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“My paternal uncle was a very rich man who’d made a wide range of very lucrative investments. Hugh set up trust funds for me and my two brothers. He left each of us stocks, shares, money, properties, and even art. But there’s a clause. Like my brothers, I can’t access the trust fund … until I’m married.”
“But, why?”
Dane sipped his coffee. “Hugh never married. He was all about work. And it wasn’t until later in life that he regretted it. He used to ask me what the point was in him having such a massive home when there was only him to live in it. The closest thing he had to children of his own was my brothers and me. He encouraged us to work hard and be successful but to not neglect our personal lives. He didn’t want us to make the same mistakes that he did.”
“Hence the clause.”
“Yes. There’s also another snag. If by the time I reach the age of thirty-eight I’m not married, the assets in my trust fund will be divided between my brothers.”
Which, essentially, pressured him to do as his uncle wished. “Wow. He really wanted you guys to get married.”
“More, he wanted to ensure that we didn’t wait until late in our lives before we found someone to share that life with. It worked with Travis and Kent. They both married young.”
“Is it normal for people to attach conditions to trust funds?”
“It’s not uncommon. I know someone who couldn’t access theirs unless they married someone of a certain religion. Hugh wasn’t so much fussed about who we married as he was about when we married.”
“You’re thirty-seven now,” I recalled.
“Yes. And I’m no more interested in marriage now than I ever have been. I don’t even have any interest in a relationship.”
“So you’re getting married purely to gain access to your trust fund?”
Dane shrugged. “There are more fickle reasons to get married. It’s not about the money, Vienna. Hugh left me things that have sentimental value to me. They’re mine. And I don’t like the idea of any of the assets ending up in Travis’s hands. He’d gamble most of them away, and his wife, Hope, would squander the rest. Kent said he’d hand me his share since it’s rightfully mine, but I can’t be sure he truly would.”
I nodded. “Okay. I get it.” And it wasn’t my stuff, so I wasn’t in a position to say what the best way would be to deal with the situation, was I?
Watching me closely, Dane lifted his mug and took another sip of his coffee. “I want you to do something for me.”
If he asked me to pick out wedding invitations or something, I so wouldn’t be pleased. I could support him getting married, but I still didn’t like the idea of him shacked up with someone else. Apparently, my measly crush hadn’t been so measly after all. “What?”
“Marry me.”
My lips parted, and I stared at him. “You’re not joking, are you?” It wasn’t a question; it was a shocked whisper. Dane did not joke.
“It’ll only be for show. We won’t need to stay married very long.” He lifted his brow. “I warned you I’d one day call in my favor.”
Yes, he had. But I hadn’t ever imagined he’d ask this of me. My heart started to beat faster, and my ribs suddenly felt too tight. “Dane …”
“You said you’d return the favor when the time came.”
I had, because I’d been so damn grateful to him. My asshole-ex, bitter after our separation, had secretly filmed us having sex, and he’d threatened to post the video online if I didn’t do as he dictated. And what had he wanted? For me to either pay him a substantial sum of money I didn’t have or to sexually perform in front of a videocam for him.
I’d heard that sextortion went on, but I hadn’t believed I’d ever be a victim of it. I’d known that if the secret video he’d taken of us ever went live on the internet, I’d lose everything. I’d literally felt my world coming apart around me.
Dane had overheard me arguing with my ex-boyfriend on the phone. He’d demanded the details and promised me he’d “take care of it.” A day later, he’d announced that the video no longer existed and that my ex would never bother me again. I’d asked Dane what exactly he’d done to fix the matter, but he’d been very vague. We hadn’t spoken of it since.
“Are you going to go back on your word?” he asked.
I licked my lips. “Dane, you’re a highly sought-after guy. You don’t need to call in a favor to get a woman to marry you.”
“I don’t want the emotional complications of a real marriage. I like being alone. I want someone who’ll play the part of my wife and then sign the divorce papers quietly when it’s over. That’s all. But it needs to look real, because Travis and Hope are salivating after my trust fund—they figure it’s a done deal that they’ll get his share of it. If they can prove the marriage is fake, they will.”
