“You should feel good,” he says. “I would. Congratulations. It has become an even deeper mystery why you would need a man like me. You can now add rich to your long list of attractive qualities.”
“That’s the thing,” I say, still unsure how to explain the rest. “My father was a rather chauvinistic man. He wanted a male heir, desperately. His many attempts all failed to produce one. He was left with me and, as one last insult, he included an odd provision in the will.”
Lukas leans in, fairly captivated. “Odd, is it?”
“I think so. It states that I will not receive a penny of my inheritance until I turn twenty-eight three years from now, unless…”
“Unless?”
“I marry.” Okay, it’s out there. I wonder how long until he arrives at his proposed role in this strange story.
“Wait,” he says, almost jumping off the bench and into the water. “This just got crazy. Are you saying you want me to be your husband?”
Lukas has a quick mind. That could be dangerous. “Not so fast,” I say, unable to hide a smile of satisfaction. “I’d need you to understand what would be expected and I also must be convinced of your competency to complete the unique arrangement. Of course, it wouldn’t be a real marriage.”
“Not a real marriage?”
“No. We would divorce once I have secured the money. I hope it would all be over in little more than a year.”
Lukas Dupree lowers his gaze all the way down to his shoes before he lifts his blue-green eyes to wink at me. “So, no sex would be involved?”
I’m pretty sure my cheeks betray a blush. Why would he ask that? Is he relieved? Did he think I was a sex-hungry debutante lusting after his flesh?
Calm down, Nora, he’s obviously teasing. “I can assure you no sex would be involved,” I say as calmly as humanly possible.
“And so we would both have to be basically celibate? One year is a long time, you know. Sleeping with others would be a risk for your purposes. Am I wrong? How would that all work?”
Damn, I haven’t even thought that far into it. “This is just an idea. I’d have to find the right guy,” I say slowly. “I’d have to give some thought to those things. I’m not even sure I’m going to do this. Especially if I can’t find someone I feel comfortable with.”
“I don’t think you and your perspective hubby should sleep with others,” he repeats. “The marriage could be contended and your plans blown apart.”
My heartbeat accelerates. He’s seducing me, I know. And it’s working. This is not good at all. I would need to be able to control things if I’m going to make this work.
“I know you’re used to being in charge of things on these so-called dates. You’ll have to stop that immediately, Lukas, or I will not consider you,” I explain, almost angrily. “I am not to be trifled with. I find it offensive.”
“Who said I would consider this at all?” he asks. “That assumption is quite offensive as well.”
This is not working.
“Maybe we should forget the whole thing,” I say.
“Any other escort will fleece you, Nora,” he offers. “The whole idea is a disaster waiting to happen.”
I’m so angry right now, I’d like to punch his rock hard chest.
“I suggest you wait,” he says. “Three years is not a long time.”
“You said any other escort would fleece me,” I say. “Does that include you? Would you fleece me?”
He opens his eyes wide and turns away. “It’s just three years. Wait.”
“You didn’t answer.”
“I would not fleece you, Nora,” he says.
Yeah, right. “You were trying to seduce me a moment ago. You’re full of shit. Excuse my language.”
“I was not trying to seduce you,” he says. “I was being practical. I don’t know about you, but I need to fuck once in a while. And why not fuck my wife, if we’re going to be stuck together for a year?”
I must be red all over. And more. My skin feels electrified. “I don’t know what to say. You’re very frank. We’ve only just met. And you have a strange sense of practicality. Very strange.”
“My honesty is what you would not get from others,” he says, rising to his feet. He takes my hand for a second time.
“What are you doing?” I say with my suddenly parched lips.
“Whatever you want,” he says. “I’m all yours for the day. Remember?”
“I thought we were done.”
“You and me? No. We’re not done. We’ve only just met. You said so yourself. The day is lovely. Forget about everything else. You’re with Lukas Dupree now. Relax. Breathe. My customers must always enjoy themselves. It’s a principle I have and mean to deliver.”
“I don’t want sex,” I remind him. “I just wanted to present the offer and I have done that.”
“Sex is not the only way to enjoy a day,” he says. “Please, spend the day with me. You’ve paid up front. Let’s have fun. And who said I want to have sex with you? I’m not a prostitute. I have free will.”
“Fine,” I say, not knowing how else to respond.
“And I hope you have given up on that idea to marry,” he says. “No one is to be trusted in that way.”
I pull his hand to turn him toward me. I stare up into his eyes. “You’re right, but I want you to keep an open mind. You would be handsomely compensated for your troubles once I get my inheritance.”
“You’re still considering me?”
“I am.” I feel like a dwarf standing next to him. He’s so lean and tall.
“I officially declare that a horrible idea, okay?”
“Okay,” I say, uncertainly.
“I’m serious. I want that on the record,” he insists.
“It’s on the record, Lukas,” I say. “The one we obviously could never keep or mention. The imaginary one in your brain. On the record. Okay?”
He laughs. “Good, because it is one terrible idea,” he says, squeezing my hand. I forgot our hands have been locked the whole time.
“But you will still consider it?”
He shakes his head, laughs. “It’s not the worst offer I’ve ever received.”
This is all too good to be true, all the way down to my tingly belly. If he’s acting, he’s brilliant at it. Maybe that’s what the job will require.
I dig into my purse to get to my keys. I can’t spend another moment with him without giving away my conflicting thoughts. “Would it be okay to contact you again?” I ask. “We both have much to think about.”
“Only if you had a good time today, Miss McRae,” he says.
Lukas tilts his head to touch my forehead with his warm lips. I tremble in ways I can’t quite understand.
“I had a good time, Lukas,” I say softly. It feels like a confession.
“Then you can call again,” he says, equally quiet. “I will not allow a single moment between us to be forgettable.”
There’s a chance I might throw myself at him. He’s like a drug, but he leaves before I can react. I watch him walk away, hands in pockets, with a strong, confident swagger like every element in the universe welcomes each of his graceful, athletic strides.
Seated in my car, I wait for my heart to calm before I start the engine. I feel changed and lost at the same time. I try to remind myself this was Jules’ idea and not mine. I don’t have to follow through with this crazy plan.
Lukas Dupree was not the plan at all. Getting any closer to him would be playing with fire. Fire burns. And I’ve been burnt. Too many times to count.
Chapter 3
Nora
This is happening. Really. Lukas waits out in the lobby for my BFF Julia to call him into the office so we can sign the prenuptial agreement she’s prepared.
When my father died broke and humiliated, the last thing I could have imagined was that he had a fortune hidden offshore in a handful of shell corporations created by my grandfather decades ago.
Like father like son, I guess. The apple
didn’t fall far from the tree. The accumulation of wealth was valued above all things in my father’s family. A man’s worth was literally calculated in dollars and cents. Sad.
In hindsight, I should not have been so shocked at the reading of my father’s will (which I didn’t even know existed for a year after he was killed). My eyes glazed over the outrageous numbers printed everywhere. Besides the twelve million in the various tax-friendly companies, there was another seven million in bonds and stocks in South American markets. There was also a huge villa with a vineyard on the coast of Argentina.
All this secret wealth was sheltered in a living trust in my name and therefore disconnected from any legal action disgruntled investors might wish to take against my father’s estate.
My father left instructions to keep his will sealed for exactly one year after his death. “To protect your privacy,” explained Charlie Hodges, my late father’s attorney and estate executor. “So you had time to recover and the media had time to back away.”
That’s happened, but how soon before the media rushes back when they discover my newfound wealth? The world had a front row seat to the spectacular collapse of the financial empire of James McRae and he took every investor, big or small, down with him. A lot of money was lost, many lives crushed in the process.
My father’s business holdings, albeit seemingly vast, were not much more than a ruse, a way for him to swindle your money and use it to grow his own fortune. He wanted to rebuild the prestige of the McRae Empire that had been squandered away by his own father’s reckless decisions.
All was lost in a single night. My father imploded like a supernova as the world watched. The images of those horrible days swim through my mind now like a sad music video: the flash of light bulbs, the microphones shoved to our faces, the circus of a trial, the tears after sentencing, my father’s car flying off the cliffs of Pacific Coast Highway near Big Sur. He died in flames and by his own choice.
And from those ashes, I now have millions of dollars at my disposal. Everyone will believe I was in on the fraud. I wasn’t. I was clueless. Hodges assures me my inheritance has been managed since my birth and derives largely from my maternal grandmother’s estate. I have every right to it.
My father was merely the caretaker of my inheritance and he took his responsibility seriously and honestly. He made sure it grew considerably over the years. He must have been tempted a thousand times to redirect the funds to help himself out of dire circumstances.
He never took a penny, but he did install the provision that I had to get hitched or wait until I turned twenty-eight. Thanks a million, Dad (actually, 19 million). But, really, what a chauvinistic pig to insist I marry to receive Grandma’s money.
Did I say that out loud? Nope, Jules is oblivious, buried behind a pile of documents on her desk as she double checks the agreement she drew up for Lukas and me. That girl is nothing if not meticulous.
“Tell me again how you convinced me to go through with this plan, Jules,” I blurt out, fed up with my incessant thoughts.
It’s true. The escort thing was her idea. Jules of all people—smart, thoughtful, methodical, supportive Jules, freshly graduated from law school and working as a junior clerk at the law firm where her father is a partner—was the one who suggested I hire an escort and fake a marriage.
“Because you wanted to circumvent your father’s intent,” she says after a dramatic pause, still not looking at me. “In fact, I think you love it.”
“Excuse me? Love is the very thing we are avoiding here.”
“Nope,” Jules says succinctly. “You’ve been too good too long and this gives you the chance to do something a little wrong. And I think you’re smitten with the whole enterprise.”
“And I think you’re wack,” I say.
Jules snorts. “You know I’m right.”
“I know you’re wack. That’s what I know.”
Her beautiful hazel eyes fly up to me finally. “On the contrary, I am quite the dignified lawyer.”
“There’s such a thing?”
“See. You’re getting less polite by the second,” Jules says. “You’re quickly turning into a very bad girl.”
“Huh,” I retort. “Have you forgotten that it was not I that authored this whole nefarious affair? It was you, oh dignified personage, who turned dark.”
Jules laughs as she continues reading. “That is true. And like you, I’m kind of enjoying it. Could you call in your future husband, the honorable Mister Beefcake? Time to sign your life away, at least temporarily.”
When I return with Lukas Dupree, he fills the room with his cologne, tan physique and larger-than-life charisma. Even the air embraces him and delivers his essence to Jules’ delighted nose.
His rich brown hair is meticulously styled back with gel. His bronze skin possesses a rugged glow in complete contrast to his white linen dress shirt.
Jules’ eyes drink a full cup of Lukas. I’m sure she would like nothing more than to be escorted by him anywhere and everywhere.
“Where do I sign?” he says with an easy grin that could melt icebergs.
Jules turns the first page before she offers him the paperwork. “You can review pages two, three and four. It’s pretty straightforward. The fifth page is where you sign,” she says, keeping her eyes fixed on him like he’s her next meal. I half expect her to lick her lips (or him) when Lukas extends an arm to take the papers.
He sits by Jules’ desk. He winks to me. Both Jules and I are mesmerized as he begins to read the pages. When he finishes reading, he collects his thoughts. The distinct possibility that he’ll change his mind worries me. After a deep breath, he grabs the pen from the desk in front of him. The pen flies effortlessly across the paper, causing my heart to skip a few beats.
Lukas grins as he hands me the signed form with his name and date clearly spelled out.
On the line beneath his signature, a blank spot waits for my own signature. I stare at the page, utilizing my breathing techniques from yoga.
This is not a big deal. Everything is fine.
I spot Lukas’ birth date on top of the page. He turned twenty-eight two months ago. I’m twenty-five. If I were the same age as him, I would not need him.
I realize I’m stalling. I release one more lung full of stress and jot down my signature with the lavish cursive writing my mother used to try to tame when I was young. She likes it now that she thinks I’ve become an artist.
Okay, it’s done. No going back. Except I could tear the document to pieces right now and forget about the whole damned thing.
“Thank you, Lukas,” Jules says as she practically yanks the papers out of my hands. “Nora, could I have a word?”
It takes me a moment to process before I get that she wants to talk to me in private. I turn to Lukas. “Would you mind?”
“Not at all,” he says. “I could use some coffee.”
I catch Jules being hypnotized by his backside as he walks for the door.
“I’m sorry,” Jules says, fanning herself with a blue folder. “You should have warned me. He’s so, how would one say it? Fucking hot!”
Julia Chen is all bark and no bite. Her standards when it comes to most things, including men, are out of this world. I’ve seen her dismiss Ivy League guys nearly as hot as Lukas. I’m not sure Superman could win her heart.
“You wanted me to go to the dark side,” I remind her.
“Nora, that’s the hottest piece of man flesh I ever saw. Stop me if I’m being inappropriate, but can your husband spank me? Please?”
“You are way past inappropriate, but I’m used to that about you, Jules. It’s where you live,” I tease.
Jules gets serious now. “Listen, baby girl, don’t forget that I’ve included some fine print in the agreement. You can get out anytime you want and it will only cost you one thousand dollars as far as compensation for Lukas beyond the days of his actual employment. And just because you signed today, doesn’t mean you have to go ahead with the wedding
.”
“As you’ve only told me a hundred times. He can get out as well,” I add.
“Yeah, but then he gets nothing,” Jules says, pensively.
That’s no good. “What, Jules?”
“I expected some push back, to be honest. I can’t believe he signed without uttering a word. He read the whole thing. I made no attempt to cover up the fact that the agreement heavily favors you. I don’t know, maybe he’s not, you know, all that bright, or he needs the money desperately, or…”
“Or?”
“Or I don’t know. Just make sure you stay safe. He’s too good to be true.”
“Do you think he could be dangerous? Because I can tell you without hesitation, he’s not dumb.”
“Just don’t get lost in all his loveliness, Nora. His background check did hold up. He appears so far to be honest. Just be smart and stay in control.”
I wrap my mind around all we’re about to set in motion.
Lukas returns with a coffee cup and all that manly goodness of his that makes my bones involuntarily melt every time he’s near. “Am I allowed back in?” he asks. “I’d like a few moments with Nora myself.”
Jules nudges me gently with her elbow towards Lukas. “Your future husband beckons. You do have a lot to talk about.”
I bend my face at her disapprovingly as I grab my purse to follow Lukas who waits for me at the door.
When I catch up to him, he wraps an arm around my waist to usher me into a glass elevator. My heartbeat betrays my body’s reaction to being in a confined space next to Lukas Dupree.
“How should we begin?” he says, taking my hand.
“What do you mean?”
“Should we start dating? You know, be seen going places together so your friends and family don’t get suspicious?”
His suggestion makes sense even though there are few in my life who would care one way or the other. “I guess. Sure,” I say. “There’s this thing coming up. My cousin, Jocelyn, is getting married. A week from Saturday. You can be my plus one.”
Lukas is amused. “A wedding? You have to appreciate the irony.”
Tremble Page 2