The Marriage Agenda(7)

She pinned her doubt on him with the harrowing skill of an opposing candidate.

He forced his voice to soften. "I told you. Only you."

"I hope you mean that, because if you run around on me, I'll cut off your balls."

The lilt of humor in her tone suggested she might be kidding. Maybe. Not  that it mattered-he didn't need her warning to know he'd stay faithful.  He'd seen what infidelity had done to his mother, but more than that,  he respected Chloe. He might not be able to promise her a lifetime of  the love she deserved, but he'd honor her-not because he had to, but  because he wanted to. Because when it came to this woman, he wanted  nothing more.

"Does that mean you'll marry me?"

"How long?"

"For life," he said softly.

Her eyes widened. "You're asking me to give up my entire life for a man who refuses to love me?"

The inches between them were suddenly far too few. "Look, if you find  you can't deal, then give me a couple years, and you're free to leave.  But if you think falling in love is some kind of end game to a happy  life, you need to think again. Hell, look around. How many  happily-ever-afters do you see? From where I'm sitting, there are a lot  of miserable marriages and quite a few bitter divorces but not a single  fairy-tale ending in sight."

She frowned. "That's your world. Not mine."

"Unless you've packed your bags to move to a cornfield somewhere in Iowa, I beg to differ."

She sighed and sank onto the corner of their unmade bed. "What about kids?"

"Only if you're in it for life. I will not bring children into a relationship from which you plan to walk away."

She seemed to accept that. "You're asking a lot."

"Look, you want to keep your job, and I know your work. You're  good-better than good-and you deserve a chance to prove yourself. You  couldn't ask for a better opportunity to get your hands on a career  story, and I need you. When I marry, I want it to be for life, but if  you need to walk away, I understand that. Just give me a couple of  years, and if you're not happy, we'll reevaluate. In the meantime, it's a  business deal, and it benefits us both. It would likely continue to do  so for years to come. I know I'm asking a lot, but I'm offering more."  He leaned over and nudged her with his shoulder. "Probably more than  Jeff."         

     



 

Her eyes grew round. "That's why you told him I wanted a consultation. You were planning this."

"I was hoping for it."

The wide eyes morphed into dubious slits.

"Yes, I planned it," he admitted. "I called your office, and someone  took pity on me and said you'd mentioned you would be at Off the Record.  I didn't plan on you having plans, but I'll sort out that little  misunderstanding next week when I meet with him. I can't exactly have  Jeff telling everyone he had a date with my fiancée." He stopped, the  contents of her purse coming back to him. "That was an impressive condom  stash, by the way."

"That was Lila's idea."

"For Jeff?"

"She told me to live a little."

"How about you live a lot?"

One of her eyebrows lifted. "By marrying you?"

He grinned. "Actually I was just going to ask if we could use another  one of those condoms. Maybe there's a yellow one in there somewhere."

Her brow furrowed. "Yellow?"

"Banana sex."

"If you think that's a turn on … "

"Fine. If you can ignore the cucumber, you can ignore the banana."

"I don't think I ignored anything."

"I think you're right, and I think the folks in the adjoining rooms know it."

She blushed. Her eyes shone.

His heart raced, but he ignored the thrill that shot through him. It's a  business deal. Nothing more. He took her hand and slid to the  carpet-for good measure, down to both knees. He couldn't give her love,  but he'd give her a proper proposal. "I know this loses some of its  luster being a mutually beneficial arrangement, but I don't want anyone  else, and as long as you're my wife, I never will. Will you do me the  honor of marrying me?"

Silence followed-on his part because he had to catch his breath. The  question suddenly felt a little too important, the risk a little too  big. And Chloe looked a little too uncertain-perhaps even guilty-but she  answered him anyway.

"Okay."

"There's more."

She rolled her eyes. "By all means, continue."

"I would also like for you to provide multicolored sex toys for as long as we both shall live."

"Sex toys?"

"Accessories." He grinned, feeling more sheepish than he cared to admit. "Freudian slip."

"Put that in the vows, and we'll see what happens."

His heart sped along. "So, you'll marry me?"

She sighed. But she smiled. "Yes."

 …

Chloe looked at her three-stone engagement ring for the umpteenth time,  still not convinced it was really hers. She wasn't quite sure of her  sanity, but she couldn't argue with the lure of job security-that alone  was worth the plunge. Plus she genuinely liked Knox. Theirs was the only  really great relationship she'd ever known. She had no idea how she'd  keep herself from falling for him all over again, but she'd be sharing  his bed. If she had to pine away for someone who wanted emotional  distance, she couldn't ask for a better position from which to do it.

"I know it's not exactly traditional," he said, "and I do hope you'll  wear it for the rest of your life, but I figured if you ever married  again, you might want your first solitaire to be special."

"That's just … lovely."

"I can't say I've ever been called that before." He shook his head, one  corner of his mouth lifted in a grin. "You're not having second thoughts  are you?"

"That depends. Has the press been notified?" She was joking. Sort of.  Because no matter how great the appeal of exposing Rex, to do so would  hurt Knox. The fact that he didn't want a real relationship with her  didn't cloud how much she genuinely cared for him, but he'd made her an  offer she couldn't refuse, even if he didn't fully understand the  reason.

"Actually, there's a charity dinner tonight. I thought we could attend.  Let the news trickle out without making a grand announcement of it. We  can say we were keeping it quiet and waylay some of the rumors."

"So, if I understand you correctly, the press has not been notified?"

The slight twitch of his lips was the only sign he'd heard her. "Been on any dates recently? Other than Jeff, I mean."

Like Jeff counted. "Why? Are you worried you're going to run out of business cards?"

"Not so much. I'd just like to know when we started dating."

Great. So much for her dignity. "Over a year ago. When we actually started dating."         

     



 

He adjusted his tie, his expression neutral. "That makes it easy."

Chloe bit her lip but couldn't stop herself from asking. "What about you?"

"There was this one girl. Brown hair. Blue eyes. Unbelievably sexy."

The thought of him with anyone else nauseated her-and so did that realization. She held up a hand. "I don't need details."

"Incredible in bed."

"Enough."

He walked toward her, idly fiddling with his cuff. Her fiancé, ‘Most  Eligible Bachelor' no more. The predatory gleam in his eye made her  squirm, mostly in the G-spot. An honest-to-goodness shudder crawled up  her spine, drawing chills over her flesh. The man gave off heat, and she  had the sudden urge to bask in it.

Not so sudden. More like chronic. And she'd just admitted as much.

"She's got a vegetable fetish," he murmured a split second before his  mouth closed over hers. His lips were soft and warm. Demanding.  Destructive.

"Me?" she murmured.

"No one else." He nudged his body against hers, walking her backward,  simultaneously yanking his shirttails out of his pants. When the backs  of her legs hit the bed, he crawled over her. Déjà vu all over again.  Only this time he wasn't whispering about cats and sports cars and  daiquiris.

This time she wore his ring.

And he wore yellow.





Chapter Six

"You're hell on a shirt."

Chloe peered over the edge of the bed, surprised to find Knox on his hands and knees. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for buttons."

"Wouldn't it be easier to have the dry cleaner fix the shirt?"

"Are you trying to tell me you don't sew?"

"I don't cook much, either. Why are you looking for buttons?"

"Because you ripped them off my shirt. Again."

"You love that. And that doesn't exactly answer my question."

He reached under the bed and came back in triumph, a small white orb  between his thumb and forefinger. "Thought you might want to put it in a  scrapbook or something."

She couldn't tell if he was being serious or not. "A scrapbook?"