"Fiancées?"
"A couple."
This was news. "Drag them out of the closet when you need them, do you?"
"Very funny."
She leaned out to take the saucer and cup, then relaxed into the chair. "You're already deep in the puddin', Mr. Donahue. You'd best tell me what it is you want from me."
"I want to hire you to act like my wife for one evening, dinner with a man whose company I'm trying to buy. After that, its over."
"Sounds like a one-night stand without the sex."
"Exactly."
She sipped coffee, staring at Katherine's desktop, very aware of his eyes on her, his impatience. Let him wait, she thought. It was degrading for him to ask her to dinner and pay her to do it. Did he think she was not good enough to date otherwise, or that this agreement would keep the news of the artificial marriage from leaking to the public? Lord a'mighty, if the press got ahold of this. If Elizabeth did…
"I set the rules."
"I didn't know we'd need any?"
Her gaze flashed up. "Do you want to convince this man or be two strangers dining with a third?"
"I see your point."
She set the cup on the desk and stood, taking a step away. "I'll meet you at your place and we pick O'Malley up together." He frowned. "It'll make a stronger 'we're married statement.'" He agreed. "I'll prepare a dinner for us."
"I thought we'd go to the Baintree."
She made a face. It was posh bistro on the waterfront where she swore laughing was not allowed. "Don't take this too personally, but I'd rather not be seen as your flavor of the week."
Alex had to admire her candor. It was rare that a woman faced up to him. He knew he wasn't the most congenial person, but he was relieved she saw this the same way he did. As a job, an assignment. Yet a part of him, the barren spot deep in his chest refusing to remain hidden when she was around, wanted to be more than a job to her.
"You keep the touching down to a minimum, and no kissing."
His eyes flared a bit. "You're supposed to be my wife."
"I'm frigid," she said, deadpan.
Like hell, he thought.
"What will you tell him later?"
"Hopefully I won't have to say a thing, but if I have to, I'll just tell him we had irreconcilable differences." My life story, he thought, bitter memories threatening.
"Just don't make me out to be the bad guy, okay? Your history has a way of clinging to a woman."
The distaste in her voice irritated him.
"When?" she asked.
"Tomorrow night."
Her eyes widened. "Cutting it a little close, aren't you?"
Hell, yes, it was close, but he'd already recognized that his attraction for her ran too deep for comfort and control, which was why he'd battled over this until it was almost too late. Good Lord, the woman floated through his dreams again last night until he'd stormed through the condo, dumping aging flowers in the trash to get her memory out of his home. And the last place he wanted to be was here, staring into those incredible dark eyes and asking for her help.
"I was desperate," he finally admitted.
"You seem to be that way a lot lately, rich boy." Grabbing her handbag, she headed to the door. "You pay Wife Incorporated directly." She stopped at the door, looking back. "I want to feel like the lady my mama raised and not a—"
"Don't." He hated her even thinking like that. "Don't say it, Miss Holt. I swear that's not what I was thinking when I asked this."
Her expression softened. "I'd like to believe that, but if you'd known me a bit better, you would have just asked and I might have done it."
He pushed away from the desk and crossed to her. "Might?"
She paused long enough to say, "I guess you'll never know now, will you?" Then she was gone.
* * *
Alex took one look at her car and said, "I wish you'd have let me send the limo for you."
She didn't need this evening to bring that kind of attention. "I'm perfectly capable of driving myself, Mr. Donahue. Besides, I needed to pick up groceries for dinner." Madison ducked into the limousine, feeling as if she were stepping into a fantasy world.
He joined her. "Don't you think you could call me Alex by now?"
"I could."
His smile was slight as he shifted toward her. "This isn't going to be a battle? Please say the white flag is up."
"Yes, it's up and flapping. We can't have Mr. O'Malley thinking there's trouble in paradise, can we?"
"I realize this is asking a lot of you."
No, she thought, he couldn't possibly know. "I think you could secure this deal without lying to this man."
Her confidence in him startled Alex, then made him go warm inside. "I suppose, and I don't like this any more than you do, but Angus doesn't say anything he doesn't mean, and his last words were 'if you were settled I'd feel more confident about selling to you.'" He leaned over to an ice bucket and plucked two flutes and a bottle of champagne.
"You make marriage sound like a prison sentence."
"It is." He popped the already loosened cork and poured.
"Your parents divorced?"
He handed her a flute. "They're dead."
Sympathy shaped her features, and she laid her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry."
"It wasn't your fault."
She jerked back. His response was emotionless, unrepentant, and Madison wondered just how deeply their deaths affected him.
"I'd rather not discuss it," he said when she opened her mouth to speak.
She eyed him. "Fine, but when O'Malley asks, you'd better be prepared to speak up." She gulped champagne, then set the flute in the holder.
"I can handle it."
"Lies come easily to you?"
He gave her a dry glance just as his cell phone rang. He responded, pulling out a computer notepad and tapping an entry. He spoke to the caller, then glanced out the window as the limo rolled to a stop in the heart of Savannah.
Madison looked, frowning. They were in front of a rather expensive jewelry store, and before she could question him, a slender, older man left the shop, heading straight for the limo. Alex leaned out to open the door, and the man ducked inside.
Closing the door, the man didn't spare Madison a glance and addressed Alex. "I hope these will be satisfactory, Mr. Donahue."
Alex waved, ending the call, and the man opened a large thin velvet box.
Madison inhaled. It was filled with diamond rings. Diamond wedding rings.
Tucking the phone inside his jacket, he settled back into the cushions and said, "Choose one."
She arched a brow, his uninvolved attitude driving anger through her. He was creating an image, setting the stage, and it stung that the first time she chose a ring with so much meaning behind it, it was for a game so he could own another company he didn't need.
She stared at the rings, so big she'd need an armed guard.
Alex watched her, surprised when she selected a simple, demure band of diamonds, the least costly and ostentatious of the collection. He didn't know what it was about her choice, for she well knew he could afford any one of them, but that particular ring spoke more about her than anything else.
She didn't put it on and lifted her gaze to his. "You select one."
"I don't need to wear a ring." He waved the man off, and the jeweler closed the box.
Madison bent close to whisper, "Either you select a wedding band and wear it, or I refuse to do this." If anything, tonight he'd understand he couldn't pull her into his ploys without sharing the burdens.
Alex frowned at her, his gaze sketching her face and the tenacity he saw there. "You're going to be a tyrant about this, aren't you?"
"Oh, yes," she said with feeling.
Alex looked at the jeweler, nodding. He opened the tray, indicating the men's rings. With scarcely a glance, Alex pulled the mate of hers from the rows. But before he could put it on, Madison took it from him, slipping it on his finger.
He
went still as glass.
A sudden warmth spread through him, her hands soft and delicate against his, her smile Mona-Lisa slight, with mystery, and for the briefest moment he wished this wasn't a lie. He wished he didn't have so much crowding his life, wished he didn't have a well-honed reputation that put her off and made her think less-than-stellar thoughts of him. He wished he was worthy of—
No, he didn't have time for fantasies. He had the deal of his lifetime to secure, and he didn't want a wife, or the heartache that came with loving someone and having them leave. Regardless, he took her hand and watched as he slid her diamond band onto her finger.
His heart wrenched at the sight of it, the circle of water-clear white stones. Possession, it said. A mark for the world to see. His mark. And in the back of him mind, a dark, begging hunger roared to life and taunted him.
"Alexander?"
His head jerked up, his gaze colliding with hers. He swallowed. He'd never heard her say his name. And the whisper of it drove a hard spike of longing through him.
Without pause she touched the side of his face, a stroke of soft fingers, and Alex nearly moaned at the sweet feel of her touch. Her lips curved, as if she understood all he was feeling. Even though he didn't have a clue.
Her hand covered his. "I won't let you down, Yankee."
They'd crossed an indefinable line, he thought, partnering him with a woman he'd no right to involve in this.
They glanced at the jeweler. The older man smiled endearingly, oblivious to the weight of their deeds. Alex put a finger to his lips, a sign for complete discretion, and the jeweler nodded, leaving the limo. The car rolled away from the curb.
Madison sank into the cushions, feeling drained and accepting the now-full flute. She didn't think she'd experienced anything as elegant as sipping champagne in a limo riding through the streets of Savannah. If only it wasn't a lie.
Alex settled back into the seat, the motion putting him closer to her. He caught a breeze of her perfume, and the same image he'd carried for days flooded through his mind. Long, hot kisses. Wild jungle sex. He shifted uncomfortably in the cushions and tried to redirect his thoughts from her. But he couldn't, watching as she brought the crystal to her mouth, entranced as the pale bubbling liquid slid over her lips. Everything she did aroused him, in the shift of her bare shoulders in the fitted, dark-green dress, the way she crossed her legs only at the ankle. Brown ringlets framed her face, the length of her hair caught in an old-fashioned snood of gold-and-green silk webbing. It fitted her, and he could almost see her in a full gown at a cotillion a hundred and fifty years ago.
Almost. But the images bouncing through his mind had nothing to do with pounds of clothes and old Southern manners, but of bare skin and abandonment. He suspected there was a wild creature under all that delicate dignity.
She turned her head and met his gaze. "You're staring again," she said, and it wasn't at all like he had the night they'd met.
He blinked, then finished off his drink in one swallow. "So I am." He turned the flute rim down in the ice bucket as the limo pulled to the curb.
Alex stepped out, turning back for her. Her legs came first, and as she ducked and rose, it put her smack against him.
Her breath snagged. "I can't walk if you're blocking the way."
He gazed down into her beautiful brown eyes. "There is something we have to get past to make this believable, Madison."
"And that is?"
In an instant his arm slipped around her waist, pulling her flush against his length. Her eyes flew wide, her hands on his chest, her evening bag in her hand.
"Alexander" came in a rush and the sound of his name, husky, whispered as in his dreams; sent him over the edge of his control.
He kissed her, hard.
And Madison came unglued.
And Alex felt ripped apart. It was better than he'd imagined, hotter, sweeter, and that she responded stole every thought from his brain except tasting more of her. His mouth rolled over hers, wet and deep, and she opened wider, her tongue pushing between his lips and making him groan with the pleasure of her abandon. The kiss was raw and blistering, too much for public. Alex knew he shouldn't have done this. Should never have touched her. He was already hard for her and this just made it worse. The urge to push her back into the limo, say to hell with the deal and spend the evening doing just this, nearly overtook him. Then her hands shifted, sliding around his neck, her body laid against his like a layer of silk. He pressed her a bit harder to him, aching in every cell of his body, and a little sound escaped her throat, tumbling into his mouth. And that thought of her being wild … exploded into reality.
He wanted her. Badly.
But he couldn't.
She was the wrong kind of woman for his lifestyle – dangerous even, in all her genteel Southern softness. She was more menacing than Elizabeth could ever be. Because Madison Holt wasn't even aware of her power. And she didn't want a man like him.
He felt lucky she wasn't slapping his face right now.
She wouldn't, not when she couldn't think beyond his mouth moving over hers, his hands sliding down her spine, pausing to squeeze her a bit tighter. Sensations ripped over her skin, telling her this was true passion, devastating her with its strength and the heat gripping her insides. It made her want to be in the limo, in private, and to steal more than the taste and feel and the arousing hardness of him. Yet even as her body responded, her breasts swelling inside her dress, her lingerie clinging to her flushed skin, she knew this was not what either of them needed. It was a game and they were players. Yet that made the kiss all the more alluring, and she gave in to it, feeling more like a woman in his arms right now than she had her entire life.
They heard someone clear their throat. They separated slowly, and each of them, released a long breath.
"Dang." She stared up at him.
"Yeah," he managed, the incredible heat burning him still.
She reached up to wipe her lipstick off his lips. "I hope you don't think that any more than that is part of the game." She slid her arms from around his neck.
He frowned, trying to find his breath. "No!" came for her ears alone.
"I said no kissing. And for a man who didn't want anyone to know about this, that public display made heads turn."
He didn't bother to look. "Oops."
He wasn't the least bit contrite, the rat, and she couldn't stop her smile. Her gaze drifted over his shoulder, then jerked back to his. "I think this is O'Malley coming."
He turned, flushing a little as the tall, silver-haired man walked down the short hotel staircase. He was grinning.
"Donahue."
They shook hands, and Madison hung back, checking her lipstick and to see if her clothes had ignited. Briefly she closed her eyes, knowing he'd done that just to get the unfamiliarity out of the way, ease some tension, but it didn't work. Her body hummed with energy, and she reminded herself that this was Act I, Scene 1. The stage was set, yet the last thing she expected to feel in his arms was the total annihilation of her senses.
Facing him, she watched the exchange and immediately recognized that Alex respected this man immensely. Madison stepped forward and tried not to flinch when Alex slung his arm around her waist as he introduced her.
"Well, Donahue, now I know why you keep her a secret from the rest of the city."
Let's pray it remains that way, she thought, shaking his hand and noticing O'Malley's gaze drop to the ring. It felt creepy wearing it, like one of those antique poison rings, heavy, carrying the threat of pain.
* * *
Chapter 5
«^»
Madison felt trapped.
Aside from fielding questions about the lack of feminine touch in Alex's house, where they had met and married, Alex played his role well. Too well. The more Angus inquired, the closer he sat to her on the sofa, the more often he touched her, toyed with her hair, brushed his fingers over the back of her neck. It should have soothed, but it only made her uncomfortab
le. It was for show, and she knew he didn't want to be doing this, didn't want to touch her.
When Angus left the room to call home, Alex leaned close to whisper, "Relax. You're wound up like a spring."
She couldn't look at him, scooting away and gulping wine. "Then stop touching me so much."
"You're my wife for the day."
"Regardless, I'm not used to being … petted."
"When I pet you—" he growled in her ear "—you'll know the difference."
Her breath skipped, decadent images bursting through her mind. Couldn't he see how hard this was? "Don't say such things, Alexander, please."
God, when she said his name his heart did a quick jump in his chest. "Why?"
"Because … this is just a bargain, not even a date in the traditional sense."
Something speared him then, a wish to turn back the clock. "The bargain doesn't matter, darlin', and you need to be touched all over." He bent closer to add, "And kissed all over."
Goose bumps skated down her throat as she turned her head a fraction, gazing into his blue eyes. Her insides melted under his velvety look. She struggled to remember why she was here. "It does matter, because that's all this is. And what I might need is not your concern, not that you would have the first clue." He scowled and she didn't care. She wasn't joining the ranks of his unloved, not when she could so easily fall for him. "You might find this teasing easy, but I don't. I can't keep—" She hated the catch in her voice and swallowed. "Please … we had rules and you keep breaking them."
"We have to make this believable."
"He'd be made of stone if he didn't believe it."
Out of the corner of his eye, she saw Angus returning.
He made to kiss her, but she put two fingers over his lips. "Don't." She couldn't bear much more of this and remain objective, she thought, yet he kissed her fingers instead, nipping one.
Her eyes widened a fraction, her breath skipping audibly.
Madison looked at Angus. "Forgive us," she said, genuinely embarrassed by their behavior.
Angus waved it off as he sat. "I remember what it was like to be newly married. I must say, I was surprised when you told me, Alex. I'd have thought the newspapers would have spread it over the city."
GOING … GOING … WED! Page 5