Marriage Made on Paper

by Maisey Yates

“I don’t wear tweed. Well, I have a jacket that’s tweed, but it’s chic. Lycra isn’t the official fabric of fashion, you know. Though I know you couldn’t prove it by your dates.”

  He shrugged in that casual manner of his, that shrug that seemed especially designed to provoke her. “I like to have fun. I work hard. My obligations are met. I see no issue with conducting my personal life in the way I see fit.”

  He had a point, as much as she hated to admit it. Although she couldn’t imagine why any woman in her right mind would date him. Well, that was a lie, it was obvious visually why a woman would want to date him. He was tall, broad-shouldered and perfectly built. But on a personal level, while he was smart and fun to banter with, he was also totally uncompromising when it came down to it, and she knew she could never deal with a man like that. She’d seen the kind of toll a man like that could take on a woman’s life. And she’d vowed she wouldn’t become like that. She wasn’t letting anyone have control over her life.

  Although, obviously Gage had some modicum of control over her life since he was her boss, but that was different. When a woman gave a man her body he owned a piece of her. She thought the whole thing was just entirely too unsettling. And no matter how gorgeous Gage was, it wasn’t enough to erase the memories that she carried with her. Warnings. Her mother’s mistakes had to count for something, otherwise they really would be a complete tragedy, and as contentious as her relationship with her mother was, she didn’t want that.

  “If you expect me to buy new clothes you have to give me time to shop.”

  “You can have the afternoon off.”

  She shook her head, her tight bun staying firmly in place. “Morning and afternoon. I need sleep.”

  “Morning to lunch hour,” he countered.

  “Deal.”

  “No black. No beige.”

  “It’s an art gala, most of the women will be in black.”

  “I know, and that’s exactly why I want you to wear something else.”

  She frowned. “I’m not in the habit of allowing men to dictate what I wear. I can choose for myself.”

  He stood from his desk, and she was distracted, as she always was when he surprised her like that, by the superb shape of his body. Narrow waist, broad chest. And she knew, though she was ashamed to admit it, that he also had the best butt she’d ever seen. Although she hadn’t taken notice of very many men in that way before, so she didn’t have much to compare to.

  He raised an eyebrow. “So if your lover had a preference for lingerie you wouldn’t consider that, either?”

  She bit the inside of her cheek and tried to will herself not to blush. She never let men rattle her. She’d been on the receiving end of pick-up lines from cheesy to crude since she began to develop at the age of thirteen, and then, after she’d moved and started her new life, men had naturally assumed she was ready to bed-hop her way to the top of the corporate ladder. As a result, she’d assumed she’d lost the ability to blush a long time ago. Apparently not. She felt her face get hot.

  She’d never worried about her lack of sexual experience. It was a choice she’d made. In the environment she’d been raised in it had been a fight to hold on to any sort of innocence, physical or psychological, and she’d been determined that no one would take it from her. But in that moment she knew she would rather walk across broken glass than admit that no man had ever had cause to have an opinion about her lingerie.

  “I have impeccable taste,” she said instead, lifting her chin, trying to keep her expression smooth. Cool. Not completely flustered. “No one has ever had reason to complain.” She picked her briefcase up from the floor and stood. “And neither will you.” She turned on her heel and stalked out of the office, trying to ignore the thundering of her heart.

  CHAPTER THREE

  GAGE had never seen Lily look less than perfect. She always looked beautiful, even when she rushed into the office at two in the morning to handle some sort of media crisis. But in a dark navy blue gown with ruffled sleeves, a demure neckline and a back that dipped so low it ought to be illegal, she was stunning.

  Her hair was pinned to the side so that her curls cascaded over one shoulder, and didn’t cover any of the skin that was on display in the back of the gown. Her makeup was more dramatic than she usually wore to the office and her legs were bare, and on glorious show, the dress barely skimming her knees. And they were amazing legs.

  Gage’s libido kicked into gear, a reminder that he hadn’t had sex in a very long time. But business had been intense and when he hadn’t been focused on his various building projects he’d been handling Madeline’s big move into her new, off-campus apartment. An apartment she hadn’t wanted, because she couldn’t afford it herself. But there was no way he was letting his little sister live in a dangerous part of town, not when he could afford to buy her any home she might want. But she was stubborn, and while he appreciated that aspect of her personality, it could also be a major pain. It was also time-consuming and detrimental to his sex life.

  But that was why he was now standing in the foyer of the San Diego Aquarium eyeing his PR specialist’s legs.

  He put his hand on the curve of her bare back and he felt her jump beneath his touch. A slow smile curved his lips. He leaned in and her sweet feminine scent teased his sense. “You wore navy blue because I told you not to wear black, didn’t you?”

  She pursed her lips and looked to the side, her expression defiant and sexy at the same time. “Maybe.”

  “Because you like to challenge me without defying me outright,” he said, his lips brushing her ear. He felt the small tremor that shook her body. Interesting. She wasn’t as icy as she wanted him, and people in general, to believe.

  “I don’t want to get fired,” she whispered, her dark eyes warning him to back up or lose a limb.

  He frowned. He liked the feisty edge that Lily had, but she was his employee and he had no right to touch her simply because he felt an attraction. She was a good employee, and everything that made her so great to work with, made her the kind of woman he never wanted to get involved with.

  He dropped his hand and studied her flawless face. She looked different out of her work suits, with her brown curls shimmering over her shoulder. Softer. Touchable.

  His hands itched to do just that. To touch her petal-soft skin, to run his fingers through her hair. His body tightened in response to the thought, even as his mind rejected it.

  “As if I would fire you,” he said, putting distance between them. “You know too much.”

  “I think I might get that matted and framed. High praise indeed.”

  They walked into the main section of the art exhibit, which was being held in the kelp forest. The entire room was cast in a bluish glow, compliments of the massive, three-story cylindrical aquarium that made up the structure of the space. Water plants grew to impossible heights and fish wove through them. Art was placed on easels around the room, with a place to write down and submit bids next to each one of them.

  Gage walked over to one of the displays and, without even glancing at the artwork, took a form and wrote an astronomical sum on it before dropping it in the box.

  “You really should be less discreet when you do things like that, and when you do things like create wildlife preserves near your resort sites,” she said.

  “Why is that?”

  “It would help your image. And you need it. ‘Property developer’ is kind of a tough profession to sell to the public. You could make my job easier by trumpeting charitable contributions.”

  He frowned. “You were a witness. Trumpet it.”

  “You don’t want me to, though.”

  His jaw tensed. “Giving for the sake of your reputation is just paying for good publicity.”

  “Most people don’t have a problem with that.”

  “And what’s your opinion on it, Lily? And don’t give me your ‘my opinion doesn’t matter as long as the public likes you’ speech.”

  She bit her lip. Thi
s side of Gage always confused Lily. In some ways he seemed more uncomfortable having people know anything good about him. He didn’t seem to mind the negative press that came when he dated one supermodel, then switched to an actress the next night. But he didn’t seem to want to let anyone know about his good behavior. And there was something about that that made her almost like him sometimes, and that made all the other physical things he made her feel intensify.

  “It’s … okay, events like this are definitely a little bit fake. It’s see and be seen. Most people are flashing their bids all over the place.” She jerked her head toward the glittering celebrities and debutantes gathered around different pieces of art, waving their bids around while they talked.

  “I don’t play the game,” he said. “It doesn’t appeal.”

  “You have to play the game a little bit, Gage. It’s good for business.”

  “What’s it like for you, doing a job that’s so at odds with who you are?”

  The question was so strange and unexpected, she turned sharply, her mouth dropping open. “I … how is it at odds with who I am?” She knew better than most how important image was.

  The Lily Ford from a Kansas trailer park, who had pulled her way from poverty and put her past far, far behind her, was not going to get anywhere in the field of public relations. She knew, she’d tried that. But the Lily Ford who knew how to present herself with icy cool dignity, the Lily who wore tailored, designer clothing and always had her hair done perfectly, that Lily was a success. And it had all been a matter of image.

  Who she was underneath didn’t matter to clients or to the public when she was making a statement. All that mattered was what they saw. That philosophy was how she made her living, and she believed it, lived it, more than anyone she’d ever come into contact with.

  “You seem to value some sort of integrity. And you believe that these sorts of shows of wealth and generosity are false. But you wish I would engage in them.”

  She shrugged. “If the world were different, maybe these things wouldn’t matter. But we’re in a media-obsessed culture. That means making a good face to present to the media, and through that, the public.”

  “I don’t like to pander to the public.”

  “I know you don’t, but you do like to make money. And that means keeping your image favorable. Again, easier said than done for a capitalist pig like yourself.”

  He shot her a deadly look that she ignored.

  They continued to walk through the room. She noticed how, though Gage greeted people casually, he seemed separate from them, too. He didn’t really engage with people. She made her money partly by reading people, she had to have a good idea of who her clients were and what made them tick. But after four months, in a lot of ways, Gage remained a question mark. She spent nearly every day with him, but even with that, she knew very little about him personally.

  The conversation they’d just had was probably the most revealing one she’d ever had with him. Otherwise it was confined to business.

  Gage knew how to play the game. He said the right things to the right people, but there was nothing personal in the way he spoke to anyone. It was the first time she’d realized that even she had never seen past Gage’s public persona.

  A thin blonde socialite with cleavage spilling over the top of her dress grabbed Gage by the arm and beamed up at him, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Lily was standing on the other side of him.

  “Gage,” the blonde said breathlessly. “I’m so glad I saw you here. There’s dancing out in the courtyard,” she added.

  She noticed that Gage didn’t bother with his signature smile. “Thank you. I’ll be sure to dance with my date.” He hooked his arm around her waist and slid his fingers over her hip, the light touch sending heat ripping through her body. When he brought her close to his side her legs felt as if they might buckle.

  She’d never in her life been affected by a man’s touch like that. Of course, that could be because she rarely let men touch her. She’d watched her mother go through an endless succession of men. Men who had asked her mother to uproot them and move from one town to another, men who had berated and belittled both of them, men who had always held the control over both of their lives. Lily had never wanted that. By the time she was thirteen she’d decided that from what she’d seen of relationships she wanted nothing to do with them.

  She’d finally left home at seventeen and moved to California. Ten years later she had her own business, a beautiful apartment, complete control over her own life, and still no man. She had never regretted it. Some of her friends thought she was crazy, and insisted she was missing out on one of life’s fundamental experiences. But every time she agreed to go on a date with some guy her friends promised would be perfect for her, she found herself dissecting his behavior, imagined how the possessive hand on the curve of her back would change to a fist intent on controlling her once the newness of the relationship wore off. She didn’t have second dates.

  It was fine for her friends. Fine for other women who hadn’t seen the steady digression of a relationship over and over again.

  But Gage’s touch didn’t make her think of being controlled. She couldn’t think of anything. All she could feel was the gentle sweep of his fingers over the curve of her hip.

  “Care to dance?” he asked, his lips close to her ear, her body responding so eagerly she felt certain he would be able to see just how much he was affecting her. Her breasts felt heavy and she was thankful for her moment of near-defiance in purchasing the navy blue. Hopefully it would help conceal her tightened nipples.

  The blonde was giving her a glare that had the potential to turn a lesser woman to stone, and her pride only left her with one answer to give Gage. “Of course,” she said.

  In a moment of total madness, she reached up and touched his face, the dark stubble there scraping her palm. Her heart hammered hard, her throat suddenly dry. She dropped her hand back to her side. She’d thought about touching his face before. Fleeting moments that had invaded her thoughts while she fought for sleep at night, fantasies that had now bled over into reality. Her palm still burned.

  She followed him through the hallway lined with more aquariums and out into one of the outdoor courtyards where a band was playing.

  He took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers and drawing her into his body, his expression intense. Her heart was thundering in her chest now, and there was no pretending that what she felt wasn’t attraction. The most acute, real, dangerous attraction she’d ever felt in her life.

  “This is inappropriate,” she said, horribly conscious of the fact that her voice felt as shaky and jittery as her whole body felt.

  “Would you rather I danced with Cookie?”

  She snorted a laugh, then covered her mouth with the hand that had been resting on his shoulder. She lowered it when she caught her breath, not sure whether or not she should put it back on him. “That’s not really her name is it?”

  “It might be a nickname, I’m not sure.”

  “You never asked?”

  “It wasn’t important at the time.”

  That spoke volumes about the way Gage treated relationships. He avoided commitment with flings. She avoided relationships by not having romantic contact with men altogether. But they were both avoidance tactics. In that, at least, they obviously saw eye-to-eye. Relationships were overrated.

  Gage put his hand on the small of her back, on her bare skin, and he felt a small shiver go through her whole body. She was feeling every bit of the attraction he was. Strange, because he had only ever seen her in her buttoned-up professional mode, now suddenly she was unbuttoned and very, very hot. Although, she’d always been hot. He’d thought more than once about uncoiling her tightly wound hair and watching the dark curls tumble down.

  She shifted against him, her hip brushing his body intimately. His muscles tensed and desire roared through him, his body hardening at the accidental contact.

  He drew her closer, l
etting her feel. Letting her know exactly what she was doing to him. He didn’t hit on employees as a rule, ever. But she tempted him. And that was a new experience. Women appealed to him, and he desired them. But he’d never considered them a serious temptation. If it wasn’t the right time, it was easy for him to leave his date standing on the doorstep and go home without taking her to bed. There had been a lot of times in his life when pleasure had had to be deferred due to responsibility, either because of his family or because of business. He was an expert at deferring pleasure if necessary. But this feeling, this hot surge of lust coursing through him, didn’t feel like something that could be deferred or denied.

  Her head jerked up, her dark eyes wide, her breath coming in short bursts. “That’s definitely not appropriate,” she whispered.

  “Maybe not, but I’m enjoying it.”

  She licked her lips, the slow, sensual movement hitting him like a punch to the gut. She looked down again, not saying anything, but leaning in a little bit closer, her breasts brushing his chest.

  Her eyes fluttered closed, her lips parted slightly and she swayed a bit in his arms. Then she went stiff, pulled back quickly, her brown eyes huge with shock.

  “Did you make all the bids you were planning on making?” she asked, her breasts rising and falling with her labored breathing.

  “Yes,” he said, trying to ignore the ache of unsatisfied desire that was gnawing at him.

  “Then we should go. We’ll probably have another early morning.”

  She turned and walked back into the building. He shook his head. She was right to have stopped things, as much as his body rebelled against the admission. He valued her too much as an employee to sacrifice it for sex. Even if it would be incredibly hot sex.

  He liked to keep his life compartmentalized. There was work, there was his family life, and then there was his sex life, and he didn’t combine them. Ever.

  Though with the memory of her in his arms, how soft and sweet she’d felt there, how close he had come to tasting her lips, it was hard to remember why that was.