She didn’t respond, just stared at me like I’d grown a second head.
I sighed. “All right, look. I was prepared to offer as much as five million?—”
“Five million dollars!” She surged up from the water, standing tall, bubbles and water sliding down her body in rivulets. Curves gleaming. Absolutely unashamed. And turning me the fuck on. “Hand me a towel.”
I glanced at her rewrite and smirked. “The rule states I shall do as I’m ordered when you’re naked in front of me.”
She arched a brow, snapped her fingers, and pointed to the towel. “Be a good boy, then.”
With every ounce of willpower I possessed, I reached for the plush Egyptian white cotton instead of stripping off my clothes and taking her right there. I draped it around her shoulders, my knuckles brushing wet skin—a consolation prize that only made me want more.
“You’re serious about five million?” she repeated, voice softer now.
“It’s hazard pay for living in my spotlight and carrying my schedule. At the end of this, we separate, and you get the money.”
She stepped out of the tub, water pooling at her feet. She readjusted the towel to fit around snugly.
“This is crazy,” she breathed.
I stepped closer. “Jessa, if you sign and we do this, everything will change between us. We’ll have to spend a lot more time together. But if you say no, I’ll find someone else.”
“More time together?” A slow smile drew across her face. She took the pen and signed. “We’ll need another sitter for Theo when you drag me to your dog-and-pony shows. And I’ll be the one to hire that person. I don’t particularly care to have any other woman around the house who’s cuter or thinner than me.”
My lips twitched. Possessiveness surged through me. “Deal. I trust you to make the right decision for Theo’s care.”
I hoped we were doing the right thing. I signed beside her name, too. “Tomorrow night we have a cocktail party. Nothing major—just a few executives from West Games. Be ready by seven. A car will pick you up.”
I reached into my wallet and pulled out the matte black card. “I’m adding rule number eleven: buy anything you want. No limit. Go buy clothes, dresses, shoes, whatever you need to play the part.”
She fumbled the card between her fingers, studying it carefully, the towel gaping at her thigh just enough to make my mouth go dry. “Are you sure? I might bankrupt you.”
I snorted. “Sweetheart, you couldn’t spend that much in a day if you tried.”
“You’re giving me carte blanche with this thing?” Her voice lowered, and she shifted her expression. “Because, you know, Christmas is coming up and my sisters... Let’s just say it’s been a few years since we’ve had a good one at the Cole residence.”
Her wet eyes killed me. I’d spoiled Theo every year, trying to make up for the lack of family around, mounds of presents taking up the entire living room.
“Go wild; I don’t see the receipts. I have accountants who handle it all.” I moved toward the door before I did something stupid like carry her over my shoulder to my bed whilepromising every cent of my fortune to her. “Oh, and there’s a new car for you in the parking garage. A blue Mercedes GLE. The keys are on the kitchen counter. Your other car has been fixed and is also in the garage. You’re welcome.”
Her jaw dropped. “You bought me a car?”
“To be fair, it’s a company car assigned to you to use.”
Before I opened the door, she called, “I’d have done this for you for free, if you’d asked nicely.”
I turned back. She stood there in my towel, hair dripping, looking fiercely fuckable and entirely too dangerous for my world.
“In business, I play by the adage that you shouldn’t sell yourself short. Your time is valuable. And for the record, those rules weren’t mine. Sam put them there. I was going to torch that page. But given our rewrites, I think I’ll keep it.”
I closed the door behind me before she could respond, and retreated to my office. I tossed the folder in the middle of my desk and poured myself two fingers of Macallan.
I sank into the leather chair and opened it to the rules. Jessa’s handwriting looped across the pages, defiantly entirely her. I traced the sketch of a middle finger in the margin.
Christ. What had I just done?
I’d hired the woman I couldn’t stop thinking about to pretend to be my fiancée. The same woman who slept in my guest room, took care of my son, and had just signed away the next few months of her life for money.
Money she’d said she didn’t need. But I knew she needed it more than I did.
