A Contract Seduction

by Janice Maynard

  Despite his pretext of needing a decision maker in the office—someone to help him keep his illness a secret—he knew now that he had asked her to marry him because he’d been falling in love with her. He had believed there was a good chance she had feelings for him, too. Everything about their honeymoon had convinced him it was true.

  After they slept together for the first time, he’d assumed the reason she’d accepted his outlandish proposal was because she wanted to explore the connection they shared. To be with him for whatever time he had left.

  The truth was far worse. She had married him out of pity. Her compassionate heart and giving nature had convinced her to be his convenient wife, though the setup was inconvenient for her.

  His stomach curled with nausea. If he truly loved her, he would have to let her go. She’d spent years of her adulthood caring for her mother. Judging from the letter, she had been on the verge of finally making a life that was her own. He sure as hell didn’t want her to give up anything else for him.

  Because he couldn’t quite process this new information in the wake of everything else that had happened today, he shoved the letter into his pocket. He would deal with it later. When he knew what it was he wanted to say to her.

  When she walked out of the bathroom wearing nothing but an Isle of Palms T-shirt with tiny bikini panties, her smile erased some of the ice encasing his heart. “Thanks for finishing that,” she said.

  His body tightened. Despite his stress and mental fatigue, the rest of him was raring to go. “No problem. Let me grab a quick shower and I’ll meet you under the covers.”

  Her smile faltered. “Don’t we need to talk about tomorrow? The doctor? Everything he said? You’ve had a shock, Jonathan.”

  Two shocks, he thought, remembering the letter. “To be honest, I’d rather have sex and then sleep with my wife. Tomorrow will come soon enough. I’ve had about all the bad news I can handle at the moment.”

  As if on cue, her cell phone rang. It was on the dresser. He was the closest, so he picked it up to hand it to her. The caller ID on the screen was like a punch to the gut. Hartley Tarleton.

  Jonathan felt weird. Like his body was heavy but the rest of him was floating above the room, observing. He stared at Lisette. “Why the hell is my brother calling you?”

  Her ringtone was a familiar Beatle’s lyric about love being the only thing a person needed. It went on and on. She’d been holding out her hand for the phone. Now her arm dropped to her side. She was dead white, her gaze anxious. “I can explain.”

  He hit the button that denied the call. Now the silence was deafening. “No,” he said carefully. “I don’t believe you can.”

  The enormity of the betrayal sliced through him with a pain greater than what had happened to him on the boat. Lisette knew how he felt about Hartley. Everyone in his family knew.

  She wrung her hands, the action oddly ludicrous. “I put his name in my list of contacts so I would know never to answer that number.”

  “Try again.” His hands and his arms were numb. Was he having a heart attack? First Dr. Shapiro. Next, a jubilant moment when he thought all his dreams could come true. Then finding the letter. Now this.

  Lisette lifted her chin. “He called me yesterday in Antigua. Hartley said he knew something was wrong with you...that you brothers had always shared a weird twin connection. I told him I couldn’t talk to him. I didn’t give him any information about you, I swear. I hung up as quickly as I could.”

  “I see.” He studied her words. His brain was doing some kind of hyper supercomputer thing. Maybe Lisette was involved with Hartley somehow. And Jonathan had been stupid enough to sign a generous prenup, giving Lisette far more than Hartley had stolen from the company. What the hell was going on?

  His bride stared at him. Tears brimmed in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. “It’s the truth. I swear.” She swallowed visibly. “I love you, Jonathan. Let me help you. Don’t push me away.”

  Let me help you.

  “I don’t need help,” he said carefully. He no longer knew what to believe. But ultimately, her involvement with Hartley—or lack of—was a peripheral matter. Jonathan had to set her free. He couldn’t let her sacrifice her life for his. If the only way he could push her away convincingly was to be harsh, he would do it, no matter how much it might hurt. He pulled the letter out of his pocket. “Remember this?”

  “Oh, God.”

  “Indeed.” He laid her resignation letter on the dresser. “I’m going to a hotel right now. When I get back tomorrow, I want you gone.”

  Lisette’s face was ashen. “I know things have changed,” she said. “But you married me to protect the company. We shouldn’t be hasty. Let’s take time to think things through.”

  “The reason I married you no longer exists. Either the surgery kills me—in which case my sister will take over all the decision making—or I’ll recover and life will go on. But you have no place here. Not anymore.”

  “I told you I love you,” she cried. “You have to believe me.”

  He shook his head slowly. “I don’t know what to believe right now. Apparently nothing in my life is what it seems. I’m dissolving our arrangement, Lisette.” He picked up the letter, his chest tight with despair. “Feel free to pursue other opportunities and find new challenges. It makes no difference at all to me,” he lied. “I have more important things to worry about than your happiness and your future. That’s up to you, I’m afraid.” He heard the cold, cutting words leave his lips and watched them hit their mark.

  Lisette trembled so hard her teeth were chattering. “I told you I love you. I want to be with you when you undergo this surgery. Please, Jonathan.”

  “No.” He didn’t dress it up.

  She sucked in a deep breath, her gaze shattered. “Are you saying you want an annulment...a divorce?”

  There would never be a baby. Not now. Knowing that was the most terrible blow of all.

  “A divorce would be for the best. But we’ll hit Pause on the details until after the surgery. After all, this whole mess may sort itself out if my brain explodes.”

  “Don’t say that,” she cried.

  He shrugged. “You heard the doctor. Forty percent fatal. The way my luck has been going lately, even I wouldn’t place money on my chances.”

  “Please don’t go,” she begged. “Come to bed with me. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

  The giant wall broke, the one that had been damming up all the pain and screaming regret in his gut. He felt it drag him under, knew the moment he reached his breaking point.

  She wasn’t his to keep, never had been.

  “No thanks, Lizzy. I’m done with you.”

  * * *

  Four days after Jonathan Tarleton kicked her out of his house, Lisette paced the floors of the hospital surgical wing. Waiting. Waiting. She had company. Mazie and J.B. were there, too, but they were huddled together in the family lounge, promising each other that Mazie’s brother and Jonathan’s best friend was going to make it.

  Thinking about the surgery made Lisette ill. Somewhere nearby a surgeon was drilling a hole in her husband’s skull, attempting to clip off the blood supply to the bulging pocket in a vessel or an artery. The specifics were hazy. She had tried to research the procedure, but the information she found had been so terrifying she decided ignorance was the best choice for now.

  Because Jonathan had been adamant about his decision to exclude Lisette, she had been forced to tell Mazie everything. Thankfully, J.B.’s and Mazie’s kindness had soothed the edges of her wretched heartbreak.

  Still, as soon as Jonathan was conscious, she would no longer be able to hang around. The thought was unbearable.

  The more she thought about it, though, the more determined she became to ignore his edict. Jonathan was only half of this relationship. She had a right to fight for him, and she would.
For a brief moment in Antigua, happiness had been in her grasp.

  She would get it back if she had to beat the stupid man over the head. He loved her. She had to believe that. His body had told her so again and again, even if he hadn’t managed the actual words.

  At long last, the surgery was over and Jonathan was moved to ICU.

  Mazie’s red-rimmed eyes telegraphed relief. “You go in first,” she said. “He’s out of it, and it will make you feel better.”

  Lisette hugged her tightly. “Thank you.” She slipped into the curtained cubicle and felt her heart shatter all over again. Jonathan looked so alone. So very far away. They had shaved a small section of his head, she knew that. A white bandage covered the wound.

  Carefully she pulled the single small chair closer to the side of the bed. She picked up the large male hand that wasn’t tethered to an IV. Curling her fingers around his, she spoke to him softly.

  “It’s me, Jonathan. Lizzy. Your wife. I know we played a charade, but I so badly wanted it to be real. I’ve loved you forever, it seems. When I thought you were dying, I didn’t know how I would go on. I decided I wanted to be with you for however long we had together. Now you’re angry and hurt, and I don’t know what to do. If you can hear me, please listen. You are mine, you stubborn man. I adore you, and I’m pretty sure you love me, too. I want to make a baby with you and a future. So I’m not letting you go.”

  She wanted to say more, but tears clogged her throat. Mazie had been generous to give her this time. Mazie and J.B. would want to come in, too.

  When she thought she could leave without embarrassing herself, she wiped her face and stood. All around her, machines beeped and whooshed. Jonathan lay still as death, not entirely out of the woods.

  Here and now, she resolved to fight. It would require patience and waiting for the right moment to help him see the truth. Not only that, she might have to play hardball to make him admit that he loved her. Maybe a little subterfuge on her part.

  All’s fair in love and war...

  Though it took every bit of strength she could muster, she walked out of his room, out of the hospital—but not out of his life.

  Eighteen

  One month later...

  Jonathan stood in front of Lisette’s condo and knocked carefully. His recovery had moved far too slowly for his satisfaction. And there had been bumps in the road. Today was the first time he’d been allowed behind the wheel of a car. And only now because he had told his sister he needed to see his wife.

  When Lisette opened the door, he drank in the sight of her. Her face was thinner, her gaze guarded. She didn’t seem too surprised. Maybe Mazie had tipped her off.

  “Hello, Lisette,” he said.

  “Come in.” She stepped back and waited for him to walk toward the living room.

  In the arched doorway, he jerked back, startled. There were moving boxes stacked neatly in two corners. “You’re leaving? I thought you loved this condo.”

  Lisette sat down in a chair and motioned for him to do the same. “I’m moving to Savannah. I have three job interviews lined up next week.”

  He was stunned. What had he expected? That she was going to wait on him to quit being a giant pain in the ass? Her announcement left him off script and reeling.

  When he couldn’t come up with a response to her news, she pointed to a small pile on the coffee table. “The wedding band and engagement ring are in the boxes. Your lawyer drew up papers nullifying our prenup. I’ve signed everything. All you have to do is add your signature and file the documents. I cleaned out my desk at work and turned in keys. If I’ve forgotten anything, feel free to text me.”

  At last he found his voice. “You can’t dissolve the prenup without my consent.”

  “Actually, I can. The agreement was predicated on your diagnosis of terminal cancer. Since that no longer applied, everything else was off the table. Your lawyer agreed, but of course, feel free to discuss it with her.”

  “And what about your termination package from Tarleton Shipping?”

  Her eyelids flickered as though his barb had hit some unseen mark. “I turned in my original resignation letter. I wasn’t entitled to severance.”

  He gripped the arms of the chair, trying not to grab her up and kiss her until her calm facade cracked. “I’m sorry, Lizzy. So damned sorry. That night we returned from our honeymoon was a terrible time in my life...even worse than the day they told me I had cancer. I wasn’t myself. Please forgive me.”

  She stared at the rug. “Nothing to forgive. You were in shock. It’s understandable.”

  “I love you,” he said, feeling desperate because she was slipping away. Irrevocably.

  This time she looked straight at him, but it was as if she hadn’t heard what he said. “You should know that I’ve talked to Hartley multiple times in the last few weeks. He’s been extremely worried about you, and I thought he should have as much information as possible.”

  Jonathan blinked. The old feelings of anger and betrayal tried to take hold. “I don’t know why my brother did what he did, but I won’t be batshit crazy about it anymore. Looking death in the face has a way of rearranging a man’s priorities.”

  “I’m glad to know that. I hope the two of you can reconcile some day.”

  “Did you hear me?” Jonathan said hoarsely. “I told you I love you.”

  She shook her head slowly. Those translucent green eyes held pain he had put there. “You’ve had plenty of opportunities to tell me that over the years and you never said it. Even on our honeymoon when we were as close as two people can be, you didn’t say it. You liked having sex with me. I know that. But it’s two different things.”

  He stood up, no longer able to contain his nervous energy. “I do love you,” he said. “The only reason I didn’t say anything earlier was because I thought you would grieve more when I was gone if you knew.”

  “That’s an interesting theory,” she said, her smile more wry than sarcastic. “You’re a closed-off man, Jonathan. Aloof. Afraid of letting anyone get close. You love your sister and your father and J.B., but even with them, you didn’t want to share the news that you had cancer. You wanted to handle everything on your own. The only person who has ever really known you intimately is your twin brother. And now you’ve locked him out of your life, too.”

  “I asked you for help.”

  She shook her head slowly. “Only because you saw me as an uninterested bystander. You thought I could be impartial. Unbiased. You needed me to be a buffer between you and the rest of the world.”

  “It’s not true.” He scraped his hands through his hair, his fingers brushing unwittingly over the bumpy scar that would always be a reminder. “Okay, maybe I told you that. I may have even thought I believed it. But in Antigua, I let myself see the real you. I wasn’t your boss anymore. I was your lover.” He hesitated. “Do you remember that day on the boat?”

  Lisette’s eyes widened as if aghast he would bring it up. “Of course I remember it,” she said. “It was the best moment of our trip, right up until it wasn’t. But I’m not sure why we’re rehashing the details. You could have died in front of me. I’ve never been so terrified.”

  “I can’t forget, either,” he said slowly, pausing at the window but not really seeing the view. “I watched you sitting in the bow of the boat...laughing, beautiful, so damned happy. I knew then that I loved you. Whether you believe me or not, I decided that when we got home I was going to try one more time to see if there were any last-ditch treatments. Any hope at all.”

  He turned to face her. “I wanted to fight, Lizzy. Because I realized I loved you. When Dr. Shapiro told us the truth, I knew you and I had a chance.”

  “But then you found my letter.”

  He grimaced. “It was bad timing all the way around. I had admitted to myself that I loved you, but suddenly I realized you had sacrificed
a portion of your life for me out of what appeared to be duty or compassion. I wanted to set you free. So I deliberately pushed you away.”

  He’d given it his all, every ounce of truth. He’d put his heart on the line. But nothing in her expression changed. If anything, she had retreated into herself. Perhaps she learned that move from him.

  “Say something,” he demanded.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said softly, her eyes shiny with tears. “Think back, Jonathan. You loved your life before you got sick. You adored the pressure-cooker environment, and you relished being in charge. You seldom dated, because you didn’t have the time to give to a relationship. Your future was all mapped out, and you liked it.”

  “I liked it because you were there with me.”

  She inhaled sharply. “I can’t be that woman anymore. Things have changed.”

  He crossed the room in two strides and pulled her to her feet, gripping her hands tightly. “Then I’ll change, too. The night I was so cruel to you, you said you loved me. Is it not true anymore? Is that one of the changes my selfishness caused?”

  * * *

  Lisette had used up her last reserves of courage. When Mazie told her Jonathan was coming to see her, it seemed like a personal challenge. Was she going to fight for him? She was tired of making sacrifices for other people, tired of hiding her feelings.

  The moving ruse was a way to needle him, but if things didn’t work out, it would become a reality.

  The past month had seemed like a desert journey. She had grieved the loss of Jonathan endlessly...had scrounged for any tiny scraps of information about his recovery.

  When he was dismissed from the hospital, it was even worse. Then all she could do was imagine him out at the beach house, sleeping in the bed that was supposed to be theirs.

  Now here he was, saying things and doing things that were too enchanting to be true.