"Your email was light on details," she says, removing her gloves with practiced precision. "I'd like to know exactly what you're proposing before we go any further."
A server appears, and Judith orders a gin and tonic without consulting me. Another subtle challenge.Interesting.
"It's simple," I say once we're alone again. "I need a wife on paper to secure my inheritance. You need a husband for reasons you haven't shared. We get married, live together for the required time, then go our separate ways once the land transfer is complete."
"And when would that be?" she asks, her tone businesslike.
"The deadline is Christmas. We'd need to be married within the week and remain so until at least December 26th."
"A Christmas wedding." Her lips curve slightly. "How romantic."
"This isn't about romance." I lean forward, making sure she understands. "This is a business arrangement. I need a wife on paper. Nothing more."
"And living arrangements?" She accepts her drink from the returning server with a smile that transforms her face, making something tighten in my chest.
"You'd stay at my cabin. I have a guest room."
"On your mountain?" She takes a delicate sip of her drink. "Far from civilization."
"If that's a problem, we can end this conversation now." I don't soften my tone. Better she knows exactly what she's getting into.
Her eyes narrow slightly. "I'm just establishing the parameters. You live alone in a remote cabin, and you expect me to move in with a complete stranger for five weeks."
"Four weeks, if we're married by the end of this week." I pull out the contract I've drafted and slide it across the table. "All the details are here. Compensation, expectations, privacy agreements. I'm not looking for anything beyond what's specified."
She takes the contract but doesn't open it, studying me instead. "And what assurance do I have that you're not some psychopath luring women to remote locations?"
"You don't." I hold her gaze. "Just as I have no assurance you're not after more than the compensation I'm offering."
A tense silence stretches. Her eyes never leave mine, and I’m reluctantly impressed. Most people can't maintain eye contact with me for more than a few seconds.
"I have references," she finally says. "People who can vouch for me."
"As do I." I nod toward the bar where Silas has just entered, right on schedule. "My lawyer, for one."
She glances over, then back at me. "You arranged for your lawyer to conveniently appear during our meeting?"
"I like to be thorough."
"So do I." She finally opens the contract, scanning the first page with the sharp focus of someone who's used to reading fine print. "These terms are quite...detailed."
"I don't believe in misunderstandings."
She flips to the second page, and her eyebrows rise slightly. "You expect me to follow house rules?"
"My cabin, my rules." I shrug unapologetically. "As I said, if that's a problem?—"
"I didn't say it was a problem." She closes the contract. "I just find it interesting that you've included a clause requiring me to 'follow instructions regarding safety and property maintenance' without specifying what those might be."
"The mountains are dangerous for those unfamiliar with them." I finish my bourbon. "I won't have time to write out every possible scenario where I might need you to follow directions without question."
"Without question." She repeats, something sparking in her eyes. Not anger, exactly. More like...challenge. "I assume this control extends to all aspects of the arrangement?"
The way she says "control" sends a jolt of awareness through me. Her tone suggests she understands more than she's letting on.
"The arrangement is clearly defined in the contract." I keep my voice level. "I'm not looking for complications."
"Neither am I." She tucks the contract into her handbag. "I'll need time to review this properly."
