Yours for the Taking (3 page)

“I’ve never been a beard before. Will the press know we’re, you know,” she motioned with her hand as if she couldn’t come up with the word.

“Married?”

Gina shook her head, “Yeah, that.”

Ben had to keep his temper when it came to the beard comment. As if he needed one. He didn’t like that he had the urge to show her just how gay he wasn’t. What he needed to do was control his male ego. Shit, if Karma and the guys knew what he was doing, he’d be the laughingstock of the family. “I usually fly well under the press’s radar. I’m sure if we give them your name, chances are they’ll just use that and not dig any deeper. There is always a chance they will; it’s slight, but it’s there. Are you hungry?”

***

Gina couldn’t believe he was talking about food at a time like this. “Why me?”

He took his keys back out of his pocket and tossed them in the air again. She crossed her arms to keep from snatching them so she could put an end to that very annoying habit and tapped her toe. “I’m waiting.” He gaped at her as if she’d just stripped in front of him.

“Why not you?”

“Come on, Ben. You just don’t ask a veritable stranger to marry you. What about your other friends?”

“I asked Annabelle but she married Mike instead.”

“The nerve. So that was it?”

Ben looked as if he was deciding whether or not to tell the truth. She gave him the Bronx stare, which made men much bigger than him go crying to their mamas.

“I asked my only other good female friend.”

“And she said no?”

Ben sat on the metal and leather chair and crossed his long, long legs at the ankle in front of him. He was so gorgeous, the fact that he was gay was a real shame, but then Gina had never met an ugly gay man.

“If she hadn’t, I wouldn’t be talking to you, now would I? I’m not trying to rush you, but I have a time limit. When do you think you can tell me your decision?”

“I don’t know about this. I have goals and I’ve met every one of them on my own. Marrying you would feel like cheating. Not only is it a lie, which always catches up to you, but I don’t want to look back on my life and wonder if I could have made it on my own.”

Ben shot out of his chair. “Let me get this straight, you’re going to refuse me because you want to struggle when I can easily give you whatever you want?”

“I’m not for sale.”

“Gina, this is a business transaction, plain and simple. You’re getting paid to marry me and put your social life on hold for up to a year.”

“One year of my life is going to cost you twelve point five million dollars. That’s roughly thirty-five thousand dollars a day. That’s insane.”

“That’s what a typical prenup would state for a person of my income and net worth. Why are you complaining? I’m not. I don’t care what you do with the money. If you feel guilty, give it to charity.”

With that much money, she’d finally be able to afford to hire a professional to search for her brother, Rafael. She wasn’t sure how she’d find him, but she knew better than most that money made almost all things possible. She could buy her sister Tina and her brother-in-law their dream home in the suburbs, and after the divorce, she could sell whatever castle Ben bought, buy a normal home for cash, and invest the rest.

Gina had spent her life worrying about Rafael and fighting to keep her and her sister safe and fed. She might be overly proud, but she wasn’t stupid. She’d be crazy not to marry him. “So, Mr. Richie Rich, how did you get from Idaho to New York, and where’d you get all this money you talk about?”

Ben looked up to the heavens as if he were praying for mercy or patience, probably patience, but at this point Gina couldn’t care less.

“I went to NYU and majored in business and art history. Since I turned eighteen, I’ve been given a monthly allowance from my trust. I saved a lot. When I saw an opportunity to buy this building and start my gallery, I jumped at it. I’ve been living between here and Boise ever since. When I turned thirty, I was given control of the trust and the rest is history.”

At least he wasn’t some kind of high-class drug dealer—just a well-funded art dealer. Gina crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her toe. “We’d have to have a time limit. Your grandfather could hold this land over your head forever unless he put something in writing, and I don’t want to spend the rest of my life married to you.”

“Okay. What do you think is fair?”

“Three years, max?”

Ben stood and held out his hand. “Deal?”

Gina looked up at him and shrugged. “As long as my lawyer doesn’t have any problems with the prenup, I guess we have a deal.” She shook his hand, looked him in the eye, and thanked God he was batting for the other team. If he were straight, Gina would probably end up making a fool of herself over a guy like Benjamin Walsh.

One month to the day after accepting Ben’s business proposal, Gina placed the box of her meager possessions by the door of her small bedroom. She dusted off her hands and looked around. That was it. She was all packed.

She eyed her one box of knickknacks with a certain amount of apprehension. They were presents Rosalie had given her over the years—little dust collectors Gina never understood. The only things she collected were necessities like clothes, shoes, and purses. Okay, maybe they weren’t all strictly necessities, but they were useful. She wondered if a Coach purse could truly be considered a necessity. Gina smiled to herself when she remembered the day she found one on the rack at TJ Maxx for $40. That made it a necessity.

As for the possessions other people thought important, she knew better. She grew up keeping only the things she could carry with her in two bags and a backpack. It was only recently that her clothes closet went beyond that rule, even though it had been years since she had to pack in the dark to sneak out of an apartment so she, her mother, and her sister could skip out on the rent. Having so many possessions made her nervous.

Gina had taken the day off to move into her temporary place. She’d rented Rosalie’s brownstone apartment until she could buy something Ben approved of. This was the first time she had to hire a cab to move. Her last move was by bus. The two bags and backpack rule had still been in place then.

Checking the time, she cursed. Leave it to her to be late for her own wedding. She still had to shower and dress before heading downtown.

Ben offered to send a car for her, but Gina refused. Maybe because she wasn’t sure she could go through with it and the last thing she needed was to have to escape from a limo driver on Ben’s payroll—if he had a limo driver on his payroll. The way it sounded, he very well might. Not that she cared. What Ben Walsh did with his money certainly wasn’t her business.

She tossed a towel over her shoulder and tiptoed through the apartment to the bathroom. Her brother-in-law, Sam, a cop, worked night duty and was a light sleeper. She definitely didn’t want him awake to give her a hard time. He’d take one look at her dress and he’d know something was up. She hadn’t told Sam or her sister Tina about Ben or the wedding and she wasn’t about to mention it until it was absolutely necessary. They were one of the few insanely happy married couples. They’d have a real problem with Gina marrying for money. It wasn’t as if Gina didn’t have a problem with it; just not as big a problem as Tina and Sam would. Gina didn’t believe in marriage, well, at least not for her; and even if she did, this was business, not a real marriage. Besides, it wasn’t as if she was selling her body. If sex were involved she wouldn’t do it. All she was selling was up to three years of her independence for roughly $35,000 a day. She wasn’t proud of it, but since someone was going to get that money, Gina couldn’t think of one good reason why it shouldn’t be her.

Gina raced to get ready and when she finally stepped into the elevator, she took a deep breath to calm her nerves. It was stupid to be nervous; after all, this wasn’t a real marriage. With any luck, in a year—or at worst, three years—she’d have forgotten the whole thing. She checked her watch and tried to decide which would be faster, subway or bus. Then she remembered she was wearing her favorite Marilyn Monroe white halter dress, and had second thoughts about public transportation. She wasn’t looking forward to the afternoon’s events, but that didn’t mean she wanted to show up looking dirty. When the elevator doors swooshed open, she rushed across the lobby and out the door. Spotting a cab, she put two fingers between her lips and whistled. The checkered cab screeched to a halt in front of her.

Gina slid in, took one look at the cabby, and groaned. “Carlos, what are you doing? Stalking me?” Carlos had had a crush on Gina since they were both twelve and she grew boobs. He’d been a sweet pest ever since.

“Hey, Gina.” Carlos smiled his toothy grin. “No, I just dropped Tina off at the grocery down the block. This was pure luck.”

“Yeah, bad luck is more like it.”

She looked out the back window and saw no other cabs. Because she was already running late, she didn’t have time to chance it, but she’d be damned if she’d have Carlos take her where she was going. No, the man talked way too much.

“Take me to City Hall, and hurry up. I’m late.”

He stared at her breasts. “Damn, Gina, you’re lookin’ fine. So, what are you gonna do at City Hall lookin’ like a hot, Latin Marilyn Monroe?”

Gina pulled her coat closed and started her makeup. “Nothing you need to know about. And you better not breathe a word of this to Tina and Sam.”

Carlos smiled back at her through the rearview mirror as he turned on the meter and pulled into traffic heading downtown. “Yeah. Sure, you know, us cabbies, we’re like priests. We don’t say nothin’ to nobody.”

Gina rolled her eyes. “I’ll give you an extra twenty if you keep your mouth shut. And so help me, Carlos, if you say so much as a word, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

“Eh, Gina. No need to get nasty now. I get it.” He switched lanes, cutting off a bus, and she almost put her eye out with the liner pencil. “So, I was thinkin’, maybe we should, you know, go out sometime. I got season tickets to the Yankees. What’a’ya say?”

“Thanks, Carlos, but no. I’m busy.”

Carlos stopped short at a light and Gina had to brace herself against the front seat. When she looked up, he was watching her in the mirror. “I didn’t tell you what day.”

She pulled out her mascara. “Believe me, Carlos, I’m busy every day.” For the next year at least, and even if she wasn’t, life was too short to date men who wore pants large enough to double as a parachute. You don’t have to be Einstein to know women like seeing a man’s body in clothes that actually fit. Give her a man in a well-tailored suit or a nice-fitting pair of jeans any day. No, Carlos, as nice as he was, was not her type.

Being midday, the traffic wasn’t bad. She paid Carlos, gave him a $20 tip for his silence, and watched as he pulled away before walking the rest of the way to the Marriage Bureau.

Gina entered the 1920s Art Deco building and saw Ben waiting for her. She was about to turn around and go out the same way she came in but he spotted her before she could.

“You’re late.” He tossed his keys in the air and caught them, which set her teeth on edge. “I’ve been waiting twenty minutes vacillating between hoping you’d show up and praying you wouldn’t.”

“You’re lucky I’m here. I’ve been doing some major vacillating of my own. I’m sorry I’m late, but I couldn’t help it. I knew the cabby and I had to have him drop me at City Hall. I hoofed it the rest of the way.”

Ben looked as if he was about to blow his top. Gina guessed no man, gay or straight, liked to be kept waiting and then told he was lucky his date showed up at all.

“If you had let me send a car for you, you wouldn’t have had that problem.”

Gina rolled her eyes as Ben took her arm. “We need to sign the prenup and a wedding chapel is being held for us.” He led her to an office where Gina signed the prenup with a shaky hand before it was witnessed and notarized. She returned Ben’s pen and stood. “All done.”

“Not quite.” Ben didn’t look happy, but then why should he? Gina was sure gay men all over Manhattan were crying in their lattes over Ben being taken off the market for the next year. “The chapel is just down the hall. Rosalie picked up some flowers. Oh, and nice move inviting your ex to be a witness.”

“What?”

***

“I, Benjamin Walsh, take you Gina…”

This was a nightmare. A waking nightmare. Gina stood in the wedding chapel, wearing a white dress, in front of witnesses, hearing a veritable stranger speak the words she knew by heart but swore she’d never say aloud.

She looked up at Ben holding her hand and never realized how very tall he was, at least as tall as her last boyfriend, Rich Ronaldi, who topped out at six feet three inches. Gina knew this because Rich was serving as Ben’s best man and wasn’t too happy about it. Neither was Ben, not that it was her idea. She was definitely going to have a word with Rosalie after this whole fiasco. When Gina called Rosalie and asked her to be a witness at this sham of a wedding, she expected Rosalie to bring Nick, her husband. Bringing the newly married Rich Ronaldi was a cruel joke.

Ben stalled at her name and all the blood ran from his face. Gina prayed he’d come to his senses, or was having second thoughts until she realized he had just forgotten her last name. She leaned forward and whispered, “Reyez.”

Ben gave her hand a thankful squeeze. “Gina Reyez. To be my lawfully wedded wife—”

Por Dios!
She probably should have mentioned her own second, third, and fourth thoughts before she signed the prenuptial agreement, but definitely before the justice of the peace picked up his Bible and began the ceremony. Marrying Ben was something for which she’d spend a lot of time in purgatory. She had to promise to love this man in sickness and in health and she hardly knew him. That whole part about forsaking-all-others was worrying but not half as much as the keep-thyself-only-unto-him-for-as-long-as-you-both-shall-live part—at least for the first year, but honestly, Gina couldn’t see herself breaking wedding vows even if the marriage was in name only.

Ben promised sex wasn’t part of the deal, but that tidbit didn’t make it into the prenup—probably because that would open the door for an annulment. Unlike them, she figured most married couples want to have sex with each other.

The words “to be my lawfully wedded wife” reverberated in her head like the echo of the loudspeaker at Madison Square Garden. She stepped closer, willing Ben to lean down so she could whisper, “You do? Really? Are you sure you still want to do this?” not that he hadn’t covered his own ass with the prenup, but still, marrying someone was an awfully big step just to get a hunk of land, even if it was the size of several boroughs of New York.

Ben motioned to the JP to wait and ushered Gina across the chapel until they were out of earshot. “I don’t want to, I have to. I thought you of all people understood.”

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t a total stranger. “I understand wanting to save your ranch, but there has to be some other way.”

Ben raked his hand through his dark hair that curled up against his collar and pinned her with his slate blue eyes. “If there was, believe me, I wouldn’t be doing this. Marriage is not on my list of top ten things to do. Shit, it isn’t even on my bucket list.”

Gina crossed her arms. “Just so you know, marriage is on one of my lists. The list of things I would never do.
Comprende
?”

Ben straightened the tie of his perfectly tailored Hugo Boss suit and crossed his arms, which did nothing but highlight the breadth of his shoulders. “Good, then we’ll have no problem making sure this marriage only lasts as long as absolutely necessary.”

Gina eyed him. It looked as if he were telling the truth, but still, she trusted no one—especially not a man. She’d had her lawyer go over every syllable of that prenup. It was amazing what a person would do to get or protect their home. She should know. “Okay then, let’s get this over with.”

Rich walked over to them. “Is everything all right?” He had the protective big brother shtick down pat, which was weird considering they’d spent several months as long-distance bed buddies. Still, Gina appreciated the thought.

Ben didn’t spare Rich a look as he took her arm. “We’re fine.”

Richie stepped in front of them. “Gina?”

She patted Rich’s chest, “It’s all good, Richie. I just wanted to make sure Ben wasn’t having second thoughts.”

Rich wasn’t convinced, and Ben didn’t look as if he cared what Rich thought. Ben really surprised her; she didn’t know gay men could be so alpha. It was almost as surprising as Rich backing down. It was a damn good thing Ben was gay because if not, between his looks, personality, and the alpha male mojo, well, she’d be toast. Gina knew her weakness for alpha men and was smart enough to avoid close contact. That’s why she broke up with Rich when he’d moved back to town. His close proximity became problematic. Distance had been her safety net. She told him he wasn’t relationship material, but the real reason was that she never wanted to lose control of a relationship.

When they returned to the Justice of the Peace to continue the ceremony, Rosalie stared a hole through her. Rosalie had made no secret she didn’t agree with Gina marrying Ben, but then Rosalie was still in the honeymoon phase of her marriage and under the delusion that everyone has a soul mate and should be happily married just like her. Being Rosalie’s best friend had been much easier before Rosalie met Nick, back when she didn’t believe in marriage either. The two of them would sit at their favorite bar and talk over dirty martinis about fools in love. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

Gina shot Rosalie a threatening look; she didn’t trust Rosalie to keep her mouth shut. Asking Rosalie to stand up for her was a huge mistake, but Gina had no one else to ask. Other than Tina, Rosalie was Gina’s only friend, and Tina couldn’t know about this until it was over.

Ben gave her hand a tug as the Justice of the Peace cleared his throat.
Madre de Dios
, she’d missed something. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Repeat after me…”

Gina got through the vows only stumbling over the section about until death do us part. She expected the whole thing to be over and waited for the dreaded “you may kiss the bride” line.

The Justice of the Peace said something about the exchange of rings. Rich handed Ben a ring. Gina didn’t know why she was surprised. Most people who married exchanged rings, but that seemed too real for a fake marriage. Still, Ben took her hand and slid a white gold band on halfway up her finger. It was plain and for that she was thankful.

Ben slid the band the rest of the way on and then topped it with the biggest engagement ring she’d ever seen, and she had a feeling the diamond wasn’t man-made. Heck, the ring probably wasn’t gold. She’d bet her eyeteeth it was platinum. She was wearing a fortune; she might as well just wear a sign saying Mug Me Now!