“I want you, too. What else?”
“I will pay your bills. I might need you to accompany me to a few social events, but given that you are writing an article about me perhaps we should keep that to a minimum?”
“Why? Reporters follow their subjects all the time,” she said. “But if I agree to this, I don’t want anyone to ever know about our arrangement. I think moving into your place would be a bad idea. There will be doormen and maids who will know I’ve stayed there.”
“What’s the alternative?”
“You can come to my house,” she said.
“You have neighbors, right? The risk of discovery is just as great. Perhaps you should just disclose that we are dating and let the cards fall where they may after that.”
“I’d have to ask my boss,” she said. “Actually, that sounds like the best option. Most people won’t guess that we have any other arrangement.”
“Exactly. A win-win. You get your story, I get your body and we both leave happy.”
She tipped her head to the side, staring at him askance. “Happy?”
“I think so,” he said. And he’d be in control of the article. He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of this before.
“Okay, so I want two different stories from you. The first is strictly about the dating industry and your involvement with the venture. I’ll include the stuff you mentioned earlier about vetting gold diggers, that sort of thing.”
“Fine. That’s no problem at all,” he said, glancing at his calendar to see what would have to be moved so he could spend the rest of the day with Nichole. In her arms. It looked like the mistress deal was in the bag.
“The second story will be about the effect your father’s betrayal has had on your own dating habits and maybe your sister’s. I think it’s interesting that she is the home guru yet single.”
“No.”
“No? To what part?” she asked.
“All of it. I’m not talking about my father. I’m certainly not talking about Jane.”
“I want two stories,” she said.
“I will not talk about my private life,” he said. “There’s no merit to it other than gossip and you said you weren’t that type of reporter.”
“I’m not. I think it’s a human-interest story. There are readers out there who want to know what happened to you. They watched you grow up—”
“Too bad. I’m afraid that’s a deal breaker for me,” he said.
She retreated around the desk, back to the guest chair. He could tell her mind was going one hundred miles an hour trying to come up with something else to tempt him. But he knew the mistress deal was over. He wasn’t going to talk about his father—ever.
He never had and never wanted to. His father was nothing more than part of a past that Conner had already forgotten. “I think we’re through here.”
“Are we?” she asked. “I’m willing to settle for a different type of story.”
“The one on dating?” he asked.
“Definitely, but also one on you. Maybe as a corporate raider,” she said. “You have done some amazing things with failing companies.”
“Yes, I have. But that type of article is more suited to the business pages than the lifestyle section that you write for,” he said.
She sighed.
“What’s your decision, Nichole? Will you be satisfied with the one article from me in exchange for being my mistress?” he asked.
At this point it was all down to her. He’d live up to his end of the bargain, but he knew there were lines that he’d never allow her to cross. And seeing the way she interviewed him he knew that he’d have to be careful not to reveal too much. He also knew that he was playing a dangerous game by bringing her into his home because reporters were never really off the record.
She wouldn’t be satisfied with just one interview with him and one article. But she knew there was more than one way to get what she wanted. And for now it seemed that she should retreat and give this some thought.
It was easy to say that it didn’t matter to her if she slept with Conner in exchange for the information she needed. She was a sophisticated, new-millennium woman, but the truth of the matter was she was a bit old-fashioned. And though she often told her friends that she liked to keep her personal life light, so it didn’t interfere with her professional life, she knew that deep inside she was afraid to let anyone too close to her.
Living with Conner, even for only a month, would jeopardize that. She was afraid that once she saw what she’d been missing all these years, she might want more.
“I have to think this over,” she said. “It’s not a decision I can make easily.”
“I can respect that,” he said. “To be honest, I didn’t expect you to agree to it.”
“Then why did you make the offer?” she asked.
He shrugged. “There’s something about you that brings out impulsive instincts.”
“I feel the same way about you,” she said. He was different than other men. It wasn’t just the wealth and the upbringing that he’d had. It wasn’t just that she thought she’d known him from the background research she’d done. It was that she’d been surprised by how different he was than she’d expected.
He gave her a half smile that she was coming to realize was his only way of smiling. He didn’t give much away when it came to emotions. He’d admitted to wanting her, but that was lust and she suspected he’d put it down to chemistry. But his real feelings he kept buttoned up.
She glanced at her watch, surprised that she’d taken up thirty minutes of his time. It felt like she’d just arrived. That should be another warning to her. She wasn’t herself around him.
“I should be going. I’ll get back to you in a few days to let you know my decision.”
He stood up and came around his desk, holding his hand out to her. She took it in hers, realizing that although they’d kissed they’d never shook hands. Unsurprisingly, his handshake was firm, conveying confidence.
But it also made her want more. She wanted him to touch her as he had earlier on her leg. She couldn’t believe she was going to walk out the door when she wanted him as badly as she did.
“Are you sure I can’t change your mind?” he asked as he rubbed his thumb over the back of her knuckles.
“No, I’m not at all sure. But this seems like the kind of thing I really need to think about,” she said.
“Thinking is going to overcomplicate it. No one has to know what’s between us. How is it any different than a relationship?”
“The agreement. We’d both know that we aren’t just dating,” she said.
“It’s more of a commitment than most relationships.”
“Most of yours?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“How many dates do you usually have?” she asked. Thinking that she wanted to know personally, but also testing her theory that his father had damaged some relationship skills in Conner.
“Two. You?” he asked.
“Um … about the same. I tend to