, and is now completely confined to bed. We have hospice workers coming in to their house, and I don’t think I ever realized how strong Dad was until all this happened.”
He didn’t think she even realized what she was doing when she reached across the table to cover his hand with hers. “I’m so sorry, Kenneth.”
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he knew she spoke the truth, and that sense of rightness returned. She was caring enough to find sorrow in a stranger’s story.
Mom will approve.
He swallowed. “Mom is strong, and a fighter, but everyone in the family—even my father—agrees she won’t let go until she’s satisfied with me. See, my sister and my twin brother have both gotten married over the last two years, and my brother even has a daughter. They’re happy and settled, and even though I’m successful and happy in my life”—and he was—“Mom refuses to leave until she thinks I’m settled. Married.”
Slowly, Katie withdrew her hand, and he was surprised how much he missed her touch, her warmth.
“So you’re going to lie to her?”
“I’m going to arrange a marriage, one which only has to last a few months. She’ll see it happen, see me happy, and she’ll be able to find peace.” He tapped his index finger on the portfolio. “The details are in here including the prenuptial agreement, the payment plan, and the doctors’ reports. I would require an immediate wedding ceremony, at my mother’s bedside. I would also require a moderately good representation of being in love, enough to fool her.” He tried for a smile, but didn’t quite succeed. “She has brain cancer, true, but she still knows me.”
“And then after?” Katie asked in a small voice.
He exhaled, pleased she hadn’t dismissed him right away. “Once my mother…” His voice caught. “Once she’s gone… I’ll happily let you file for an annulment, using whatever terms you want.”
“An annulment?”
“If the marriage isn’t consummated, which you’ll note I haven’t requested. I don’t think—” Suddenly, his control seemed to leave him. “I mean, it’s not that I don’t want— I think you’re quite lovely, and under normal circumstances, would be quite pleased to consider—”
“Annulment. Got it,” she interrupted, blushing. “Moving on.”
“Right.” Moving on. He took a deep breath. “As I said, I didn’t rush into this. I started with a pool of two hundred profiles.”
“And narrowed it down to me? Why?”
Sitting at her kitchen table, Kenneth knew he couldn’t rely on his charm or confidence. He had to tell her the truth, if he wanted this to work at all. “I…” He took a deep breath. “I believe you and I are not well-suited, honestly. But watching your videos, I… You draw people, Katie. You are so full of life and energy.” And I was intrigued enough to want to experience that. “My mother will love you.”
“I see.”
He could tell from her frown that she was disappointed in his answer. But she covered it by pulling the portfolio out from under his hand. She didn’t open it, but met his eyes once more, the chips of hardness back in her own eyes. She didn’t trust him?
“Well, I’m sorry, Kenneth. But no matter the reasons, I’m not going to marry a man I just met. This pretend marriage might only last a short time, but it’s still a marriage. You can’t just choose someone out of a catalog, or by watching her videos. You have to get to know her, spend time with her, before you propose marriage. Fake or not.”
He felt her slipping away, and did something he’d never had to do before. He scrambled for a solution. “Go on a date with me then!”
“What?”
“A date. That’s what you mean, isn’t it? You’re single and had a profile on a dating website. I’m single and looking for a committed relationship—very committed, though short-term. Isn’t a date how those things usually start?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Yes,” she drawled out. “I suppose so. But usually they don’t start with flowers and a prenuptial agreement.”
“True.” He shrugged. “And I’m sorry to spring it on you. I honestly thought you’d been reading my emails and just not responding.”
“I was deleting them, because you have to realize how scammy they sounded.”
How in the world was he supposed to know what scammy sounded like? Rather than arguing, however, he focused on his end goal. “May I take you to dinner, Katie?”
She tapped one finger on the portfolio and stared thoughtfully at him. Kenneth tamped down the urge to squirm in his chair, a sure sign his control was slipping once again.
Finally, she sighed. “Fine. But I’ll pick the time and the place. And I’ll meet you there, you don’t need to show up here again. And we’ll split the check.”
He raised one brow. “I’m half owner in a multi-billion-dollar fashion line. The least I can do is pay for dinner.”
Her eyes narrowed, but she nodded. “Fine. And don’t think I’m not going to research that too, mister.”
Expecting nothing less, he dropped his chin in agreement. “I suppose it would be too much to ask to have your number?” When she frowned, he hurried on. “Never mind, I’ll just email you. But I do need this date to happen sooner, rather than later. I’m in a time crunch, after all.”
Mom won’t last forever, and if you say no, I have to start inte
rviewing other candidates.
But when Katie rolled her eyes at his choice of words, Kenneth realized he didn’t want to interview other candidates. This might be the most unconventional marriage proposal ever, but he felt in his gut—and in the other half of his brain—that she was the right choice.
“Wednesday,” she blurted out.
When he agreed, she stood up, looking as flustered as he felt, although he’d never show it. She offered her hand again, which was odd, because they’d just been discussing marriage. But he took it, and again, felt that satisfied warmth flow up his arm.
And realized, more than shaking her hand, what he wanted to do was kiss her.
Hmm.
She walked him to the door, and pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. When she waggled it halfheartedly, her smile was a little awkward.
“Guess I better call Cait and tell her you didn’t murder me.”
He allowed himself a smile at her joke. “I’m sorry for surprising you like this.”
“Thanks for the flowers. They’re pretty.”
They were nowhere near nice enough, he realized. But he still nodded. “Happy birthday, Katie.”
And long after her house had disappeared in his rear-view mirror, long after he checked into the Quinn Hotel and Spa, he couldn’t stop thinking of her. The way she smiled and frowned and felt with her whole being. Katie was perfect for his plan.
But as he allowed his control to slip away with each breath and gave the other side of his brain free rein, he wondered about that plan. Katie might be perfect for it…but was she perfect for him as well?
CHAPTER FOUR
When Katie slipped through the door to Quinn's Pub, the restaurant and bar her cousins owned and operated, the place was almost empty. That was no surprise; not only was it a Wednesday, but it was still a little early for the dinner crowd. That was why she’d suggested five-thirty in her response to Kenneth's email.
To say that the encounter on Sunday, her birthday, had been odd, would be an understatement. Katie couldn't think of anything weirder ever happening to her. She and Cait had spent an hour and a half on the phone that evening talking about all sorts of things, including Kenneth's proposition. It was weird to think of it as a proposal, even though that's what it had been really.
