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At that, Warren actually smiled, a tilting of his lips that lanced her through the stomach as sharply as if he’d actually touched her.
“That sounds vaguely like it should be a compliment. Don’t worry about me. I can handle a few months of no intimacy.”
The way he caressed the term with his American accent did not settle the swirl still heating her core after being treated to his smile. One minute into their business discussion about resolving the issue with her visa her body had already betrayed her. She cleared her throat. “And when my visa is renewed, we will dissolve the marriage.”
He nodded. “An annulment. My lawyers will take care of everything. I’ve already laid out the pertinent points to them in an email. I just need your agreement before I hit Send.”
This was moving far too fast. She could feel the threads of control slipping from her fingers. If she married Warren, he could easily change his mind about the no-intimacy clause. They’d be legally married and she hadn’t a clue what kind of recourse she might have if he decided they would consummate the marriage whether she liked it or not.
If he knew she wore racy lingerie beneath her staid suits, would he change his mind?
She shook off those thoughts. Warren wasn’t offering this solution so he could take advantage of her. They’d worked together late into the night many times, long after the last of his employees had gone home. He’d never been anything but the soul of propriety, which was why she loved this job. He listened to her, valued her opinion. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have gone to these lengths to keep her on the project.
That alone went a long way. Her knees might be weak at the thought of putting herself at his mercy. But she was also continuing in a positive environment that was good for her battered psyche.
There wasn’t really a choice. She could never accept her employer’s mistake and take the offered job in Melbourne. She’d have to agree to become Warren’s bride by contract.
The thought unleashed a shiver she couldn’t control. They’d be living together. Wouldn’t they? How could they convince the authorities they were married unless she moved into his house? But that would make it so much harder to keep her normally vivacious personality under wraps, lest she accidentally give Warren the impression she welcomed his advances.
The complications rose up in her throat like a big black rock, cutting off her air.
“Tell me what you’re thinking, Tilda.” Warren’s quiet voice cut through her angst easily. “Do you want to keep this job or go back to Australia? If it’s the former, let’s work through this from the top and mitigate all of the potential landmines.”
As frequently as they’d been on the same wavelength over the course of this project, it shouldn’t be such a shock that he’d picked up on her reservations. Could he see the panic, too? Surely not.
She’d tried hard to hide what was really going on beneath the surface for the entire length of their acquaintance, adopting the granite-hard professionalism that she’d been convinced no one could crack.
Warren Garinger managed to crack it without breaking a sweat. Likely without even realizing it. This was her opportunity to retake control.
“All right.” Deep breath. “I want to keep this job.”
That meant she had to take the issue of her visa seriously and consider his offer. Marriage. It was a dizzying proposition, rife with pitfalls, both legal and personal.
But still viable, nonetheless.
“Good. I want you to keep it. What else concerns you about this plan?”
Oh, God, everything about this plan concerned her. One hurdle at a time. “No issues with your wife working for you?”
“None. This is a family company through and through. Thomas’s wife is head of accounting and all of the shareholders are named Garinger.” Warren flashed her another brief smile. “If you like, I would be happy to give you a block of shares as a wedding present.”
She swallowed as the black rock grew in her throat. The gesture had probably been an act of good faith, but no one had ever offered to make her a part of a family with such decisiveness. It felt…nice. She got to belong for no other reason than because Warren said so. She nodded, since speaking wasn’t possible.
“What else?” he prodded gently. “I have a master suite at my house that connects to a smaller bedroom via the bathroom. The door locks from the other side. You may have that one or one on the first floor if you like. My staff is paid well to exercise discretion, so we don’t need to worry about them tattling to the immigration bureau that the marriage is fake. Of course, we will need to put on some appearances as if we’re happily married.”
