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“Why are you doing this?” She shifted, swaying a tad as her daughter grew restless, struggling in her mum’s arms. It was clear the little girl wanted to get down and play.
He wasn’t certain himself, so he lied and used the same reason his brother had with his wife. “To claim my inheritance from my grandfather, I need a wife. It’s a stipulation in the will. I have to be married for one year to inherit what the old bugger left me.”
Suspicion rolled off her in waves as she scowled. “We just met. I attempted to steal from you. Why do you want to marry someone like me? Do you really think you can trust me?”
No, he didn’t trust her, not completely. He’d be a moron if he did that. But anyone who wouldn’t think twice about throwing themselves in front of their child to protect them wasn’t a bad person. She was simply in a tight spot trying to provide for her kid and made a mistake. He wouldn’t send a person to the gallows for attempting to survive. “Look, if you agree, I’ll make it worth your while. At the end of the year, I’ll ensure you and your daughter never want for a thing ever again.”
“I don’t know.” She glanced at her kid, indecision written across her solemn face.
He should let her go. He should give her the cash in his money clip and send her on her way with a good riddance. And he couldn’t explain why the next words left his lips. “Agree, and I will ensure you want for nothing for the rest of your days. Promise me one year, and at the end of that year, I’ll give you a quick and clean divorce along with a house of your choosing wherever in the world you would like and twenty million dollars.”
Her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped open. She sputtered, “You can’t be serious?”
“I am. I’ll even have my cousin, who’s a solicitor, draw up a contract with a nondisclosure agreement attached, so we keep the details of our arrangement between us. We’ll make our agreement official, signed and notarized, with each of us having a copy.”
“And what will you expect from me in return?” She asked, frowning with pure distrust stamped across her features.
He watched the wheels turn in her mind. But her question had him studying her more closely. He’d made it his mission in life to know what made women tick and how to bring them pleasure. And he couldn’t help imagining where he’d start with her, likely trust-building exercises in a slow and steady fashion until a single word from him had her kneeling at his feet. “You mean, will I expect anything from you in the bedroom?”
Her cheeks reddened at the query, but she nodded affirmatively. “Yes. Will you require me to perform wifely duties?”
Hmm. Interesting. The idea did not repulse her. Instead, her gaze caressed his body when she asked as if she wouldn’t be averse to sharing his bed. He wasn’t particularly into vanilla sex, but in her case, he’d make an exception. “Nothing you don’t wish to freely give. We can leave for my cabin immediately. I can have my solicitor get started on the marriage contract in the morning, along with passports for you both.”
Indecision left her frozen. So he added, “Why don’t you come eat some lunch?” She was far too skinny for his liking, like she had gone without a fair share of meals. “It will give you time to decide—um, what’s your name, lass?”
“Freya Meyer.” She blurted and then blushed profusely, turning almost as red as her hair.
She got more interesting by the minute. It had been a good long while since a woman had held his attention. With her fierce spirit, her name was fitting.
“Freya.” He rolled her name over his tongue, liking the sound of it. “Why don’t you come into the kitchen, and we’ll get this sorted. You can leave the playpen in here, and we’ll retrieve it later.”
“So you’re not going to call the cops?” she asked, still suspicious of his motives.
“No. Come. Don’t make me ask you twice.” He infused his voice with firmness because they could go round and round on this point unless he took command and steered the situation to his liking. He gestured toward the door for her to follow and exited his office.
With her daughter in her arms, a cute little thing with hair the color of the sunset and sky-blue eyes that reminded him of the sky over Scotland at midday, she followed him out and down the hallway to the kitchen.
He was rather stunned by the afternoon’s turn of events. He never figured he would ask a woman he barely knew to marry him.
And all because of a kiss he never should have received.
3
Marry him? Was the guy clinically insane?
Who asked someone they’d just met to marry them? She’d tell you who did stuff like that—crazy people.
Holding Maddie close, Freya didn’t know what to think or how to feel about his offer. He was only a few years older than she, by her reckoning, maybe in his early thirties. He could be English, but with a name like Campbell would bet what cash she had left he was Scottish.
His voice was sex personified. His Scottish brogue in that sexy baritone made his words sound like a caress. And when he spoke, the potent vibrations shivered through her body down into her toes. A man like him was dangerous to her sensibilities. A hypothesis proven by that reckless kiss. And what a kiss! Her body still hummed with illicit desire.
But she had sworn long ago that she would never be taken in by a charming, handsome face again. She’d done that once.
Holding Maddie close in case she needed to make a break for it, she asked, “What’s your name?”
He cast an arched stare as he rounded the kitchen island and faced her. “Jasper Campbell, at your service. And who is this little lassie?” He nodded toward her daughter. Maddie stared at him in fascination. Like mother, like daughter. But it could just be she wasn’t used to being around men that much, and definitely not one this enormous.
“This is Maddie.” Freya said her name, and her daughter grinned like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard.
