by Kim Karr
I nodded. “Yes, that page and the following one, too.”
Without hesitation, he took both pages and tore them in half the opposite way that I had. Something primal entered his eyes when he handed both pieces to me. “See, I know how to negotiate.”
Satisfaction brimmed in my gaze. “I have a few conditions of my own for you to add,” I said insistently.
One sexy eyebrow lifted. “Do you now?”
His tone was sinfully delicious and elicited a shiver that took its time running up my spine. “Yes.”
“And those would be?”
“First, you have to agree that this marriage is temporary. As soon as we sort the businesses out, we go back to our separate lives.”
“Not happening, Love. Marriages don’t work that way. There’s no language I can put in here that wouldn’t nullify the entire contract if I add the word temporary.”
My gaze narrowed. “Fine, just as long as we both agree, this is temporary.”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t have to be.”
“It does, Tyler, and you know why.”
He closed his eyes in anguish. “I have changed, Paris, and I will spend whatever time we have together proving it to you.”
Believing him was easy, but letting the heartbreak go, that was anything but. “Next,” I said firmly. “I want separate bedrooms.”
Covering his mouth, he laughed into his palm and then coughed. “Yeah, okay, sure, Love.”
I pointed to the paper. “Write it down.”
With his fancy pen, he wrote, #25. Husband and wife shall maintain separate sleeping quarters.
“I also want a no cheating clause with repercussions if there is any.”
His body went taut and he didn’t make any smartass comment. Instead, he said, “You know I never cheated on you.”
That was something I didn’t know, and something I didn’t want to think about, either. So instead, I motioned to the paper. “Write it down.”
This he did without a single protest. For the past ten years, I had no idea if he had or had not cheated on me, but sitting beside him now, I wanted to believe more than anything that he had not.
Trust was a hard thing to earn, though, and an even harder thing to keep. We both had a long way to go before that word left either of our lips.
Satisfied, I took the document from his grasp and found page three. “Here, this clause, it bothers me.”
He read it over and glanced up. “I won’t change that, Paris.”
“And why not?”
“There’s a huge chance we won’t be able to maintain the cash flow it takes to operate two wineries, even with the merger. One of our businesses is more than likely going to have to fold into the other for the whole to survive.”
“And let me guess which one? Mine.”
“You’d be wrong,” he said sternly. “Sure, I’d hate to shut down California Jane but if that’s the way the cards fall, I will.”
This wasn’t a poker game. “You’re telling me the two of us have to decide between Highway 128 or California Jane?”
He nodded. “Possibly, but that’s the reason we’re getting married. It will ensure equality.”
I gave a harsh laugh. “We’ll kill each other, you know that.”
“Possibly,” he said again.
Clarifying, I asked, “So basically, it’s you and me in the boxing ring going round for round for the next year?”
He bit his lip and sucked it between his teeth contemplatively. “I’m not sure I’d put it that way, exactly, but I have to admit, it sounds rather fun.”
I rolled my eyes. If he kept his flirtatious behavior this ramped up, it’s was going to be so easy to avoid falling under the spell of his devilish charm.
“Listen,” he got serious. “If we are unable to keep both companies afloat, wouldn’t you rather end up being a part of something rather than owning a piece of nothing? I know I would.”
Yes, he was right, of course, so I nodded. Yet, I felt conflicted. I wanted Highway 128 to come out on top, but I knew Tyler loved California Jane with a passion I would never know. And I knew if he lost it, he’d lose a part of himself, and I didn’t want that for him.
He had the label tattooed on his forearm, that’s how invested in the company he was.
“It’s important we both agree that if it comes to making a choice, we shut down the family business that is least profitable but keep the merger intact.”
Those dynamics weren’t ones I wanted to think about because it meant having Tyler in my life . . . forever, possibly. Yet, I knew Highway 128 was on its last breath, and without him, it had no chance of survival. So that was how I found myself nodding again.
“It’s spelled out in these clauses.” He pointed to an entire page of what-ifs.
The legalese was challenging to understand as I skimmed the items, but in the end I got the idea. Once I was done reading, I reluctantly agreed to the terms—marriage and all.
It wasn’t like I had a choice.
To be honest, he had the upper hand. As if sensing my apprehension, he moved a little closer as if he were a predator ready to strike. The scent of his intoxicating cologne made my head spin. “Now that the contract negotiations are settled, should we address birth control?” he asked with a rueful smile on his lips.
The flirting had simmered to charm and I found it so hard to resist. Yet I knew I had to make him understand our chance had passed, so I put my invisible shield up and glared over at him. “No, we shouldn’t, because like I already told you, we won’t be having any more sex.”
One eyebrow lifted and amusement twisted his lips. “Right. I’d almost forgotten about that. Should I add it to the contract?”
Binding a statement like that wasn’t the best idea. I snatched the pen from his hand. “That’s not necessary.”
The pull and push of the Mont Blanc had caused our fingers to tangle and everything between us went electric, that current lashing through the air.
The longer we touched, the harder my heart beat and the more erratic my breaths became. What was probably only three seconds felt more like three minutes until he finally relinquished the pen to me.
His chest was rising and falling, and I knew he’d felt what I had. And I didn’t miss the way his eyes flicked down to his lap or the way my body thrummed like a drum when they did.
Damn him.
“Where do I sign?” I asked, my voice raspy and low.
His responding roaring laughter filled the car. “On the dotted line, Love, where else?”
Yes, he knew exactly where I was thinking.
As I scrolled my name across the contract that would bind us as more than business partners, I couldn’t stop my hand from shaking.
And it wasn’t from nerves.
It was excitement.
But he didn’t need to know that.
Paris
I WAS GETTING married for the second time in one day.
Who did that?
Apparently, me.
With the contract executed, Tyler leaned back in his seat and stretched his long legs. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”
I pointed my finger at him. “This is business, Tyler. A temporary arrangement until we get things back on track.”
He placed his hands behind his head. “Tomato, tomahto.”
I shook my head. “Grow up.”
Those brows of his rose in amusement. “Oh, I have. But in case you’ve forgotten, I’d be happy to remind you just how much.”
The bitterness I’d been feeling toward him was chipping away and that old playfulness emerging. Caution though. I had to proceed with caution. With that in mind, I raised both my palms. “I’m good.”
Trees blew in the wind and the car sped forward. “Your loss.” He reached forward and grabbed the bag that Tabitha had been carrying. “This is for you. For the start of the execution of our . . . temporary . . . arrangement.”
Snatching it from him, I opened it feigning only m
ild curiosity when in truth I felt like a kid on Christmas morning. Inside was the gold lame dress he’d bought me over the weekend and the most perfect gold Prada platform sandals.
Prada.
How in the world did he get those?
“I wanted to get you something new, but time was short.”
A kind of hope started to sprout as I stared at the new shoes in my hands and then raised them. “You did,” I whispered.
He shook his head. “They aren’t.”
My heart pounded in overload. “They are to me,” I told him, touched that he’d gone out of his way to make this silly day special.
His voice lowered and he said, “Something new, check.”
My mouth fell open in complete shock when I realized he was attempting to accomplish the something borrowed, something new, and something blue list for me.
Giving the heels a flick with his finger, he watched as they swung in my hand. “Personally, I think you’re sexy as fuck in bare feet, but I figured you’d want to be wearing shoes for pictures.”
Gaping at him, I was struck with the realization that this wasn’t silly to him. He was actually taking this seriously. “Pictures? I asked.
He gave me a curt nod. “Yeah, sure, why not?”
“Because this marriage is temporary, Tyler. Until our family businesses are up and running again, or at least one of them. We don’t need pictures to capture a brief memory.”
“Sure we do.” The sincerity in his deep voice caught me off guard. “You know,” he said, “you could have an open mind about this and stop thinking of this marriage as . . . temporary before it even begins.”
At that moment, our eyes locked on each other and I couldn’t stop my pulse from racing. “Tyler—”
For a moment I forgot everything about our soul-crushing past except what it was like to get lost in his beautiful blue eyes. “Go ahead and get changed. We’re on a tight schedule,” he ordered.
Blinking away the past, I protested, “In here?”
He glanced around. “I don’t see anywhere else, and it’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before.”
Since I was anxious to get out of the miles of ruffles I was still wearing, and he was right, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen me without my clothes on, I did as he’d instructed.
For the entire time it took me to undress, I never once looked at him, especially when I had to take my bra off and leave it off.
That didn’t mean that I couldn’t feel his burning stare on me, because I could, and you know what? I took my time and tried not to shiver, and when I finally looked at him, his eyes were raking over every inch of me.
Hot.
Hungry.
Primal.
I was such a goner.
Paris
I DID MY best not to scream in delight.
The car came to a stop in front of Tiffany’s. It wasn’t that I was materialistic, but this was Tiffany’s.
Tiffany’s.
Freaking Tiffany’s.
He reached across me and placed his fingers on the door handle. I suddenly felt overwhelmingly, deliciously surrounded by him. “Excited?” Tyler dipped his head, his blue eyes bright with a heat I felt between my legs.
Oh, God.
He smelled too good.
He looked too good.
And he sounded way too good.
This was going to be so much harder than I thought it would be. I swallowed. “I’m not sure excited is the right word.”
His free hand skated up my thigh. “I bet you’re wet for me right now.”
The freaking bastard was always right. “I thought you said we were in a hurry?”
He laughed that schoolboy laugh that brought back all those innocent butterflies from my youth and then flung my door open. “You’re right. We are. And besides, you said no sex. So, after you, Love.”
I glared at him. “Please stop calling me that.”
“In your own words, never, not ever.”
I got out and stormed toward the door. He hurried past me and opened it. Inside, he held his arms out. “You can pick out whatever you want, but I had the manager put a few pieces aside for you to look at.”
“What kind of pieces? Kinky jewelry like butt plugs? Because we are so not going there.”
He cast me a sly grin that had his dirty thoughts written all over it. “Kink wasn’t on the menu . . . for today, anyway. But I’m always up for it. Just say the word.”
Heat flooded me, top to toe, and I felt like the blushing virgin I no longer was.
“And, FYI, the engagement rings I had set aside are replicas of the ones worn by Elizabeth Taylor in some of her movies.”
Elizabeth Taylor.
I hated that he knew me so well. “I guess I’ll look at those first.” I kept my voice even, void of emotion, but I knew he could tell how much I loved the idea because that grin of his grew so vast.
The salesperson handed him something. He took it with an appreciative nod and then reached for my wrist, where he slipped a blue beaded bracelet on it that had a small silver heart dangling.
My knees went weak and I looked at him in question. “What’s this for?”
“Your something blue,” he grinned.
I alternated between staring at him and the beautiful bracelet. “Thank you,” I whispered.
“One more thing.” He pulled his grandfather’s dog tags from his pocket. “Something borrowed,” he said, placing it over my head.
The tags fell in the slight cleavage of my dress and I pressed my hand to it. The memory almost too much.
He felt it too, I saw it in his eyes but then he bowed a low, deep bow and said, “After you, Love.”
Stepping into the viewing room would have been the perfect Breakfast at Tiffany’s moment if this wasn’t temporary. Sure, I knew the entire transaction wasn’t just business. It was just I wasn’t sure what else it was. Or what it could be.
That was the thing about Tyler, though.
You just never knew.
In the end, I did what any girl in my position would, and picked out a ring. Two carats of sparkle that mimicked one Elizabeth Taylor had once worn.
A ring I loved more than I cared to admit.
Paris
I WAS STUCK in A Christmas Carol.
And Tyler was the ghost of Christmas past, present, and future.
“Why are we here?” I asked, looking at the posh restaurant on the cliff overlooking San Francisco Bay.
His arms spread wide showcasing the majestic view. “This, Love, is the place for your engagement party.”
I burst into full-out laughter. “My what?”
Sneaking his arm around my waist, he squeezed me to his side. “You heard me,” he said. “Your engagement party, and the guests are waiting.”
Pushing myself from his heavenly heat, I looked up at him. “Please, no champagne or toasts.”
“No promises,” he murmured as he held my chin with his finger. “I make no promises. But I will give you a quick rundown on the guests before we go in.”
“That would be great.”
“Okay, it’s pretty simple. Julian and Darcy recently started dating. They’re both doctors at the same hospital and both of them are very busy.” Tyler stopped and released his hold on my chin and then he air quoted, “so they are keeping things casual.”
The way he did it made me laugh. The silly side of him had always been a side I could get lost in.
Actually very interested in what he had to say, I prompted, “And what about Christian and Lane?”
His lips twisted in a rueful grin. “They are the power couple.”
Trying not to pry too much, I tipped my head in question. “I’m not sure I understand?”
After glancing around almost conspiratorially, he leaned down and whispered, “Let’s just say Lane is the perfect wife for our state’s next governor.”
My brows kissed my forehead. “Theirs is a political marriage?”
The shrug he present
ed me with was all cool and casual. “Love isn’t always what makes the world go round, Paris.”
Pondering that statement would take some time.
I didn’t realize I’d frowned until he said, “Smile, gorgeous, I meant them, not us.”
Tyler and his flirty ways.
There was no time to discuss the idea of him letting up a bit because all of his friends were rushing out in the cold to greet us.
After hugs and kisses, the girls wrapped their arms around me and walked me inside. They treated me like I was a long-lost friend who’d come back to join the tribe, and I had to say, I felt more than warmed.
Being a part of something wasn’t a bad thing.
“You’re going to love this,” Tabitha assured me as we entered the building.
And yes, I was awed, and yes, maybe even a little wooed as I took my first step inside.
The place was kited-out with the most elegant decorations. Everything silver and gold, even the guys’ ties. And the girls were all wearing variations of the metals, too.
Darcy was beside me, chatting about something, but I was busy sweeping the room, searching for Tyler among the crowd. When I spotted him, I smiled, and when he smiled back, I glanced away.
A server stopped and offered me wine, and I took one of the elegant, long-stemmed glasses. As I put it to my mouth, I thought, this really was a party. A place where the room belonged to us, and us alone. No outsiders. No intruders.
There was caviar, champagne, and all kinds of finger sandwiches, not to mention the carving station and pasta station over in the corner.
Music started to play and corks began to pop. Tyler snuck up behind me and switched my wine glass for a flute of champagne.
Everything about this seemed so right, but I knew it wasn’t real. That didn’t mean somewhere deep inside me I didn’t want it to be.
Being someone I wasn’t was something I was used to, so pretending to be the happy fiancée seemed fitting.
We were standing beside a table when Tyler picked up a spoon and clinked it against the crystal glass he was holding.
Oh, God.
Raising my hand to grab his arm, I tried to stop him. “I said, no toasts,” I whispered.
“Too late, Love,” he said, clinking the glass even louder despite the grasp I had on him.