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She scowled. “All three.”
“I haven’t done anything that could get either of us into trouble.”
Not recently, anyway.
“You do know I can’t pay you.” Her eyes darkened further. They were the closest thing to purple I’d seen on a human, and I fought the urge to drag her to the window, to natural sunlight, and take a picture of them to see what they’d look like behind my lens.
“I don’t need your money.”
She curved an eyebrow, giving me a slow once-over. Daphne was unapologetically money oriented, which was a huge turnoff. At least there was no risk for us to truly get along. “I do beg to differ.”
“Look, Poppins, you wanna get hitched or not?”
“Not,” she answered decisively and then, after a beat, rolled her eyes. “But I’m afraid I must. First, I want you to tell me what made you change your mind.”
She wasn’t going to let it go, and I wasn’t in the mood to do this song and dance for the next couple of hours. Plus, I needed to get out of her office. It smelled like a candle shop.
“If you must know, I need a fiancée as an excuse to keep me in New York for a while. Work stuff.”
“Oh, you have a job. Marvelous.” She seemed surprised. “What do you do?”
“I’m a photographer forDiscoverymagazine.”
She popped one eyebrow. Clearly, the answer she’d expected was trafficking small children and deadly drugs across the border. “And having a wife would help you, how?”
“My boss won’t be able to spring an eight-month stint in deep Alaska on me. Apparently, it’s an assignment fit for a single person without responsibilities. I need a responsibility. Some baggage. That’s where you come into the picture.”
She stared at me with the enthusiasm of an inmate on death row. “I’ve always wanted to be someone’s burden.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I’m sure you already are.”
Shaking her head, she groaned. “So how do you see this working?”
Her hostility was low-key turning me on. I’d never met someone so immune to my charms, to my looks; this woman honestly only cared about high fashion and men with deep wallets. If only she knew she was standing in front of a man who was worth more than this entire block and its retailers combined.
“By setting expectations and some ground rules.” I opened my arms wide.
“Rules.” She tapped her chin, frowning. “I do enjoy rules.”
“Shocking.”
“You’re quite rude, you know.”
“You called me a loser,” I reminded her.
“How else would you describe a man who conducts an affair with a married woman?”
“Horny,” I replied flatly, raising my palms in the air. “Guilty as charged, by the way.”
“Unbelievable.” She tipped her head back, closing her eyes. “Your rules. Start listing them, please.”
“First—no catching feelings. I’m terrible husband material. I’m not a bad guy. But I’m not a faithful one either. I can barely stay in a committed relationship with my inner organs, let alone another human. And there’s definitely no reliable bones in my body. If we get married, I need you to remember it’s all for show. I’ll be free to engage in extracurricular activities with other people and travel as I please.”
She stared at me with an odd look on her face before letting out a raspy, sexy laugh.
“Dear God, you’re serious.” She cupped her mouth. “Rest assured, Mr. Bates, I’m in no danger of ever becoming infatuated with you.”
This woman was not great for my ego. The amount of humble pie she shoved into my mouth was making me nauseous.
