The second they were alone she asked, “Twenty percent? Twenty? Are you crazy?”
Jonathon at least had the good sense to try to sound placating. “Now, Wendy…”
“You know I’m not taking twenty percent!”
“After two years being married to me, you may think you’ve earned it.”
She blew out a breath of exasperation. “I’m not taking. A penny. Of your money.”
“Don’t forget, California is a community property state. If you don’t sign the prenup, you’re entitled to half of anything I earn while we’re together. For all you know that could be more than this twenty percent.”
“What? Because you haven’t been meeting your full potential before now?” He just scowled at her. “You know that has nothing to do with why I’m marrying you.”
“I also know exactly how much money you make and that you’ll have trouble supporting yourself and a child on that income.”
“Lots of single-parent families get by on what I make,” she pointed out.
“Maybe they do,” he countered. “But you don’t have to.”
“So what? You’re just going to give me all of that money? Did you somehow miss the conversation yesterday where I mentioned that I’m a Morgan? Trust me when I tell you, Jonathon, I will be fine.”
His lips curved into the barest hint of a smile. “No. I didn’t miss that, but I also know how damn stubborn you are. And I know that you’re not going to ask your family for money. If you were the kind of person who would do that, you wouldn’t be in this position to begin with.”
Hmm. Good point. “But,” she countered, “you thought you’d talk me into taking twenty percent of your assets?”
“No. I rather hoped you’d sign the prenup without noticing that part.”
Well, that she could believe. He was just arrogant enough to think he could get away with a stunt like that.
“Even if I had signed the papers, I still wouldn’t have taken the money. That’s almost—” She struggled to do the math. Jonathon, no doubt, knew exactly how much that was, to the dime, at any given moment. “That’s… tens of millions of dollars.” Certainly more than the trust she’d never bothered to claim, which was a measly eight million. “I’m not taking that kind of money from you.”
He shrugged dismissively. “It’s a drop in the bucket.”
“It’s a fifth of the bucket. That’s a lot of drops.” She forced out a long. slow breath. Why was she angry? Why exactly?
She put voice to her thoughts as they came to her, not willing to give herself time to soften them. “Look, you’ve always been arrogant and controlling.”
He raised his eyebrows. Probably in surprise that she’d say it aloud to him. He certainly couldn’t be shocked by the idea.
“At work, it’s fine,” she continued. “You’re my boss. But if we’re going to get married, then the second we walk out that door each day—” she jabbed a finger toward the door “—you have to stop trying to control everything. Even if this isn’t a real marriage.”
“Wendy, I’m not—”
“But you are,” she said, cutting him off. “Don’t you get it? If I wanted to sit back and be taken care of for the rest of my life, I never would have left Texas. I like having to work for a living. I’ve been rich. I know that money alone won’t make me happy. And I also know that being with someone who’s always trying to control me will make me miserable. So either you back off, or we walk away from this now.”
He stared at her a long time, his gaze hard-edged and steely. She didn’t back down. She couldn’t. Her gut told her that if she lost her foothold now, she wouldn’t recover. Besides, she was far too used to intimidating glares from her father or uncle to do that. Eventually, she even smiled. “See. Your Jedi mind tricks don’t work on me.”
His lips twitched at her comment and finally, he gave a terse, reluctant nod, as if agreeing to keep his own money was an affront to his personal honor.
“There’s something else you should know.”
“Okay, hit me.”
“In the event of my death, you and Peyton get it all.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he raised a hand to cut her off. “I’m not budging on that one.”
“What about your family?” As familiar as she was with his schedule, she knew he didn’t see them often, but they did exist. “Surely you want them to have your fortune.”
His eyes were dark and shuttered. His face nearly expressionless. “There are certain charitable organizations that I’ve already provided for. If I die while we’re married, I want you to have the rest.”
She studied him for a moment. Since this was the most she’d ever heard him say about his family—precisely nothing—she had to assume he was serious. Boy, and she thought her relationship with her family was screwed up. “Okay,” she said softly. “Then we’ll just have to take very good care of you for the next two years. Make sure you take your vitamins.” She smiled at her own joke, but he didn’t return the smile. “Now that that’s settled, I’ll go tell Randy he can do his job and protect his client.”
She’d almost made it out the door when Jonathon’s words stopped her.
“I don’t want you to fall in love with me.”
Hand already on the doorknob, she turned to face him, eyebrows raised. “Excuse me?”
His expression was so strained as to be nearly comical. “If we’re going to be together a year or maybe two, I don’t want you imagining that you’ve fallen in love with me.”
Fighting back a chuckle, she searched his face, but saw no signs that he was joking. In fact, he looked so serious, it made her heart catch in her chest. She had to force a teasing smile. “Why? Because you’re so charming and charismatic that I won’t be able to be constantly in your company without falling in love?” He didn’t smile at her, so she asked, “Is this a separate issue from the money or are the millions of dollars supposed to ease my heartache if I did fall in love with you?”
His lips twitched again, but she wasn’t sure if it was with suppressed humor or irritation. “Separate issue. But I’m serious.”
She could certainly see that. It made her uneasy, but she couldn’t say why. It wasn’t arrogance—his fear that she might fall in love with him. No, despite his natural confidence, she didn’t see that in his gaze now. Instead, she saw only concern. For her.
“Let me guess. You’re not the type of man who believes in love.” She could imagine that all too easily. Jonathon may feel physical passion—he’d proven that clearly enough when he’d kissed her yesterday—but love was something else entirely.
But to her surprise, he shook his head. “Oh, I believe in love. I know exactly how crippling it can be. That’s why I don’t want you to imagine you’ve fallen in love with me.”
“Okay,” she said, torn between wanting to reassure him, without telling him outright that she had absolutely no intention of risking her heart. Finally, she made the only counteroffer she could think of. “Then don’t fall in love with me either.”
He studied her for a moment, slowly smiling. Her chin bumped up a notch. “What? You think you’re above falling in love with me? I’ll have you know I’m very loveable.” Arching an eyebrow, she said, “I’m cute. And plucky. Greater men than you have fallen in love with me.” “I’m sure they have.”