An Indecent Proposal

by J. C. Reed

  “Who is it?” I asked from under the covers. “If it’s Clint, tell him I have no time for him and his Barbie.”

  “It’s not him. It’s Clint’s attorney.”

  “What?” I asked, surprised, and pushed the sheets back. “What does he want?” For the life of me, I couldn’t fathom why someone like him would want to meet with someone like me.

  She shrugged, signaling that she had no idea. “You should talk with him, though. He said it’s urgent and that he can’t discuss any details with me because it’s confidential.”

  “Awesome. Just what I needed.” I exhaled slowly when another pang of pain shot through my head. “Tell him I’ll be ready in a minute.”

  “Sure.”

  The door closed. Groaning, I sank under the covers. Of all the times in my life, why the heck would Clint’s oldest friend and attorney choose today to pay me an unsolicited visit?

  I counted to ten, then changed quickly into clean clothes and pulled my hair into a ponytail.

  There was no point in applying makeup, and certainly no need to get rid of the scowl on my face. I had never made a secret of not liking him. Guys like him were sharks, and in particular those who worked for Clint. I decided I’d listen to whatever he had to say, then get him the hell out of our apartment so I could return to my bed to sleep off the pounding in my head.

  Chapter 12

  Aldwin was a little stumpy guy with a bald head and a sharp chin that was emphasized by a thin goatee. He looked harmless enough, but he had the keenest eyes I had ever seen in a person. To say I had never trusted the guy was an understatement. Maybe my utter dislike of him could be attributed to the fact that he seemed to hang out with Clint on a frequent basis, always openly boasting about his victories—both in relation to young women and to various trials he always seemed to win. Aldwin was—simply put—an unpleasant man.

  Like a salesman eager to flog off any product for the highest price possible, he was out to win with no regard for who ended up hurt or broke along the way. He had no sense of justice, which was ironic, considering he was supposed to be a man of the law. Helping others search for fairness wasn’t his thing. I knew him as someone whose craving for money and building connections had always exceeded his moral understanding or ethnic views.

  So, not surprisingly, I left the sanctuary of my bedroom and met with Jude in the hall with a fake smile plastered across my lips and pretty low expectations.

  “Aldwin,” I greeted him.

  “Miss Hanson, thanks for seeing me,” he said in his irritatingly high voice, which always made me cringe. He was standing near the door, his hand clutching at a briefcase, his eyes fixed on Jude hungrily. “May I invite you to walk with me to discuss a rather trivial matter?”

  Trivial?

  Then why the heck wouldn’t he just call, like normal people? But in Aldwin’s terms, “trivial” meant a lot of things.

  “Okay.” I inclined my head. “But please keep it short. I’m not in the mood for discussing any sort of matter. I have important business to tend to.”

  Which was a lie, but he didn’t need to know that. My lie was supposed to ensure he kept the meeting as short as possible because, God knew, Aldwin could talk for hours. Upon grabbing my jacket from the rack, I caught Jude’s “you’ve got to tell me everything” glance. And then she closed the door behind us, and I was left alone with the shark.

  “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” Aldwin began. “Times like this remind me how lucky we really are to be able to experience sunshine every day.”

  A beautiful day? Was he joking?

  The sky was clouded, the sun hidden behind thick clouds. From the look of it, it would start to rain any time soon. I was ready to bet my nonexistent wages that it was his standard introduction speech to melt the ice before he started to discuss “trivial” matters.

  “What do you want from me?” I asked and stopped, barely able to hide my irritation and distaste for the man.

  “I want you to have what your mother meant for you,” he said, repeating the exact same words as Clint. He’d probably received a transcript of the previous evening, I thought. “Clint…your stepfather and I have discussed your engagement at great length. He’s so happy for you.”

  I snorted inwardly.

  That I doubted very much.

  “As am I,” he continued in a fake-sincere voice. “Those are important developments, Laurie, which are aggravated by the fact that your stepfather will wed soon, too. Considering the fact that your mother didn’t take into account a few things, such as to what should happen when your stepfather re-marries—” The fact that he chose the word “when” rather than “if” didn’t escape me, but I let it slip. “—we had to make a few adjustments to the contract to benefit both you and Clint.”

  “What are you talking about? What adjustments? Clint and I had a verbal agreement. He keeps my mother’s estate, meaning all of it, while I get the letters once I’m engaged.” Frowning, I stared at him, my gaze cold as ice.

  “In order to fulfil your verbal contract, you no longer have to be engaged.” He paused for effect, and I almost breathed out, relieved…until I caught the malicious glint in his eyes. “We expect you to be legally married before your twenty-third birthday.”

  Was changing terms without the other party’s consent even legal? After all, Clint and I had a verbal agreement, and that was just as binding as a written one.

  If only I could prove it.

  As if sensing my bewilderment, Aldwin nodded. “I understand your confusion, Miss Hanson. Your mother was very specific in her last will. She wanted Clint to have her money and insisted in her testament that you shall get her letters before you turn twenty-three. The condition was that you’re not unattached, which, to me, means officially wedded.”

  He smiled, his eyes glinting with pretend kindness. “However, Clint and I have come to agree that, being her child, you’re entitled to a quarter of her liquid assets, even if she didn’t intend you to have it.”

  The way he said it, he made it sound like my mother was the evil witch and Clint a complete altruist.

  “I’m sure she had a good reason,” I found myself saying before I could stop myself.

  Clint’s smile froze on his lips, and the kindness in his eyes disappeared. “Anyway, seeing that your stepfather will remarry soon, we have drawn a new contract to avoid a future domestic dispute that might involve finances, may it come from you, or your future husband. We want to settle the issue once and for all.”

  “I do not want his money,” I whispered so low I wasn’t sure he heard me, emphasizing each word. Getting my mother’s letters was the sole reason for my fake engagement. It had never been about money, and Clint knew it. Mother had always warned me never to take it, and I chose to believe her.

  “Excuse me. What did you say?” Aldwin said, stunned. I stared at him as the penny finally dropped. Clint was scared Chase might insist that I claim my legal share of my mother’s fortune. A pang of rage surged through me.

  “I said, I don’t want the money, and neither does my fiancé,” I repeated. “I’m fulfilling my mother’s last wish by being engaged by the time I turn twenty-three, which will be in just a few days, as I’m sure you’re aware. I’m willing to give up my rights to a quarter of my mother’s wealth in exchange for the letters. But I want them now.” I stared him down, holding his hard glance. “That’s all I want.”

  Aldwin drew a sharp breath. “Are…you sure?”

  “Yes.” I nodded.

  “Miss Hanson, I’m afraid that’s not quite possible.” He moistened his lips and smiled the kind of smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You see, the terms of your mother’s will were pretty clear. Being engaged isn’t enough. You have to be married to fulfill the conditions of both getting the money and receiving the letters.”

  “But….” I struggled for words. How many times did I have to tell the guy that I didn’t want any money? Just the letters. Why was it so hard to understand? />
  “But Clint and I made a verbal agreement years ago. He said I would get the letters if I got engaged. There was no mention of marriage.”

  “He’s changed his mind,” Aldwin said, then dropped his voice conspiratorially. “Miss Hanson, he’s so happy for you and convinced of your love that he insists you marry. After all, time passes so quickly, and he wants to be sure that a man can take care of you and loves you for who you are rather than for your inheritance. Clint is convinced that your fiancé is a fine man. True love, without a doubt. His words, not mine. He has only your best interests at heart.”

  I stared at him.

  Was he for real?

  Clint didn’t have my best interests at heart. In fact, I doubted he even cared whether I was dead or alive. Clint was trying to pay me off now, before Chase could persuade me to sue his ass to get my family inheritance. My mother’s money had been passed down through generations, and my mother’s mental state had been more than questionable at the time she wrote her will. Any judge would have been more than sympathetic hearing my case. I knew this because several legal firms had written to me to offer me their services.

  “Of course.” I laughed weakly, suddenly faint, and jutted my chin out. “Tell Clint that my fiancé and I will walk down the aisle on time. Now, if you’ll excuse me, we have an appointment today. It’s for a cake tasting, and that is one we can’t miss. Please send him my regards.”

  “What about the contract I’ve drawn up? Will you be accepting the money?” His tone rang with fear. I wouldn’t have been surprised to find his hairy back slick with sweat.

  I laughed inwardly, enjoying my proverbial grip on his balls. “There is no need for a contract, considering that I will not accept.” I gave him my most confident smile. “Thanks for meeting with me, Aldwin. It’s been a pleasure.”

  Turning my back on him, I walked away from Aldwin and rounded a corner. Away from his curious gaze, I stopped and pressed my hand against my mouth as I fought hard to catch my breath.

  “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” I muttered, unable to control the anger and jabbing pain rising inside me. Now I was in real trouble. Contrary to whatever Aldwin and Clint thought, it really wasn’t about the money, and it never would be.

  My mother had wanted me to have the letters. Why wouldn’t Clint just give them to me? I had always disliked him and felt the feeling was mutual, but now I hated him with a vengeance. I couldn’t shake off the feeling that he enjoyed making my life a living hell by taking from me the one thing that really mattered to me—a physical memory of my mother.

  I spent a few more minutes outside, fighting to clear the fog of anger inside my brain. When it didn’t work, I returned to the apartment. Jude appeared in the door the instant I walked in.

  “What happened?” she asked, her voice betraying an edge of worry.

  “Just the usual,” I muttered, and walked past her into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me, then buried myself under the sheets, praying sleep would come and wash away the anger and pain, and anything related to them.

  The inability to grant my own mother’s last wish felt like a failure to me. With no husband and time running out, my options were depleted.

  I had lost the fight.

  Chapter 13

  It must have been late afternoon when I awoke to the sound of muffled voices coming from the living room. Assuming Jude was home watching television, I sat up and shielded my eyes from the setting sun coming in through the windows. Thanks to Jude’s magic elixir, my headache had settled to a bearable level, and the nausea in the pit of my stomach had disappeared.

  Time to face the world.

  I took a shower and got dressed in black jeans and an oversized T-shirt, twisting my hair in a loose knot at the nape of my neck, not bothering with makeup.

  The voices were gone. Apart from the faint traffic noise, the apartment was silent.

  “Jude?” I called.

  Nothing stirred.

  Maybe she had switched off the television set and left already. I knocked on her door and received no answer. I headed down the hall and was about to pass the living room when I clashed with hard muscles. Strong hands wrapped around my waist, steadying me as I peered up into gray-blue eyes, and my mouth went dry again. Realizing I was an idiot, I jumped a step back to put a few inches of distance between us. But the hall was too narrow for us, his proximity overpowering.

  “Sorry, I didn’t hear you,” Chase said. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

  I nodded, then shook my head.

  Make up your mind, Hanson.

  “I’m fine. What are you doing here?” I managed to croak, my eyes scanning the living room. But there was no sign of Jude.

  “You wouldn’t return my calls.” His tone was nonchalant, detached, even, as though he didn’t notice just how close we were standing and how fast my heart was beating in my chest, the way his gaze traveled to my neck and the roundness of my half-exposed shoulder, and then down the front of my shirt. My breasts peaked in response, straining against the thin fabric of my bra.

  “I popped over to make sure you survived last night’s cruel torture of your body.”

  I ignored his indirect referral to my drunken state. “Who let you in?”

  “Jude did. She instructed me to take care of you until she returns, and that’s exactly what I’m doing. I’m following her command.”

  Of course, she had done it again, the little witch. Trust her to use every little opportunity to play her games.

  “So, when will she be back?” I asked casually.

  “I have no idea.” He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his broad chest, regarding me amused. “But I’m ready to bet she’ll take her time.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “She will, won’t she?”

  His lips twitched and there was a dangerously handsome glint of humor in his eyes. “Here we are. Just the two of us.”

  He knows you’ve been trying to avoid him and likes the fact that he’s caught you off-guard.

  And, judging by the ever-growing grin on his face, he was enjoying every minute of just how uncomfortable he was making me feel. Or why else would he point out to me that we were alone for no apparent reason?

  I groaned inwardly at the realization that I had no escape route. I had no idea how to ignore his sexy body, which was all I could gawk at. It took every ounce of my willpower to turn away when all I wanted was to stare at the sex god before me and ask why the fuck he smelled so good.

  “You look nice.” Chase pointed to my shirt before his hand touched my hair. “I like it when you wear your hair up like that.”

  “It’s nothing.” I shrugged. “I do it every day.”

  “It suits you perfectly, Laurie.” He smiled, his hand still playing with my hair. His eyes were so deep, it made me blush. “I like it natural.”

  God.

  The way he said it, it was as if his words carried a double meaning. Or maybe I wanted them to, because his shirt emphasized his broad shoulders and narrow waist, and my naughty thoughts were all I could think about. He looked so delicious, my mind was already undressing him. Before my eyes I could already see those rock-hard abs that were clearly defined beneath his shirt. I fought the need to graze my fingernails over them and see him quiver from my touch.

  “Are you okay?” Chase asked. “You look a bit flushed.” His tongue flicked across his lower lip, sending a slow, almost painful pull between my legs.

  “I told you, I’m fine,” I snapped. “Just tired and hungry, that’s all.” It took all my might to force myself to walk past him into the kitchen and keep my back turned to him as I grabbed a cookie jar and held it up behind him, offering Chase one.

  “Is that all you want to share tonight?”

  Holy bang.

  There it was again—the subtle sexual hint. Or maybe not so subtle. Only I wasn’t so sure why he kept dropping them.

  “Just the cookies,” I said shakily. In spite of my better judgment, I was still hoping that it w
as just a figment of my imagination. My hands trembled so hard I feared I might drop the jar any second.

  Damn my hormones and their weakness for a pretty face.

  Damn Chase for not making rejecting him easy on me.

  Damn me for not being able to interpret the situation correctly much sooner.

  I stopped near the table, afraid to turn and look at him. In the silence, I could sense him stepping behind me. And then he leaned forward, his hot breath grazing the delicate skin on my neck until I felt I might just be about to melt.

  “Is that all I’ll get?” he whispered. His voice was low and husky, betraying a hint of arousal.

  My heart jumped into my throat. There was no doubt now.

  He was going for it.

  Big time.

  “I heard you the first time, and I think I gave you a pretty clear response,” I whispered, and turned around slowly. He was standing too close, oblivious to the effect he had on me. Or maybe he knew, and it was exactly what he wanted? Our eyes connected, and in an instant he closed the space between us, his hard body pressing into mine as his hands went around my waist, pulling me against his hard muscles.

  “You know I want you, Laurie. There’s no secret about that,” he whispered.

  And he knows you want him. Or else he wouldn’t touch you.

  His gaze moved downward to my mouth, settling on it hungrily. I swallowed hard, barely able to breathe. If he kissed me now, I wouldn’t resist. The thought hit me with such force that I almost flinched.

  I knew I had to get my wits back. Only, I didn’t want them back. All I wanted was to run my hands through his hair and pull his mouth onto mine the way I had never done with anybody else before—and all for a good reason. Chase had to stay out of this. It was for his own good. The people in my life weren’t safe. Pulling him into the mess that was my life without giving him a choice wasn’t fair.

  “I know you want me, too, Laurie,” he whispered. His hand cupped the back of my neck, and his lips inched just a little bit closer, his breath caressing my mouth. “What’s stopping you?”