Under Contract

by Jeffe Kennedy

  “The girls, they were on their best behavior tonight, if you can believe that. You have no idea what utter pills they can be, and it will only get worse as they become teenagers. Do you know anything at all about raising kids or having a normal family life?”

  That hurt, but he carefully funneled off the rage. “Are you saying that because of what I told you? About my mother and father. What I come from?”

  To her credit, she winced, appearing chagrined. “No. God, no. I’m sorry. I meant because you’ve lived alone all these years. You have your life exactly the way you want it. Having us here would turn everything upside-down. The sex, the elaborate scenarios—we couldn’t do that with them in the house.”

  “I’ll remodel so there’s nothing to see. We do what we can when they have sleepovers. Lots of mature couples deal with this. I really don’t see what the problem is.”

  She made a sound of frustration. “You can’t just make this stuff up as you go along!”

  “Why—because you had so much practice raising kids before the girls were yours?”

  That stopped her, but she only bit down on her retort. “Touché,” she admitted. “But I had no choice and you do.”

  “Isn’t this better then—for me to choose to have the girls be part of my life along with you?”

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “I’ll take parenting classes. I’m good at learning new things.”

  “Ryan—” She cut herself off, floundering, and he pressed his advantage.

  “Let’s ask them. I bet they’d be into moving in here. They can pick their rooms—or I’ll have two connected so they can have an adjoining suite. Decorate it however they like.”

  She choked out a laugh and tossed back her champagne. “You’re talking about a commitment of at least six years until they go to college. Longer if they don’t.”

  “I know how to plan long term. Of course they’ll go to college—we’ll make sure of it. I’ve committed to projects that took far longer than that.”

  “People aren’t projects, Ryan.”

  “I disagree—with both you take risks in the hope of greater gain, you live with it day and night, putting energy into seeing it through whether it’s going well or not. You don’t give up on it. And, if you work at it hard enough, the results can be spectacular.”

  She stared at him, bemused now. “I must be drunker than I thought because you’re actually starting to make sense.”

  “Good! Then—”

  “No, no, no. I am not deciding anything tonight. Maybe not this week or this year. I know you’re changing the rules, and in the cold light of day I’ll be able to figure out how.”

  “Okay.” He took advantage of her surprise at his easy capitulation by going in for a kiss. “At least you’re thinking about it. You won’t be able to resist me for long.”

  “I can resist you,” she muttered against his mouth. “When I want to.”

  “Happy birthday, Celestina.”

  “Thank you.” She pulled back and smiled at him, a real one, full of affection rather than gratitude. All of her annoyance thankfully gone. “It was. For the first time in forever, it seems. So thank you for that.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The girls were, naturally, beyond thrilled to ride home in the limo. They played with all the buttons, chattered to each other about the evening, the pool and what they should wear to school the next day to show off their new earrings. She’d thought they might plague her with questions about Ryan, but they thankfully left the topic alone.

  Which was good because she had no idea what kind of answers she’d give. She couldn’t quite account for Ryan’s rapid change of intentions. The champagne had been so delicious that she’d had far too much, especially with Ryan forever topping off her glass in his charmingly solicitous way. So, even though she’d stuffed herself to groaning, plenty of the bubbles had gone to her head.

  She toyed with the diamond bracelet. Never had she seen anything so lovely, let alone owned it. It had to be worth huge amounts of money. Hundreds of thousands? She had no sense of scale on that sort of thing. And here Ryan just went out and bought it, as he did with everything that took his fancy.

  Including me, a little voice whispered.

  Because that’s what niggled at her. In some ways their arrangement, the electronic buying and selling of sexual favors, had felt more straightforward than this even more outrageous offer of his. What exactly was he purchasing now? If she moved in, she’d be dependent on him not only for shelter but for the girls’ happiness, too. She had a responsibility there and moving in with some man she barely knew because he flashed a big wad of cash and some diamonds at her hardly counted as a responsible decision.

  So very many ways this could go horribly wrong.

  What if they moved in and she and Ryan found they didn’t get along—where would she go then? She’d feel trapped into staying, at least until the girls grew up enough to leave home. Of course, that would be true of many people who were financially dependent on their spouses.

  But they weren’t talking about being spouses, were they? A trial run. Of what, exactly? Certainly he hadn’t mentioned the M word. Which was a good thing or she might have freaked out entirely. Don’t you want to get married again? She’d honestly never even contemplated the possibility. Of course, she also hadn’t been able to look past scraping together enough money to make the minimum payment on the credit cards and still have food in the house.

  She’d absolutely never imagined marrying someone like Ryan. His life was so beyond hers, it would be like a mouse dreaming after an elephant. No—a jungle cat that might find her temporarily tasty and then forget her existence after he swallowed her whole in one greedy bite.

  Then again...it might be worth it to give the girls such an amazing leg up in life. Catching her studying them, Josie and Carly sent her sunny smiles, without breaking the flow of their conversation. They were really happy tonight. If Ryan meant it, they’d have every advantage, probably even college, the way he threw money around. He wouldn’t want marriage, because of the risk to his financial empire, and she wasn’t familiar with the cohabitation laws of California—though all those celebrity stories about palimony indicated the consequences were nearly as dire. They’d sign some kind of contract, like a pre-nup, and she could ask him to promise to support the girls through college.

  It would be unforgivably mercenary of her—her parents would be beyond shocked—but she’d already been selling herself, in bits and pieces, each time she let him pay her to devastate her body. Why not just sell him the whole cow?

  The girls were worth it. God knew she wouldn’t be able to offer them what Ryan could, even if she paid off all the creditors and found another job, a whole other career. In six years’ time, she couldn’t have made enough headway to pay for college for them, even if they went in-state and took advantage of their residency discount. Something else that had seemed so far down the road she hadn’t even considered it.

  Ryan definitely had it all over her in long-term planning, not to mention decision-making.

  Would it be so terrible? She liked him. More than she’d thought when she agreed to this arrangement. The sex was obviously incredible, even—or maybe especially—the dark kind. He seemed to enjoy spoiling her and she’d never lack for anything.

  ...a lot of women would be perfectly happy to move in here and enjoy the money.

  She could just picture those women. The ones like Sarah Prescott, angling for the next husband to fund her lifestyle of shopping, lunches and salon visits. Occupying herself with planning parties and charity work. Tina had never wanted to be one of them. She came from hard workers, immigrants who made their own way in the world. Not social climbers. She’d always seen herself as someone who married for love, not money.

  Not that that had wo
rked out so well.

  And that was the crux of it. She’d be making the same mistake again. In the ruins of her heart, she could admit she was falling in love with Ryan, but she couldn’t allow herself to continue taking refuge in denial. Ryan didn’t love her. She knew that and had to remember it. They’d found some kind of intense connection in the crucible of hot sex. Their intimacy had been created like forced blooms—heat instead of cold carefully applied to bring something into flower that wouldn’t have been otherwise. They connected, yes, and knew each other’s deep pains, but that wasn’t enough to build a commitment on.

  Of course, she’d thought she’d loved Noah and married him because of it. So look how great her judgment was.

  Her phone flashed and a text from Ryan popped up.

  Good night, Celestina. Happy birthday dreams.

  She texted back, then caught Josie watching her with a little smile. “He’s a really nice guy, Antina.”

  “I’m glad you think so, too.”

  * * *

  In the bright light of morning—though miraculously without a hangover—she kicked herself for her own poor planning. Without a car, she couldn’t take the girls to school. She’d definitely lost her head the night before. She was about to ask the girls to text their friends to see if they could get a ride, when Ryan’s limo pulled up out front.

  Of course he’d think of that and look up what time the twins had to be at school. The man didn’t miss a step in organizing everyone’s lives. She poured a cup of coffee and took it out to Ernesto.

  “The girls will be out in five minutes,” she told him when he gratefully accepted it.

  “No hurry. I have daughters that age.” He grinned at her. “They’re never done primping.”

  “So true. I’m sure I was never that bad.” She returned the smile.

  “Do you want me to come back immediately to take you to the house, or would you like to call me when you’re ready?”

  “Oh, just come back immediately. I don’t want you waiting on me.”

  He gave her a wink and another smile. “It’s no trouble, Ms. Sala, that’s what I do all day. It’s my job. A good job, too.”

  “Ry—Mr. Black pays you well?”

  “Best employer ever. Makes sure we all have health insurance. I even have a 401(k).”

  Of course he did. The girls came bouncing out of the house and Ernesto handed her back the empty mug. “Thanks. That hit the spot. I’ll be back in half an hour then?”

  “That works just fine.”

  She packed a bag with Josie and Carly’s shared old iPod, loaded with songs that they “borrowed” from their friends, along with her workout clothes. She might as well try out Ryan’s gym. Her own trial run of what it would be like to be in his house with him off at work and the girls at school. While she waited for Ernesto to return, she checked her email for the first time in a couple of days. To her shock, a firm in New Hampshire had replied to her query, asking for her references and a time to discuss options. Uncertain how she felt about it, she stared at the email, then was spared making a decision when the limo pulled up at the curb outside.

  Ernesto put the window down between the front and back, so they chatted on the way. It made Ryan seem more human somehow, that he had people who liked working for him. Apparently he paid everyone well—not just her.

  Mrs. Matthews opened the door for her. “Good morning, Ms. Sala,” she said, perfectly polite and cheerful, as if she had no idea of Tina’s sexual status in the household.

  “Hi. I, um, thought I’d use the gym.”

  Mrs. Matthews tilted her head. “Mr. Black has made it clear his home is yours. You don’t answer to me, Ms. Sala. Quite the reverse. Please let me know should you need anything.”

  With a polite smile and nod, Mrs. Matthews went off to attend to whatever she did. Going up to “her” room, Tina changed into her workout clothes. If they moved in, would she continue to use this as her bedroom? That would be weird, but not as strange as sharing the master suite with Ryan. And then there would be the whole business of explaining the morality of it to the girls. They’d know she was sleeping with him, no matter where she slept.

  So many people cohabitated these days that the girls probably wouldn’t give it a second thought, but it bugged her that Ara might mind.

  Happy birthday, Arabella. You were well loved and are fondly remembered.

  Uncanny how Ryan seemed to understand her connection to her late sister—particularly given his own lack of family. His mother dead. That must have happened right before he left his home, got his GED and went to the first college. Where was his father? She mulled over the possibilities as she wandered through the house, taking the time to explore the many rooms, happy to discover the gym on her own.

  It was, naturally, state of the art. Ryan did nothing by halves, it seemed. Including her. Something she seemed to be continually cautioning herself about. Getting on the treadmill, she thumbed through the songs and found the soundtrack to Pitch Perfect. No surprise on that one. If their school had an a capella group, the twins would be the first in line to sign up. God knew they sang the songs from the movie enough—and sounded pretty decent, too, even with only the two of them. Josie kept talking about starting one. Maybe they should try to make that happen.

  She started slowly, walking, then jogging. The boardwalk was prettier, but keeping an even pace on the treadmill was easier. She’d work up to beach jogging again. As a reward for getting back in shape. By the time she got to the Bellas Finals, she felt loose and limber, sweat rolling off of her in a satisfying way. Great to work out in private like this and not worry about being watched. She sang along, amping up her speed, dancing as she ran. When they got to the part about putting their hands up, she did, too. Love, love you...

  Exhilarated, breathing hard, she slowed to a walk to cool down and pulled out the earbuds. Turning off the treadmill, she stepped off, turned.

  Screamed.

  Ryan stood leaning against the wall, arms folded, grinning at her.

  “You scared me to death!” she scolded him, her heart going faster than it had while running. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  His smile only widened. “Enjoying the sights. A whole new side of you. I like it.”

  Oh God. “I thought I was alone,” she muttered. “How long were you watching?”

  “Long enough.” He pushed off the wall and slid his hands around her waist. “You’re a great dancer, even while running. I liked seeing you just having fun, enjoying yourself. I should take you dancing.” He snuck a kiss against the side of her neck, even as she tried to push him away.

  “I’m all sweaty.”

  “I like you sweaty.” He licked up the line of her throat, making a hmming sound like she tasted delicious. “All salty, hot woman. With roses beneath. And you look amazing in those little shorts.”

  “You’ll get your suit stained.”

  “God, I hope so.”

  “I thought you were at the office.”

  “I ditched.” He had a smile in his voice. “I heard you were here and took the chance that you might be able to spend some time with me.”

  She laughed, shaky from the adrenaline hit and the unaccustomed exercise. That’s why her thighs had gone weak. Not Ryan’s teeth scraping all the right spots. “Time? Doing what?”

  He found her mouth, kissing her with rising hunger that tripped hers up another notch. “Whatever you like. My top choice is sex—it’s been days and days without you—but I’ll take whatever I can get.”

  “It’s only been three days,” she got out before he took her breath away by cupping her breast and thumbing her nipple through her jog bra. “Barely seventy-two hours.”

  “That’s what I said—practically forever.”

  His hands roamed over her, skilled and seductive,
making his top choice rapidly rise on her own charts. With a bit of shock, she realized this was the first time they’d seen each other that hadn’t started out as a pre-planned script. How would this work? Would he drag out the tablets and make her agree first—or maybe insist on paying her afterward? If she did move in, would he want to pay her a salary to be available whenever? But no, she’d been the one to insist on trading services. It seemed deeply wrong to continue with this arrangement when she could maybe take that job and make a living honestly. All such a complex muddle.

  He raised his head, the glitter of his gray eyes sobering. “What’s wrong? You went all tense.”

  “I’m—I just have a lot on my mind.”

  “I have a few ideas for what might take your busy mind off your worries.” He leaned in and nipped her earlobe, making her groan as the sensation arrowed straight to her groin. Somehow he always managed to flip a switch deep inside her, turning her into this sexual creature willing to toss all considerations aside, just to be had by him again.

  But it wasn’t that easy.

  Surveying her with a keen expression, he settled his hands back on her waist. “Is this about you moving in?”

  How did he do that? She glared at him. “Maybe not everything is about you.”

  He smiled easily. “Not everything, but this is. Come on, let’s talk.” He seemed to catch himself. “Unless you want to work out more?”

  “No, that’s enough for now. I’m out of shape.”

  His hand passed familiarly over her bottom as he escorted her out of the gym. “You feel like the right shape to me.”

  “Thank you. But I have this fantasy that I could be like those girls that rollerblade in their bikinis on the boardwalk. They look like gazelles, all graceful and golden.”

  “Perhaps—but you’ve watched the nature shows. It never turns out so well for the gazelles.”

  She had to laugh at that. “An excellent point.” He turned down the hall to the master suite. Sex still on the agenda, then? She sighed a little, uncertain how to voice her many concerns without sounding like a crazy woman. Especially when she was a crazy woman. He kept going, however, past the big bed and into the bathroom. “What are we doing?”