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A Contract Seduction

Page 4

by Janice Maynard


  Lisette had her back to him, grating fresh parmesan cheese for their spaghetti. He saw her go still. But she didn’t turn around. “No,” she said quietly. “That was a blind date my friend Rebekah set up.”

  “Rebekah in Purchasing?”

  “Yes.”

  He drummed his fingers on the table. “Sorry,” he muttered. “None of my business.”

  She turned to face him with an unreadable expression on her face. “This is not going to work unless we can both speak freely. Under the circumstances, I understand that you want to know more about my life. If I’m going to help you, you have to trust me.”

  “I do trust you,” he said quickly. “Completely.”

  “But?” Her half smile called him out.

  Clearly she was reading his ambivalence. “I think you were right about the possibility of people resenting you if I suddenly give you carte blanche to make decisions.”

  She nodded slowly. “It will look odd. Does this mean you’ve changed your mind?”

  He stood to pace restlessly, shoving his hands in his pockets. Second-guessing himself was a novelty he didn’t enjoy. In almost any situation he was able to cut through to the center of a matter and make decisions...good decisions. But that was business.

  This new scenario with Lisette comprised a hundred more layers of uncertainty. “I haven’t changed my mind,” he said. “But I’ve had more time to think about this, and I’ve come to a few conclusions.”

  “Sounds important,” she said lightly, pouring each of them a glass of iced tea.

  “It will keep until after we’ve eaten. I always think better on a full stomach. And have your wine,” he said. “You don’t have to abstain on my account.”

  She shook her head. “I happen to love iced tea. Mine is very good, if I do say so myself. My grandmother taught my mom, and my mom taught me.”

  “I know very little about your family,” he said.

  “Not much to tell.” Lisette set white porcelain salad bowls, dressing, and the two plates of steaming pasta on the table, along with a smaller plate of fragrant garlic bread. Jonathan held out her chair as she seated herself. Then he took the spot opposite her.

  “Is your father still living?” he asked. “I don’t remember hearing you say.”

  She shook her head. “My mother never spoke of him. As a kid I fantasized that he was a secret agent or a prince in some foreign country. Unfortunately, I think the truth is that he just didn’t care and walked away.”

  “Were they married?”

  “I believe so. There’s a name on my birth certificate. And it’s the same last name as my mom’s and mine. But she could have made him up.”

  “Haven’t you ever wanted to track him down?”

  Lisette grimaced, a bite of spaghetti halfway to her mouth. She set the fork on her plate and sighed. “According to all the books and movies, I should. Want to, I mean. But the truth is, I don’t.”

  “Why not?” Jonathan had cleared most of his plate. He was starving, and the meal was amazing. Lisette had barely picked at her spaghetti. Was it because she was nervous? He hoped not. He wanted things between them to be comfortable. Easy.

  Maybe that was an impossible task under the circumstances.

  She curled her fingers around the stem of her crystal goblet and wrinkled her nose. “My mom did the best she could for us, but I was a latchkey kid from the time I was eight or nine. Our house wasn’t like my friends’ houses. It was quiet and empty and lonely. I decided that I would make my own home someday and fill it with color and sound and happiness.”

  Jonathan nodded and smiled. “You’re off to a good start.” Inwardly he groaned. His needs and wants were going to be in direct opposition to hers. Was it fair of him to ask so much when he could give her so little in return?

  “Thank you.” Her cheeks were flushed. It could be the heat from the kitchen, or perhaps she was as aware of him as he was of her. Before today, he would have said that he knew Lisette Stanhope extremely well. Now, here in her cozy, peaceful home, he was finding out how wrong he could be.

  Away from the office, she seemed a different person to him. Younger, more vulnerable. Again his conscience pricked him. Lisette was conscientious and compassionate. Last year when one of their employees suffered an extended illness, Lisette was the one who organized meals for the family.

  She had been a devoted daughter and caretaker to her mother for a decade or more. Jonathan didn’t want to be another burden she had to carry. To be honest, he didn’t want to be anyone’s burden, but especially not hers.

  If they were to enter into this arrangement, the benefits couldn’t and shouldn’t be one-sided. It was becoming more and more clear to him that there was only one real way for this new relationship to work. A drastic step that would change everything.

  As the silence between them lengthened, Lisette finished most of her meal. Jonathan had a second helping of everything.

  “Thank you for cooking,” he said. Something about the simple, hearty meal fed his soul as well as his stomach. Food was one of a man’s appetites. Sexual intimacy was another. The fact that he felt jittery and hungry for his hostess was as much a shock to him as what he was about to say.

  They cleared the table together. Lisette started the dishwasher, and then she touched him lightly on the shoulder. “Let’s go into the living room. We’ll be more comfortable.”

  The few steps between the two rooms did not give him time enough to prepare a speech.

  Lisette kicked off her shoes and settled onto one end of the sofa, her legs curled beneath her. “Well,” she said. “Don’t keep me in suspense. If I’m not to have a promotion, what’s your answer?”

  He sucked in a breath, feeling more rattled and off his game than he had since the day of his diagnosis. “I think you should marry me.”

  Four

  Lisette blinked, trying not to react. “Um...” Maybe the brain tumor had begun to affect his reasoning. Or maybe she had misheard him.

  Jonathan witnessed her shock despite her efforts to play it cool. His neck heated beneath his collar. “I’m not crazy,” he muttered. “But it would solve a lot of problems. No one at the office would complain if I make my wife my partner. We could work side by side. This is the Tarleton empire. For you to pull off the kinds of decisions you’ll be required to make, you need to be family. It’s the perfect solution.”

  Except it wasn’t. The mere fact that her emotions went all gooey at the prospect meant she would be seriously crazy to accept such an offer. She wanted him. She wanted to be married, but not like this.

  When she had attempted to turn in her resignation last week, she had been imagining a future with an ordinary guy. Maybe a teacher...or an accountant like herself. Two babies. Perhaps three. A small house with toys in the yard and even the proverbial picket fence. Everything she had missed growing up when it was only a single mom and a lonely daughter.

  Now fate, or a deity with a messed-up sense of humor, was offering her a skewed version of that dream. “I don’t know what to say.” It was true. Jonathan had left her speechless.

  He sprawled in an armchair, looking masculine and gorgeous and moody. “Say you’ll think about it.”

  She chose her words carefully. “It seems like an extreme measure.”

  “But you have to admit it’s a practical solution.”

  “Where would we live?”

  “Out at the beach house.”

  “But I just bought this place, and I love it.”

  “You could sublet it. Or leave it empty and come here when you need a break from...” He waved a hand. “I’ll pay for whatever you need. Money won’t be a problem. We’ll have a prenup that outlines everything you’re entitled to when I’m gone.”

  He was talking about his illness. Addressing the elephant in the room. She didn’t want to think about tha
t.

  Other issues weighed as heavily. “I’ll be hated and vilified,” she said. “When the truth comes out. Your family and your friends and your employees will think I deliberately married a dying man to get my hands on a chunk of Tarleton Shipping.”

  “It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks,” he said, his tone truculent. “Our private arrangement is no one else’s business. Dad won’t question anything, and Mazie isn’t going to squawk. She has plenty of her own assets, not to mention the fact that she married J.B.”

  Jonathan’s best friend and his sister had gotten engaged last Christmas. Everyone assumed the two of them would plan a huge Charleston wedding, but the couple had surprised everyone by jetting off to Vegas in the middle of January and tying the knot in a private ceremony. The groom’s mother had thrown the party of all parties when they returned.

  Lisette had been invited and had attended despite the fact that she hadn’t been in a celebratory mood. The gray days of January had exacerbated her grief. The new year had stretched ahead of her, long and lonely.

  In the end, the party had done her good. It was fun, for one thing. It had warmed her heart to see Jonathan’s sister so happy and in love with her rakish husband. J.B. as he was called, Jackson Beauregard Vaughan, was a real estate tycoon. He and the Tarletons had been friends since they were all children. Only Hartley Tarleton had been missing from the festivities.

  Jonathan, himself, had been resplendent that night in a conservative tailored tux. He’d had women flocking around him like so many chattering mynah birds. That had been Lisette’s first inkling that she was going to have to either get over her desperate crush somehow or move entirely out of his orbit and find herself a new life.

  Now he stared at her so intently her nipples beaded beneath her top. She crossed her arms over her chest. “You can’t just toss this at me and expect an instant answer.”

  His smile was unexpectedly sweet. “I know you, Lizzy. You’re a lot like me. Pragmatic. Decisive. You don’t dither. I’ve always admired that about you.”

  “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

  He chuckled. “Admit it. My plan makes perfect sense.”

  Lisette chewed the inside of her lip, far more tempted than she should have been. He hadn’t mentioned marriage between them in any context but work. Yet there were a lot of hours in the day when the two of them wouldn’t be working. How did he foresee that part of their relationship unfolding?

  Was this to be a marriage of convenience? A paper commitment that she would look after him and have his back when he asked for assistance? She didn’t require a sham marriage to do that. Jonathan was in a very bad situation, and he needed her help. She would give it gladly.

  “There must be another way,” she said.

  “Why make it more difficult than it has to be? I’m asking a hell of a lot, I realize. And to be honest, it will soothe my conscience to know that you’ll have financial security when I’m gone. It’s the very least I can do considering what you’re offering me in return.”

  “I don’t want your money, Jonathan.”

  “Maybe not, but that’s my condition. Life won’t be easy for whoever takes over Tarleton Shipping. It will either have to be you or Mazie, and I’m almost a hundred percent certain she doesn’t want that responsibility.”

  “Neither do I,” Lisette protested. “I’ll help you all I can in the short term. Because we’re friends and you’re a decent human being who is in a terrible spot. But I won’t profit from simply doing the right thing.”

  “So what happens to the business when I’m no longer able to look after things?”

  “I don’t know, Jonathan. I really don’t. Maybe we both need to give this some thought before we make any irrevocable decisions.”

  “I’d like to work on the legal documents soon.” A bleak look flashed across his face. “The uncertainty of my condition compels me to get things nailed down as quickly as possible.”

  “How long do I have to decide?”

  He shrugged. “Forty-eight hours?”

  It wasn’t much time. She inhaled, her fingers digging into the arm of the sofa. “And what about the physical side of our relationship?”

  For the barest of moments, his jaw dropped. Perhaps her candor had shocked him. But he recovered quickly. His gaze was calm though his eyes flashed hot. “That will, of course, be entirely up to you. I don’t think it’s the kind of question that should be addressed in a prenup. You’re a very appealing woman. We’ll be living together. Our arrangement can be platonic or physical. I won’t ask anything of you that you aren’t prepared to give.”

  The intimation was unmistakable. He would be interested in taking her to bed. Hearing such a thing destroyed Lisette’s ability to think clearly. It had never occurred to her that she was the kind of woman to attract Jonathan’s attention under any circumstances. To have him address the subject so matter-of-factly stunned her.

  “Very well,” she said slowly. “I agree to think about all this for forty-eight hours.”

  Jonathan’s nod was terse. “I’ll get my lawyer started on the nuts and bolts of the contract. You should be considering anything specific you want included in the document.”

  “Like what? Movie-star demands? Orange M&M’s on my desk every morning? Water from the French Alps? A personal assistant?”

  At last Jonathan ceased wearing a path in her rug and sat down at the opposite end of the sofa with a weary grin. “Very funny. But the details are important to me. If we go through with this, your whole life will change. Any personal dreams you have will need to be put on hold. It hardly seems fair, but I’m desperate enough to ask.”

  He was right. The truth was sobering. She would be giving him six months of her life or—if Jonathan were lucky—maybe a year.

  All the reasons she had wanted to resign still existed. Jonathan was almost thirty-two years old. She was thirty-seven. Far too old for him under normal circumstances, at least by her reckoning. Over the long years of caring for her mother, Lisette had missed out on all sorts of coming-of-age experiences. The carefree vacations abroad. The fun and frivolity of a weekend social life. Casual dating. She didn’t regret it. She would never regret the time she had spent with her mother. And she would do it again in a heartbeat.

  When you loved someone, you gave whatever the situation demanded in order to make that person a priority. Jonathan had chosen her because he thought she could be objective. It was her task to prove him right. She would make the sacrifice gladly, but he could never know why. He could never know she loved him. That knowledge would only add to the burden he carried.

  It seemed so damned unfair to become part of his life and yet still never have him. Not completely. Her throat was thick with tears.

  She sensed he needed assurance that she was taking him seriously. “Don’t worry, Jonathan. I’ll obsess about this day and night, and then I’ll settle in for the long haul. I’m not flippant about the situation, honestly.”

  “Fair enough.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ve got work to do, so I’d better head back to the beach.”

  “It’s the weekend. Don’t you think you need to rest?”

  “I’ll rest when I’m dead.”

  It was the kind of comedic one-liner workaholics used all the time, a way to describe and justify a manic schedule. Today Lisette found no humor in it.

  She stood when he did, a good six feet of real estate between them.

  Jonathan rolled his neck and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Thanks for the meal. It was fabulous.”

  Suddenly, she knew that she couldn’t enter into this unconventional agreement without at least a few answers to questions that were...sensitive. She and Jonathan were going to be very close. Especially as the months passed and he leaned on her more and more.

  She was tired of living like a nun...tired of denying she was a woman wit
h needs and desires like everyone else. She wanted Jonathan, had wanted him for so very long. If his oblique remarks were revealing, he wanted her, too.

  Before she could lose her nerve, she went to him and put her hands on his shoulders. Though she felt him tense, she continued her experiment.

  “Will you kiss me, Jonathan?” she whispered, her throat tight. “I need to know if we have a spark, or if I’m only going to be your stand-in at work and possibly your nurse. I’m not making light of this. It’s important to me.”

  His eyes could range from cognac to dark chocolate. Right now they were lit with a flame that took her breath and made her knees go weak. “As you wish,” he said quietly.

  Carefully he cupped her neck in two big hands and tilted her head slightly to one side. After that—as their breath mingled—he found her mouth and covered her lips with his. “Oh...” Her startled exclamation was involuntary. At first, the kiss was awkward and slightly embarrassing. He was her boss. She was his assistant. Before today, she would never have dreamed of crossing this line.

  His kiss was firm and perfect, but her body was rigid, uncertain.

  Jonathan made a sound low in his throat...a groan. A ragged sigh. “Relax, Lisette.”

  She tried, she really did. Her universe was cartwheeling out of control. He dragged her closer, deepening the kiss, pressing her to him in such a way that she couldn’t miss the evidence of his body responding to hers. His sex rose and thrust against her abdomen.

  Pulling back was the correct thing to do. Breaking the connection. Reclaiming sanity.

  Neither of them chose to be wise.

  Jonathan tugged the tie from her ponytail and sifted his fingers through the thickness of her shoulder-length hair. When his fingers brushed the nape of her neck, she shivered.

  She was within seconds of pulling him down onto her sofa when her dormant sense of self-preservation shouted a warning. This wasn’t a fairy tale. She was about to travel a road that ended in disaster.

 

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