Marriage in Name Only? (5 page)

Chloe spoke French well enough but listening to Jordan speak it was like having the back of her neck stroked with rich velvet. She indulged in the sensation a moment before forcing her thoughts back to the reason she was eating expensive French cuisine without prices in the first place.

‘So what’s the deal here?’

He rotated the base of his wineglass on the cloth and met her eyes. ‘I spoke with Dana today. With your references and what I’ve learned about you so far, I’m satisfied you’re the best woman for the job.’

‘Oh? And what if I don’t want this job?’

‘You will,’ he said smoothly.

She took a sip of wine and studied him over the crystal rim. ‘So confident?’

‘I’m always confident.’ He leaned forward slightly. ‘For the record, though, how badly do you need cash, and just as important, why?’

She hesitated, then decided what the hell? She had nothing
to lose and maybe something to gain. ‘My sister emailed me that my parents could lose the family home. They always put us kids first, sent us to the best schools and paid our tuition fees because they hadn’t had the opportunity themselves and wanted it for us. I was the only one who disappointed them and now they’re elderly. Donna expects me …’

They’d not been in touch for years except for birthdays and Christmas and Chloe had never got around to telling them about her humiliating breakup. ‘I want to help.’

He nodded. ‘Sounds reasonable. And I need someone to help me win a lucrative contract overseas. Which makes it perfect.’

‘Huh?’ She stared at him, incredulous. ‘How can a woman with no business expertise possibly help you win an overseas contract?’

His voice was polished business professional. ‘You’d accompany me to Dubai as my wife.’

Her mouth dropped open. ‘Excuse me?’

‘In return for a very large sum of money.’

In the ensuing silence she clamped her hands to her head to keep it from spinning away. ‘How large?’ she said, finally. Faintly.

She thought she saw a smile of satisfaction flicker at the corner of his mouth, then he named a figure that had her head spinning in the other direction. And it wasn’t just the money; everything about this proposal had
dangerous
plastered all over it.

‘You like to play games, Chloe, so let’s play Mr and Mrs Jordan Blackstone for a couple of weeks.’

She almost choked on an invisible lump in her throat and all she could think was, ‘Why?’

‘Say yes and I’ll explain.’

She shook her head. ‘It’s ridiculous. Impossible.’

‘You’re already married?’

‘No. I just … can’t up and go away with you.’
But that kind of money,
a tiny, desperate voice whispered. ‘Dubai …?’

‘Have you been there?’

‘No.’

‘But that adventurous girl would like to, right?’ He nodded. ‘Think about it, Chloe.’

Oh, she was. She surely was. Like how easy it would be to fall into another man’s honeyed money trap.

‘If you’re worried about publicity, no one need know,’ he assured her in a soothing tone.

‘Oh, yeah? The media obviously loves you. What if they see us together and get snap happy?’

‘I’ll make sure they don’t. I’m an expert at not being seen when I don’t want to be seen.’

Ideas were tumbling inside her head. She was already calculating what she could do with that kind of money. First and foremost she could ensure her parents kept their home, with plenty left over. For once in her life she’d be the golden girl. This man could be the fabulous guy she’d told her parents about.
Win-win
.

She shook her head. Forget fabulous guy.
What
was she thinking? This man wasn’t Stewart, nor was he ever going to meet her family. ‘I only just met you. I may be a risk-taker but I’m not stupid.’

‘No, you’re not stupid—you’re being cautious. We can discuss it, then—’

‘Discuss it …’

His lucrative business contract.

A fortune in cash.

A fake marriage
.

‘Why would a wealthy, good-looking guy such as yourself consider such a drastic course of action with short, plain-speaking, plain-dressing Chloe Montgomery, I’d like to know? Surely you have plenty of willing candidates?’

‘Don’t put yourself down, Chloe, and others won’t.’ His blue eyes mesmerised her. ‘I’m sure willing candidates abound, yes, but I pride myself on reading people. I need a woman with particular qualities and you tick all the boxes.’

She felt a strange warmth flow through her veins, as if he was paying her a compliment even though he hadn’t resorted to the usual complimentary—and often empty—words. However, she said, ‘I’m not going into this without all the facts I need to make an informed decision.’

He nodded. ‘I have questions too.’ He leaned forward, his eyes intense. ‘Let’s be absolutely clear here. This is a business arrangement. We’ll both sign an agreement to that effect. If you decide not to go ahead, I ask that you keep what I’m about to say confidential. Are we agreed?’

‘Okay.’

He talked to her about Rivergold Mining and honouring his father’s last wishes. By the time he’d finished, their starters had arrived. The fact that he seemed to be upfront with no hidden agenda was reassuring.

Still … ‘How long would this “marriage” thing have to last?’

‘Just until the business deal’s agreed on and we come home.’

She chewed on her lips a moment. ‘I want the money up front.’

He regarded her steadily a moment, then withdrew a legal-looking document. ‘Read this fully, sign both copies and I’ll deposit half the agreed sum in your bank account. The rest will be deposited as soon as the deal’s done.’

‘You
were
confident,’ she murmured, almost afraid to think about how carefully he’d planned this.

‘I had my lawyer draw it up this afternoon,’ he said as she skimmed the first page. ‘If you’d like your lawyer to check it over—’

‘I don’t
have
a lawyer,’ she stated, then tapped the paper—savvy business girl now. ‘I want that first payment in my account
before
I sign.’

He shook his head. ‘That’s a substantial sum of money. You’re not the only one being cautious here.’ He spooned salad onto her plate beside the Brie tartlet. ‘What would set your mind at ease?’

‘I’m not sure anything will. And I’ll tell you why.’ She cut off a mouthful of the tempting tart in front of her. ‘I trusted a man,’ she began. ‘He was a lot like you.’

‘In what way?’

‘The kind of guy women can’t resist.’

One eyebrow lifted as he pulled his dinner roll apart. ‘You’ve resisted me. Quite admirably, I’d say.’

She felt a smile touch her lips. ‘You don’t want to know what I was thinking when I opened my front door earlier.’

His gaze clashed with hers and heat met heat across the table. ‘If it was anything like what I was thinking, we’re going to get along very well.’

An image of them plastered together against her front door, bodies slick with sweat, sent heat rippling like teasing fingers through her lower regions. She almost moaned aloud and her cheeks flushed and she reached for her water. They had more to discuss here than the business arrangements. ‘Umm … where was I?’

His eyes flirted,
Wherever it is, I’d like to be there with you,
but, ‘Mr Irresistible …’ was what he said.

‘Ah, yeah. Markos. Call him Mr Despicable.’ She cast her mind back to a time not so long ago. A time she’d rather forget but one she needed to remember, particularly given tonight’s circumstances and the mission in front of her if she chose to accept. ‘A friend’s family died in tragic circumstances while she was overseas and it made me think about how long I’ve
been gone … I had some money saved up but I wanted to be able to have enough to show them I’d been successful …’

He watched her without speaking, and neither did she as the mains arrived and the waiter refilled their glasses.

‘Why?’ he asked when they were alone again.

‘My family judges success by how many letters you have after your name and your well-paid
professional
career. I judge success by happiness and how you live your life. It’s never been about money for me.’

‘And they just didn’t get you.’

But he did, she thought, relieved. ‘No. Maybe I was homesick after what happened with Ellen’s family and I just wanted to be the person they want me to be for once.’

He drank some champagne, then said, ‘Back to Mr Despicable …’

She forked up some of the flaked salmon. ‘You heard my story yesterday.’ She’d been so stupid, so naive. ‘“Prince” Markos turned out to be an evil sorcerer. The princess needed money and he was an acquaintance.

‘He offered her an investment that promised a quick return. He tricked the princess into parting with what little cash she had, then disappeared. I had barely enough to get me home, let alone a job or accommodation …’
Trust me, Chloe
.

‘And you haven’t told your family you’re back yet.’

She shook her head.
This
man, however—rather, his
offer
—would change her life. Her boss trusted him so she was prepared to take the risk. The only way from here was up, right?

Chloe pushed her half-finished plate to one side, reached for the documents and slid them in front of her. The terms were mostly straightforward. She looked up, met his eyes. ‘This clause here …’

‘… is saying I won’t force myself on you. And the consequences if I did.’

He leaned in so that all she could see were his eyes. No bedroom heat in those brilliant blues right now but they were clear and honest and reassuring.

‘What we have is a business arrangement,’ he reiterated quietly. ‘We’ll need to share a room and act like newlyweds up to a point, bearing in mind that in Dubai public displays of affection are unacceptable. But trust me, Chloe Montgomery, winning this contract is worth more to me than—’

Sex
. ‘You don’t need to spell it out, Mr Blackstone. I understand clearly.’
And a golden fortune in compensation if he breaks it
.

So why did his matter-of-fact reassurance that she wasn’t at the top of his ‘to-do’ list somehow disappoint her? ‘For the record, if we were to …’ She trailed off, flustered as heat bled into her cheeks.

His eyes darkened. ‘Take things further?’ The way he said it, all smooth and chocolaty. After-dinner delights …

‘Forget it.’ Chloe pushed the words out before he could respond, digging into her bag and pulling out a pen. Did she sound desperate and dateless or what? She scribbled her signature on both copies, pushed them back to him without looking at him.

Of course
abstinence would be the wisest decision, she told herself, studying her hands on the tablecloth. She wasn’t a woman who shied away from a man she found attractive, but getting involved on an intimate level with a man she was entering into a business partnership with was fraught with all kinds of danger. Even if that partnership was a faked marriage.

Especially
if it was a faked marriage …

Jordan signed too, then tapped into his smartphone. ‘Do you have your bank details handy?’

W
HILE HE STIRRED
the froth on his coffee, Jordan watched the girl who’d agreed to help for any sign of how she was feeling. No visible emotion. She was scrolling through her phone options as if he didn’t exist. Checking her account balance? International flight schedules to Ibiza or Acapulco? She hadn’t so much as glanced at him since she’d signed the documents.

A fleeting self-doubt wrapped around his gut. What was stopping her from doing a moonlight flit with his money tonight? He’d learned not to trust so easily a long time ago, especially where women were concerned; they could literally take off at a moment’s notice. And the enormity of this gamble was taking on the proportions of the Hindenburg, with the same potential for disaster.

For God’s sake, stop second-guessing yourself
. He might have just met her but he knew Chloe was no Lynette.

All that aside, he needed to get them both to Dubai ASAP. He also wanted to keep her with him 24/7 until the deal was done, but he knew that wasn’t likely. And he didn’t want to spook her by being too full-on and risk the deal going wrong.

On the other hand, she’d told him money wasn’t a motivator, and, from the expression in her eyes when she’d said it, he believed her. He’d seen firsthand that she was the sort who was willing to step in and help out in a pinch—for her employer and her family … and Jordan too.

Trust issues aside, it was blatantly obvious she was as attracted to him as he was her and he was hoping they might mix a little pleasure with their business. There was nothing in the agreement to prevent that, provided both parties were willing. He reached for his own mobile. ‘We should get some details out of the way tonight.’

‘Hmm …’

‘Do you have any commitments over the next few weeks?’

She finally looked up from her phone. ‘Dana’s just given me full-time work, so, yes, I do.’

‘Apart from that.’ He sent Roma, his PA in Perth, an email confirming his schedule. ‘Can you be ready to leave tomorrow?’

It didn’t sound like a question and she blinked. ‘You’re kidding, right? I just told you, I’ve got a new job. I’m trying to be responsible.’

‘That’s very commendable, but I’m paying you to be responsible with
me
. Our business has priority over everything else. That includes your social life, by the way.’

She raised a brow. ‘It’s fortunate then that I have no upcoming social events on my personal calendar, isn’t it?’

He frowned. He didn’t know why he’d made that brusque demand. Except that he didn’t want anything or anyone interfering with his plans, which included having Chloe exclusively to himself for the next week or two. He was confident it wasn’t going to be all work and no play. ‘I’ll make sure Dana holds your position,’ he said more reasonably. ‘That’s if you still want it when we come back.’

‘Of course I’ll want it.’

Her quick and definite response surprised him. It wasn’t exactly a highly paid sought-after career move they were talking about.

‘I don’t have any paper qualifications so I’m limited in choices,’ she said, as if reading his thoughts. ‘I never studied.’

He caught a wistfulness in her tone. ‘You’d have liked to?’

‘Yeah. Maybe counselling.’ A wry smile tipped one corner of her mouth. ‘Even if it’s just to understand myself better. And you need to be settled in one place and I don’t know if I can after all this time. Staying power, perseverance and tenacity are not my strengths.’

‘But in a couple of weeks you’ll have the money to make it happen.’

‘Yes,’ she said, almost as if startled by the revelation. ‘I suppose I will. I’ve never had my own money—not
money
money. And this is like … wow.’

Her dreamy expression lingered as if she was already wishing herself far far away.
Staying power wasn’t one of her strengths
. ‘Very well, you’ve got tomorrow to get organised.’ While he finalised travel arrangements and his business plan with Qasim. He signalled the waiter for the bill.

‘Hang on …’ She cleared her phone’s screen. ‘We’re not going home already, surely? We don’t know nearly enough about each other yet. Or how to do this … thing …’

Exactly.

He nodded. ‘It could take a while.’
This thing
needed careful consideration and exploration. ‘It could take all night.’ His voice suddenly sounded lower than his belt buckle—which was no surprise given where his thoughts were leading—and Chloe noticed too because she looked at him sharply, those whisky eyes splashed with awareness.

‘To make plans,’ he clarified, not taking his gaze off hers.

‘And get better acquainted,’ she agreed, staring back and shifting forward in her chair. A hint of inviting cleavage caught his attention as she rested her forearms on the table ready to begin.

He liked the prospect of getting better acquainted. A lot. He leaned closer so he could smell that scent of cinnamon, citrus and jasmine that was fast becoming one of his favourites.
‘We’ll be more comfortable at home. We could go to my apartment, but yours is closer. Is it okay if we go there?’

‘I only have a single bed …’ She gave a little hiccup and shook her head, looking dismayed. ‘Omigod. Did I say that aloud? That’s not what I meant.’ Pause while she blinked at him. ‘Is that what
you
meant? Not that I was thinking about bed—not in that way. Because this is a
business
arrangement. I get that. We need to talk. I need to pack. I probably won’t have time to sleep at all—’

‘Chloe.’ He kept his smile on the inside. ‘Take a deep breath.’

She stared at him another beat, then closed those panicked eyes and sucked in air deeply. Exhaled in one long slow stream.

He took the opportunity for a leisurely all-out perusal of her face and he couldn’t decide which he wanted to kiss more—her pulse doing star jumps at the base of her throat, or the scattering of freckles across her nose. After reacquainting himself with those plump, pouty lips, that was.

When she opened her eyes again, she seemed to have regained some composure, but she wasn’t looking at him, she was staring at the tablecloth. ‘I tend to go on when I’m stressed or excited or … plotting fake marriages.’ She blew out a strangled-sounding breath, dropped her phone into her purse. ‘Let’s just get out of here.’

What
had she done?

Chloe chewed her lower lip as Jordan pulled up outside her place. Suggesting getting better acquainted in that smoky, siren’s voice she’d never heard coming out of her mouth before?

Then the bit about her single bed had literally popped out. She stifled a groan.
Because
he’d been talking about how it might take all night and being more comfortable and … and looking at her as if he wanted to devour her at the earliest
opportunity, and her focus on the trip had got muddled up with a sexual fantasy and
how was she going to keep things strictly business?

She’d never had a problem compartmentalising the men in her life. With one past regrettable exception, it was either business or pleasure—simple and uncomplicated. Her male acquaintances either fitted in one or the other.

Until Jordan.

He switched off the engine. Silence and anticipation thickened the air. Not hanging around to see if he’d try a squeeze or a kiss; she was already out and halfway up the path when she heard Jordan’s car door shut and the alarm’s
meep
. Her shoes tapped a staccato on the pavement, oddly loud and a tad desperate in the quiet suburban evening.

The scent of damp leaves and smoky log fires gave way to old wood and last night’s reheated tandoori chicken as she pushed open the front door—the front door she’d imagined them naked against. Her fingers clenched around her keys and, instead, she imagined telling him she’d changed her mind and shutting it in his face.

She tried telling herself good looks and sex appeal were nothing.
Nothing
. They didn’t influence Chloe Montgomery. Except Jordan was already on her doorstep, towering over her and making her swallow those lying, superficial and
treacherous
thoughts.

She realised she’d already partially closed the door on him. ‘Sorry,’ she murmured, motioning him in. ‘My mind’s everywhere tonight.’

‘I imagine it is,’ he said, stepping inside.

Up close, his sheer size in the cramped, dim foyer, lit only from the street lamp slanting through the glass door panels, accentuated their height difference. All her life she’d hated her lack of stature and accompanying feelings of insignificance.
Yet somehow Jordan made her feel small and feminine and
not
insignificant in any way.

Not good if she was going to maintain her distance and keep things on a business level. She should have insisted on the safer option of conducting their conversation in its entirety at the restaurant. She’d been too quick to allow him to take control. ‘Another coffee?’ she asked, flicking on the passage light as she turned away and headed to the kitchen.

‘Yes, please. Chloe, wait up.’ A firm hand closed over her shoulder and he turned her to face him. ‘You’re not afraid of me, are you?’ Both hands were on her shoulders now, his thumbs drawing tight little circles.

‘Me? Afraid? Of you?’ She choked out a half-laugh.

‘Nervous as a kitten in a tiger’s cage since we signed the paperwork.’

There was a lot more truth to that image than she wanted to think about. Jordan radiated that big-cat power and dominance—she could feel it tingling through his fingers and deep along her collarbones, turning them and every other extremity to rubber.

And so help her, Chloe Montgomery, who refused to allow others to dictate her life, who strenuously avoided the type of testosterone-fuelled, take-charge man that was Jordan, wanted to surrender to all that male dominance. Craved more of his lips on hers—and wherever else he wanted to put them—again.

She stiffened her spine and took a deliberate step away, only to end up with her back against the wall. Had she learned nothing in the past couple of years? ‘It’s myself I’m nervous of—if that makes sense.’

‘Yeah. It does.’ The massage stopped and he trailed his hands lightly over her shoulders, down her arms and up again, his eyes staring into hers with a smile that matched his mouth.
‘You can’t keep your thoughts off us getting naked together either.’

A distressed sound bubbled up her throat and fiery heat exploded into her cheeks. Was it that obvious?

‘And how it’s going to be when I come deep inside you,’ he went on in a kind of murmur that swept up Chloe’s spine like a big tabby cat’s hot, wet tongue, making her shiver—in a dangerously delicious way. ‘But that’s not what we’re about, not what we’ve agreed on, and it bothers you.’

‘No, I … Yes …’ This whole one-sided, erotic conversation
bothered
her.

And the fact that somehow, without her noticing, he’d moved closer so that the front of his shirt was brushing against her bodice while her useless arms hung limp. Only her fingers curled and uncurled at her sides.

He toyed with the tips of her hair as if he’d never seen fair hair before. ‘Rest easy, Blondie, it’ll be
you
inviting
me,’
he assured her, his deep voice resonating against her breasts and making her nipples tight and achy.

‘
Me
inviting you.’

A slow confident smile spread across his features. ‘You’re worried about how that’s going to work. Trust me, it’ll work just fine.’

Trust me, Chloe
.

‘I am
not
worried because I intend to stay away from you as much as possible. And don’t call me Blondie.’

‘What will I call you, then? We should have pet names for each other, don’t you think?’

‘No. And there’s that clause in the agreement that states—’

‘We’re not talking coercion here,
Blondie,’
he said smoothly. ‘And we both know it.’

Drawing herself up taller, she dared to meet his blue-eyed intensity, but only succeeded in bumping up against another bit that she was sure hadn’t been there a moment ago … and
she froze, which was odd since she felt so, so hot. ‘It’s strictly business—you said so yourself.’ Her words were crisp, cool and PA efficient to counteract the heat emanating between their bodies. ‘You laid out the terms very clearly.’

‘That’s true.’ Leaning down, he traced the neckline of her dress with a finger. ‘Just because we have a business arrangement, doesn’t mean it has to be all work. We can still keep it professional—’ he removed his finger from the top of her dress and placed his palm flat on the wall beside her head ‘—but there’s no reason we can’t make it a bit of a holiday as well.’

She stared up at him, hair burnished teak by the suspended old-gold light in the foyer, not trusting herself to argue with his thought process. But a holiday fling? With one’s business partner?
And
keep it professional? Wasn’t going to happen.

She lifted her chin. ‘You said our arrangement had nothing to do with the fact that you were attracted to me.’

‘It doesn’t.’ He grinned, revealing even white teeth. ‘We’ll keep business and personal separate.’

‘So what’s this evening about, then? The
now
part of this evening.’

‘Getting better acquainted.’ His gaze slid to her lips. ‘Isn’t that what you said earlier?’

‘I … Yes.’ Didn’t have to mean anything sexual, right? Of course they needed to get to know each other better. She could feel her legs giving way, her back sliding down the wall. ‘But I don’t think kissing’s a good idea …’

‘Why not? We really need to practise if we’re to pull off the newlyweds charade.’

‘No PDA’s in Dubai, remember, so it’s
really
not necessary. Since we won’t be kissing in public. Or anywhere else …’

‘But it’ll give us that aura of implied intimacy. You know that look you see between two people that signals to the rest of the world that they’re lovers?’

Her head bobbed once. ‘Uh-huh …’ Just as she recognised the look he was giving her now signalled
Danger: Intimacy Ahead
.

‘Whisky eyes.’ His breath feathered over her lips as he looked at her, his cobalt eyes dark with desire. ‘I could get intoxicated just looking at them.’