“Name your cut.” He circled her desk like an opponent in the ring, and she caught a whiff of his aftershave. Cool spice.
A rush of air filled her lungs, and she let it hurl out in a miniature tornado. “Half the take, no sex, and I’m gone right after the ceremony.”
He eyed her like he was going for her jugular. “Sex is a non-negotiable item in this deal.” A guffaw ripped from deep in his throat. “A real marriage is the backer’s price.”
Nina grasped the mug between her hands, gulped several mouthfuls of the now lukewarm coffee and plunked it back on the coaster. The black brew sloshed the sides of the cup, but didn’t spill. She picked up a pencil and tapped it on the desktop. She hadn’t worked for Cade Sloan without learning a thing or two about savvy —make that cutthroat—business wheeling and dealing. She cleared her throat. “Fifty percent, one night of s-s-se—”
“With me.” He grinned, and from her vantage it looked like a leer.
She ignored the hit. “After the ring’s on my finger, one night with y-y-ou, and then I’m gone.”
“Hasta la vista, babe?” He winked. She nodded. She couldn’t speak.
Her heart squeezed itself into a fist. She must be nuts to engage in this deal with him. She had to find another way to fund her search…support her mother, herself, pay the PI, get answers, find her father.
“Works for me.” He rolled up his sleeves and flexed his arms.
“It does?” She let herself consider her future husband-to-be. He was well built and tanned…must be all that trekking around constructions sites. The August heat branded his brown hair with sunlight, and she wondered how soft—
She paled in comparison, being cooped indoors with the air conditioning. Add to that her frumpy clothes, chunky shoes, eyeglasses and a hairstyle that’d gone out with the wagon train, and no one would give her a second look.
A quiver of a smile brushed her mouth. Beneath her outer garments, lace and silk sheathed her curves, but that was her secret. And that’s how she liked it, how she planned it.
“Mmm,” Cade murmured, a predator cornering his prey. No sweat with this deal. He’d charm the money from her, which was technically his anyway, and then unload her.
Cade dismissed the stab of his conscience.
For her trouble, she’d be tripping along with pocketfuls of cash as per his original offer. A slight easing around his heart. She’d collect on the rings too. She’d be set to go.
You schmuck. He shrugged. He’d been called worse.
“No regrets?” he asked, wondering why he bothered to voice the query.
“I’ll let you know.” She toyed with the pencil between her fingers, not meeting his eyes.
Chuckling, he bridged the distance between them and set his coffee mug next to hers. He was back on the playing field. Rebuilding the company would save hundreds of jobs and create new ones on the home front and overseas. He had nothing to feel guilty about, did he?
He loomed over her, so close he could smell her perfume—exotic blossoms of some kind. It knocked his senses into gear. “Take a memo, Ms. McLowsky.”
She adjusted her eyeglasses and risked a peek at him from above the lenses.
He flashed her a wolfish smile. “Our merger goes into effect tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Nina plunked her hands on the computer keys, short-circuiting the flow of power and filling the screen with gibberish.
“Yep.” Cade grunted, holding her hostage with his gaze.
Nina tapped the delete button and cleared the monitor, thankful that he didn’t get a visual of the screen. She sighed, relieved, before a sliver of fear pierced her. She didn’t like that look in his eye. She should have known it by now; that cunning, ‘take no prisoners’ mentality that had launched him into the mega millions bracket virtually over night crossed over into his personal life. And now he had ensnared her.
He could get any woman he wanted, why choose her?
And why had she consented?
Couldn’t she just delete the foolish agreement she made with her boss? Surely he wouldn’t hold her to it. All she had to do was rescind—
“Not having second thoughts already?” he asked, his tone a challenge.
She jutted her chin and shook her head, her fingers poised over the keyboard. “You?”
Cade chuckled. “Not a chance.”
He had to concede to his uncle’s terms, even if it felt like a crowbar in his chest. If he didn’t play along, the international bankers would hammer locks onto his businesses. With barely enough to cut expenses next month, he’d be shoveling gravel himself at the luxury condo development in Westchester.
The idea soured in his stomach.
The sudden clanging of an alarm clock yanked him from his dark thoughts, and he scowled at his intended.
“Oops, sorry.” Nina slapped the clock quiet, and didn’t even bother looking his way. “I use the timer to pace my page count.”
“Carry on.” He circled her desk.
Cade had built his company into the billion dollar global economic force it was today virtually with his bare hands and a knack of hitting the bull’s-eye on a construction deal. To have his life’s work on the edge of destruction scoured his insides and pumped him into battle.
A distressing noise invaded his thoughts, and he refocused on Nina, slamming her coffee mug on the desk and muffling a cough with her hand.
“We-ent down the wrong way,” she wheezed, reaching for a Kleenex.
“You want some water?” He patted her back and when a crackle of electricity singed his fingers, he pulled away. Static from her dress, he concluded, but the sensation shot into his arm and spread through him.
Hot. Arousing.
He frowned. Unusual.
“No-o.” She shook her head, and a curl fell over her brow. “I’m fine, thanks.” A flick of her fingers, and she smoothed it back in place.
“Are you always so efficient?”
“Excuse me?” she murmured, her attention on the computer screen.
“Nothing,” he muttered, stepping away from her.
All this week until dawn today, he’d racked his brains for another solution to his dilemma. But this morning, he’d rolled out of bed, his pajama bottoms riding low on his hips and, scrubbing his unshaven jaw raw, trudging barefoot to the kitchen of his Park Avenue penthouse, while his lack of options mocked him. Seizing the percolator from the counter, he had splashed stale coffee in a mug and taken a swig in hope of reviving his senses. Scratching his chest, he slogged to the living room, and sank on the sofa, the mug warming his palms.
A flutter in Monte Carlo or Las Vegas might dig him out if lady luck was on his side. A dim memory of his father turning a card at the gaming tables and online casinos surfaced. Cade had taken a gulp of the brew and the bitter taste grated his tongue. On a winning streak, William Sloan had strutted; but on a losing spiral—
Cade then hauled himself up and walked to the wall of window, squinting at the sun rising over the Manhattan