Cross Check (Marriage Contract #1) (9 page)

“What does my dad have to do with all this?” I ask him.

“If we were to get married, Frank would be a part of the
family,” Jay says lightly, “And as a part of the family, he’d be provided for,
too. He could stay here in the cottage, never have to work another day in his
life, live in total comfort. Wouldn’t you like that for him?”

I blink back sudden tears at this wonderful idea. If I
accepted Jay’s offer, my dad could retire. Spend the rest of his life taking it
easy, enjoying himself. After all those years of backbreaking labor, Frank
could finally rest. More than anything else Jay’s mentioned so far, this would
definitely be the thing to persuade me. And Jay knows it, too.

“Here’s what I’m proposing. Other than marriage, that is,”
Jamison says, taking my hands in his, “You let me spend the next two weeks
showing you exactly what being my wife would be like. You can’t give me an
informed answer until you know exactly what you’d be passing up, am I right?”

“I guess that makes a kind of sense…” I allow, easing into
the idea.

“I think so too,” he smiles, rubbing a thumb against the
back of my hand, “So, first things first. You’ll stay at my place in the city
for the next few weeks.”

“Your place?!” I exclaim.

“That’s right,” he affirms, enjoying my bafflement.

“But… What about my apartment? My things?”

“I’ll cover the rent on your apartment. And we’ll send for
your things.”

“Well…What about Gigi?” I spout nonsensically.

“Who the hell is Gigi?” Jay asks, his brow creasing in
confusion.

“She’s my…uh…cat,” I mutter, blushing like mad.

A roaring bark of laughter rips out of Jamison’s throat.

“Your cat?! Jesus, Brody, I didn’t realize you were that far
gone into spinster-dom.”

“Oh, fuck off,” I tell him, smiling despite myself.

“I’m sure Gigi will like it just fine at my place, you crazy
cat lady,” Jay teases me, laying his hands on my shoulders, “Any other
objections you wanna cook up, or can we do this?”

I gaze up at Jamison’s handsome, familiar face. This whole
situation is so comprehensively insane that making a reasonable decision is
damn near impossible. We’re way beyond reason or logic, by now. All I can do
now is see this predicament through. If the way forward is giving Jamison
King’s lifestyle a spin…well, I can think of worse fates.

“I guess…I’m all out of objections,” I tell him, “Cat lady
jab aside.”

“So is that a yes, then?” he presses, running his hands down
my sides, “You’ll come and stay with me?”

“I will,” I tell him, “As long as you can assure me that
this little arrangement won’t interfere with our work at King Enterprises.”

“Not at all,” Jay smiles, “In fact, this’ll make it that
much easier for you to train me. I
am
King Enterprise’s newest creative
exec, after all.”

“Well shit,” I say, shaking my head in wonder, “This should
definitely make for good gossip around the water cooler, huh?”

“Around the water cooler?” he laughs, “Try around the world,
Brody.”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me,” I wince.

Jay’s been a celebrity in his own right since he was
twenty-two-year-old NHL rookie. Hell, even before that he was a home town hot
shot with a famous family. He’s had thirty years to get used to the spotlight.
But me? I’ve been working behind the scenes this whole time for a reason. I’ve
never been comfortable being the center of attention. But Jay’s like the sun
itself—just being in his orbit is going to throw a light on me for all the
world to see.

As if this whole thing wasn’t terrifying—and
exciting—enough.

Chapter Seven

Showing up to work on Monday morning is one of the more
surreal experiences of my life. The offices of King Enterprises are exactly as
I left them the week before, but even as I sit down at familiar desk, it’s with
the knowledge that everything else about my life if changing. By the time the
work day is over, all of my possessions will have been moved from my apartment
on Riverside Drive to the Jamison’s place in the West Village. For the next two
weeks, I’ll be sharing in the life of my billionaire pseudo-suitor, the
mysterious Jamison King.

And I have no idea what will come of it.

As if it weren’t enough that Jay is turning my life outside
the office on its head, he’s also causing quite a stir at work, as well. The
second he and I show up to King Enterprises together on Monday, fresh from the
rooftop helipad, the gossip mill goes into full swing. The significant glances
and whispered remarks from our coworkers begin immediately, and I’m sure they
have all kinds of ideas about my relationship to the late boss’s son. Man. If
they only knew half of the real story, those smug grins would be wiped right
off their faces.

For his part, Jamison is
loving
the attention. He
strolls into King Enterprises like he already owns the place. I have to admit,
he looks the part in his perfectly cut charcoal gray suit. Jay’s dark blonde
hair strikes the perfect balance between swept-back and tousled, the stubble
along his jaw defiantly still in place. His look telegraphs to the entire
company that while he means business, his being here is still a changing of the
guard. He’s not going to be afraid to shake things up at King Enterprises. That
means it falls to me to keep him in check.

Naturally.

“So, what’s on the docket, boss?” Jay asks as we step into a
conference room. “Gimme the lay of the land.”

“Well,” I explain, waving Pippa in as she appears at the
door with fresh coffee, “The main thing I’m working on right now is the
Huntress
of Tomorrow
adaptation, so—”

“And who might this be?” Jamison grins, eyeing my assistant
as she ducks into the conference room.

“This is my assistant, Pippa McBride,” I tell him, happily
accepting the mug of coffee she hands me.

“Nice to meet you, Pippa,” Jay says, offering his hand to
the young woman, “I’m Jamison King.”

“Oh, I know who you are,” Pippa replies dreamily, placing a
mug in the hand Jamison meant for her to shake. I suppress a fond chuckle at
her mistake. Pippa’s a very diligent assistant, but her people skills leave a
little bit to be desired.

“Well. I look forward to getting to know you better,”
Jamison tells her, his eyes hard on her eye-eyed face. “See you around, Pips.”

Pippa smiles shyly, shooting me a guilty look as she hurries
out of the room. I cock an eyebrow at Jamison as my assistant flees the scene.

“Seriously, Jay?” I say wryly, “Don’t tell me I have to give
you an office sexual harassment lecture on your first day here.”

“I was just being friendly,” he shrugs, running a fingertip
around the rim of his coffee mug, “I can’t help it if women find me charming.”

“No, of course not,” I reply sarcastically, “It’s not like
you encourage them at all.”

“Leah Brody, do you get jealous when I flirt with other
women?” Jay challenges me.

“So you admit you were flirting with Pippa just then?” I try
to catch him.

“I flirt with everyone,” he shrugs, “It’s just how I move
through the world.”

“That’s a strange thing to admit to the woman you’re trying
to put a ring on,” I point out, taking a much-needed sip of coffee.

Jamison leans back in his chair, looking genuinely
surprised. “Why is that strange?” he asks, “I’m trying to convince you to enter
into a professional agreement with me that happens to involve marriage. It’s
like not like I’m expecting this thing to be monogamous or anything.”

Now it’s
my
turn to be surprised.

“Right. Of course not,” I say quickly, trying to hide my
misunderstanding, “That would be
crazy
.”

“Oh,” Jay says, raising his eyebrows, “I guess we never
talked about that, did we?”

“It’s fine,” I press on, “Of course, any marriage we entered
into would be open.”

“That’s what I was assuming, yeah,” Jay replies, brows
furrowing ever-so-slightly, “Would that be… a problem for you?”

“I mean…I admit, it hadn’t occurred to me,” I stammer,
staring very intently at my cup of coffee, “But no, of course that wouldn't be
a problem for me. It’s not like we’re in a romantic relationship or anything.”

“Right,” Jay agrees, “That was my feeling on the matter.”

“Great. Glad we got that cleared up,” I say brightly,
praying to god for a subject change.

“I didn’t mean to spring that on you,” Jay goes on, reaching
for my hand on the table, “I just figured it was a given.”

“Seriously, Jay. I don’t care,” I tell him firmly, “I was
just taken aback for a second, but of course, an open marriage would make the
most sense for us. Hypothetically.”

“Hypothetically…” he murmurs, lacing his fingers through
mine, “That’s quickly becoming my least favorite word.”

“Well, until you convince me otherwise, this whole
getting-hitched thing is still firmly in the realm of the hypothetical,” I
remind him.

“I’ll just have to step up my game, then,” Jay smiles,
leaning in closer across the conference table.

I glance through the glass walls of the conference room,
watching as a dozen sets of eyes dart suddenly away. So much for not feeding
the gossip trolls.

“Why don’t we just get back to work and save the wooing for
after hours, OK?” I tell Jamison, plucking my hand away from his.

“I can live with that,” he smiles coolly, leaning back in
his chair, “Why don’t you tell me more about this
Huntress of Tomorrow
or whateverthefuck?”

Once we actually get to work, I’m frankly amazed at how many
good ideas Jamison is able to contribute to the discussion. As tentative as I
am about giving him any kind of creative control over my pet project, I start
to really enjoy bouncing ideas off of him. By the end of the work day, we’re
geeking out about the
Huntress of Tomorrow
project like a couple of
excited kids. Go figure, right? Fantastical stories were always our common
ground.

“Is it closing time already?” Jay asks, watching through the
glass conference room walls as our coworkers shuffle off toward the elevators.

“That it is,” I tell him, snapping out of our collaborative
trance.

The day absolutely flew by as we brainstormed together. I
thought that having Jamison around would be incredibly distracting, but I made
a ton of progress today in figuring out my what my exact pitch to the
Huntress
of Tomorrow
author Elsie Walker will be. I want to present her with a
clear, precise vision for the upcoming movie trilogy based on her novels, and
after today I feel closer than ever to that vision.

“So, what happens now?” I ask Jamison, gathering up my
things, “Do we just head back to the West Village and putter around your
brownstone, pretending this whole situation isn’t incredibly weird?”

“Not exactly what I had in mind,” Jay laughs, wrinkling his
nose.

“Well, what then?” I ask, slinging my purse onto my
shoulder.

“Just relax, Brody,” he says, wrapping an arm around my
waist, “And let me show you what the life of a King is all about.”

***

My first evening as an honorary King begins familiarly
enough. Jamison escorts me from the King Enterprises building over to
DeLeonardo’s for a nice Italian dinner. The second we walk through the doors
together, it feels like the entire restaurant has turned around to stare at us.
I’m getting a crash course in being the center of attention, that’s for sure.
And who better to teach me than the world-famous Jamison King?

“Leah! Jamison!” I hear a familiar voice gush, “I’m so happy
to see you, after everything that’s happened…”

The sympathetic face of Franco, our maî
tre d
’,
appears at my shoulder as he ushers us away from the prying eyes of the main
dining room.

“Thanks, Franco,” Jamison says, laying a guiding hand on the
small of my back as we make our way through the restaurant, “We appreciate it.”

We’re a “we” now?
I think to myself, as I slide into
the King family’s usual cushioned booth. Despite the unconventional aspects of
our relationship, Jamison and I
are
united in the loss of Loudon and
Priscilla King. A loss I feel more acutely than ever, sitting at this table
where I shared so many happy evenings with Jay’s father.

“Could we have two scotches, neat?” Jay says to Franco,
noting the sadness on my face.

“Certainly,” Franco murmurs, pressing a hand to his heart,
“Tonight, my friends, your drinks on the house. It’s the least we can do.”

I look around the dining room as Franco hurries away, trying
to distract myself from the sudden pang of grief twisting my heart.

“What do you want to bet this little outing makes Page Six
by the end of the week?” I say to Jamison.

“Oh, there’s no way it’ll take an entire week,” he laughs,
laying a hand on my knee.

“Not if you keep trying to feel me up in public,” I murmur
quietly, lifting my honey-brown eyes to his.

A slow smile lifts the corner of his full lips as his gaze
locks onto mine. We’re sitting side-by-side in a deep booth, tucked away in a
quiet corner of the otherwise bustling restaurant. And though no one can see us
from the waist down, thanks to the long tablecloth and dim lighting, I’m keenly
aware of Jay’s hand as it starts traveling ever further up my thigh.

“What are you doing?” I ask quickly, eyes widening as Jay’s
fingertips brush against the hem of my skirt.

“Just act natural,” Jay replies, his voice low and gravelly
as he glances casually across the dining room.

How the hell am I supposed to act natural as Jamison’s hand
slides under my skirt, caressing my inner thigh as a room full of people go
about their business all around us? My heart does a somersault as a waiter
appears before us, setting down our drinks as Jamison’s hand rests firmly
between my clenched thighs.

“Can I get you anything else to start?” the waiter asks
eagerly, looking back and forth between me and Jamison.

“Give us a few minutes, would you?” Jay replies, cool as
ever.

“Of course,” the waiter says, moving away.

“You’re crazy,” I whisper, as our server moves out of
earshot.

“You bet your ass I’m crazy,” Jay murmurs, edging closer so
that our sides are pressed flush against each other in the booth, “I’ve had to
keep my hands off you all day while we were together at the office. But now…”

I plant my hands firmly on the table as Jay pushes my legs
apart. As if of their own free will, my trembling knees part at this urgent
touch. With my heart lodged firmly in my throat, I open myself to him right
then and there. Jay lifts his drink to his lips as his fingers trace up along
my thigh, brushing against the fabric of my underwear. A low, rumbling groan
rises in Jay’s throat as he feels how wet I am for him.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who’s going a little
crazy,” he murmurs, letting me feel his fingertips as they brush against my
barely-clothed slit.

“What can I say?” I breathe, raising my own drink to my
lips, “You look damn good in a suit, Mr. King.”

Just as the smoky taste of the scotch hits the back of my
throat, I feel Jay’s fingers push aside my underwear and trace along the length
of my pussy. I swallow hard as he strokes the warm, wet place between my legs,
exploring the contours of my sex as I clutch onto my glass of scotch for dear
life. I lean against Jay’s solid form as my body melts beneath his touch.
Sparks of pleasure race along my spine as he slides two strong fingers into my
aching sex, pulsing them against that delicious spot where I’ve so longed to
feel him.

“You gonna be OK if I keep going?” Jay asks, wrapping a
steadying arm around my body as he works me into a frenzy with his expert
fingers.

“Don’t you dare stop,” I whisper, biting my lip as he lays
his thumb against my clit.

“You’re not allowed to scream,” he tells me, his voice a low
growl, “Not until I get you home, anyway.”

“Maybe we should just stay for one round, then…” I gasp, my
back arching as he rubs firm circles around my clit.

Just as I’m teetering on the edge of bliss, ready to come
any second, Jamison lifts his hand away from my pussy. I nearly cry out in
frustration as he smiles down at me, reaching for his glass. He knocks back the
rest of his smooth, amber liquor in one gulp, and I hastily follow his lead. A
warm, tipsy glow spreads through my body as I set my glass down, meeting Jay’s
lustful gaze.

“I’ll get the check,” he grins.

I spend the entire twenty-minute car ride back to Jay’s home
wishing we were in one of those self-driving cars. The only thing keeping me
from throwing myself into his arms is our driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror.
By the time we pull up to Jay’s brownstone on West 10th Street, I can barely
stand up for the pounding need pulsing through my body. Luckily, Jay is there
to help me out of the car and all but carry me up the front steps of his
gorgeous home. I’m so overcome by my urgent desire that the full beauty of his
block doesn’t even sink in right away. Whatever—there’ll be time for admiring
the real estate later. First things first.

The second Jay slams his front door shut behind us, every
thought beyond him flies straight out of my mind. I turn to face him in the
mirrored foyer, positively lit up with want of him. Luckily, we seem to be on
the same page. Jay’s towering form advances on me, his blue eyes fiery with
need. I gasp as he grabs firm hold of my waist, spins me around, and presses me
hard against the heavy wooden front door.