A Gentleman's Bargain

by Patricia Waddell

  When he laughed, it confused her even more. “Let me put it another way,” he said. “I'm a very wealthy man with an ailing grandmother and a large house on the Hill. You're a single young woman who needs to keep a roof over her head while she searches for her brother. If you pose as my fiancée, I will provide you a place to live and hire a private investigator to locate Donald. In the interim, I'll provide you with a new wardrobe and all the other amenities that go along with being the future Mrs. Monroe."

  “You can't be serious?” The words tumbled out of Claire's mouth.

  “Ahhh, but I am."

  She eyed him warily for several seconds and Garrett thought he might have misjudged her. When she kept staring at him, he realized that he hadn't insulted her as much as he'd shocked her. “I realize my offer isn't exactly what you had in mind, but I'm sure if you think about it, you'll see it's a practical solution to both our problems."

  “Practical!” Claire got her voice back. “But we're strangers. I only met you this afternoon and..."

  “The position isn't based on our arrangement becoming a permanent one,” Garrett reassured her. “I'm offering to hire you, nothing more. In payment for your acting abilities, I'll provide food, clothing, and shelter, as well as the means to locate your brother. And, of course, you'll be paid a salary. We can discuss the details later."

  Claire handed him her coffee cup and walked back into the dining room. She was reaching for her shawl when Garrett stopped her by saying her name. She turned around to look at him, unsure if she should run out the door or take the time to slap him.

  “I don't know what you're up to, Mr. Monroe, but I don't want any part of it."

  “You're overreacting, Miss Aldrich. My offer is strictly business."

  Claire replied with a dry laugh. “Business! What kind of businessman sets out to deceive his own grandmother? I think it's a terrible thing and ... I think you're terrible and I never want to see you again."

  She was reaching for the doorknob when Garrett stopped her again. This time, his hand appeared over her shoulder, holding the door shut while she fumbled with the knob. The fringe on her shawl got in the way and she cursed under her breath.

  “That's a habit you'll have to break,” Garrett said, amused by her temper. “What will people say if I announce my engagement to a young woman with the manners of a..."

  “Don't call me names,” Claire said, swirling around so fast she bumped into him. She backed up until the cool wood of the door was pressed against her back. “You're..."

  “Rich,” he said matter-of-factly. “Rich enough to hire a team of investigators. Rich enough to buy you anything you want. Rich enough to help you or..."

  “Don't you dare threaten me,” Claire said furiously.

  Garrett looked down at her. His eyes were as cold as a winter storm. “You don't stand a chance of finding your brother without someone's help, Miss Aldrich, and you know it. San Francisco is a very big city. Besides, who's to say that your brother is still here. What if he's shipped out on a freighter bound for Hong Kong? What will you do then? Work in a dress shop and sleep in a rented room until you're forced to accept some dull young man's attention and get married?"

  Claire closed her eyes, knowing that if she let go of her temper, she'd end up being hauled off to jail for murdering the banker. She took a deep breath, hoping that when she opened her eyes Garrett wouldn't still be standing as close as skin.

  “Think about it,” he said softly. His eyes slid over her and he had to fight the urge to kiss her. She was lovely when she was angry. Her eyes, before she'd closed them, had sparked with amber fire. He wanted to kiss her until she was purring like a kitten or clawing like a wildcat. Either way, he'd enjoy it.

  “Think about it.” His voice dropped to a seductive whisper. “All you have to do is play the part of an attentive fiancée and I'll take care of all your problems."

  Right now, Claire's biggest problem was Garrett Monroe. He was standing so close she could feel his breath on her hair. Her heart was racing and her head was spinning. Did the man think she was made of wood? How could he possibly think that she could pretend to love him without eventually falling in love for real?

  Because, he doesn't know that I'm attracted to him already, Claire told herself. He wants to make his grandmother happy. Not me. He wants to hire me the same way he'd hire a maid to sweep the floors of his grand house on the Hill. The problem is, he's right. It's going to take more than money to find Donald, especially if he's left the city. And if I don't find Donald...

  Claire refused to finish the thought. She had to find her brother. If she didn't, she was all alone in the world and she didn't want to be alone.

  Garrett watched Claire's face and knew that she was arguing with herself. He also knew the moment she'd reached her decision. Her body relaxed and her eyelashes fluttered ever so slightly before she raised them and looked up at his face.

  “I'll think about it,” she said in a faint whisper.

  The urge to kiss her was almost uncontrollable as he removed his hand from the door and stepped back. “I'll have Andy bring the carriage around,” he said, but instead of motioning her away from the door he walked to the service bell and pulled the cord again. “I'm sure your landlady wanted you home at a proper hour."

  Claire straightened her shawl around her shoulders in preparation for leaving. “If I decide to accept your offer, should I send a message to the bank?"

  “No,” he told her. “I'll have Andy call for you tomorrow afternoon. Shall we say two o'clock. We can discuss the details more thoroughly then."

  He sounded as if she'd already made up her mind. Claire had every intention of penning a curt refusal, but she didn't want Garrett to know that. At least, not now. She needed to go back to her room so she could think.

  The service entrance opened and Andy walked into the room.

  Claire managed a smile, then wondered if the young man knew about Garrett's outrageous proposal. Sensing that he didn't, she tried to act as if dinner had been an ordinary event.

  “Andy, bring the carriage around to the Taylor Street entrance."

  “Yes, sir,” the young man replied before disappearing.

  A few moments later Claire found herself being escorted out of the hotel. As before, instead of entering through the main lobby, Garrett led her down a secondary staircase and into a smaller lobby that fronted Taylor Street. Andy was waiting outside.

  “Mount Lookout,” Claire said unexpectedly.

  “What?"

  “The seventh hill,” she told Garrett. “It's Mount Lookout."

  Garrett smiled. “Good night, Miss Aldrich."

  “Good night,” she said, then went still as he reached out and took her hand. His mouth was warm on the skin above her knuckles and Claire couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have his lips pressed against her own.

  “Until tomorrow,” Garrett said.

  As the carriage moved away from the hotel, Claire was left with the image of the pewter gray eyes boring into her soul and the knowledge that all the money in the world couldn't save her if she made the mistake of falling in love with Garrett Monroe.

  Chapter Four

  The next morning arrived to find Claire frowning at herself in the mirror. She hadn't slept well and it showed. Her eyes lacked their usual brightness and her body felt bruised from endless hours of tossing and turning. She'd gotten ready for bed, determined to send Garrett a blunt note declining his outrageous offer, but as the night wore on, Claire couldn't think of a plausible alternative to her dilemma. The possibility of employment in a dress shop or similar business was still a possibility, but time wasn't on her side. She needed to pay her rent or vacate the room, and she didn't have anywhere to go.

  As Claire drew a brush through her tangled hair, she couldn't help remembering the touch of Garrett's hand. His fingertips had felt strong and slightly rough. She'd been surprised because she'd expected them to be weak and soft like a bank clerk's. Then aga
in he wasn't a clerk. He was a banker, a man of power and consequence. The kind of man who could call in favors and pay investigators to comb the streets of San Francisco until they found her brother.

  The more Claire thought about Garrett's offer the more she realized she had little choice but to accept it. The thought of returning to Cincinnati never entered her mind. She had no one there but a few friends who had turned into old acquaintances. There was only her brother and her hope that he'd be content to share a home with her while she found her own direction. One that she hoped would eventually lead her to a man who could love her and give her children.

  There were no grand dreams in Claire's head as she pinned up her hair and began her morning toiletry. She'd lived in a mansion for five years, but she had no desire for one of her own. She'd be content with a normal house and a normal man, as long as he held her close at night and shared his heart with her.

  She wanted the intimacy of a family and the contentment of knowing that once she gave herself to a man, he would be content with her, as well.

  The morning passed with the speed of a tortoise inching its way uphill. By the time the clock in the foyer chimed two, Claire was so anxious to get the meeting with Garrett over with she practically slid down the banister to answer the door when Andy knocked. Dressed in a light blue skirt with brown velvet trim around the hem and a white cotton blouse, Claire tugged on her jacket as she descended the staircase. The jacket was fitted at the waist with brown velvet lapels and cuffs. Andy gave her an approving smile when she opened the front door of the boarding house and stepped onto the porch.

  “I'm to take you to Willows Park,” Andy told her as he helped her into the carriage. “Mr. Monroe will meet us there."

  Claire had heard about the fashionable park at the corner of Mission and Eighteenth streets. She noticed a small basket sitting next to Andy's feet. Its contents were covered with a checkered towel and she wondered if Garrett meant for them to share a quiet lunch while they discussed the job he had offered her last night.

  Claire was too busy rehearsing what she'd say to the banker to notice the city's buildings and the people milling up and down the sidewalks. It was a beautiful day and there was a hint of rain in the breeze blowing in from the Pacific. When they reached the park, Claire's eyes went pleasantly wide. The park was everything its name implied. Tall, wispy willow trees graced the entrance, their limp green branches bowed toward the ground. More trees dotted the well-manicured landscape, offering cool little arbors where people sat appeasing their appetites while children darted among the flowering shrubs and rosebushes.

  Claire smiled as a young man maneuvered his way along a gravel path on a high wheel bicycle. Several children stopped playing and applauded his skill. The front wheel of the bicycle was almost four times larger than the rear wheel, but the young man controlled the awkward-looking contraption with ease.

  Andy turned the carriage toward the north end of the park and a grove of thickly boughed trees. Claire strained her eyes to catch a glimpse of Garrett, but the banker was nowhere to be seen. When the carriage rolled to a stop, she looked at her driver. The young man smiled.

  “He'll be along any minute,” he said, pulling a small round watch out of his vest pocket and giving it a quick glance. “Mr. Monroe rides here every Thursday."

  Claire was about to ask if he rode a horse or a bicycle when she realized the question was ridiculous. Garrett Monroe was far too dignified to ride a bicycle. No doubt he'd come galloping up on a black charger like a medieval knight threatening to lay siege to an ancient castle. The thought gave her pause as she realized Garrett might not be a warrior, but he had the same kind of power. His name was well respected in the city. His wealth, added to the strength of his reputation, made him a very powerful man.

  While Claire admired the fragrant blooms of a meandering vine, Andy unloaded the basket and a small blanket that had been tucked away underneath the carriage seat. He spread the blanket on the ground under the shady limbs of the trees, sat the basket in the middle, and climbed back into the carriage.

  “I won't be far way,” he told Claire when she gave him a questioning look. “I don't want to crowd you and Mr. Monroe."

  Claire tried not to show her apprehension as the carriage rolled away, leaving her alone.

  She wasn't alone for long. The sound of a horse, blowing and snorting, caught her ear and she turned around to find Garrett riding her way. Instead of a thick-muscled black war horse, he sat astride a sleek Appaloosa stallion. The well-bred animal pranced and danced its way through an artful array of azalea bushes, but Claire quickly lost her interest in the animal. Her eyes were glued to its rider. Garrett's dark hair gleamed in the afternoon sunlight and his face, bronzed by the California sun, was the most handsome Claire had ever seen.

  The sensations she'd battled all night came rushing back, along with several new ones. Garrett was looking at her as if he'd just found a misplaced treasure.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Aldrich,” he said, bringing the energetic stallion to a halt with a firm grip on the reins. “I'm glad you decided to join me. Have you eaten?"

  The last thing Claire wanted to think about was food, but she didn't want the handsome banker to know that her stomach was doing somersaults, so she smiled and walked to the blanket Andy had spread over the grass. Kneeling down, she uncovered the basket and found a neatly prepared lunch for two. There were slender slices of roasted chicken served between wedges of bread that was still warm from the oven. The hotel had prepared the food and Claire smiled at the plump grapes and apple slices wrapped in a white napkin. There was cheese and a bottle of red wine.

  While she spread the small but impressive banquet on the towel, Garrett watched her. Claire had the poise of a young woman who had been raised with a house full of servants. Her movements were calm and graceful. His grandmother's keen eye wouldn't be able to tell that Claire Aldrich wasn't what she professed to be. That suited Garrett just fine. What didn't suit him was the uncomfortable feeling he got every time he looked at the young woman from Cincinnati. It was an unnerving combination of desire and something he wasn't able to name as yet.

  He supposed a bit of it was his innate male instincts. It was natural for him to feel protective of a young woman alone in a strange city. The panic he'd felt when he returned to San Francisco and found his grandmother ill couldn't compare to the fear a young woman must feel when she realizes that she's all alone in the world. At least Garrett had his business, a home, and friends. Claire had nothing but a brother who hadn't bothered to meet her at the train station.

  Anger threaded through Garrett as he tied his mount to the branch of a nearby tree and left the animal to munch on the rich spring grass. When he found Donald Aldrich, and he would find him, Garrett intended to give the man the trashing of his life.

  Claire did her best to concentrate on the lunch she was preparing, but she couldn't keep her eyes from darting toward Garrett as he moved toward her. Dressed in a dark riding jacket, tan trousers, and black boots that stopped just below his knees, he was an impressive sight. He was a big man, but he had no extra weight to slow him down. His legs were long and lean. His upper body was wide at the shoulders and he moved with the ease of a cat strolling along a tree branch. She'd never been so aware of a man's physical presence before and it alarmed her. As Garrett sat down on the blanket, Claire reminded herself that he only wanted her to pretend that she cared for him. Telling herself that a hundred times a day might keep her from letting the pretense turn into a reality, but she wasn't entirely sure she could undo the damage Garrett had already done to her nervous system. All he had to do was look at her and her bones seemed to melt.

  “Since you came to the park, I assume that you've decided to accept my offer of employment,” Garrett said as he reached for one of the sandwiches.

  Claire took a deep breath and forced herself to meet his piercing gray gaze. “I have to find my brother, Mr. Monroe, and as much as it stings my pride, I also have to
admit that there doesn't seem to be any other way."

  Garrett admired honesty and he knew that Claire wasn't happy about her current circumstances. He also had to admit that he'd never had to pay for a woman's attention. Reminding himself that this was a business relationship, he poured the wine, and offered her a glass. “I'm a businessman, Claire. And this will be a ... What's wrong?"

  “I didn't give you permission to address me by my Christian name."

  Garrett laughed. “People who are engaged to be married tend to call each other by their given names, Miss Monroe. Mine is Garrett. Say it."

  “We're not engaged, Mr. Monroe.” Claire took a sip of wine to fortify her wits. When she raised the glass she found Garrett staring at her and it wasn't a friendly look.

  “I'm hiring you to play the role of my fiancée, Miss Aldrich, and I don't pay for a job unless it's done well. Now, say my name."

  The authority of his voice frightened Claire just a little. She was about to stand up and call a halt to their meeting when she remembered the two coins tucked away in the dresser drawer at the boarding house. She didn't have enough money to pay for another week's rent. Feeling defeated by circumstances and the steely power of Garrett's stormy eyes, she sighed.

  “Garrett."

  “That's better.” He smiled. “Now say it again, but with a little more enthusiasm this time. We are supposed to be fond of each other, remember."

  “Garrett."

  The name rolled off her tongue in a sultry whisper that turned Garrett's short burst of anger into a flood of desire. He smiled again and this time the expression reached his eyes.

  “That's better. Now, let's talk about your duties. I don't want this drama to unfold improperly. My grandmother is ill, but she has the instincts of an alley cat. One misspoken word and she'll know something is wrong."

  The comment didn't reassure Claire's nervous stomach. She took another sip of wine.

  “You need to eat something,” Garrett told her. He handed her one of the sandwiches and watched until she bit into it. “We met on the train from St. Louis,” he began. “You're a distant cousin of Elizabeth Shurman and we were introduced by a mutual friend."