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‘But how will I pay you back?’ she asked. And he had to bite his tongue.
He mustn’t become frustrated with her, not again. Her insecurity—like his driving ambition—had stemmed from the scars inflicted on both of them that summer. He knew she could do this, but she did not, and until she did he would have to be her mentor, her supporter. Gently nudging her in the right direction until each new success showed her how much she could achieve. Confidence didn’t happen overnight—confidence had to be built, brick by tortuous brick. He’d discovered that when building his own business, so now he could show her while she built hers.
‘You won’t pay me back,’ he said, but before she could protest he held up his hand. ‘Wait, let me explain. The money isn’t a gift, or a pay-off, like the alimony payment I was proposing. I intend to get a handsome return on my money, eventually, once the brand is established. We’ll make a formal agreement and, for my investment, I want a fifty per cent share of the profits.’
‘But what will I be giving to the business that entitles me to fifty per cent?’ she said, the frown on her face so adorable he wanted to kiss it. ‘I haven’t got any money to invest in it.’
She really was clueless about how business worked. Why did that make the thought of going into business with her all the more exciting?
‘Your contribution is your time and your talent,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid I’m going to be far too busy with the Waterfront project here to be anything more than a silent partner. And I know absolutely nothing about fashion.’
‘But what if I fail?’ she said, and his heart cracked at the tremble of uncertainty.
He stifled the foolish feeling of empathy. This was business, just like their marriage, there was no place for sentiment—but even so he kept his voice gentle. ‘If you fail, I write the investment off as an expense and reduce my tax burden. Either way, it is a win-win for me financially.’
But she wasn’t going to fail. She had the talent, according to Megan, to be a success. The only thing holding her back would be lack of business expertise—which he could supply her with—and her own fear of failure.
And if there was one thing he could show her how to do, it was how to conquer that fear.
‘So, what do you say? Do you want to go into business with me, Madame LeGrand?’
She pressed a hand over her breast, as if she were trying to stop her heart jumping out of her chest. He knew how she felt, because he’d felt the same way when he’d signed his first deal with the precious stake he’d earned working round the clock as a cycle courier in Paris.
‘I’m terrified,’ she said, her honesty so captivating he struggled not to kiss her.
‘Only terrified?’ he asked.
‘And also excited,’ she admitted. Hope sparked in her eyes, and found an answering spark in his heart.
‘So is that a yes?’ he asked, needing the clarification.
‘Yes—yes, it is!’ she said.
‘Magnifique!’
She laughed and grasped his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around her waist and spun her round in a circle.
‘Congratulations, Madame LeGrand,’ he said as he finally put her down, absorbing the delicious echo in his groin as her body pressed against his.
‘Thank you. Thank you for suggesting this,’ she said, her face alight with exhilaration. ‘It’s a brilliant solution.’
‘Yes, I know,’ he said, and she laughed again, the sound sweet and carefree.
He slanted his mouth across hers, his pulse pounding in his ears when her eager response turned the kiss from hungry to ravenous in a heartbeat.
He scooped her into his arms.
‘Dominic, what are you doing?’ she asked, breathlessly as he carried he
r back into the bedroom.
‘Celebrating,’ he said, although he thought that much was obvious.
It wasn’t till much later though, as he headed down to his offices to get the legal team involved in setting up the new business, while Alison called Megan to talk about coming on board as an investor, that it occurred to him he wasn’t even sure what made him smile the most.
The hum in his groin from the celebratory sex they’d just shared; the thought that the first stage of the Waterfront deal would be signed later today; the realisation he would be able to keep his fake wife, without any regrets; or the thought of the months ahead, when he would be able to help Alison blossom and grow into the woman she was always meant to be—both in bed and in business.
Now they had established trust and secure boundaries to their relationship—ensuring there would be no more messy heart-to-hearts about their feelings or about things that had happened so long ago they no longer mattered—their marriage could progress as originally planned.
